#but are about an already established relationship

[goteique]

| MY STARGIRL + rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne. 

+cw. — f!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, established relationship, unprotected, s/d dynamics, explicit smut, rafayel is in heat, period sex, oral sex, f!overstim + m!overstim,  | +wc. — 3.5k |

+syn. — the thought of having a quickie with you occurred to him so suddenly and so enormously that all he needed was just to make it go away. However, it did not stop there.

+notes. — something possessed me while I wrote this. So happy that I’m finally making the debut post for this fandom & thanks to @hayatoseyepatch for beta reading all my lads pieces. | redirect to blog navigation

◈ RAFAYEL. 

“It’s just the tip baby,” Rafayel whispers against your ears followed by a prolonged groan. Encapsulated by his arms you feel immobile under his touch. He adds, “I promise.” You know him better than he knows himself. He says it's just the tip but the way he is being handsy with you, playing with the hem of your robes, pressing himself against you it does not strengthen the promise part of his word. 

“I don’t think you will. . .ahaAah!” His lips have already moved onto the bottom of your nape. You can feel his teeth sinking into your skin.  You can still look at the view of the vast blue of the sea through the window but as his hands skim under your dress cupping your breasts you moaningly exclaim, “I bet you won’t stop just at the tip.” There is a hint of mockery in your tone, underneath that, a challenge. Rafayel can take on challenges quite well even though he will whine about them throughout, very well when it is coming from you but not a taunt. That’s still a little hard to digest for him.

“Hah! We’ll see who’s on the winning side,” He rasps against your ears before turning you towards himself. Now your back is against the warm glass window. The heat does not irritate your skin since the sun is not very rowdy today but Rafayel is. Rafayel does not wait any further for any form of resistance but ends up smashing his lips against yours. It is the first time he has been like this, so needy, so rough, and above everything you like it. Is he on his heat cycle already? Both of your hands rest on his chest, trying to push him away at the possible realization because it would be dangerous for both of you but he just wouldn’t budge. So, instead of trying to resist, you just give in. 

“We’re not going to do this here, are we?”Rafayel does not answer your question with words but with his actions. He clusters all your dress up and tucking it over your boobs. You gulp as you help him to unbuckle his belt. As soon as his pants hit the floor, you can see the evidence of his yearning for you. 

Rafayel takes you into his lap by hoisting you up in his arms. The moment he pushes the head of his cock inside you, a gush of warmth washes all over your body. It is a beach resort solely owned by him where you have accompanied him but there must be at least a few staff, right? What if they see you like this? The chances are bleak but never zero. Those worrisome thoughts were pushed aside you feel the base of his cock hitting your skin with a strong deep thrust making you arch and moan.  You tip your head forward to say, “But Rafayel. . .you said. . . it's just the tip.” 

“And you said I —ahh— I can’t be stopped at just the tip.” He states as he starts to rut into you. “I'm just proving you right. Doesn't it feel good to be on the winning side?” it does . . . it does . . . your arms encapsulate around his shoulders as he starts to bob you up and down his fat shaft as you bury your face into his shoulders. He is stronger than his usual self. As he quickens his pace you start to whimper and you can feel him leaking and growing inside you, reaching your sweet spot as he keeps rutting into you in full yet strong thrusts.

By now, he has fucked you in different positions and different places of the resort keeping in mind not to finish inside you. He can not just help it: chasing the thought of cumming inside you especially when he fucked you raw for the first time. But he can wait. No. he will wait for you till you are begging for him.

And, when the sun sinks into the sea making the sky blush at its fullest, you and him are deep in slumber, in front of the fireplace, under the sheets, naked underneath, and holding each other.

◈ SYLUS.

It’s painful. He has been teasing you for a while now and your posture does not make it easier for you. Your muscles feel clammy. The way Sylus keeps rubbing the tip of his cock-head against your soft, tender flesh of your femininity gradually wears off your patience, thinning your limit and testing your sanity. It was you. It was all you. You admit that but you did not think he would be able to keep up when you kept being so needy, so ready for him. By now, you have come to know his melting points and you know when to abuse them and when not to. When you said you needed him, despite being in your months-time, at first he hesitated because you are not someone who can easily beg or ask for things but when you kept being handsy, and distracting him he said he would— with just the tip— a mere quickie but you never knew it would turn out to be this tormenting.

“Wait Sylus. You gasp as he rests both of his palms over your respective knees. This position.”

“Yeah, too deep?” Sylus verbalized with a veil of mischief over his face as he spread your legs apart as a result pushing the tip of his cock-head inside you. But before now, he would jock down to kiss you,  suckle at your nipples, and play with your hair but his cock would still be rubbing against the outer folds of your pussy, and truth be told, it was good, it was okay you felt satisfied but the moment you felt his cock inside you, even just the tip, it made you want all of him. “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”. He isn’t; if anything he is diluting your self-control by pushing himself in you in small doses.

Sylus smiles as he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it. He sees it the way you keep swallowing, gasping for breath, biting your lip, touching yourself — you do that when you want something yet can not ask for it. As you half-lay on the bed, with elbows resting on the mattress creating dips under the influence of your pressure Sylus leans towards you his hands still intact on your knees, spreading them further as a result of which he sinks more into you; you gasp followed by a moan feeling almost half of him inside you. With a crease amongst your eyes, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down while the night robe is barely covering your breasts you look divine under the dim light of the room.

You can feel how aroused you are. It would merely take a few thrusts to make you cum. He can feel that too yet dares to ask, “Do you want me to move?” Since he asked so nicely you decide to play into his little game. Wrapping one of your arms around his nape, you pull him into a strong, yearnful kiss. He can tell. He can certainly tell how much you want him now. As you slowly feel his hands under your waist locking in, your legs start to curl around his hips The lights go dead when you pull away from the kiss to take a breather and he pushes all of him into you adjusting you in his lap. A gasp of a high note blesses Sylus’s ears followed by a trail of short quick huffs as if he ran fingers along the piano keys. Even with the lights out, when you glimpse his eyes on yours a hot wave of embarrassment washes over you. 

The lights are alive again when you bury your face in his chest. 

“Kitten, you doing good?” He asks that with the whole of him inside you despite knowing how such soul staring gaze while having sex makes you nervous. He walks into a different room in that position carrying you where two mirrors are placed opposite to each other. 

You barely peep seeing him through the mirror at first and then look into his eyes, commanding, “Fuck me as you hate me Sylus.”

A throaty chuckle escapes from his chest as he says, “Y’know I can’t do that.” As he puts you on the bathroom sink. “However, I shall not disappoint my queen.” placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

◈ XAVIER.

Xavier claims that he is not much fond of the idea of punishments in general but he has never denied yours. In fact, he has enjoyed them thoroughly till the end. He has never been the one to ask things right away and always ends up taking detours after detours observing your expressions so minutely, so intently since it sends an ample amount of electric thrill in his heart for a few seconds — the way you look away when he makes advances on you, the way you quickly lick your bottom lip before dismissing his approaches or the quickening of your breaths, the flustered look— even if it is just for a mere few seconds — it’s all worth it in the end when you just give in, doing all those innuendos, craving your walking path only to him and him alone. 

But, this time you decided to try tackling him from a different angle. You did not resist like you usually do when he slowly started to cave into you. In fact, you agreed with him right away. Both of your stress would just sublime especially if you two took a quickie break together. Ah! The look on his face— was priceless: with one of his eyebrows pitched higher than the other as a small crescent appears along his lips: he is so confused. Even if Xavier can not quite navigate your thoughts he is not backing out and you know he won’t.

As you sit on the nightstand crossing your legs, one upon the other with your heels still intact you summon him with your arm raised, all the fingers lightly curled into a fist except your index finger that moved to and fro for him, while Xavier stands at an arm's length from you. He walked towards you but stood, waiting for your next move. You loosen his tie and pull it away from his collar with a swish. He leans into you but stops midway as he feels your pointed nails digging into his chest. 

“Turn around,” you utter with a grave tone. It is so odd to see you like this that Xavier can not help but be pulled into this intimidating daze of yours. After you tie his hands at the back he turns around and then the fun begins. Xavier loses his mind for a good minute when he sees you taking his cock out of his trousers, jocking down with lips forming an unfamiliar pout, only to spit on it, stroking his length all over, coating your saliva on his cock. He groans loudly enough for you to look at him. Is he okay? With his head tipped backward you fail to gauge his expressions so you spit on your hand to use it as a lube for his cock.

Xavier tips his head forward as he feels his cock being surrounded by something, but only a part of it. There is a gap in between your cross-legged sitting posture: the gap between the end of your knee and the apex of your calf muscle with your other knee underneath. 

“You don’t mean — Xavier stammers— that I—

“Yes. I mean exactly what you’re thinking.” You exclaim with a firm tone by keeping your fingertips underneath your hand, elbow rested over your knee as you wait for his move. As he starts to move he can understand how much he has to work for himself to cum and you are just staring at him. It drives him insane, really. With his hand tied at the back, he can only do so much so you decide to help him— out of pity of course. After you unbutton his shirt one by one, you hold his hard nipple with your sharp nails and pinch it; Xavier has to fight the urge to hold himself back from latching his lips on your warm skin.

As your hands move upwards, caressing his cheeks, thumb abusing his lips. He glances before he takes your thumb into his mouth while his hips are in constant motion. “Go ahead. Get yourself off.” Yeah! He doesn’t need to be reminded of that. You watch his face contort, your thumb pressed in between his teeth making you wince as he peaks his orgasm. He pulls out his cock and the exhaustion is heavy on his muscles. 

Inserting a finger into the gap between his belt and trousers, you pull him towards yourself, whispering, “Good boy ”over his lips before kissing him. He moans while kissing and surrenders as you untie the knot of his hands which immediately clamp around your shoulder heads. Well, aren't you an angel for showing kindness to him?

“More. . . more . . . I want more. . .” Xavier mumbles taking a quick breather before diving back to one more kiss and this time he is rougher than usual. 

◈ ZAYNE.

Zayne has been teasing you for . . . ah ! You do know how long has it been since he pushed you over the pool table. His cock is still inside his pants, intact but awake. Although the only view you have is the ceiling and sometimes his face when he rubs the clit folds by running his thumb roughly over them while the rest of the finger rests against your inner thigh. He has unbuttoned your dress shirt enough to have a view of a slice of your supple skin. Every time he presses your bud, followed by a rough rub towards the apex of your cunt he sees your navel sink. It turns him on, too much for him to ignore the attention that his cock has been begging. Your palms lay flat on the green of the pool table yet every time he jocks down to have a taste of your arousal your nails dig into the corase of the table. 

As Zayne stands up again, you whimper before saying, “Stop teasing, me. just put it in already. ” The tip of his nose glistens. Does he know that? He licks his lips before responding, “But I haven’t even. . . he trails off because part of him does not wanna scare you by bringing the thought into light that how he has not taken out his cock yet. He has been touching your folds, lapping over your arousal once in a while. You can not see but only hear the lewdity now while Zayne can see that you are so wet that the moss green of the pool table has become dark green. You don’t need to know that, not now.

“Have a little trust in yourself, I know you can take it.” Zayne supplies in a tart manner but actually, he is reminding himself not to cross the thin boundaries too much otherwise he won’t be able to keep his urges at bay. He is under the influence of the same pain as you yet you are so whiny about it which only makes it harder for him to refuse you in this vulnerable needy state. He was just teasing you, flirting ever so slightly to get you comfortable and now he is in deep trenches of pleasuring you. 

But, there is pain underneath. Your body tells him that you want more but he is not sure about himself how long he can keep at it.

Fuck. He can’t. Not anymore. In a series of rough and messy movements, he has his cock out of his pants, aligning to your entrance. One glance and the moment he is inside you he can feel your cunt clench around his cock while your legs wrap around his hips. He can hear the click of your heels as he leans over you, his face in the nook of your neck, not moving but still adjusting to the feeling of your gummy walls wrapped around him but you are so impatient. He feels your wet suck of the lip over his collarbones which denotes his desire for you. As he starts to buck his hips against you, you suddenly think how the design of the ceiling is not boring anymore.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I absolutely love your stories they’re so amazing! Can I please request the task force and pranking them by telling them a guy did your Brazilian wax

Thank you! I can't take all the credit. I might be the writer, but the Imagines Series couldn't be what it is without all the amazing ideas people have submitted. I'm honestly blown away by the amount of creativity and ideas sent my way. My inbox is full of wonderful requests, and while it's going to take me a bit to get to them all, I'm eager to complete them!

The amount of prank requests I've been getting has been so fun. Not just this one, but telling mom to shut up, and the premium air prank, etc. All of these make me giggle and have been a blast to work on. Thank you so much for sending this in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, established relationship, pranks, non-descriptive nudity

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John briefly licks the pad of his thumb before counting out the appropriate amount of pound notes.

