#goodnight fic
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ayyy-pee · 3 months ago
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waking up freezing and shivering, teeth chattering every night because your husband is a blanket hog. you know it's not on purpose. he just can't help it. doesn't even know he does it most times. you'd think after years together you'd be used to it, but waking up curled into the fetal position as you try to retain even a smidge of warmth is something you don't think you'll ever adjust to.
so you reach behind you, feeling your spouses large form wrapped snug as a bug in your shared blanket and you grip onto the fabric. you pull as hard as you can but you don't manage to move him even an inch. you try once more...same result.
"ken..." you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself. no response. "kento..."
he doesn't budge. you're tempted to just get up and go grab another blanket, but your husband, despite his seriousness, can get quite pouty when you do that. so you tap him hard instead sure to jab him in the spot you know is his most sensitive. this seems to do the trick as he grunts in response.
"I'm cold," you tell nanami and he sits up quickly, realizing what he's done. his pajama top hangs off one shoulder. his blonde hair is pointing every which way and sleep is heavy on his eyelids, threatening to weigh him down again any minute.
"I'm sorry, love," nanami speaks, voice rough and deep with exhaustion, but the sincerity in his apology clear.
then he's throwing the blanket back over you both. only he adds in a little extra warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist and throws a large leg over your body.
nanami buries his face in your neck, adjusting himself so that he can be as close to you as possible. only a few seconds pass before you hear his light snoring behind you. and you know the warmth you feel is from more than just his touch.
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sold2vlaykz · 2 months ago
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ONLY YOU
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Prompt: How slashers act when they’re jealous/outbursts/reassurance.
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MICHAEL MYERS
Believe it or not Michael is a very jealous boy. He just doesn’t believe he is, he is simply “doing what he usually does.”
When Michaels jealous it isn’t a pretty sight. He can become very hostile towards you or innocent bystanders.
Though he is very jealous it doesn’t happen very often, because he’s barely home so it’s unlikely.
When he’s mildly jealous he’d scare you, just to make sure you know who you belong to and simply kill whoever threatened your “relationship.”
If he’s very jealous, he’d actually harm you. Slight slices or soft choking. Taunting you by leaving bodies around the house.
Though don’t think just because he’s a little dangerous that he doesn’t need reassurance, it helps a little to watch you reject people.
Tell people you have a boyfriend, while mentioning his name.
Makes him almost fond of what you do, knowing that you’re his and you’re not ashamed to tell others that you are too.
If you did manage to make him feel slightly good he’d become even more protective, wanting you be only his and making it clear.
Sometimes you have to try and convince him to stay hidden when a neighbor or something knocks because of his jealousy.
There was one time he just popped out and stabbed the couple just because her husband looked at you a little too long.
And he wears the murders like a fucking badge of honor, sometimes seeing their heads propped up on a counter randomly.
Hearing you scream was another thrill.
But one thing that made Michael twitch, or snap. Some would even say go crazier is if someone would to hurt you, or even make you scream.
There was a time you had gotten into an altercation with someone walking down the street as someone let their dog shit on your and Michaels yard.
It was in the middle of the night too, and they had just left it there. The only reason you knew is because you caught them on camera.
So Michael being the lovely boyfriend he is he went to their house and slaughtered her teenage daughter, leaving her there to grieve.
You didn’t even find out until it was all over the news and the search for Haddonfield killer began again.
To be honest you didn’t even know what the two of you were, he just didn’t let you around anyone else, any men mainly. Or outside in general, courting you in his own animalistic way.
Sometimes if you made him incredibly angry he’d disappear, leaving you isolated after his killing spree.
After his jealous encounters he’d barely let you out the house, and you didn’t dare to disobey him even when he was gone because it was like he always had eyes on you.
Always lurking, it felt good knowing that you were protected, but not as much knowing he’d kill a person if they looked at you in the wrong way.
Jason Voorhees
Jason is super jealous, he could be considered murderous jealousy but typically he relies on your reassurance and loyalty.
There are times where he does kill when he feel like he needs too, but only when you seem to feel uncomfortable and harassed.
Jason is big and scary but when it comes down to you two he becomes soft, shy even.
After an outburst, he’d feel insecure a little ashamed he felt that way. He’d come to you, and sit there letting you comfort him.
Jason isn’t really vocal about how he feels so he relies on you to understand him by body language.
When you do he feels so excited, happy even. Nuzzling his head into you.
He doesn’t really get jealous just insecure, a bit of sad jealousy.
Though sometimes, very very rarely. When he’s angry and jealous he’d become overprotective. I mean he’d keep you locked up in the house.
Especially if you were almost hurt in the middle of the ruckus, he’d literally chain every exit or entrance of your cabin up and keep you locked in there until everything was over.
Sometimes you’d get into arguments because of how annoying his jealous habits could get.
Sometimes it’d either hurt his feelings and cause him to go into hiding or argue back, he’d thrash things around or yell. He couldn’t really speak so it’d just be verbal roaring.
He’d apologize after but his behavior is very repetitive and hard to deal with. Though he’s sweet enough to pick flowers and apologize harder later.
Bubba sawyer
Dangerously jealous, though there isn’t really time for him to act on it unless you tell him too. Of course he’d act if you were in danger or so he’d just stay by your sides when he could.
Though when he has time, he does. You’d be talking to a soon to be victim and he’d come revving his chainsaw and in seconds he slaughtered whoever was talking to you.
Though he’s still very insecure, especially when it came down to you helping out and flirting with the victims to lure them in.
He’d get upset angry and even try to argue to get you out of helping.
He’d whine to you about it, shout and scream. Though it’s easy to shut him up with some reassurance and a kiss.
Him being jealous is a common occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary.