“This enough?” he asks, presenting it to you.

It’s more than enough. “Plenty. Thank you, John.”

He leans forward a bit, and you eagerly greet him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Drawing back, you give him your best smile. But beneath the grin is a trick.

You want to mess with him a bit.

“I have a new waxer,” you shrug, adding the cash to your wallet. “Cheryl put in her notice.”

Cheryl did not put in her notice. That woman probably won’t retire until she dies.

John inclines his head, already turning away. “That’s too bad. You liked her.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing your purse. “They’ve put me with someone new. A Mark? Mike? No—Marcus? I think.”

John freezes. He slowly turns back, cheeks bright red. “What?”

“It starts with an ‘m’,” you muse.

“Your new waxer is a man?”

“Yes,” you shrug. “And?” John’s face resembles a beet. “Everything good?”

“Where does Cherly work now?”

“John—”

He grabs his phone from his pocket and starts tapping away at it. "I want to know if she accepts walk-ins."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle's hand slowly runs over your newly waxed skin. "Look at you. So soft and smooth." His touch makes you shiver.

"You paid for it," you murmur.

"I did," smiles Kyle, head dipping.

His tongue makes contact, and you release a moan. It’s slightly distracting, but not enough to detract from you poking at him.

“Had a new waxer,” you sigh as Kyle goes in for another taste.

“Did you?” he asks absently, more interested in your new smoothness.

“A man, actually. Undergoing training. There were two of them in the room.”

Kyle's head snaps up. "What?"

"Why'd you stop?" you whimper.

"There were two men that waxed you?"

“No, Kyle. Just one.”

A series of emotions pass over Kyle's face. His mouth opens. Closes. And then his hand forms a fist, fingers flexing and relaxing as he mulls over something.

"Everything okay?" you ask, suddenly worried.

“Can’t be that hard.” Kyle pushes away from the couch and reaches for his phone. “Or expensive.”

“What can’t? Kyle. What are you talking about?”

You lean forward and see him adding a waxing kit to his online shopping cart.

“No,” you say firmly. “You’re not putting hot wax anywhere near my vagina.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Oh, what's this?"

Johnny's hands are on your thighs and then beneath your skirt in a moment.

"Johnny!"

"Is this for me? You don't have to. You know I like a good adventure through the woods."

"Johnny!" you say again, slapping his arm playfully as his fingers lightly squeeze, making your squirm in his grasp.

"Was this on my dime?" he asks.

"Maybe."

"Oh, aye. Am I gonna find an unknown charge?"

"With a tip. A large tip. My waxer deserved it. He did a good job."

"Oh, they—he?"

"Yes. That a problem?"

Johnny's hands don't retreat but he's staring at you—hard. You arch an eyebrow and he finally speaks. "Your waxer is a man?"

No.

"Yes."

Johnny nods and then he leans in, lowering his voice. “You’re taking the piss.”

“I’m—”

“I saw your location. I checked it out. They don’t have a single male employee in that place.”

Your face grows hot.

Johnny’s hands squeeze a bit harder, and then he lands a brief smack against the curve of your ass. “Lying to me, love?” Johnny tsks. He palms the curve of your ass where it stings. “Suppose I should punish you.”

“Maybe you should.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You reject the call and clutch your phone to your chest. You've messed up. Royally. Pranking Simon is always a terrible idea.

The texts were just a tease. Just a way to push Simon’s buttons.

I have a new waxer.

I thought it would be one of the other ladies.

But no!

It was a guy!

Your phone buzzes again and you nearly throw it across the room. It’s Simon. You decline the call. Everything is quiet for a few brief seconds before a text message from him comes through.

Answer your phone.

You click out a reply.

I'm in the car!

His reply comes instantly.

You're at home. I know your location.

Another incoming call. This one you answer.

"Simon,” you say flatly.

"What location did you go to?" he asks, voice rough with tension.

"Why?" you counter.

"What's his name?" he snaps.

"I know what you're doing, Simon.”

You always forget just how deep his possessive streak goes.

Silence. Then, "I just want to talk."

"Simon.”

He growls your name in warning.

"You don't need to go there. Just...come home. You can see the results for yourself."

He sighs. "I'll be there in ten. Be ready for me."

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[sanemistar]

᧔o᧓ satoru x fem!reader, established relationship (married with a son), lots of fluff, i’m just so obsessed with dad gojo he’s living in my head rent free

you never expected to get a call from your son’s school on his very first day, you were pretty sure he was just fine before satoru had taken him to school this morning. you walked out of the house and quickly headed to your son’s school, worried about him.

the moment you arrived, you were shocked to see satoru was still there, with his arms tightly clinging onto his son’s body as he sobbed against his ears, refusing to let go until you had to intervene and pull him away.

“mrs gojo, we’re very sorry to call you so suddenly. but as you can see, mr gojo has been like this for the past 30 minutes, and classes have already started.” the principal said and you politely bowed your head, you grabbed your husband’s head and forcefully made him bow in apology

“let’s go to class now, baby. listen to your teachers and be a good boy, okay? if you do well today, mommy will get you a treat.” your son nodded obediently and you kissed his forehead before dragging satoru, and walking out of the school.

“toru, i can’t believe you would cling to your son like that. you could’ve made him miss his classes.” you scolded your husband, who was still sulking about leaving his son alone. his head drooped down in discouragement.

you knew your husband was so clingy, which was why you were skeptical about letting him take your son on his first day of school when he asked you to this morning. but he begged you so much with his irresistible puppy eyes so you couldn’t say no. if you knew he’d act like that, you wouldn’t agree to it in the first place.

“but babe, what if he gets scared or hurt when i’m not there to protect him?” he tried justifying his actions, you were aware of his good intentions and his fear was reasonable considering the fact that it’s a completely new environment from home, and you too wished you wouldn’t have to leave him. but it was bound to happen anyway and you had to brace yourself for it.

you sighed and patted satoru’s head, your fingers running through his soft, white locks in soothing motions. you couldn't stay mad at him any longer.

"i understand how you feel. it was hard leaving him there, i miss him already. but toru, it's a part of his growing up process. one day he's going to grow up and have his own life, so until then, let's protect him together while he explores life." you said with a smile, entwining your hand with his as he grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it softly.

“not only is my wife beautiful, but she’s also very wise. i love you, y/n.” satoru murmured gently before leaning in to leave a sweet kiss on your forehead.

[prongsx]

Lazy Sundays

warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.

Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.

It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.

Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.

Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.

When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.

Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.

You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.

After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.

"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.

"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.

"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.

"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.

As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.

Peace would suit Jason, you thought.

The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.

Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.

"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.

The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.

"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.

"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.

"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."

You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.

"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.

"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.

"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.

"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."

Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.

"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."

Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.

"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.

"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.

You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.

"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.

"Todd, we need to figure this out!"

"Jason, it won't take long..."

Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."

He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.

"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."

"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.

"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.

The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.

"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."

Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."

You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.

"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."

He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.

"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.

"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"

He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.

It was a good lazy Sunday.

[deanssluvr]

JOOST WITH A GIRLY!READER HCS

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

content: RPF. sfw + nsfw. pre-established relationship.

a/n: randomly felt the urge to write this at 3am.

SFW

- your style was the first thing he noticed about you when you met. you were a pink floral dress and heels with ribbons that decorated your hair. he thought you were beautiful. you took his staring as something negative at first, but was relieved when he complimented your outfit.

- you were nervous to bring him over to your place, but he was absolutely mesmerized by the way it was decorated.

- one of his favorite dates with you was when you both went to build a bear. you had asked him to get matching bears with you to which he happily agreed. you both settled on getting frogs. his green and yours pink. you dressed yours like a princess and he dressed his like spider-man. at the end you both exchanged them, so you kept his and vice versa.

- you both send pictures of each other doing things with said stuffed animals. like he’d send a pic of him out shopping with it or you’d send a pic cooking with it.

- he noticed your love of decorating so he goes out of way to buy you things that reminds him of you. whether it be little trinkets, a stuffed animal, or a record that he thinks you’d like.

- you have heavily influenced his style since he’s been with you.

- he always handles your stuffed animals with care. talks to them as well.

“how do you think she looks?” he looks down at the stuffed bunny in his hand and nods as if listening to a second opinion. “me too. i think she looks beautiful.”

- he enjoys sitting and watching you do your makeup and skin care routine. likes seeing how much care you put into it. there are a few times where he asked you to do his makeup. sometimes it was just simple eyeliner, but he loved it.

- on that same note you asked if he wanted to do a face mask with you one night and his face lit up immediately. now every once in a while you include him in your skincare routine.

- he lets you paint his nails a new color almost every week and always lets you pick the color. sometimes he just matches with whatever color your nail set is at the time.

- ties your shoes and buckles your heels for you without asking.

- you never pay for anything while he’s around because he never gives you the chance. dinner? new clothes? a piece of jewelry you looked at for only a few seconds? he’s already got his card out for you.

- he sleeps better at your place. it’s mostly because of you, but also because of how goddamn comfortable your bed is. the thick soft comforter? the many fluffy pillows? the pink sheets? he’d always fall asleep quickly in your bed.

- enjoys taking baths over showers with you. loves the scent of your soap you use and the bubbles you put in it. loves the way your hands gently wash him.

- learns how to do your hair. watches so many videos and asked you one day if he could do it. you spent the day doing your hair with him. he looked so concentrated and you found it so sweet.

NSFW

- he is obsessed with how you look in your lingerie sets. he loves the way the delicate lace and satin looks on you. he’s always hesitant to take it off of you.

- although he loved everything you wore, he had to admit that you in skirts were always his favorite. maybe it’s because your legs just look so good in them, or it’s actually because he loves thinking about how pretty they are pushed up your hips while he fucks you from behind. who knows?

- he turns your stuffed animals around whenever you both fuck. he told you it’s because he doesn’t want them to watch.

- he actually prefers having sex at your place though he never tells you. your bed is just so comfy with all the pillows and soft blankets that you layer on it.

- nothing but praise. even when he’s pounding into you harshly or fucking himself further into your throat, he’s still whispering sweet praises into your ear.

“so pretty taking my cock like this.”

“fuck, you’re so perfect”

“you’re doing so good for me schat.”

- loves the way you say his name. you could just be trying to get his attention and he’d melt at how his name sounds on your tongue. but he especially loves hearing you moan his name when your fucking. how desperate you sound for him almost brings him over the edge every time.

- won’t admit it, but the way you smell turns him on. when you hug him or simply just sit next to him and he could smell that perfume that he loves, he’s already getting hard.

- eats you out like you’re his last meal. would do it for hours if he could. prefers giving you head over anything. just loves the way you taste and even more so the sounds you make.

[knizuu]

Insert myself being feral for my fandoms/silly

Below is just me yapping about them all dksjnvkfnrg-💞

LOOK AT EMM!!!! Lmao I keep referring to “Past, Present, and Future” because GxK already came out, S3 should be out this year, and DM is next year :3 !! +THE BLUE TRIO [Godzilla had blue as radioactive energy beforehand-I just wanted a more fitting picture, therefore, using the powerful goji right there :D]

THEN THE ORANGES…that I originally labeled as the children cough idk why all of them are orange coded but THE MORE SIMILARITIES THE BETTER [Since Lil Petey hasn’t been apparent in the movie so far, the best I have is the image he has in the DM art book ^ ^]

Pfft…ok so I was gonna say “Kong and Knuckles at some point believed they were the last of their kind ALONG with having that warrior aspect…and Knuckles ties with Sarah purely from their red hair complexion✨/silly” but they’re all important side characters that were introduced really closely with the main!

Then the character that [as I remember] have a longer relationship or at least been established a strong dynamic with the main boyo? XP either way, I see them to be an over-looker for the main character :> [Lmao the way I wanted a better image for Tom but IT WAS THE BEST I COULD GEt without using other movies of course :3]

hehe THE SCENE WHERE THE INITIAL ANTAGONIST SHOWS OFF THEIR ✨very rad✨ EYES [Now that I notice more, Skar has blue eyes-Shadow has red-and Petey has green…RGB JUMPSCARE/silly]

-

Overall I’m so excited to see my three fandoms have their movie trailers :D !!! <33

[juniperdugong]

Super Weird - Vernon

WC: 867 || Genre: Fluff || CW: Suggested bullying (?)/ reader being an outcast || Vernon x GN!reader (established relationship)

A/N: For all my weirdos because I'm a weirdo and Vernon is too, ain't no denying it, just a buncha freaks in masks huh?

"Do you think I'm weird?"

Vernon looks at you, eyes squinting in confusion and his expression shifting into a scowl seeing that you're completely serious, "Whaf dar haw ah yo tarking abo-?" (What the hell are you talking about?)

His mouth is filled with the last and biggest spoonful of food that you knew you couldn't finish so - as the routine goes - you gave it to Vernon. He furiously chews at a pace that you know probably isn't safe and with a large and rather painful-looking gulp his mouth is free of obstructions. "What did you just say?" his tone sounds more lightly confused but his face gives quiet anger more than anything.

"Hansol you heard me. Do you think I'm weird?" You speak very monotonously, a trait the two of you shared.

"Of course you're weird." He says it like it's a matter of fact. His expression completely drops into the deadpan face you're used to. He ignores how perplexed you look as he brings the dishes to the sink.

"And you're okay with that?" You ask out of genuine curiosity, you know that most people would outcast someone they think is weird - it's something you've often experienced at school and work. So if he thought you were strange then why would he stick around?

"Why wouldn't I be?" He looks up at you almost accusatorily as he scrubbed the dishes and put them to dry.

"I mean- It doesn't bother you at all that I'm abnormal or weird? I know people talk about how I sound or that I'm too... strange and stuff. It isn't lost on me but if you also know that then why do you stick around?" You let your words spill just wanting to get down to the root of the issue while escaping the heavy-handed approach of blurting out "Why would you want to be with someone you find weird?".

"Nope." That was his reply. His. Entire. Answer. Just "Nope." and then he picked his phone up from the table and went to sit in the living room. You know he saw your face as it contorted into even more confusion and bafflement but he ignored it!

You did the only sensible thing, of course, and immediately trailed him and sat right next to him, snatching his phone out of his hand as he opened up a game. You had his attention and yet he seemed confused? As if he wasn't the one who completely dodged your questioning before.

"Yes?"

"You have nothing else to say?"

He gave himself a moment to think, you thought for a millisecond that perhaps he's finally found a more appropriate answer, "Nope."

"Huh?" You shake your head completely bewildered. "You know I'm weird and you still want to be with me, why is that?"

"It's probably because I love you or something weird like that-" He turns to you as a blush sets in. Chuckling he gives a small pinch to your cheeks, fighting the cuteness aggression he feels, "Don't think about it too much though, that's a fact you should already know about by now... I would hope you know about by now..." He tilts his head as he says that last part as if questioning if you really did know about his love after all this time.

Vernon's love for you was something you never questioned, even though he wasn't exactly the best at physically expressing it he always made sure to assure you through words, actions, or gifts. It was a bit odd honestly, like he had some sort of psychic powers to know what your needs are. Maybe...

"I think you're the weird one actually-" you start thinking out loud.

"Yeah? Maybe."

"And you accept that, Han?"

"Mhm." His answers are blunt and to the point, you have to wonder if he's just saying this to satisfy your curiosity- "I'm not just saying that by the way. I know that I'm weird, babe."

"You a wizard?" He squints as he looks at you, waiting for clarification, "You read my mind like one."

"Nope, I'm just a really good boyfriend I think." He relaxes into the couch, pulling you onto his lap and retrieving his phone from your grasp.

"So we're both just weird and we both just have to accept that?"

"Looks like it, babe."

"huh..." You ponder on it for a moment as your eyes look around your shared apartment. Shelves filled with knick-knacks of yours, pillows in the shape of cartoon characters, anime on the TV currently... "Yeah, okay." You retract your worry as quick as it came, it was an absurd thought that you let yourself get caught up in any way. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder as you watch him play his game.

"Hansol?"

"What?"

"Why am I seeing a half-naked man on your screen right now?"

"That is my current boyfriend, Sylus."

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, he meets your nebulous expression with a peck on the lips. "You are weird, Han."

"I know baby. It's honestly weirder that you heard me say all of that and that's your only reaction."

A/N: Hahaha totally not something to sate you guys as I continue working on the Cheol angst fic... (Please help me I'm 3000 words in and still haven't gotten through half of my bullet points) Tbf I did say it was gonna be long though... First Vernon fic though! Plus comeback around the corner, yeah let's all talk about all the whiplash that's been going on in Caratland rn...

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda @porridgesblog

[n0tamused]

Midnight thought that popped into my head… If you watched Spirited Away, do you remember a bunch of little black soot balls that carried coal around? What if the reader also works at the academy and has made herself a bunch of those little robots to fetch tools when she needs them? Imagine working on something with these little goofballs running around, making high-pitched robot noises and being useful at the same time, what a dream. The second part is, what if some of them started running to Xiangli Yao's office (and Academy too) to get tools (screwdrivers, hammers, etc.) because they couldn't find them in our office due to some errors (or some other reason)? Which led to a funny little investigation of missing items? Honestly saw it as already established relationship, but could be used as push-to-confession maybe? Can definitely see something like this: -My little babies would never steal! -Your… babies? -Erm, never mind…

Honestly, use this however you like if you do, the possibilities are endless and fun, no matter how you twist it, I have just come up with an example.

A/n: this was awfully sweet, but even with that I didn't imagine it would turn out this long. I do hope this is what you had in mind. I really enjoyed writing this. And hey, first Xiangli Yao fic! Yipeeee

Contents: Xiangli Yao x Reader, she/her pronouns, fluff

Words: 4221

Steel Hearts

Little pitter-patters of feet echo down the empty corridor, the sound accompanied by the low mechanical buzz that could be said to be a coo or a call. Xiangli Yao had yet to get used to the new tiny companions around the Academy, although they made for an endearing sight when they got together to work. Xiangli Yao steps to the side of the corridor, slowing down his step as he notices a few Aideroids rush past diligently, carrying a few empty petri dishes, box of gloves and some unlabeled material samples. He tilted his head as they passed by, clicking and clacking without paying him any mind, like a line of ants as they made it straight for their queen - you. It would seem that the confusion of the recent incidents at the Academy have rubbed off on the Aideroids as well, otherwise known as Assistive Intelligence Droids, judging by how scattered they seemed after your own office has been subjected to a little... disaster, to put it plainly. It has pushed you to share an office with your colleague until the renovations are done, and while you had adjusted well, the little droids would always stop by the old office or by his own next to yours before finding you at last.

Xiangli Yao admired them and once he had run into a droid in the corner of his office that had gone down due to battery problems. He had fixed it up for you then. The droids weren’t admirable by looks alone, but by their design as well with their creator behind them. Although they seemed to be a nuisance of a sight for Mortefi, even he commented on their usefulness. The only thing everyone was against was to make them capable of flight. You agreed that the sight of so many droids buzzing about wouldn’t be quite comfortable.

He continued on into his office, looking over the report he had yet to finish, one he was looking forward to writing out. The half done pages reeked of promise and satisfaction, as they would come to represent the best part of the job in Xiangli Yao’s eyes. The end, the fruits of his labor. He hummed something low in his throat as he glimpsed an error in his grammar, making a mental note to fix it up later as he swung the door open and closed it behind it, failing to notice that the door had been creaked open already. Muscle memory brings his feet to his desk, and as he goes to put his papers down he is greeted by several singular eyes looking up at him, all scattered on and around his desk. He blinks at them in surprise, and for a moment they mirror his confusion and shock in equal measure, but as no command or response comes from his mouth, they swiftly return to their ‘work’ at his tools. One Aideroid was carrying the rubik's cube he liked to keep in his office, oftentimes fidgeting with it when he came into a slump during work hours. The Aideroid chucked it over the edge of the desk with a ‘kahooo’ and another similar sound came from below, where another droid caught the cube. Another droid was already halfway to the door with screwdrivers and small container of oil he uses to treat his prosthetic arm - had the door been unlocked, the little droid would have managed to escape the office with Yao’s belongings. 

“Hey, hey, hey- now, little friend. It seems you have plans for my things-” he speaks to the droid with a light laugh in his tone as he manages to pluck back the oil and screwdrivers from its clasping hands before it could truly clasp down. “Has Miss. (L/N) been in such desperate need of oil that she sends you to take mine?” 

The droid looks up at him and the lenses of its eye narrow and zoom in on the towering figure of Xiangli Yao, yet, ever loyal and determined to assist you, the droid lets out a disgruntled beeping sound, almost like a little howl. Its arms stretched upward, waiting for the tools to be given back to its hold. 

“Ah, no, my friend. I’m afraid I cannot give you these back” he says and turns towards the desk just as the droid carrying his cube walks by, and Yao swiftly takes the cube back as well, and then the microscope from the next droid, and a few pencils from the next few. By the time he’s up to his desk again, he feels as if he went through an attempted robbery, his arms full of his things and behind him he hears several voices of dissatisfied and demanding droids. He holds onto his lighthearted demeanor, a gentle and amused smile plastered over his lips as he sets back his belongings on his desk and back onto the shelves. “Miss. (L/n) would not want you to rob her colleagues, would she now? I know you don’t like returning to her with empty arms, but I can’t be giving you my own research and tools so easily” he tells the droids as if they’re a bunch of kids and for a moment he expects to be greeted with more protests as the droids all but stare at him in grave silence. Thankfully they do not pose more verbal danger, and scatter to climb onto one another and skillfully open the door before moving out again. Xiangli Yao can only stare at the space they occupied, still trying to acknowledge what has just happened. He was about to shake the thoughts of before he remembered the droids he passed in the corridor, now realizing the tools and materials they carried were his.

______________________________________________________

Black bolded letters lined every page, and page after page you scanned the book for the chapter you needed to fuel your brain for power which you desperately needed for this experiment. You sigh in disappointment as you find the chapter of your favorite book ripped out, leaving the next chapter as some distant tale you were yet to understand. You close the book with a thump and push it aside, returning to another set of letters on your research paper and the propped up tubes and test tubes and cylinders before you. Testing biological matter and the effects of the Waveworn Phenomena on them came with its limitations, but for all of those you managed to achieve quite a few breakthroughs in the last few years. 

You found yourself just short of other achievements, it was just an arms reach away yet you were stuck. Not understanding where you began to go over the same papers again, going through numbers, chemical formulas and the hypothesis at the start, but the important puzzle piece was yet to be revealed to your mind. The sound of small feet do not alarm you as they buzz behind you and move about the office. They came and went the entire day, bringing you your torn book and some other less important things at the moment, yet you acknowledged their need to be of help- it was in their code. Just like animals which flee or fight naturally when confronted with danger, the Aideroids wanted to help when confronted with your frown and furrowed brows. They knew something was amiss, so by bringing you all the tools and materials you previously praised them for, their droids’ minds hoped to see and hear the praise once more to know their daily task had been fulfilled. Yet, the last few days have been filled with your stagnant moods with not a sweet word in sight. The loss of the comforts of your own office was palpable even with the adjustments you’ve made - nothing can beat having your own space to do with as you please.

Your head hands low over the papers, forehead resting on your clasped palms as you let your eyes close. Searching for the answer deep in your mind, you fail to see the way forward and your mind swiftly wanders to imagery of the open fields, summer days and your favorite food stalls. Aideroids made their way up the side of your desk, carrying the microscope between them in their strong little arms, and as they set it before you with a small thump, you looked up to see it, a look of confusion falling over your eyes. “Now, why have you brought me this, AIDE?” you ask the droid group who coo at you in unison. “I already have a functional microscope..” you added, sighing at their attempt to assist you with no success. But before you can reprimand them and ask whose microscope they’ve taken, you see more of the droids climb up the desk with a glove box and unmarked materials sealed in small boxes. At that you were a bit more alarmed. Sitting up straight in your chair you feel a wave of anxiety come over you as you’re made to guess whose research they just snagged up with no pardon. “AIDE, where did you get this?” you asked as you took one of the sample bags one of the droids offered you. You carefully unpacked it and took a quick look inside, a bit more relieved to find it was only dirt samples from god knows where. But the other baggies held materials you weren’t trying to mess with, judging by their looks alone through the translucent bag. 

The droids coo and click, and on your watch monitor you can see the transcribed text that they were trying to convey. 

‘Xiangli Yao’s office, Baizhi’s office’.

You had to physically stop yourself from face palming at the sentence. Your little helpful companions resorting to stealing from your fellow colleagues, one of them a renowned genius? You thank god that most of them have already left the Academy for the day, and others were on break.

“Please, give the rest of those to me… I’ll have to give you another code input, this can’t happen again - you can’t just take other people’s belongings” you gently scold while the many pairs of eye just look at you, mechanically blinking and adjusting their lenses as they try to comprehend why you didn’t like what they’ve done. You have already gathered the things they took, carefully cradling the items in your arms as you tell them to stay in the office while you go and return them - hoping to also clear your mind with this brisk walk.

You turn the corner from your current office, closing the door behind you and your mind is running, hoping your droids haven’t done any damage, even if you have put all the necessary codes into their system that avoided damaging things, but who's to say they can’t malfunction or accidentally push somethin or-

“Ah! Xiangli Yao!” you nearly squeal as you run into him when you turn to go down the corridor leaning to his office, and like a kid caught with their hand in the candy jaw, you flush with items that are obviously his in your arms. You take a few steps back to put a more professional and comfortable distance between the two of you. You swallow the lump in your throat, hoping the warmth you felt wasn’t as visible on your skin as you imagined it to be. 