He doesn’t even trust his family around you, always watching. Keeping an eye out, unless you were with his mother.
Sometimes if you end up being left with Hoyt or any male for God knows why he’d start arguments with his family.
Grabbing you and taking you upstairs and forcing you to stay in the room, and throwing tempter tantrums when you didn’t. 
He’d cry when you get mad at him, and throw things around when he was jealous. It was annoying watching him act like a child.
He’d ignore you , give you the silent treatment. It was practically like dealing with a child.
You reassuring him had become a daily task at that point.
Pretzel Jack
Attention jealousy, There had been one time where you were hanging out with another imaginary friend and he got sad and snapped.
When you got mad at him he had a long frown, he just wanted your attention, just wanted to play.
He hated when your attention was on other people, like a spouse or friend.
Which is why he was so happy when you got mad at them, and he finally could kill them!
Typically murders are sort of your fault because you should be able to control your anger and keep him under control.
If he’s jealous he’s quick to try and do some tricks to get your attention, and if it failed he’d wail around or have an outburst.
Or go to extreme efforts to get you to smile.
If all else fails, he kills your other friend. And *poof!* you’re his again.
Jack is very overprotective, so it’s more or so him just trying to protect you.
He doesn’t even know what jealousy is he just feels a throbbing in his hands and acts on it.
After doing whatever he did he’d play or lay near you. Making sure to keep everyone away whilst it was just the two of you.
And if you found out what he did and got mad he’d punish himself by keeping himself away from you unless you were in trouble.
Or he’d get really sad and hide away.
When he was jealous it was sort of funny, he’d go to the extreme just to see you crack a smirk or just look his way.
Sometimes purposely sulking in the corner to see if you’d check on him.
Of course you did and your silly Jack was back. Though that didn’t stop him from becoming jealous over and over again. Having to reassure him that he’s your favorite and always will be.
Gabriel may
Gabriel was the wrong guy to get jealous, he’d lock you away and keep you to himself.
He’d kill anyone who threatened your relationship, not just because of his obsessive personality but because he was insecure as a whole.
He believed that anyone could take you away, woman or men because he believed he wasn’t attractive enough to keep you.
He’d scare them away, flickering the lights or growling through a phone or radio.
And if that didn’t work, he’d just see them later tonight so they wouldn’t even share the same world as you anymore.
Gabriel didn’t believe he needed reassurance, though he did enjoy it he hid it well.
He believed that it was natural for a man to become overprotective of his partner, even though he wouldn’t even consider himself overprotective.
He didn’t care if you rejected whoever wanted you, they shouldn’t have thought about you romantically in the first place.
Now they have to die.
The difference between him and any other guy is you can’t talk him out of it, when he’s made up his mind, it’s no longer a thought but a soon to be decision.
He’d come home and pretend nothing happened, that it was an ordinary day after he just shoved a knife into an innocent man’s jugular just for having a slight crush on you.
Though if you got sad about it, he’d become insecure and angry.
Wondering why’d you care about any guy that isn’t him, or anyone that isn’t him at all. It was scary watching Gabriel become angry because he couldn’t really control his powers.
The lights will start to flicker, phones going on and off and radio blasting static. The walls vibrating and cabinets clattering.
Of course you’d tell him there’s no one else but as I said reassurance doesn’t really work on him. So you either just let him blow a fuse until he’s all fired out. Or you just ignore him,
But that won’t get you anywhere but him thinking you love someone else.
Jacob Goodnight
Though you rejected anyone’s crush proposal to you Jacob still got angry.
He’d bash their brains out saying you’d never date filthy sluts or impure people like them.
There were quiet times too, where’d when he got jealous he’d just come whining to you, and ask you if you loved him despite all he’s done.
And when you’d tell him yes he’d go back to blundering young adults to death before coming to ask you the same question again.
Just to make sure you wanted to be with him despite what he is and what he can’t help but be.
Though it is very easy to reassure Jacob, he trust you with his whole heart.
Sometimes he gets jealous but he can’t help it, there’s always someone that’s going to be attracted to you
He just didn’t like the thoughts of sinners, especially sinners being attracted to you.
Norman bates (old)
Norman and his mother were very jealous people, she couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting her poor boy and him having his first heartbreak.
So she did what any mother would do, kill them or convince Norman too.
She’d whisper cheeky little things in his ear, telling him if he didn’t eliminate them soon they’d become competition.
And eventually Norman just began the killing on his own.
Norman was extremely jealous, so he stuck by your side. Quick to speak up when someone was flirting with you.
Of course he stuttered and fumbled over his words but he knew he had to stand over you because you were his.
And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away, not even his mother.
He’d hold your hand everywhere, even in the house, he was weirdly obsessive.
Randomly kissing your palm and each knuckle, telling you how much he loved you so randomly in the most awkward situations.
It was hard to use the bathroom alone without Norman knocking wondering how long it’d take before he got to see you again.
You could barely leave the house, when you two started dating he wanted you to move in immediately.
You barely had any say!
But he just wanted you there fast so he could watch your every move and ward off any other competitors.
If you went on a walk by yourself he’d bombarde you with questions, why didn’t you tell him, did you want some distance from him?
What did he do?
It must’ve been that man he was letting stay in the hotel, he has to get rid of him now. That’s what mother would’ve wanted and, it’s what he wants.
Why is he cleaning up blood?
Oh a rat got in that’s all. He’d pat your head giving you soft forehead kisses before waving you off.
When you two get home he’d make you a sandwich and ask you about your walk, about the scenery. If you had any small talk with a stranger.
Of course you knew it was because of his jealousy,
But Norman was so timid you thought it was cute, not that he could kill somebody!