“Ah, Miss (L/N), it is you, and with quite an interesting assortment of things in tow” Yao greeted back, his eyes quickly catching on to the items in your hold, a warm smile pulling on his lips. “I was just about to pay you a visit. It would seem your Aideroids have been up to some mischief as of recent”

“Mischief?” you countered almost instantly, and be it fatigue or the knowledge that the droids weren’t mischievous by their nature, you almost took it as an insult. “Oh, you misunderstand. They aren’t mischievous, Xiangli Yao. They just.. need some code tuning” you added with a stubborn shake of your head, holding the items closer to your torso. 

“Oh? And is that why they have resorted to taking my things without being given permission beforehand?” Yao retorted, his voice a warm honey. Was he teasing you? 

You couldn’t muster up a laugh, your lips pressing together in a tight line out of some nervousness for feeling so cornered. “Xiangli Yao..” you began, sighing as you nearly trailed off - he had his point, yet you couldn’t let your little droids be subjected to any form of insults, even in jest! “That doesn’t mean they’re mischievous. Although their objective is flawed in execution, something I’ll have to fix later, I assure you they did not mean to deprive you of your own ability to conduct your work. This is why I have come to return your belongings by myself and.. apologies on their behalf - although the fault is also mine own for not having foreseen such a thing happening with them” you told him, nearly rushing through the entire sentence. “AIDE has told me some of these materials are also from Baizhi. Do you mind taking back the ones that are yours?” 

Xiangli Yao looks on at you, letting you speak and he nods at the question. Did this make you so riled up, or was it him? He had to admit, he felt rather weak in his word arsenal now. This has in no way ruined his day, nor has he meant any offense to you with his quips. The interaction it all led to between the two of you felt sweet to his heart, as most encounters between the two of you during the day felt almost artificial, all work no soul chatter which he found himself craving to have with you. And both of you needed solo time to recharge, but now it felt like there was emotion behind it, there was a heart. Yao wasn’t about to simply let it go to waste. But what does he say to make you more at ease?

“Of course. Here, why don’t you come to my office, I’ll also help you sort the other items out that belong to Baizhi afterwards” he offered as he took back his things, and also some more to lighten your load as some seemed at the point of slipping past your fingers. “Your droids are quite skilled to unlock doors previously locked - have you taught them to pick at locks?” he asked, his tone genuine as well as he recalled an occasion where he overheard Mortefi complaining to you about AIDE ‘breaking into his office’. 

You sigh at the memory. “No. I have not taught them any of that. Their objectives and codes only revolve around listening to my orders and helping me work, I genuinely don’t know where they got it to pick locks..” you tell him as you walk side by side to his office. His presence felt as if he was pressed right against your side, even if there was comfortable space between you, or perhaps that was just you overthinking the situation. Xiangli Yao’s company was always welcome, you wished your paths crossed more often during work, but alas..

“Admirable, really” Yao comments, looking up ahead and hastening his step to open the door with his elbow, leaving it wide open for you. You walk in and you can already tell AIDEs has been through here. Xiangli Yao sets down the items he had in his arms, returning the ones that belonged to him to their right place.

“Have..have they damaged anything of yours?” You cautiously asked as you looked around, almost expecting to see broken glass or torn papers.

“Oh no, they've done no harm. They were quite adamant on taking my things, however” he chuckles. “The group that I encountered in my office even wished to scold me for not allowing them to take the items back to you. Kahooting at me and beeping, heh. They even picked up the oil for my prosthetic” he said as he turned back to look at you, noticing how your brows curled in a worried expression, the cogs and wheels turning so loud he could nearly hear them from where he stood.

You sigh for the nth time, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head. “I'm really sorry for this, they really aren't like this. I'm assuming that the loss of my office, which was coded as their own ‘HQ’  , impacted them more than I imagined. They wouldn't do any of this otherwise “ You adjust the few small items in your arms, the sample bags stacked on top. 

Xiangli Yao hums in acknowledgement. “I understand that. Thankfully, that is an easy fix until your office is done and ready for use again. I often see the little guys lingering in front of the locked doors of the office.. makes me think they’re rather sentimental about the place” he nodded thoughtfully, and as he talked he approached you again, taking the items from you even after you tried to give a word of protest. 

“Although, I also have a suspicion it is not just the loss of their ‘HQ’ that is making them behave like this” Yao added as he motioned towards the door again, having you walk out first. You did as he requested, but you closed the door behind him before he could try to. You look at him quizzically, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well..the droids’ objective is to help you reach an end in your research or daily tasks, yes? Have you perhaps not been able to reach an end of your work that the droids' could physically see? This is just my hypothesis but..uhh..” he trails off as he notices the weight of your stare, his eyes going back to the path ahead, focusing on going to Baizhi’s office. Was he being too prodding? 

You couldn't deny that his words held some water, but a part of you wasn't ready to simply say what you thought. The AIDE were a bunch of robots you created, scraps of metals and wires, and giving them any form of sentimental intelligence aloud felt wrong. Even if you treated them kindly and softly like puppies and cats countless times, you weren't going to risk being seen as soft and fragile in your workspace, in front of Yao no less. He wasn’t cold in any way, or unkind to either robots, people or animals - but you felt silly in your treatment of your helpful companions.

“Are you saying that the droids may have a.. small flaw in their system? Their code could use some fine tuning, that's for sure…” you replied, trailing off as you thought about it, relieving him of your gaze in the meantime. 

“Yes, that is what seems most plausible, although I do not know their code as well as you do” 

You nod and just shrug, too tired to think of inputting more codes and numbers, but you knew the task was unavoidable. “Yeah…I'll take a look at the codes once I'm back. Uh, you know where Baizhi keeps her things?”

“Not exactly in the way she has her things organized…but, we can just leave them in an orderly place. I can explain the situation to her in the morning for you, no worries” Xiangli Yao is about to hasten his step again but you make it a point to beat him to it, opening the door for him and keeping it open. You hear a huff of a laugh behind you but you do not immediately turn around to face him and see his expression. Yet when you do take a look, your heart jumps in your throat as he passes by you, giving you another one of his warm smiles.

You feel stiff compared to him, he who seems so carefree and professional. 

“You don't have to do that on my behalf. I'll just talk to her myself” you slide in next to him above Baizhi’s desk. It looks rather empty with how well organized it looks. Papers piled neatly on one end next to the simple lamp, pens in their pen holder, a few other things carefully tucked over the desk but besides that, there was nothing else on the desk. Everything else had its place on the shelves or in the drawers. You have to hold back your awe at it, remembering how much of an ‘organized mess’ your desk is. 

“It wouldn't be an inconvenience, Baizhi and I have a task we have to do together tomorrow,” Yao said as he sat the sample bags down along with the little boxes. 

You find yourself not knowing what to say, and suddenly you feel as if you're standing too close for comfort, your neck feeling too warm and you decide to pace away, taking in the office - one you have probably visited before but that fact wasn't important right now. 

“Coohoo, clack?” 

You both turn around and see several eyes staring back at you around the doorframe. 

Xiangli Yao chuckles as he sees that the little droids have, once again, managed to snag something of his to bring to you - this time the Rubik's cube from before. They murmur among themselves when they see him, and one at the front almost hisses when he approaches. The others rush in with the Rubik's Cube in tow, rushing straight to you. 

“Ah- not again…” you grumble as you crouch down to welcome your rowdy robot children in, taking the cube away from them as they crowd around your feet and tug lightly at the tail of your coat.  “I'm really sorry, Xiangli-”

“No, no, please, no need to apologize. Now that I look at this, I have a feeling they're trying to lift your spirits. Surely, AIDE realizes a Rubik’s Cube has no other use but momentary play”

You look up at him, joining in the stare group made from your droids who all can't seem to take their eyes off of him. 

“That…could be it. Hah, a rather cute thought, isn't it? I should give these guys a bit more praise, I think..” you feel yourself cracking slowly, the exhaustion and the weight of your unreached goals making your mind a fuzzy place. You feel your cheeks go warm again and cast your eyes down swiftly to take a look at your droids again.

“Quite so. Do you need help with the coding?” He suddenly asked as you rose to your feet, taking a careful step over the grouped up droids. You stumble and feel Yao grab onto your elbow to stabilize you. “Careful-”

“Thanks.. here's your, uhm, cube” you mutter as you hastily hand him the Rubik's cube even before you get to stand back properly on your feet. 

The droids coo in unison, first in surprise and then in relief when you don't fall. 

“And no, actually, I should be fine with doing the coding on my own. It will only take a bit, but anyway- I'd rather not be in your way any more than I already am.” You said as you found your feet again, the droids already gathering around your feet again and looking up at you and Yao unblinking. 

“In my way? Miss (L/N), you’re not in my way. I am offering you my help of my own free will, not out of pity or anything similar” he assures you and soon joins you in looking down at your droids when you fail to respond. This time he can’t help but notice the flush on your cheeks, but he doesn’t comment on it for your sake.

“These little ones are.. quite something” you added as your eyes gazed over them all, listening to their lenses “blink” and observe.

The droids huddle closer, almost climbing up over the other to reach better heights to either of you. His words from before strike you once more in that moment, and you find yourself thinking deeper about the issue at hand - although can you really call it an issue? The droids have done nothing but try their best to be of use to you, and not only in your work but in your mood as well. Would it be so wrong to treat them with a little more humanity? The droids seemed to favor Xiangli Yao in some ways too, as most of the items they brought back to you were his.

“Xiangli Yao..”

“Hm?” He tips his head to the side, looking over at you as you still observe the little ones.

“Could you actually..help me with these guys a bit? I think I want to do more than just coding changes, I'd like to add some more features - and you have more experience in this field than I do”

Xiangli Yao feels his heart swell with something he can't quite describe coherently in that moment, but he knows it is making him feel fuzzy and energized. “Of course! I'd love to - spending some time with these droids is going to be a time well spent”.

Although he loved the droids on their own, he was more so looking towards spending time with you. And where the droids were is where you are.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[hsr-writing]

I'm absolutely heartbroken by 2.5 and my boy Jiaoqiu my beloved. Jiaoqiu x reader, sfw, fluff/minor angst, Jiaoqiu is non-verbal, established relationship.

Jiaoqiu wakes up slowly, the weight of the bandages around his eyes feeling alien still. The blanket he's under is heavy, he thinks it might be a weighted one, and he can feel a few tangles in his tail's fur. How frustrating.

Someone is sitting next to his bed, and he can hear the quiet tapping of fingertips against a screen. One of his ears twitches as he focuses on the presence, trying to glean any information he can.

They smell familiar, herbs and healing balms, but under that there's apples and cardamom. He knows that smell. His hunch is confirmed when you speak softly.

"You're awake," you say, your voice warm with relief. "It's been a few days since you last woke up. You're healing well, if slow."

Your assurances feel numb, like they roll off of him like water meeting oil. He lifts a hand, blindly reaching out towards you and he's never felt more lost.

You take his hand, not even minding the way he grips yours just a little too tight. He holds your hand like a lifeline, and all you do in response is give his a comforting squeeze. Jiaoqiu lets himself take a moment to breathe, focusing on the heat of your hand and your own breathing.

After a few moments, you quietly tell him, "You just missed Moze and Feixiao. They've barely left your side if they can help it."

He feels you place a hand on top of his, gently petting the back of his hand. Your hands are soft, your callouses from writing instead of fighting. He soaks in the little details about you that he never felt important to notice.

"... We've been worried," you murmur, your thumb soothing over his knuckles. "I'm... I'm so glad you're awake."

He opens his mouth to reply, only to realize he just... can't. He's physically capable, but he's just so tired, so bone deep exhausted that words won't come to him. He closes his mouth with a frown, then twists his hand in yours so he can write against your palm.

I'm sorry.

You take a shaky breath, then he feels you lift your joined hands, pressing them against your forehead, almost to mimic the way you've pressed yours against his in the past.

"I know," you say, and your voice is unsteady. "I understand why you did it, the logic is sound, and it was strategically a good idea. But gods, Jiaoqiu, I- When they told me what happened-"

You cut yourself off, your voice choking, and take a moment to breathe.

"I was so scared I'd lost you," you murmur, like saying it out loud will tempt fate. "I'm so, so glad you're alive, A-Qiu"

Jiaoqiu's heart hurts, your sincerity and relief almost overwhelming. He tugs your hand, blindly pulling you down towards him. You bring his hand to your face and he's grateful you understand him so well.

You give him the ability to guide your forehead to his, giving him that control he's already desperately clinging to. As you hold still, foreheads pressed together, he slides his hand into your hair, sighing softly at the familiarity.