Kissing your cheek with clenching your shoulders hard, confessing what he did. Because the pressure was too much to keep from his beloved.
You forgive him? Oh thank God, that means he can do it again right? You didn’t say not too exactly.
Charles Lee Ray.
Charles was the wrong person to make jealous, he’d either put you in your place or kill you both! So you had to be careful,
There was one time a guy came up to you in the grocery store and before you could say anything there was Charles with a pistol up to his back.
He made the guy get on his knees and beg for fucks sake.
After that he yelled at you for even letting the guy in your proximity.
Charles was the type to get sexual when he was angry, angry intimacy.
Either that or blowing the guys head off and going on the run from the police because of it again.
He always expected you to wait for him, whether he was gone for months or years.
And one day he expected you to take him back even when he was a fucking doll!
It was ridiculous, he was always getting himself into some shit and wanting to come back into your arms.
Sad to say the maniac did have his soft moments, where he’d come home after a long run and fall straight into your arms with a snore.
Happy to be back, and happy to see you waiting for him.
Not really like you had a choice though. It’s either you did or your head would meet the back of his famous pistol.
There was no escape from Charles, and his rash jealousy and anger.
It was sort of nice for him to want you and only you, kinda awkward watching him call other woman whores though.
In the beginning he was a cheater, believing that he couldn’t trust anyone, that was until you were fed up of his bullshit and tried to leave him.
Crying, telling him how much he meant to you but you were so tired.
And ever since then the fuck didn’t leave your side, at first it started as threats, stalking and eventually you getting a restraining order.
But that didn’t keep him away, not even prison.
The police had given up before you did so you were sort of stuck, and with him threatening to kill anyone that tried make a move on you.
And eventually, he kept calling you his and you just settled with it.
Not like there was anything you could do.
Pennywise
You weren’t dating him, more like stuck with him. A chain on your ankle strapped to Satan who’s asleep.
And when he wakes up, he eats.
You were fairly attractive, and after all he was sort of a kid killer so any time some teenager cat called you he was hungry.
He’d laugh at you, taunting, making you believe you could escape before trapping you right again.
Devouring whoever wanted you in front of your very eyes.
One time you tried to defeat him to kill him, you tried to say hurtful things.
And it backfired.
He laughed and left, the next day you heard screaming. And hid until it was safe to come out. Seeing hundreds of adult corpses, men, woman.
And he sat on top, chomping on a leg like a king on a throne.
Laughing loud, his yellow eyes glowing fiercely in the dark.
Now it was different with men, or any adult who tried to hit on you so ever. He needed food, so he couldn’t kill all the adults and stop the production.
So he did what any intelligent psychopath would do, he killed their kids. Not only will whoever hit on you suffer, he gets fed too.
And if they didn’t have kids he’d just kill them, wasn’t a lot of fun for him but still.
He’d play games on you, pretending that they were going to save you until their head randomly fell of their body.
His laughing came quick his same little dance and taunting.
Though there was one odd time he went out of character, a time where he had been sleeping, or what they thought had been “defeated.
And someone, kept cat calling you, drunkard. Enough to come up to you and grasp your arms and started touching you.
You shocked yourself, because you knew the first name you screamed.
And it was unlike him to not play around with his food first, but he came. Broad daylight. And cut his neck clean off.
His eyes were a light blue and full of anger yet worry.
He grabbed you and carried you to the sewers, trying to force you to sleep through the rest of the years with him.
To keep you safe in a way.
But you had to explain to him that you couldn’t, remembering you were human and didn’t need yearly hibernation.
He was reluctant but at least made you stay down for two days, keeping you safe and fed until you needed to leave, for personal hygiene and job reasons.
Not like you needed to work anyway, he’d just kill anyone who tried to kick you out.
When he woke up he ate first, devouring everything because he didn’t trust himself being hungry and going to see you.
Of course he scared you as his little welcoming.
But sometimes he’d nuzzle into the crook of your stomach, he was technically an alien, he had his animal like tendencies.
He was weirdly possessive, he didn’t even understand his own jealousy. Watching you flirt with a random guy who wanted to help carry what he stated an “attractive.” Persons groceries.
Watching you smile, pick at your skin and cover your teeth as you giggled made him angry.
And he was going to make both of you pay for it.
Of course he killed the man first, he was really focused on you. He courted you, waited for you, protected you, and sometimes even fed you. And this what you do to him? Ungrateful human.
He’d come to your home welcoming himself, not announcing it or anything. Scaring you, taking the form of a human intruder.
Pretending to try and kill you before transforming back with a laugh in his face, before you could argue with him he widened his jaw and went to take a bite.
You screamed but he covered your mouth.
He didn’t let go, it wasn’t deep enough to puncture your skin but enough to bruise you.
And he stayed there, you slept with his teeth latched onto your skin.
He was fast asleep, almost subconsciously doing it.
Tightening inch by inch every time you tried to move his jaw.
Patrick Bateman
Patrick getting jealous was rare, he never felt that way unless he felt someone was superior than him.
Or someone caught your attention, which was hard to do.
When Patrick was jealous he’d work out more, try to become extra perfect so you’d never advert your eyes again.
Wearing more expensive and stylish clothes, or taking you shopping.
Dressing you so luxurious anyone would assume you were married.
So jealous that he proposed, making you a housewife so that you couldn’t escape. And every time you went out with those “whore.” Friends any cuck that wanted you would know you’re taken.
He wish he could just fucking label you, but god he wouldn’t want to ruin that god forsaken perfect skin.
He’d even solve his jealousy through intimacy.
Doing what he considered a God worthy performance, showing you that no one could make you happy as much as he does, pleasured, taken care of, loved.
Hell anything.
But there was a point where he had to, take things into his own…gloved, hands.