"I missed you," you murmur softly, and it makes his heart sing. He smiles, nuzzling a little and hoping you'll understand. You huff a tiny laugh, bringing your hand to his cheek, your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone.

"I love you too."

[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser two]

✩ series m.list | taglist form ✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s. ✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort ✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader ✩ word count: 1.4k | [full fic: tbd] ✩ rating: 18+. minors dni. ✩ warnings: a little more pining between husband!hee & wife!reader, a bit of outsider help. nothing explicit ✩ author's note: hello everyone! i just wanted to let you all know that i am trying my best to get this fic out before the end of the year (and if i don't, i do go on winter break from uni in early december! so we can expect a few fics in that time.) this being said, i will add a taglist link here as well as the series masterlist because i cannot for the life of me keep up with urls at the moment. the people tagged below have already been added to said taglist, but if you wanna jump on and don't see yourself tagged, please fill out the form linked above! thanks!

Heeseung knows that Dr. Bahng told him to leave work at work. However, Dr. Bahng said nothing about bringing home to work. He said nothing about thinking about you at work, or missing you, or daydreaming about you instead of analyzing the reports that a pair of rookies messed up. He also said nothing about reading articles by some sketchy romance columnist on how to keep your relationship alive, which is exactly what Heeseung was scrolling through right now. 

There are things in a relationship that must always be shared in order to avoid, or resolve conflict. How the other person is making you feel, how you are making them feel, and how to tackle both negative checklists properly. It is key to always remember that it must be you and your partner against the problem, not you and your partner against each other.

You make Heeseung feel…alive. You make him feel loved, cherished, and even at some bizarre times, worshiped. You make him appreciate waking up at the ass crack of dawn, your sleeping face relaxed as he peppers kisses across your warm skin – something he's thankful never manages to wake you up, but it adds to all the adoration he holds in his heart for you.

How does he make you feel? Dejected, neglected, rejected. Pushed aside for the true love of his life – work. You never bring it up unless he asks. You never brought it up until last July, when he was slumped in his office chair after drinking half a bottle of sherry whiskey, listening to music and thinking about yet another dead end that deterred him from finding Soyoung. You had approached him with a gentle gaze, a soft touch to his shoulder and asking about taking a shower together. You never questioned him, you never pressured him, you never tried to make him something you assumed he just wasn't – an attentive, doting husband.

And he remembers how he asked you, too. He remembers spinning around in his chair, asking you if he was everything you'd ever wanted. Asking you if he was living up to your expectations, as a husband, as a life partner, as a friend, even.

And he remembers the way you sighed carefully before perching on his desk. "You're everything I've ever wanted, and I'm sure you'll continue to grow and be even more deserving of the love I hold for you." You had smiled, your hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Nothing we can't work through, you know? If I was given a choice in another life, another world – I'd still choose you."

He will never forget it, and he can still feel the warmth of your lips against his as you led him to the bathroom. He can still feel the ache of your love on his skin from the way you held him under the running water, quietly basking in his presence as the mint of your shampoo filled his nose. Nothing is as special to him as you are. 

There are things that should routinely be shared in order to maintain a homeostasis of the calendar. Asking how their day was, if you have any ideas for dinner tonight, or if you'd like to do something this weekend to celebrate the mundane. It shouldn't be difficult to establish a routine with your partner, if you are in tune with them. A kiss goodbye in the morning, a warm embrace in the evenings. A shared meal, a shared bath, a shared bed. 

Heeseung can't remember the last time he fully checked in with you – you always have something to do. You always attempt new creative projects, and his fingers toy with the fabric of his slacks as he remembers that you hand stitched them. He thinks about how you waited for him all night yesterday, and the disappointment you must have felt when he arrived late. He thinks about how he just doesn't make time to tackle the problem that you two are constantly glossing over by being intimate – he knows you don't feel loved. 

He didn't ask you about your day yesterday, or the day before, or last week. He didn't ask you if you were sewing anything new, learning any new pieces on the piano collecting dust in the living room. He hasn't asked about your mother, but at least he knows you don't like to talk about her. 

Heeseung hasn't asked you a single thing about yourself, or your life, and he doesn't know how long it's been. Even last night, your eyes were focused entirely on him – the way his lips twitched when you said you liked the wine he chose, the way he pulled your leg over his in the booth you were sharing. You asked him about work, and he just shook his head as he pointed out the new menu items. 

You love him so selflessly.

Something that works for my partner and I is parallel play. We aren't necessarily doing something together, but we are present in the same room and doing our own thing. Knowing that he is there, and that if I need him, I can reach for him, adds a comfort to our relationship. Aside from this, we also come together every two weeks and address any issues we may be experiencing – both in our relationship and our individual lives. We resolve the issues about us together, and advise the other on our personal issues. Balance!

You do this a lot. If Heeseung is home, you'll wander to wherever he is and sit down where you can, and quietly go about your business. Sometimes it's a new cross-stitch, sometimes it's just putting a headphone in and listening to music. Sometimes you're giving yourself a pedicure, sometimes you're just sitting there staring at his corkboard of paraphernalia while matching your breathing to his. It was subtle, something you thought he'd never notice.

He sighs, exiting out of the tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. Tugging it on, he uses one hand to log out of his computer when he hears three knocks on the door. A lightness of the rapping knuckles similar to yours…and your smiling face appears as you crack open the door. "Surprise?" He hates that he can't bite back his smile, a few of his fellow officers wide-eyed at his expression. He nods silently, and you extend your hand for him when you hear his coworkers whispering about you. With a dejected look, you tuck your hand back into the pocket of your jeans, "Guess we don't want them gossiping, right?" "Right." He mumbles, his own hand twitching around the doorknob as he pulls it shut behind him. He wants to reach for you, embrace the warmth you bring, show you off to the people he often calls his friends. Sunghoon catches his eye, a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head. 

Heeseung reaches for you, but you've already made your way towards the door. Your smile has lessened as you open the door, holding it for him. "How was work?" You ask as he joins you in the cool air, and he wastes no time wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in close, his nose buried in your hair. You hesitate to wrap your arms around him, instead leaning back to try and meet his eyes. "Hee?" "Don't ask me about work." He mutters, before pressing his lips to yours softly. You let out a noise of surprise, but you can't melt into his touch before he pulls away. "I hate talking about work, let's talk about you. Over lunch." He takes your hand in his, gently pulling you to his side as he makes his way to the car. He doesn't see yours in the parking lot, so he only assumes you got a rideshare before you clear your throat. "Are you okay?" The words are slightly jumbled as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, helping you step in. "Hm? Why do you ask?"

"Well…you're actually out of the office. And you want to go to lunch…and you don't want to talk about work?" Your voice is meek, and it makes his chest ache as he reaches to buckle your seatbelt in for you. "I just want to spend time with you. Shall we?" His smile is a little forced, until he sees the soft gloss of embarrassment over your eyes. "Okay."

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

TAGLIST [those in red could not be tagged] @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @petalsofink @teddybeartaetae @chocminteu @moon0fthenight @delvziion @heeseungthel0ml @bbyjw @marimariiiiiiii @thenastone

[court-jobi]

Reheat

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (support-hero!reader x teacher Izuku)

Words: 2.5k

Rating: G~

Warnings: comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, work stress (livin' vicariously), talks of the future, a few fem pronouns used, but generally gender-neutral

Summary:

Izuku letting himself into your home after a long day has become comfortable background noise, and one you love to hear while you're bogged down. Work has been following you home all week. He's proud of you, without a doubt... But equally concerned when he sees your dinner half-eaten, your mind scatterbrained and racing faster than he can anchor you, and your angel eyes in desperate need of some TLC. He's cemented his place in your heart- and sees no reason he can't make himself at home here already.

A/N: do I have bigger fics in mind? Yes. Did I write this instead of sleeping bc I love soft, encouraging Deku? Also yes. Izuku Midoriya is a motivational speaker.

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

“Hey honey! I’m here!”

Over the tinny, background chatter of a podcast streaming from your phone, you call back to Izuku letting himself in.

“Hey you~” You throw interest into your voice, but still stayed tuned into your work.

“Ooo what’s this… What did you make here on the stove?”

“Risotto– it’s Italian~ has lots of veggies and good stuff in it,” you didn’t stop your typing pace, engrossed too heavily in getting an email out before you forget about it and Gmail has to ‘nudge’ you, again, “-gave it a Japanese spin with what I had in the house.”

“Oh wow– oh my gosh, honey– this is so good!”

You look up since your darling man has just appeared in your doorway, sparkly eyed to see you, but equally sated by what’s just graced his mouth. It was a meal you could babysit between taking a quick shower, getting ready for work, letting its flavors marry in the fridge throughout the day, and popping back on the stove that night.

“I’m glad, happy you like it~”

“D’you eat?” Izuku asks, midbite.

“Mhm. Little bit ago,” You motion to your bowl- but when he comes alongside you, he tuts over noting it's only half empty.

“You didn't finish- you feelin’ ok?”

Having circled back onto your screen, you double take again, this time caught by his perception check over you and feeling guilty. 

“Oh. Guess I didn't. I’ll nuke it up here in a bit.”

Izuku, setting down his bowl and starting the -normally alluring- task of rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms, comes to your side. However since you’re paying little mind to your peripherals, you missed the show the was making of it. A simple ask of ‘what’re you working on’ came from him, sounding no different than if he wasn't trying to make eyes at you; fact was, you just weren't paying attention.

“Just some stuff for the interns,” the sight of how many tabs are open on your split screen -and in your mind- make you sigh, “With this new role, I kinda feel like you some days. Lesson plans, processing their paperwork; it’s all the stuff you had to turn in as an intern– only now I'm the one dealing with it on the backend.”

Izuku sifted around though your training materials and your propped tablet making itself useful as a second screen. At your handwritten to-do list that’s one of the only things non-digitized nowadays, he makes an offhand comment that your handwriting is nice. It's the kind of cute, ‘blink-and-you’d-miss-it’ things he says that you just hum to, whether you were really listening or not.  

When you glance up to him again, you see he’s watching you with a caring gaze and feel caught.

 “What’re you looking at?” you tease, typing again to break the silence.

“A pretty girl…” Izuku teased lightly, “who doesn’t know when to take a break.”

You type away at his call out– the need for a night off at Izuku’s side is exactly why you've been working so hard at this. You figured you'd get some of this extra prep work under control now, so by the time he rolls around on Wednesday for your standing date n–

You freeze. 

Realizing what day it is in your planner.  It's Wednesday. For dinner.

“Oh my God- -you’re here.”

“Mhmmm~” Izuku really doesn't want to laugh, but his sucking in of a lip isn't hiding it well. 

“ohmygod imtheworst!!” you refresh your face in both hands, talking through the gaps.

“You are not!” Izuku chuckled, setting your notes down. “You just got busy with all the new tasks, because you’re just that good.” 

A faithful, scarred hand comes over to smooth over your back, pulling you over into a little half hug. You sink against him, relishing in his little forehead kiss. He can try all he likes to cure your embarrassment, but you look to him apologetically.

“I’ve never forgotten our dinner dates, ‘Zuku…”

Your darling shrugged unbothered, “Had to happen sometime. It’s no big deal.”

“Is to me,” you pressed- very much bothered.

“Honey,” Izuku chips your chin up, “You’re too hard on yourself. It’s ok, these things happen! I mean, you still made a delicious dinner; even if it was a bit of an oversight I would -in fact- be eating it.”

The pang of guilt hits you at forgetting. This was just a symptomatic sign that the brilliance of your taking on the additional role of Education Coordinator at the agency was perhaps an over-zealous one. Not only to be on-call for your base job as a linguistics quirk specialist, but to balance another full time role on the office hours end? Why did you convince Fatgum this was a good idea? It sounded like a stellar idea back at the beginning of the summer…

Now you’re forgetting not just who you’re supposed to be eating with- but also eating in general.

“I’m glad you did,” you boost Izuku’s elephant-like memory, “It feels so normal to have you here, it's not like I completely forgot I’d see you today. I just– maybe I… thought I was gonna take some to you, since I wouldn't see you till later in the week? I dunno.”

“C’mere- never got a real hug.” 

You rise at his hand’s insistence, and stretch up into his full, healing embrace. 

“Hi baby,” you cooed pitifully.

“Hi, my angel. Missed you today.”

You hummed at the affection, sinking into his neck more out of your residual misery.

Izuku simply took advantage of you being close to sway you in his wide stance- a dance, sans music.

“I appreciate you cooking so much for us,” he spoke gently from his perch over your shoulder, “I was looking forward to it all day, y’know? You’re always so thoughtful with everything you make.”

He’s pressing into you with compliments- against your hard wiring to accept…

“‘Zuku.”