You had this male close friend, this handsome idiot that you knew since high school, through college, and now.
He was perfect, he had money, fit, nice skin. And it didn’t even look like he was trying, and to top it off he was intelligent.
Anytime you’d come back from hanging out with him you’d refer to him as a ‘cute little geek.’ And he was already having a bad day he just needed some release.
So when your drunken friend bumped into Patrick on the street so dumbly looking for you. Can you believe this?
He was confessing his love for you, to Patrick!
The taxi was full of his confession and Patrick’s occasional “oh really?” Right before he beat the pore guy to death with his golf club.
It was sloppier than usual but he couldn’t have someone talking about his precious only ever in such a way.
When you found out about your friends death you were devastated, he comforted you but couldn’t hide the scowl on his face.
Why did you care so much? Why were you crying so hard about a man that wasn’t him?
He enjoyed you sleeping on him but still couldn’t believe how broken down you were after losing another guy.
You eventually got acquainted with Patrick’s “friends.” And you suppose word got around that you were his because men started to avoid you.
Maybe because Patrick always stood behind you with his threatening demeanor but still.
You eventually got happier but couldn’t help but notice how over protective Patrick got.
Patrick loved how soft you were emotionally and just didn’t want anyone else to have it.
He’d lay his head in your palm and sit there for hours. Before going back to his nonchalant monotonous ways.
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kennahjune · 11 months ago
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Thinking of Steddie Soulmates where you feel every pain your soulmate feels.
Thinking of little Steve feeling every backhand and punch from Eddie’s dad.
Thinking of little Eddie feeling Steve break his arm and the pain being so much worse because his parents refuse to take him to the hospital until the school gets involved.
Thinking of Eddie finally moving in with Wayne and sure, the paternal beating are done, but now he’s just a small town Freak that’s constantly targeted.
Thinking of Eddie and Steve in their Sophomore/Freshman years respectively, not knowing who the other is outside of rumors and (unknowingly) their shared pain.
Thinking of Eddie finally escaping pain, the bullying turning to mainly verbal shit.
Only to be thrust right back into pain because his soulmates a walking hazard.
Thinking of Eddie having no idea what’s going on when he suddenly feels like one giant bruise after Steve’s beat up by Jonathan. Eddie watching Steve fall from grace in his Junior year and not connecting the dots.
Billy coming along and smashing a fucking plate over Steve’s head while Eddie’s peacefully sleeping. Eddie jolting awake with a shout because /holy fucking shit ow—/
Neither of them connecting the dots.
Then Steve graduates, and Eddie’s held back. And the pain subsides for a bit.
And then fuck all happens in Starcourt and Eddie literally feels like he’s dying and Jesus H. Christ is his soulmate /ok/??? Like they are getting seriously fucked up.
And then that recedes and it ok for a while— Eddie will still get killer pains that seem to circulate in his chest and head, but that’s to be expected with whatever tf his poor soulmate is going through year after year.
And then the fuckery of March 1986 happens and Chrissy Cunningham is dead in his trailer— his home— and he’s wanted for fucking murder and hiding in Rick’s dingy ass boat house—
And then he’s shoving none other than Steve Harrington up against a wall with a broken bottle helps to his throat. Eddie’s so piped on adrenaline he barely feels the sting in his back, but he does feel the zing of pressure on his throat and ok /ow—/
And he’s staring at Steve Harrington, who looks kinda terrified and so pretty and Eddie’s holding a bottle to his throat and is that Dustin?—
And—
And holy shit.
Eddie’s eyes widen at the same time as Steve’s and the realization hits them both at once.
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bbb-bbbbbbb · 7 months ago
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shoutout to gordons who are like cicada shells
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realized that this is more accurate, but i like the red of the solo cup
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zumicho · 6 months ago
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oikawa is back in japan for the first time since renouncing his citizenship. the very moment the plane wheels graze the concrete runway, he feels the difference.
he feels the difference over a warm bowl of chinese noodles, when iwaizumi catches him up on athletic trainer life, complaining about salary and overtime, cracking jokes about how tooru would never relate, “he's got it good.”
his volleyball career skyrocketed, after all.
he feels it bumping into hanamaki at the convenience store, when buying melatonin gummies to help with the timezone adjustment. his former teammate feigns starstruck, theatrically gushing and pleading for his autograph. makki shows him a picture of his girlfriend; teases him about a bet made in high school. oikawa remembers the fight he had with you, about not having enough time. about choosing volleyball. about priorities.
he feels the change when he kicks off his shoes haphazardly in his parents' house, dreading the absence of a nagging mother, who would tell him to set them aside where they actually belong. he reaches for the light switch, the muscle memory of home still ever present - it doesn't take him long to find.
in that dimly lit sanctuary of his childhood, he learned something new.
at twenty seven, oikawa tooru learned that maybe change isn't bad. not always. not if it meant strawberry cheesecake. not if it meant happy birthday, idiot! piped neatly in vanilla frosting across the top. not if it meant watching you fight sleep (losing), as you wield a kitchen lighter in your left hand, candles in your right. you waited.
not if it meant he could see that look on your face, when you wake up on the bed, with your back to his chest, his chin hooked over your shoulder, absolutely livid over the fact that he surprised you, when it was supposed to be the other way around.
not if it meant that though everyone will change eventually, he can sign a truce with difference for now, because being able to recognise difference is the evidence that something is worth missing. and until the day he has to miss you instead of have you, he'll cherish every moment. even if it one day becomes a memory.
tooru knows now,
that to be loved is not (just) to be known.
TO BE LOVED IS TO BE REMEMBERED.
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masterlist panorama
a/n : happy belated birthday loverboy! late night quickwrite that might get deleted in the morning. I’m not sure if I hate this or if I can tolerate it, we’ll see what happens to it lol. NOT PROOFREAD
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tartagliove · 23 days ago
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EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words
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when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.
tags and warnings ✧  fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3
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The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.
The fae are here.
They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 
The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.
A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash. 
But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.
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You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.
Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.
The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 
It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.
A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.
Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.
Then the first scream rips through the night.
You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.
Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong. 
You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?
As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.
You will not let the fae take you.
Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.
Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.
Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.
With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.
“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.
You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.
He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.
It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”
“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.
He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 
Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”
You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.
Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.
He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.
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The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.
You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.
When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.
He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.
You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.
“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”
Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”
Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.
He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.
“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours. 
He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.
“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”
His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”
And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.
Ajax stumbles backward. 
You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-
Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.
You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.
The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.
“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.
Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.
Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.
As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life. 
“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.
“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.
He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”
It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.
Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?
He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.
His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.
As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.
Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”
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note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).
this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:
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dimplewonie · 9 months ago
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gorgeous — 이희승.
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pairing: roommate! heeseung x gn! reader
syn: roomates or not, lee heeseung thinks you're gorgeous. and he doesn't hesitate to let you know.
warnings: slightly suggestive (i think), mentions kissing. not proofread oops
wc: 466.
ri's note🎧: im a jungwon stan i swear 🙏 based off of one of novelbear's prompts! wasn't planning on writing on this acct but...
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“how do I look?” you asked the moment you stepped into the room, voice casual as you used the living room mirror to check your appearance. you glanced towards your roommate lying on the couch, scrolling on his phone mindlessly. without looking up from the device, he hummed at your presence, mumbling a disinterested “hm?” in response. 
you rolled your eyes at his vague reply, taking a few steps further into the room. the sound of your heel-clad footsteps caught his attention, causing him to finally look your way. 
lee heeseung swore under his breath.
the sight of you immediately rendered him speechless, your figure clouding his thoughts with desire.
“do you think i overdressed?” you asked again, hands adjusting the hem of your bottoms, uncertainty visible in your tone. were you kidding?
you looked fucking gorgeous. 
and if he could come up with another word to describe you other than gorgeous, he would. but at the moment, all heeseung's mind was filled up with was nothing other than you and your cute little outfit, your cute shoes, your cute hair, and your beautiful smile.
you radiate confidence and poise, there was no way you wouldn’t command the attention of anyone in your presence. every aspect of you was perfect. you are perfect. and you were causing the man to churn in emotional turmoil, making him go haywire.
heck, he’d be damned if he let you go out to see another man while looking this stunning. so he did what he should’ve done earlier. he couldn’t think of anything else. 
he placed his hands on your hips, abruptly catching you off guard. he rubbed the pads of his thumbs against the exposed skin, feeling the warmth of your curves against his cold fingertips. as you stood face-to-face with him, he gazed back at you with an unreadable emotion, one you couldn’t quite place. but it seemed to hold a familiar glint that past lovers had looked at you with.
on instinct, you could hear the blaring alarms ring in your head and you were about to step back and push him off. but your body seemed to have a mind of its own and almost like putty, you leaned into him, allowing yourself to meld with his hot touch. lowering your body onto his, your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders to stabilize your weak body. wrapping his arms around your waist, a smirk played on his lips as he leaned closer, whispering.
“you look perfect.” and he smashed his lips feverishly against yours, pulling you towards him like a magnet. the kiss was filled with pent up frustration and longing as you gasped against the mouth of your roommate. you were making out with lee heeseung. and you didn’t mind one single bit.
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© dimplewonie on tumblr. please do not copy, repost, or plagiarize any of my works. reblogs and comments are appreciated :3
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hailsatanacab · 2 months ago
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“To whom,” Alfred rasps, pausing to clear his throat and establish his sense of decorum, “May I ask, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
The creature stops, blinks its owlish eyes at him, and lets out a bark of laughter.
“Forgive me,” it says, still chuckling lightly, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Alfred is suddenly struck by the feeling that this creature is not as timeless, nor as old or as wizened, as it wished to present itself. “I am making a terrible first impression. My name is Phantom, current High King of the Infinite Realms.”
Contractual Obligations by me!!!
I couldn't get the image of Ghost King Danny out of my head, so here he is!! Acrylic on canvas, and I'm so happy with it - he came out a lot better than I thought he would 😅
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months ago
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it’s suguru and his love for sleepy drunks against the whole entire world
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ggyurae · 8 months ago
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perfect night.
— sleeping with your boyfriend mingyu means you can have your own big teddy bear to hug. his strong arms wrapped around your smaller figure as your legs tangled with his. it helps to take you to dreamland rather quickly, the comfortable warmth radiates from his body effectively knocks you out. mingyu would chuckle fondly as he hears your soft snores— in the middle of the conversation. you usually can’t keep up, which is fine. he’s the yapper, you’re more of his listener. he would press a kiss on your forehead like usual and softly whisper ‘i love you. good night, my angel’ before he sleeps. he likes to know you’re safe in his embrace, void of any kind of worries and doubts before the day ends. he loves you so much that he cannot let any negativity surrounds you and your pretty little head.