“It’s true~ you’re generous! You remember what my favorites are, and leave out the stuff I don’t like; you even send me leftovers. And you make snacks and treats for when the midnight munchies strike– what can’t you do?”

“Zuku…”

“And you–” he runs a hand through your hair as he sways your shy self back and forth, “-- make for the most funny, beautiful, fascinating, most inspiring company I could ever hope to share a meal with.”

Head thunking onto his shoulder, you playfully land a closed fist on his chest with a muffled, whiny plea for him to stop.

He sighs, all in good humor.

“This streak of yours... I really have my work cut out for me, don’t I? Still can’t imagine how bad it must be in that brilliant mind that my incredible girlfriend has such a hard time accepting the tiniest compliment. Maybe it’s all that late night American comedy you watch...”

You exhale then fix him with your coolest look of sarcasm, anything to show that you have a modicum of having your shit together. So you cope with humor- who doesn't?

–shame that it looks too much like a pout and makes you decidedly not threatening at all, because Izuku just beams brightly at you in response.

“Oh! Now there’s my melty princess- I was wondering where she went.”

And at that, the aloofness was gone, and you snort into a laugh and hug him tighter around the neck. He even scoops you up and gives you one little twirl for good measure. 

When he set you down, Izuku cups your face in his hands and gifts you a few more forehead kisses before demanding your sights. 

“Now. We need to get you to finish eating first. Then, what can I do to help you tonight, hm? How can I make things easier for you?”

With a softer eye to your desk’s work, you sat back down staying connected to your ever doting Izuku by way of your hand in his. You tried again to focus back. You're newly refreshed by his affections and attempt for a more positive outlook, 

“Well, my goal of doing this tonight was so that I didn’t have to go in early tomorrow. Course, if I do run myself ragged tonight, I won't be any good to anyone there– or for you, here. But I think if I pare it down to just getting these e-sigs ready and getting their time-in checklists set up for their work study onboarding, that would give me a good enough start, and I can fill in the rest of their packets tomorrow. But that means I’d need -ugh- maybe… another hour of work tonight?” you looked to him for his approval, “I have a template, so it shouldn’t take me forever.”

“Alright! You’re the boss,” Izuku supported your plan with a smile, “How about I take care of the kitchen for you while you finish up?”

“You do not have to clean my kitchen!” you spouted back, offended– causing a laugh to burst from him, “It’s not funny! I didn’t ask you to come over after a day of work yourself to just slave away at my mess.”

Izuku fixed you a look, as if you knew better. 

“I think I can tidy up a kitchen, no matter how busy of a day I’ve had. Yours isn't even over yet- so when precisely were you going to have the energy to hammer at it? You’ll enjoy not having that mountain waiting for you.”

You huffed, but smiled gratefully all the same. 

“Besides, it’s just me- doing something nice for the woman I love; and I happen to like doing nice things for you. You deserve a clean space, hun.” 

He cleared off your previous bowl to reheat along with your empty water cup. Shaking the hollow straw inside to where it clinks, he knows exactly what you need and tells you so.

“You are getting a screenless break first, though. Something tells me you didn’t the first time around~”

Settled with a fist propping up your face, you swooned over this darling man. 

Trusting Autosave to have done its job, you shut the laptop down blindly, “Sure didn’t~” 

Izuku just rolled his eyes and stepped out of the study. 

You neaten up the collated stack of applications laid out by you and stepped over to the couch, taking a kneeling perch on the end while you sought out a new record for the player on the side table. Setting one on, it was able to fire up and fill some new life into the room with a movie score you haven’t listened to in a while. Everything just sounds better on vinyl.

When Izuku came back in the room, he’d found his houseshoes and returned with renewed interest to your music choice- and with a pleased expression seeing you actually lounging and taking things easier than how he found you. He traded your reheated meal in exchange for your blue-light glasses, which he’d then clean with a pocket square and set back on your desk once they were smudgeless.

“Now, that’s a better sight~ here you go, all set for later.”

You enjoyed Izuku’s company while finishing dinner, listening to him outline his workday while he cradled your legs in his lap. He'd had a pleasantly eventful one, with plenty to say about it. You’d play ‘two truths and a lie’ sometimes when he didn’t want to bore you with a particularly mind-numbing schedule, which pleased you just as well. You excelled at it, while he gave away his fictions every time- a terrible liar for the game, but great for a faithful partner, you reasoned.  You truly loved hearing him talk and talk, your love only growing at the domesticity of this feeling and never wanting that to change. 

Once you were done, you were honestly content to hear him continue his tangent, but it seems his inner discipline was stronger than yours. 

“Alright, now to attack that sink~”

You bemoaned again for his sake. But since you made such a small, affected noise, Izuku paused mid-rise, and sat back down a bit closer to you. He stretched an arm over the back of the couch, encouraging you to come closer and met you for a sweet kiss in the middle.

His mere presence reverted you to a younger self sometimes– one desperate for his attention, good or bad. It wasn't the loveliest impulse, but he clearly thinks it's all part of your charm seeing as he gives in every time, anyway.

“Thing is,” Izuku spoke softly while adoring the hand now placed in his, “If things keep going the way I think they’re going -the way I hope they’re going- it’s.. not hard to imagine that there’s gonna be both our dishes to clean up all the time. In our kitchen, in our home someday. So this is just practice, right? Seems perfectly normal to me. How it should be.”

That idea bloomed in your chest, the thought of sharing a home with him- where this exchange of chores and time together could be your new normal. Only it would be a future where he didn’t have to leave at the end of the night and go back to a bed with compact, collegiate-designed storage at the campus accommodations he stays in on the instructor's wing. He’s got enough to get him by, but he noticeably prefers your home here closer to downtown.

“And what happens when we both wanna ditch the dishes?” you countered sweetly.

Izuku smirked, “That’s what a dishwasher is for. Another thing we’d own together…”

“Forward thinking, there.” You relished that idea. 

Izuku nuzzled your forehead thoughtfully. 

“You’ve been doing things on your own for a long time– and it shows, sweetheart.”

His words came carefully, from a tender place spoken in confidence between you, referring to when you’ve spent other late nights like this one fueled with hot tea and a desire to keep ignoring the clock.

“And I know you’ve been used to that since you’ve been traveling so much, not even having roommates to help keep you company or lighten the load. I keep wishing I could have known you sooner, had more time with you before you had to learn some of those things the hard way… but I’m happy I get the chance to, now. I’m here now, and you’re not alone, so I hope you’ll let me take care of you when I can.”

With another happy sigh forcing your eyes shut, the mental will it took to not let the tears of a perpetual eldest daughter leave you was intense.

Izuku Midoriya never failed to hit the nail on the head when it came to pep talks; he does the same with his students. But why his ones aimed at you had to have a Full Cowling dash of heartfelt anecdotes in it, you don't know. But you're grateful. You're so grateful for him. 

“If you don’t quit talkin’ like that, Izuku, I will never let you leave this condo.”

He chuckled again, lifting your cheek for another kiss, “Twist my arm, love.”

Ultimately, he rose to quit distracting you, but not without you watching him leave with a hunger you’d never felt for another soul before. 

[flowersforchoso]

Back to you

summary: bi-han is going on a mission, but you don't want him to. husband!bi-han x reader. cw: angsty, slight hurt/comfort, established relationship, domesticity. nothing too serious

it was one of those nights were you found it hard to sleep because your thoughts raced a thousand miles per hour. bi-han was going on another one of his long missions, which wasn't surprising; only this time, there was a lingering dread you couldn't quite shake off.

you knew what you were getting into by being involved with him. you just didn't envision it would always be like this: that all of his days would be spent away from home, away from you.

but you couldn't fault him entirely, he was a busy man, with an entire clan to govern. still, deep in your heart, you wished he set consideration aside for you.

even during your honeymoon—what was supposed to be an intimate period, free from interferences—his duties still took precedence, effectively casting you aside; placing you on the backburner. and the worst part? he never once protested, his priorities were clear.

he doesn't belong to you, even though you're evidently bound to each other.

you once thought about asking him if the lin kuei needed more members that you'd like to join since it seemed to be the only way you'd get his undivided attention, but had an inkling your attempt at jest would be poorly received, so discarded the idea entirely

you tossed and turned, trying to ease your anxiety but it was no use; eyes landing on bi-han's back, who was no doubt fast asleep.

shifting your gaze to the ceiling above, you blankly counted sheep hoping you'd eventually tire out and succumb to sleep. when that proved to be ineffective, you resumed tossing and turning, which provoked a response from your husband.

finally

"what is it?" his voice is groggy when he calls you out for disrupting his sleep. there's a certain softness to it, and you bite your lip, seeing this as an opportunity to share your thoughts, even though you knew it would lead nowhere, as always. but what harm was there in trying?

"must you go?" you didn't expect the words to come out in a squeak, but you're certain he heard you loud and clear, his reply made that evident

"we've talked about this, i won't repeat myself." his tone is sharp this time, it's obvious he's irritated by your goading, but was it really a bad thing to show that you cared, that you needed him, that you prioritized his wellbeing above all else?

"i feel like it's a bad idea" you swallowed, not allowing his iciness deter you from speaking. "i've been having nightmares. my intuition tells me—"

"your prattling disturbs me. cease it and rest." and with that, silence fell, signaling that no further discussion was needed. there was nothing new to say; you knew that, so did he. getting bi-han to change his mind was an exercise in futility, no different from trying to teach a pig how to fly—it was simply impossible and yet, you persisted.

perhaps his stubbornness had begun to rub off on you. it is said that couples often mirror each other, though you weren't sure how true that was. but if it were, you wished he adopted your traits instead.

sighing, you resign yourself to fate. but not long after, a certain thought crops up in your mind, making your eyes twinkle at the opportunity to turn lemons into lemonade; despair into joy, if only for a moment.

"can you... can you hold me? i'm finding it difficult to sleep." you finally confessed your troubles, hoping he wouldn't deny you something as innocuous as cuddling. contrary to popular opinion, bi-han wasn't all that affectionately challenged. he had the capacity for romance, although his displays of tenderness were few and far in between and sometimes difficult to decipher.

seconds soon turned into minutes, and when silence accompanied inaction, you dejectedly muttered, "goodnight bi-han," as you curled into yourself under the covers.

the next morning, you awoke to the sounds of muted shuffling. bi-han was already up, nearly dressed in his familiar lin kuei getup. you yawned whilst rubbing your eyes, then got out of bed to make your way towards him.

"shall i brew tea?" his back was facing you when you asked, but then he turned to meet your eyes, brows slightly furrowed. "i'm not a child, i can fend for myself if need be."

you only shook your head, fully aware of his disposition and refusing to take his words to heart. "i'm well aware; i just want to help in some way, be useful to you"

"go back to sleep." his dismissiveness made you struggle to hold back tears, but a sob managed to escape your now quivering lips. "how can i, when my husband is leaving?"

"bi-han, please. for once in your life, acquiesce." your eyes squeezed shut in frustration as you pleaded with him to rethink his decisions. it was a pitiful sight, and you were on the brink of bursting into tears at this point—the culmination of your feelings regarding this situation, and perhaps your marriage with him.

as expected, he is unmoved by your outbursts and heads for the bedroom door. you blink away tears before following him into the living room

"i don't have the time and my patience is growing short." he gruffs, already standing near the doorway, about to make his exit. tears are streaming down your face now; you've tried. you've only got one appeal left.

"promise me..." you sniffle, "promise me you'll return home—right here, right back to me"

bi-han's expression softens at your crestfallen countenance. a sliver of guilt tugs at his heartstrings, although you'll never know. he'll never afford you that privilege

"be at ease," he calmly assures. "do you need constant reminders that i'm grandmaster of the lin kuei, not some third-rate lackey?"

this time, you let out a sorrowful chuckle. his bravado is so typical, ego larger than the size of two planets. you firmly rebuke him, showing your seriousness on the matter. "that's not the answer i want to hear. promise me you will return, bi-han"

those words prompted him to act. and act he did, moving closer to you and gently placing a hand on your cheek. you embrace his touch, silently praying for this moment to not end while the tears flowed, seemingly neverending

"i'll return to you. come hell or highwater, neither will prevent me because it is destiny to be with you. i solemnly promise you this."

his words, rather than comforting, were far from it. yet you believed him regardless, because what else could you do besides blind belief?

as if sensing your doubts, he seals his promise with a quick kiss on your forehead, leaving you longing to uncover and experience more of the warmth hidden beneath those frozen layers. but it's too late for that as he backs away and sets off on his mission, not once looking back at you.

you don't know why your heart is suddenly constricting, but his absence is already palpable and engulfing. both of you, unaware, chaos and all its conundrums awaits him while you remain, waiting and pondering, as a pulse continues to grow within you.

wallowing.