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aeturnum-mendacacium · 7 months ago
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its always kinda stuck to me how in every cryptid Batman au many of them personify him as the "shadows of Gotham" or the "darkness of Gotham" or something as such when it's not an resurrected fic or some others
But I've always wanted him to not be personified as the shadows but as the night yk, and with all the "I am the night" it goes with it! I need people to understanding how he's not the dark part of Gotham come for vengeance!!! That's only a part of him!! Like how the night can be silent and always there, watching, the night can be forgiving as it hangs above and also be a source of dread, hiding many in its cloak, safe away, or maybe keeping the ones on the outside safe from whatever he hides in it
And the most of it it doesn't only describe batman but also Bruce wayne!! He may be dark and out for punishment but he also has light from the stars littered across him! Batman is the silent of the night, hes its forgiveness and it's dread, like how he cares about the well-being of his city and always puts his rouges in rehab because he still has hope in them! And he's it's terrifying exicutive, carrying out punishments and the bloodies hands of justice, and Bruce wayne is the lively part of the night, as he dances across with his stars and lives , like when in his parties he somewhat loses himself to the music and champagne and toasts to the sky, he's the party part of the night, the thrill you feel jumping at overly loud concerts and the rush of adrenaline as you dance to the fast beat
Bruce wayne is the night, not shadows
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whytheylosttheirminds · 3 months ago
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eulogy
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Rafe dug his grave. The rest were all too emotional to do it. John B offered and tried, but Sarah was so beside herself she was making herself sick and he couldn’t focus on the task at hand.
He looked around the group and realized not one of them had the strength to bury their friend. For a fraction of a second, he was jealous. Wondering if there was anyone left who would be devastated so deeply if he died. So he grabbed the shovel, allowing John B to step away from his best friend’s limp body and hold his wife, Rafe’s sister, who was on the cusp of seeing him as human again.
And he felt human as he dug, a symphony of sniffles filling the desert air as he sweat through each stab of the spade in the sand. With each pile pulled from the dune, he saw a flash of Maybank - the pest, the rascal, the kid from the cut who gave him nothing but hell. He remembered, with a smirk, how he pulled a gun on Topper that night a couple of summers ago. At the time, he was so outraged, urging Topper to fight back, to stand up for the Kooks. But now it dawned on him, JJ was twice the man Topper or any of those Kook assholes ever would be. An idiot, a pain in the ass, but a man nonetheless.
“The measure of a man is the love in the eyes of the people who look at him most often.”
His dad had said it once. He rolled his eyes then and he rolled them now, wondering if his father, the great treasure hunter, the gold hoarder, ever really meant that shit. But if it was true, then the guy whose grave he was now ankle deep in was more of a man than Rafe ever would be. The love in their eyes as their friend bled out before them, it was something he’d seen only once. From her. Under the trees.
And so, for the second time today, he cried. Hot tears washing away the grime in his pores from this nightmare of a journey.
It wasn’t for JJ, not exactly. There was no part of him that was happy that he was dead, but he wasn’t really a friend to mourn or an ally to regret the loss of. It was for the generations of history this deepening grave represented, it was for the length and emotion of this hellish day, it was for the thought of her separating their belongings, leaving his mother’s diamond on the bedside table.
The pain in his calloused hands felt good, he let the splintering handle of the shovel dig into his palms until they bled. His blood dripped into JJ Maybank’s grave as he lifted the body into the hole. He stood back and let them cover him back up, passing the shovel to his sister first. A solemn nod and he stepped far enough away to give them privacy, weeping streams into this desert as they buried their friend.
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tysm to my angel @rafeyscurtainbangs for finding me this pic I was gonna cry she’s my hero 💕✨
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sold2vlaykz · 1 month ago
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THOMAS HEWITT SMUT 🗣🗣 THOMAS HEWITT SMUT 🗣🗣
(Plsplspls him having a long day, and established relationship)
Big boy down
It’s been a long hot day, it was usual for Tommy to be out like this. He’s been out since midnight and now it’s the morning.
He usually came back huffing and tired, taking a quick nap just to work again.
There were times where you’d try to help, with verbal comfort, gratitude and even sex. But he was always worked up, so you just left him alone.
The sun was gleaming through the windows, the vast blue sky shimmering through the kitchen curtains.
It was only seven in the morning, the only reason you were up so early is because you wanted to get last night dishes out of the way.
When you woke up Tommy was already gone, you could hear the rummaging in the backyard, doing all his usual chores.
You sighed, rinsing off the last dish. You missed how much time you and Thomas used to spin together yet you two understood how busy you were.
And that’s what you loved about each other, you understood.
The door closed and you turned your head, you saw a sweaty and tired Tommy making his way towards you, you smiled at him.
He usually came to you after his work, just to hug you, to get a feel of his partner.
He pressed his chest on your back, his arms caving yours in. His head was tucked tightly in the crook of your neck.
“Something you need Tommy?”
He made a soft grunt, nothing to verbal. Squeezing you tightly pressing you deeper into him.
His musky smell filled your nose, the scent of a hard working man.
You leaned into his touch, such intimacy feeling casual yet so deep.
You let out a soft moan in his ear, the release of all the tension and just feeling him against you. He leaned into you more, at the moment you could feel his cock pressed deep into the center of your lower back.
A low growl leaving his lips as the friction grew unsteady.
“You okay Tommy?”
You asked, you knew what was going on. You just didn’t want to press it in case he didn’t want too, the poor guy couldn’t control how his body reacted.
You turned around in between his arms, taking a look down as his hard on was obviously noticeable, you leaned in towards his lips.
A small peck before returning with another one, deepening the kiss.
His hands gripped your back, your surprised the whole house didn’t hear him groaning into your mouth.
“You wanna?”
You asked, your gained southern accent flowing into his ears, you reached down and gently squeezed him.
His whimper just made you even more determined.
“Right here Tommy.”
You grasped the bottom of your apron, slowly moving it up. You revealed your undergarments to him and you could hear his breathing deepen. You looked up to him deeply, with soft eyes.
Wanting and desiring more, by the look of it. He did too.
“Can I?”
You asked him, tugging at the line of his pants. Tommy’s look of affirmation was all you needed, you pushed him back a little as you tugged his pants down.
You took a look around you to make sure no one woke up from the ruckus.
His cock sprung free, hitting the top of your forehead as you stood back up. It was thick and dripping of pre-cum.
Pulling down your underwear with one hand as you fondled his cock in another, his head in your neck as he whimpered slightly.
Trying his best to cover the noise.
“You’ve been workin’ all day.”
Your undergarments around your left ankle. Lifting your leg up desperately, hungry and waiting for him to take advantage of the access.
He stood there watching you, pressing his tip towards the entrance of you.
He pushed halfway in, you let out a loud yelp but quickly covered your mouth as Tommy flashed you a look of concern. You gave him a reassuring nod as he dug the rest of himself in.
You felt like you were being split in two.
“Fuck.” You grumbled in his ear, your breath heating up his neck.
“Wait, wait.”
You cried out to him, it’s been so long that it feels like something you’ve never felt before. You feel him twitch inside of you, eyes hungrily looking up at you still waiting for your go.
“M’Kay now.”
He began slowly thrusting, your nails digging into his back as you both kept your best to stay silent, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin grew louder.
“Fuck Tommy.” His groans were sloppy and loud, your constant shushes to remind him to keep quiet. He kept going deeper and deeper, every thrust became more sloppy as the counter began to shake.
It felt like he no longer cared about the noise, he was hungry. And his meal was right there.
He lifted your other leg up and rested you against the sink, leaning you comfortable before pushing into you once again.
“Oh fuck, mm.”
You moans echoed throughout the house as he pounded into you, the cabinet doors slamming and opening beside you.
With one pound he dug deeper and released his load into you.
Fucking you through it until you released yours.
His tired limp body relaxing as he pulled his cock from your body.
You smiled and laughed with him despite the feeling of your legs gone numb, though the sound of creaking quickly cut both of you out of your loving trance.
Both of you hurriedly pulled up your pants as you neatly cleaned the cum off the counter before throwing the paper towel in the trash.
At the bottom of the steps stood Hoyt.
“Keep yer’ fuckin’ down.”
He spat on the raw floor before heading out the door.
(Hi sorry if this isn’t what you expected it to be but I didn’t really have a lot of context to go off with! You didn’t specify gender so I tried to keep it general neutral- I know it’s fast paced but please if you ever have a request be more specific!!) I hope you enjoyed it.
Open to constructive criticism
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djarinova · 4 months ago
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╰─▸ ❝ levi ackerman ❞ ˋ*ੈ*⁀➷ 18+
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god im just imagining a really hot and heavy make out session with levi—maybe you've both had a few drinks on a night out, or maybe you havent seen each other for a couple of weeks—and you're trying to direct levi into the bedroom. but everytime you try to lead him away he grips onto your waist and holds you in place, planting open mouth kisses all along your neck and sucking on your tender spot until he feels you wrapping your arms around him. you try over and over again, wanting more than anything to move into the bedroom. desperate to feel him inside of you. and as you try once more, pulling away from levi's mouth ever so slightly, he taps your thigh and you move without thinking and place your leg around his waist.
"and now the other one."
you oblige almost immediately, only a second of doubt crossing your mind as you tilt your head questioningly, but one nod of levis head has you jumping up and securing your legs around his waist.
"good girl."
and as you moan into his lips you suddenly feel something pressing up against your clit, and your body jolts. you don't even remember him undressing your lower half and so you sneak a glance at the sight beneath you. and you watch as he presses himself into you, a low growl escaping from his throat. it sends a shiver up your spine. his arms are tight around you, keeping you pressed against the wall, and as he begins to thrust into you his muscles flex, almost glistening in the dim light.
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yasmindifference · 3 months ago
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8 (my birthday is the 8!)
The night is unseasonably warm, barely even cool enough for long sleeves. As such, the suit jacket Jason drapes around Tim's shoulders five minutes into their walk nearly makes him roll his eyes.
He channels his reaction into a girlish giggle instead, then has to swallow a more sincere laugh when he sees how the high-pitched sound nearly cracks Jason's mask.
"You're soooo chivalrous," Tim says, unable to resist pushing that little bit further. His Valley girl impersonation puts a twitch in Jason's eye every time. "Like, swoon."
Jason wraps an arm around Tim's waist--probably solely to disguise the sharp pinch he delivers to Tim's side--and smiles down at him.
"You deserve it, baby," he says, in the same smarmy tone he's been using all night.
It makes Tim want to punch him, a reaction he's sure Jason's eliciting on purpose--after all, he's been doing the same thing with his own Valley girl impersonation.
...It's possible he and Jason aren't taking this mission as seriously as they should be.
Oh well.
In retaliation for the pinch, Tim fakes a stumble over a crack in the sidewalk and drives his elbow into Jason's gut, earning a faint oof he wants to smile over.
Instead, he puts his hands to his face in exaggerated dismay.
"Oh, I'm so clumsy," he says mournfully. "It's so embarrassing..."
Jason brushes his hair (or rather, his wig) out of his face and twists his ear painfully in the process; Tim applies his stiletto heel to the toe of Jason's left shoe.
"You're not clumsy, baby, it's just those shoes," Jason says, voice a little tight--with pain or annoyance? Tim can't tell. "You want me to go get the car?"
"No, no," Tim says, "it's such a nice night--just look at those stars!"
He tips his head back and gazes dreamily at the sky which, being in Gotham, shows not a single star.
"They're so beautiful," he says happily.
"Not as beautiful as you," Jason says, with such smarmy passion that Tim barely remembers to hide the laugh he can't help behind a cough.
"Oh, pookie bear," he says--
--and finally, Jason breaks.