[604to647]

Sniffles

1.5K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

A/N: Inspired by @bebsjo’s ask about Tim wanting to take care of Shutterbug when she’s sick. I answered it but couldn’t get the thought out of my brain; thank you for the ask, love - please consider this a more complete answer! 💕

This is our The Rockford Portfolio couple but as always with their stories, can be read as standalone (though there is a relationship milestone in this one 😊).

Summary: You’re sick and you don’t want to give Tim your germs.

Warnings: None! Fluff. Snot. Soft!Tim, established relationship, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous).

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 / Series Masterlist

Tim is just putting the finishing touches on the arrest report for a pair of mid-level Pie henchmen when his cellphone starts to buzz with an incoming call.  He picks up upon seeing from the caller ID that it’s you, “Hey Shutterbug.”

“Hey baby,” you croak.

“What’s wrong?  Where are you? Baby, are you okay?” Tim stands up, ready to sprint out of his office to get to you.

Laughing at your sweet boyfriend’s reaction to a simple cold, you try to talk him down from the ledge in a soothing, albeit scratchy, tone of voice, “Don’t worry, Detective - it’s just a cold!  But I left work early so I wouldn’t spread my germs around.  I took some medication and I’m just getting into a bed with a hot cup of tea right now.”

“Can you FaceTime?  Need to see you, gorgeous.”  Not that he doesn’t believe you, Tim would just feel a lot better getting visual confirmation that you’re all tucked into bed, getting the rest that you need.

Your tired but still cheery face lights up Tim’s phone screen, and he exhales a little sigh of relief to see you already in your pajamas even though it’s still early afternoon, “Do you have everything you need?  Soup?  Drugs?  Tissues?  Throat lozenges?”

“I do, Tim – thank you, but baby,” the you on his screen chews your bottom lip and looks at him apologetically, “I don’t think you should come over tonight.”

Tim tilts his head, confused, “What do you mean?  Who’s going to take care of you?”

You start to laugh but it immediately devolves into a coughing fit, “I’ll be fine, Detective!  It’s just a cold – I’ll take drugs, I’ll sleep, I’ll get better.  I don’t know how contagious I am, but I don’t want to get you sick, Tim.  I know you.  You’ll insist on going to work even when under the weather and you’ll be miserable.  While I’m sick you should stay at your place, just to be safe.”

“But-”

“No buts, Detective.  It’s not my first cold!  I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Tim is about to respond when his Captain peeks her head into his office and gestures with her hand for Tim to follow. 

“I gotta go, Shutterbug, but text me if you need anything and I’ll bring it over, okay?  Feel better soon, baby.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Detective Rockford.  Be safe!”

Four days.

You’ve been sick for four days.  Tim takes some solace in knowing that you’ve taken the time off work to properly recover, but still… it’s been four days.

After the first night back at his house, Tim takes to sleeping on the couch in his office.  Even though the mattress in his master bedroom is indisputably less lumpy, the couch is less depressing.  At least his office is something: it’s work.  His house constantly reminds Tim of what it is not: it’s not his home. It’s not with you. 

Every time you and him talk on FaceTime, you’re decidedly still sick (are you actually getting worse?!) and the tiny bit of hope Tim harbours that he’ll be able to come home to you soon evaporates.  He decides not to tell you where he’s been sleeping - you’ll just worry for his back, and then he would have to explain how miserable he is without you and make you feel bad.

Instead, Tim listens as you tell him you took yourself to the doctor to learn that you have the flu, not the cold, and listens at your wheezing laugh at how ironic it is that you had your flu shot scheduled for next week.  Tim nods approvingly when you confirm that you’re having groceries and meals delivered and bites his tongue from saying that he could - wants to - do all that for you.  He watches as you trudge to the kitchen in your bathrobe with your runny nose and messy hair to make food, and he tells you you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen - because you are.  You tell him he’s silly but still give him the biggest smile you can manage in your exhausted and achy state.

You fall asleep every night while still on the phone with Tim as he tells you all about his work day and his current case, lulled to sleep by his soothing baritone voice.  Even after you’ve nodded off, Tim doesn’t hang up right away – partially to make sure your breathing doesn't get too laboured through your stuffed up nose, but mainly so he can look upon your peaceful visage for a little while longer.  He misses you so much.

By night five of sleeping without you pressed up against his chest, Tim has had enough.  After work he makes stops at the grocery store and pharmacy before heading to your place.  Laden down with bags full of soup and frozen lasagna, cold medication, ice packs, a new hot water bottle, cough drops, plus one plushie (something called a "Squishmallow"? Its "bio" on the tag says she’s a nurse) among other supplies, Tim turns his key in the lock of your apartment for the first time in nearly a week.  Immediately, he’s hit with the familiar scent of your perfume and the peppermint of the tea you’re currently making; he knows you're in the kitchen just from the soft shuffling and sniffles he hears - all of it a comfort to his senses.

Now all he has to do is see you and hold you and he can finally feel complete.

At first you think you’re hallucinating when your big, burly detective appears in the doorway of the kitchen.  You must be sicker than you thought - or maybe you accidentally took an extra dose of flu medication?  But the strong, thick arms that wrap around you feel real.  And the rough hands that cradle and massage your head feel soothing.  You melt right into that hard but cushiony chest despite not being 100% sure it isn’t a figment of your fever addled imagination.

“Whhhharrhwudoongnhrrrrtm?” you mumble.

Petting your hair indulgently, Tim chuckles, “Want to say that again, Shutterbug?”

You tilt your head back to look sleepily at your handsome boyfriend, “What are you doing here, Tim?”

“I’m here to take care of you, baby,” Tim says matter-of-factly, “You’re not getting well fast enough for my liking – I’m missing you too much.”

You melt a little at Tim’s puppy dog look, but sigh, “Baby, I miss you so much, too.  But if you’re here, you could get sick.”

Tim presses a soft kiss to your hot forehead, “Shutterbug, when we live together, we won’t be able to escape the other person when one of us is sick.”

Your gasp transitions into a cough and you have to wait until your throat clears before you ask, astounded, “You want to live with me?  Even with all this snot?”

Tim nods as if to say, even with all this snot, adding, “Only if you want, Shutterbug.”

You wonder how long he’s been thinking about this, “When were you thinking would be the right time for you to move in?”

Very aware that you haven’t actually agreed to live with him, Tim answers with truthful, but carefully chosen words, “I’m ready whenever, if ever, you’re ready, baby.”

You look up at Tim wide-eyed, trying to make sure that he means it - that he’s serious about taking this next step in your relationship; when you see nothing but eagerness in the softness of his eyes and the steadiness in his bright, reassuring smile, you throw your arms around Tim’s neck, germs be damned, “I’m ready, Detective!! As soon as I’m better, please move all your stuff in!”

Tim hugs you back tighter than he probably should - absolutely over the moon that he’s never going to have to leave your side again, that he and the woman he loves are going to make a home together.  So lost in his own reverie, he’s jolted back when you let out a whimper of pain, “Oh fuck, Shutterbug, did I hurt you?”

Shaking your head, you’re still beaming at your considerate boyfriend, “No, I’m just achy all over, all the time.  You could never hurt me, Tim.”  You genuinely believe this with all your heart.

“How about I run you a bath with these bath salts I bought and you have a nice warm soak while the lasagna heats up?” offers Tim.

“Will you sit with me while I’m in the bath, Detective?”

“Of course, gorgeous.”

“And we can make plans for the big move in?” You grin, eyes twinkling - you haven’t felt this energized in days.

“Nothing I would like more, baby,” Tim smiles as he hands you the plushie cat he bought you, grinning even wider when you squeal with excitement and crush the stuffed animal to your chest in elation.

You titter with happiness, grabbing Tim’s hand to lead him towards the bedroom. But when he doesn’t come readily, you turn back and to your confusion, you see Tim wincing, the hand not in yours reaching behind to press against his lower back as he arches in a painful stretch.

Eyes narrowing, you place the hand that’s still clutching Cassie the Nurse on your hip and tilt your head suspiciously, “Timothy. Where have you been sleeping?”

Btw this is Cassie the Nurse:

[welcometomytrashcan]

Before the Dawn: Chapter III // Logan Howlett

Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader Chapter 3/4 Read Chapter 2 here Word Count: 1369

Background: You are a mutant with hydrokinetic abilities (think Percy Jackson meets the mermaids from H2O), and arrived at the X-Mansion 4 months before Logan. You started dating Logan after the events of X-Men but before he left for Alkali Lake. You are both in love with each other but have yet to confess it. Takes place within the events of X2, Canon violence, pre-established relationship

With adrenaline pumping through your veins, you and Logan sprinted through the collapsing base. The roar of the dam’s crumbling structure echoed through the metal corridors, water already starting to flood certain sections. But that wasn’t your focus. Right now, you had to find Stryker and stop him—once and for all.

As you stepped outside, you spotted Stryker near a helicopter, preparing for takeoff. Logan moved fast, grabbing Stryker by the throat and slamming him against the helicopter, driving his claws into his sides.

Stryker screamed in agony.

"How does it feel, bub?" Logan growled.

Stryker gasped, "Why did you come back?"

"You cut me open. Took my life. You tried to take Y/N's too," Logan snarled.

Stryker managed a twisted smile. "You make it sound like I stole something. You volunteered for the procedure. As for Y/N... I wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity."

Logan's claws dug in deeper, and Stryker winced.

"Who am I?" Logan demanded.

Stryker smirked. "You're a failed experiment. If you knew your past—the kind of person you were, the work we did—you’d know people don’t change. You were an animal then, Wolverine. You still are."

Stryker glanced at you with a cold grin. "He’s still an animal now."

He turned back to Logan. "I just gave you claws."

Suddenly, an alarm blared from the distance. The ground trembled as the sound of metal screeching and concrete cracking filled the air.

"What the hell is that?" you asked, alarmed.

Logan pressed his claws deeper into Stryker, demanding, "What is it?!"

"The dam’s ruptured," Stryker said through clenched teeth. "It’s going to flood the spillway. It’s too late. In a few minutes, we’ll all be underwater."

You and Logan exchanged a tense look. Stryker glanced between you both, sneering. "You can’t save your friends. They’re as good as dead."

He turned back to Logan. "You’re a survivor. Always have been."

Logan’s face hardened. "I thought I was just an animal—with claws. If we die, you die."

Without hesitation, Logan ripped his claws out of Stryker and shoved him against the helicopter’s wheel, securing him with a chain. You stepped forward, melting the snow beneath him and freezing it again, pinning him to the ground.

"We have to find the others," you said urgently, pulling Logan’s attention back to the base. The rumble of the dam breaking grew louder.

As you started to walk away, Stryker shouted after you both. "There are no answers that way!"

Ignoring him, the two of you raced back toward the base. Jean, Scott, Storm, the students—they all needed to get out before the dam collapsed completely.

The base was shaking violently by the time you reached the others. They were about to head down a pathway that would’ve led them to certain death. Logan thrust his claws into a control panel, slamming a door shut.

"You don’t want to go that way," you called out. "Follow us!"

You helped guide the group back outside, everyone moving as quickly as they could through the snow. But when you reached the spot where the helicopter had been, it was gone.

"Damn it," Logan muttered, scanning the horizon. Panic started to creep in, but then, through the clouds, you saw it—the jet. Rogue was at the controls, with Bobby helping her.

The jet descended, wobbling dangerously as Rogue struggled to keep it steady.

"She’s not going to make it," you said, fear creeping into your voice.

Rogue managed to land the jet roughly onto the ground.

"Go help them onto the jet!" Logan ordered, his tone sharp but firm. "I’ll catch up."

"What about you? What are you—"

"I need to take care of something," he interrupted. "Go."

Reluctantly, you nodded and ran toward the others, helping them board the unstable jet. Despite the chaos, you kept it together, focused on getting everyone to safety.

Once everyone was aboard, you glanced back and saw Logan confronting Stryker again. Stryker was chained up, thanks to Magneto, and Logan stood below him.

"Who has the answers, Wolverine?" Stryker taunted. "Those people? That creature you’re with?"

Logan didn’t reply. He glared up at the man who had ruined his life, the man who had turned the woman he loved into his own weapon. “I’ll take my chances,” Logan spat, tearing off his dog tags and dropping them at Stryker’s feet before turning his back on him.

As Logan walked away, Stryker shouted after him. "One day, someone will finish what I started, Wolverine! One day!"

Logan jogged back to the jet, leaping inside just as the ground shook violently beneath you. The dam was about to burst.

"Are you okay?" you asked as he rejoined you, your hand brushing down his arm in comfort.

Logan gave a small nod. "I am now."

He planted a firm kiss on your forehead.

"Come on, get us out of here!" he called, strapping himself in.

Storm and Scott scrambled to start the jet, but the engines sputtered and failed. The cabin filled with tension as everyone realized that the water was coming fast.

“Why isn’t it working?” you yelled, fear rising in your throat as the water rushed toward the jet.

And then, in the chaos, Charles’ voice softly called out. “Jean?”

You looked around, suddenly realizing Jean was missing. Panic gripped you, and you shot a glance toward Scott, who was frantically looking around as well.

“She’s gone,” Scott muttered, his voice strained. “Jean… where is she?”

You bolted to the back of the jet, searching for any sign of her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you screamed, “Jean! No! You can’t do this!”

But as you reached the door, it slid shut in your face. Through the window, you saw her standing outside, her eyes glowing with power, her face set in grim determination.

“No!” Scott yelled, banging his fists against the glass. “Jean! Don’t do this!”

You felt a pang of guilt slice through your chest. You could’ve helped. You could’ve used your powers to manipulate the water, to do something. But your leg was still weak from the earlier fight, and you weren’t strong enough to control the water currents. You hadn’t been at the school long enough to master your abilities. I could’ve helped her…

Outside, Jean’s powers surged, and she lifted the jet with her telekinesis, guiding it into the air. The water from the dam swirled around her, bending to her will. She was holding back an entire flood.

You pressed your hands against the glass, tears streaming down your face as you tried to reach out with your powers. “Jean!” you called, but your voice was lost in the roar of the flood.

Scott’s voice broke, trembling with anguish. “Jean… please.”

But it was too late. With a final, heartbreaking glance at Scott, Jean guided the water around the jet, holding it at bay just long enough to save you all. The jet soared into the air, leaving Jean behind.

You searched desperately for her in the water, your hydrokinesis pushing you to the limit. But with the blood loss from your leg and the overwhelming force of the current, you couldn’t sense her. You weren’t strong enough.

As the jet ascended higher, the reality of what had just happened sank in. Jean was gone. And it was your fault. You should’ve been able to do something. You could’ve saved her.

The silence in the jet was deafening. Scott collapsed into his seat, his face pale and stricken with grief. You sat down, staring blankly at the floor, guilt clawing at your insides.

“I could’ve helped her,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. Tears streamed down your face, and the weight of Jean’s sacrifice pressed heavily on your chest.

Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice low. “It wasn’t your fault.”

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was. You’d failed her. You’d failed Logan. And now Jean was gone because of it.

The jet flew through the sky, but the atmosphere inside was heavy with grief and guilt. The battle wasn’t over, but as you sat there, surrounded by your team, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d already lost.

Tag List: @spacemacandcheese @oscarissac2099 

[desecrated-guacamole]

I know I’m *checks watch* twelve years late coming to this realization, and two years late to talking about it when it would’ve been at all relevant, but godDAMN

Young Justice wastes NO time being good after season 1. The producers really just said “hey, y’know all the characters and relationships you’ve loved seeing develop for the past 26 episodes? Well actually, fuck that, fuck them, and fuck you! Everything’s different now, everyone’s developed in new ways that you won’t get to see, but not even in a way that makes sense for a FIVE YEAR TIME-JUMP!”

Take Robin for example; in the five years that take place offscreen, Dick becomes Nightwing, Batman recruits Jason Todd as the new Robin, Jason Todd gets killed, and Batman recruits Tim Drake as the new-new Robin (oh and also Barbara Gordon becomes Batgirl). I love the Batfamily, but I can barely call it the Batfamily when we don’t ever actually see them becoming a fucking family! We don’t get to see Dick struggle with his mentor’s legacy, we don’t see Jason struggle to live up to the Robin that came before, or Barbara picking up crime fighting despite what Bruce tells her to do because fuck that guy. We don’t get to see any of them grieve Jason, we don’t get to see Bruce go off the deep-end, only to be brought back by a young Tim Drake, who shows him what makes Batman, well, Batman; helping those in need, saving people.

INSTEAD, we’re introduced to two characters we knew that are now wildly different with ZERO explanation as to why, and one that we’ve never seen before and is (so far in my watch) severely underwritten, but because they’re the characters we love from the comics we’re supposed to love them here. It’s using the iconography of the characters to get us invested without putting in any of the actual work DEVELOPING them as people. It’d be one thing if this was the first time we met any of them, but we’ve already been introduced to Barbara, and we’ve spent an entire season with Dick, but now both of them have undergone massive development we aren’t made privy to.

I read an interview with Greg Weisman talking about the time jump, and he says this;

“We wanted a big time jump between the first two seasons to truly illustrate what our series was about, i.e. GROWING UP. After that, honestly, it’s more about what feels right. There are always things we want to skip, so that they become reveals.”

Man, I wonder if maybe allowing the audience to actually watch the characters grow and change might illustrate that growing up thing better than just skipping ahead so you can make it a reveal??? Imagine a show where we get to see these characters grow up together, maybe even grow apart, some leave, some stay, some are replaced, some come back. Like, imagine getting to see Dick reckon with the fact that Batman REPLACED HIM, only to watch that replacement die! Imagine getting to see Tim Drake come to Dick for advice, instead of just skipping ahead to the point that they’re already an established team. Imagine getting to see M’gann help Gar learn to use his powers for the first time. Imagine the team throwing a goodbye party for Wally and Artemis! Imagine seeing Wally and Artemis continue to develop their relationship instead of just jumping to them being fully moved in and together! WE WERE ROBBED!!

Like I’m still gonna watch it (not in the least because my roommate’s already seen it) but I need everyone to know I’m doing it under duress. I love these characters, and they did not deserve this lazy bullshit. I do not understand how Greg Weisman made Spectacular Spider-Man because HOLY SHIT the writing decisions made on this show are pissing me off, and don’t even get me STARTED ON CONNOR AND M’GANN BECAUSE WHAT THE FU

[kaliforniahigh]

Request: "Matt Dierkes x wife reader smutty one shot where they get caught on the tour bus or other random places?" Thank you so much for the request!

Warnings: cursing and a steamy make out session but no actual smut (they get caught before the act)

WC: 1.6k (not proofread yet!)

Requests are closed for now.

You loved going on tour with Matt, specially since you worked together. You were a lighting engineer for the band and you met Matt when you started working for the band a couple of years back.

The attraction was instant between you and everyone could notice. The way he never got mad at you - quite the contrary, the boy always seemed to have an extra soft spot for you - and the way you always worried if he was well - tour could be pretty hectic and take a toll on your health - were a dead giveaway that something was blossoming between you.

Despite everyone rooting for you to get together, there were the people who warned you about working with your partner. They told you that it never worked, and that you would fight all the time.

But you always told them that if it ever came to it, you and Matt could separate your professional lives from your personal ones, because you were adults, after all.

Now, a couple of years later, you and Matt not only established a relationship, but you also decided to get married not too long ago. Most days it didn't even feel like working with your husband, because you just went about your routines as per usual.

It was rare that Matt got angry with anyone really, he was pretty chill overall and used to dealing with things going wrong, so you felt like nothing really affected him anymore.

Today, though, was one of those days where everything seemed to be going wrong. First, the tour bus broke down on the road because of the cold, which made you guys late for the concert. Then, some of the sound equipment decided not to work and the panels were off and no one could figure out how to get those damn things working.

You could hear the fans outside waiting to come in and the stress of being late already and not having things ready were weighing on his shoulders. You could hear him in the distance him talking on the phone with the venue manager. Something about how the hell was he not here to help with the technical difficulties that most likely were being caused by his shitty venue.

You left him to it, and since your lighting equipment was already set up - thank god this one thing worked out tonight - you went to help the other guys. Everything seemed to plugged in in the right places and still, nothing was working. Even Noah, Jolly and the Nicks were helping at this point.

"Guys", Matt approached you all with a sigh. "The venue manager told me everything was working accordingly just a couple of days go, which is obviously bullshit", he rubbed his forehead, a clear sign of stress. You wanted to smooth out the creases yourself, but refrained from it.

"How are we gonna perform without our equipment?", Jolly asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"That's the thing, I don't think we will", Matt answered. Every band's fear was becoming a reality right before your eyes.

"Are we gonna have to cancel?", Noah voiced what everyone was thinking. Matt only nodded. "What about the fans waiting outside?"

"I'm really sorry, this is really not what I wanted to do, trust me. We could try and find another venue, but we gotta be in another city tomorrow. We might have to reimburse the people who paid for tickets for today", you could tell he was disappointed in having to do this. Matt was a problem solver kind of person, and having to deal with a problem he couldn't solve was killing him.

After a little more debate, everyone agreed that canceling was the best thing to do due to the circumstances. Noah and the guys went back to the green room talking about how they're gonna sue the venue manager.

"I'm gonna go out there and tell those people that the band they love is not performing tonight. You guys can start loading the things back in the bus", he started to turn around, but you went after him.

"Hey", you called out and he looked at you. "I'll go with you. You don't have to do this alone", you took your hand in his.

"You don't have to do this, baby. I'm used to it, it's part of the job anyways", he reassured you, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.

"I know that you can handle yourself. But I wanna go with regardless", he only nodded, knowing it was useless arguing with you, and you followed him outside.

The annoucement was met with complaints, angry remarks and a few crying faces. Matt knew this wasn't directed at him, but it broke his heart regardless. All these people with the hopes of having an unforgettable night would have to go back to their homes without watching Bad Omens perform.

He said sorry one more time and rushed back inside the venue. You said sorry yourself and followed him. You looked around you and saw that your lighting equipment was already being loaded back in the boxes and decided to check were Matt headed to.

You asked around and a few people told you they saw him going in the direction of the bathrooms. You made your way down the hall and knocked on the men's restoroom door, hearing him answer with a "yeah" on the other side of the door. He was probably wondering who the hell was bothering him when he was in the bathroom.

"You alone in there?" you asked him. Recognizing it was you, he opened the door and you made your way inside, closing it again behind you.

"You just ran off, I got worried about you", you told him as you took his face in your hands.

"I got so angry when I saw all those people out there, just waiting", he huffed in frustration.

"I know, baby. But this isn't your fault, and it probably won't be the last time you'll have to cancel", you tried to reason with him.

"I know, I'm just so fucking mad at that fucking venue manager who told me 'everything is working perfectly, are you sure it's not your equipment that's low quality?'", he used air quotes to tell you what the venue manager has the nerve to tell him. "He obviously ripped us off because he wasn't even here, he knows his venue is fucking shit", he spat, in anger. You waited a few seconds to say anything, just in case he needed to vent some more. But he just took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"I'm sorry, you don't deserve to hear all this", he apologized, resting his hands on your hips. You let a little smile grace your lips. You knew how to make him feel better.

"It's kind of hot when you get all angry like this", you said with a low voice and a hint of playfulness. He finally cracked and smirked a little at your remark.

"Yeah? You like it, babe?", you nodded and pressed yourself closer to him. "You know, you're my silver lining in all of this, right?", he said, lips inches away from yours, eyes travelling between your eyes and lips.

"I think I don't. Will need you to show me", you teased him and in a few seconds, his lips crashed on yours, pushing you backwards with the force, your back hitting the marble countertop behind you.

The kiss was fervent, an indicator of his mood and how this bathroom rendezvous was gonna go. You both moaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as he hoisted you up on the counter.

His hands traveled up your torso under your shirt and you lifted your arms for him to take it off, you skin prickling with goosebumps from the cold air.

His mouth immediatly moved to kiss your shoulders and down the valley of your brests.

"Fuck, you're everything I need right now", he hummed into your skin and you only moaned in acknowledgment.

"Take your shirt off, please", you said, voice sounding a little breathless, and he moved away from your body to peel off the layer of clothing.

"C'mere", he helped you down from the counter and turned you around, pushing your head down and making you bend your back, ass up in the air.

He kissed your spine and ran his hand over the fat of your ass, delivering a spank that made you yelp in surprise. His clothed crotch was pressed into you, and you could feel how hard he was under his pants.

He was about to yank your pants down your legs when the door swung open, both of you whipping your heads to the side, only to meet the shocked expression on Ruffilo's face.

You were still bend over the counter when you heard Matt tell him to 'get the fuck out', and Nick muttered a few apologies before closing the door behind him.

You looked at Matt through the mirror in front of you and you both started to giggle at the situation. Eventually, you stood up straight and turned around to face him. It was like Nick's entrance popped your little bubble entirely.

"Probably not the best idea to fuck in the bathroom, huh?" you asked in a teasing tone.

"That's you pushing me to make bad decisions", he smiled and gave you a peck on the lips. "As much as I loved our little almost escapade, we should probably get back out there", he stated, in a little disappointed tone.

You agreed with him and you both made your way out of the bathroom.

"We'll stay at a hotel room in the next city and then I'll make sure to bend you over the counter and fuck you good", he whispered in your ear, making you stop in your tracks, mouth agape.

He kept walking and laughed at the state he just left you.