He lets go of Tim's waist to brace his hands against his knees as he cackles, choking out "fucking hell" and "pookie" as he struggles to catch his breath.
Tim just smiles and enjoys the victory.
"Okay," Jason says once he catches his breath, "holy shit, you win. How the fuck did you say that with a straight face?"
"Practice," Tim says dryly. "You play the tough guy too often. You should branch out more, broaden your range. Then you won't be so easy to shake."
Jason gives him a flat look and, straightening to his full height, spreads his arms in a silent invitation to look at him. Admittedly, Jason's height and bulk do make him less than ideal for the kinds of covers Tim prefers.
Tim was bullshitting anyway--Jason might default to tough guy, but he's entirely capable of more versatile covers. And he really wasn't that easy to shake; Tim was kind of expecting to break him when he showed up in a dress, stilettos, and wig without warning. Instead, he lasted all through dinner and a ways into their walk.
"Okay, you lasted a lot longer than I expected," he admits.
Jason smirks. "Admit it, I almost got you at dinner."
It's true that Tim came extremely close to breaking when Jason spoke over and ordered for him at the restaurant. Tim actually didn't get to say a single word to their waitress--not even thank you.
"You almost got a plate dumped in your lap," he corrects. Now that they've given up the covers, he shrugs out of Jason's jacket and hands it back. "I could see Ashley thinking about it every time you cut me off."
"Yeah, that was a close one," Jason agrees. "I doubled my usual tip in thanks for her restraint."
Tim nods in approval. "But yeah, admittedly I was not expecting you to go the--"
"Hello?" Dick's voice breaks in, thick with annoyance and a little too loud over the comms. "Did you guys forget that you have a job to do? This does not sound like an undercover conversation!"
Tim and Jason trade eyerolls.
"Good catch, Dickiebird," Jason says. "We are not in fact undercover."
"Excuse me?"
"Dick," Tim says with extreme patience, "Damian is a trained vigilante. He absolutely does not need us as backup on his first date."
Dick gasps in offense. "We agreed--"
"No, we agreed," Jason corrects.
"Yeah, we agreed your mother-henning was out of control," Tim says. "We tipped off Damian last night so he could change his reservation."
"And got Babs to find something to distract you with so you couldn't come follow him yourself," Jason adds.
Dick splutters.
"Take a deep breath," Tim suggests.
"Chill the fuck out," is Jason's less gentle contribution. "Anyway, we're done for the night. You should call it, too--maybe work on remembering the kid is sixteen and not six."
"Harsh but fair," Tim agrees thoughtfully. "Night, Dick!"
Dick is still spluttering when Tim pulls out his comm.
"How much do I owe you for dinner?" he asks Jason.
Jason shrugs and slings his jacket over one shoulder. "Buy me ice cream, we'll call it even."
"Deal," Tim says.
Because he, unlike Damian, is no longer a teenager, he doesn't ask if going for ice cream constitutes a real date.
He can't stop himself from wondering, though.
Happy early birthday, anon!!! In celebration, this got very long lmao. Prompt #8 was two characters on a nighttime stroll! I hope you enjoyed! ♡♡
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justaz · 4 months ago
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BIG fan of two sides of the same coin running incredibly hot and the other running incredibly cold.
people who brush hands with merlin wincing bc holy fuck that was like touching ice and merlin just smiles and wanders off. he’s like a cat, he likes to lounge in the sun and soak up the heat. he’s always been a huge fan of summer bc it was the time when the sun was out the most and there were rarely storms or clouds to block out the heat. he like farming with him mom bc of this bc he got to spend time with her while being in the sun. he never tanned tho. for some reason. he always remained as pale as the snow.
the knights are training during a hot summer day and merlin is cleaning a blade so he’s taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves so they don’t get dirty. gwaine wanders over to grab and drink and makes conversation with merlin and nudges his arm and pauses before placing his hands on his arm. he looks up at merlin who is staring at him in confusion. gwaine asks if he’s feeling alright and merlin’s like ?? yeah?? and gwaine just keeps touching him bc fuck its hot out today and merlin is freezing cold to the touch despite sitting in the sun and it’s offering him a bit of relief. arthur ofc barks at gwaine to get back to training and he forces himself to leave. he does make a note to cuddle up to merlin when it gets too hot bc merlin can definitely make him feel better.
no one really touches arthur as he’s the crown prince and all his servants did their best to not touch him directly and if they did it was really quick and professional. gaius always had a hard time figuring when arthur would get a fever bc he always ran hot so it always felt like he had a fever. arthur loved winter bc the snow and cool temperature. his nursemaids and servants would insist on bundling him up but often times arthur would just tear it off when he was outside, he never froze or got sick from it either.
when arthur takes the knights out on an expedition during winter and they’re all bundled up and shivering while arthur is just enjoying the cool air. merlin is shivering the most tho despite being wrapped in about fifty layers of fabric so arthur sheds his cape and hands it to merlin who wraps it around himself with a slight gasp and comment about how its so warm. the knights start a bidding war about who gets to sleep next to arthur when they stop to rest. it doesn’t matter who won. they all just piled on/around arthur and steal his warmth. merlin resides in the middle though bc he’s the coldest so arthur was willing to offer all his warmth to him while the rest stole it.
after they get married, merthur cuddle all night. merlin is freezing and arthur is burning so merlin cools arthur down while arthur warms merlin up. it’s an equal exchange. they’re also touching all the time no matter the temperature. if its summer and most people think its too hot to so much as be looked at? arthur has an arm up merlin’s tunic and wrapped around his waist cooling down while merlin is stealing him warmth. in winter, merlin is the koala and is stealing arthur’s warmth which he doesn’t mind bc merlin’s touch just reminds him of his favorite season.
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