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lovelyyy-luna · 9 months

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the hand that feeds

pairing: (mizu x fem!reader)

fandom: blue eye samurai

pronouns: she/her

type: smut

warning: dom!mizu and bratty!reader. This is pure filth and I don’t apologize for that. Spanking, choking, object penetration there’s probably more but you get the gist

a/n: juban is the underslip when wearing a kimono. haori is the outer robe of the men’s outfit.

aa/n: tagging @firelillys and @bxllamiizu both of y’all inspired me to write this. also tagging @angelltheninth

word count: 2019

date: december 20, 2023

masterlist

She dragged you away deep into the forest.

She was angry. You’ve seen her mad before but this time she was pissed.

“I told you how many times to stop complaining? And what do you do? You keep fucking complaining.”

She was tugging on your arm, you slightly liked the pain, and you hoped there was going to be a bruise around your wrist when she was done with you.

You finally stopped in a clearing

“So what do you have to say for yourself?” She slightly pushed you away.

You stumbled a bit but caught yourself.

“Hm?”

“I’m. Cold.” You say sternly. All this started because you kept complaining about the temperature.

“You knew this when you tagged along.”

“I didn’t know it’d be this fucking cold.” You mutter to yourself.

Swiftly she drew her blade and cut the belt that held your kimono together. Your juban was what was exposed. Just that thin slip of fabric was what kept you from becoming frostbitten.

She put the blade back into the holster, “How cold are you now?”

“Freezing,” you said above a whisper, holding yourself for some warmth.

“Would you like to be warmed up?” She stepped close to you, you could feel her breath on your face like a slight blanket on your cheeks.

You nod at her question.

She removes the kimono off your shoulders and it falls to the ground. Now just in your juban, she could truly see how cold you were, your nipples were peaked and that sight of you could make her go down on her knees but she wasn’t in a very giving mood at the moment.

Harshly she went between your thighs and her finger ever so lightly went between your slick.

“Hmm, no undergarments? No wonder you’re fucking cold. Or maybe, this was your plan the whole time. To piss me off and get me to fuck you.”

You stand there in the cold of the forest and nod. It was pathetic really but she was enjoying every second of it.

She looked down at you and her piercing blue eyes had a tinge of red in them.

“On your knees, dove.”

‘Dove’, that was her nickname for you, and every time she said it it made you weak in the knees.

You slowly sank to the ground kneeling on your kimono that was the barrier between the snowy ground and your skin.

You looked up at her and she towered over you.

“Now turn around.”

You obeyed every order and shuffled on the ground to have your back facing her.

She then kneeled behind you pressing her chest against your back. That touch alone made you moan and your head fell back into the crook of her neck.

Her hands then travel up your juban and tug at the string exposing you completely. Then her fingers trail up your stomach to your breasts slowly rubbing your nipples between her fingers.

Soft moans fall from your lips.

“Oh is my little dove enjoying this?” She cooed at you.

You nod whimpering at her touch.

“Well, I don’t want you to enjoy it.” Her voice was stern and gritty.

The hand that was touching you quickly went up to your throat gripping tightly and caught you off guard.

She then drew her blade again holding the blade closely to the two of you, your breath was staggered and was fogging up the metal weapon.

With a clean swipe the tree that was in front of you was soon just a stump.

“Bend over, dove.”

You nod and bend over on the freshly chopped stump. The white fabric of your robe rose as you bent over.

You were excited and nervous about what Mizu had planned for you.

Lost in your thoughts were broken from the harsh stinging from her hand landing on your ass.

You yelp at the sensation and shoot a look back at her.

She glared at you, “Eyes forward dove.”

You look back forward and another blow comes down on the same place. Only two smacks in and you already couldn’t handle it.

“Do you know how many times you complained about the cold?”

You shake your head.

“Thirteen times in ten minutes. So that means I’m going to do the same to you and you’re not going to say a word.”

You nod slowly.

Another smack landed on the opposite cheek giving the other side a break but it was short-lived when she smacked you hard again.

You looked behind you wanted to see the damage she caused so far and you knew by the end of this you were going to have welts.

She made you count, on the verge of tears with each blow. It was painful but you wanted this. You knew that with each smack it was full of love.

She was finally done and then felt her lips trailing down your back. The fabric of your robe was so thin that it felt like there was nothing between the two of you. Her hands then caressed your puffed abused cheeks.

Her kiss then went up to your neck and then to your ears, “I still don’t think you’ve learned your lesson.”

You whimper at her words, your hand slowly goes in search of hers. Once you find it you bring her hand up to your lips slowly kissing her fingers putting them into your mouth sucking on them.

She chuckles at your actions, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

You slowly turn to look at her, “I was um…”

“Oh did you think you were going to be fucked by my fingers?” Her chuckle was deep at mocking, “Oh my little dove do you think you even deserve my fingers?”

You look at her confused, then your eyes follow down to her other hand and it lays on the handle of her sword. You gulp and you look back up at her and she is grinning.

You bit your lip at just the thought of her using the handle on you and you instantly got wet.

“Turn back around,” she whispered.

You do as you are told and once shuffling around you bend over the stump, but it was not to her standards. She gripped your hips and pushed you into the stump. Your pelvic bone was on the outer edge of the stump and she pushed you hard into it giving you small cuts against the wood.

You slowly creep your head to look at her, she unsheathed her sword, stuck the blade between her slightly spread legs, and looked down at the handle and a lob of her spit dangled down on the bound leather.

Her hand then rubbed the spit in and he started to inch it towards your core spreading your lips slowly.

The sensation and the thought of what was happening and what was going to happen was reeling in your head.

The handle itself was 10 inches. You haven’t had anything like that in you for a while and were nervous about how you were going to handle it.

With the handle getting enough of your slick she parted your lips and put the tip in.

You hissed at the feeling, it may have been lubed enough but the soft leather with its ridges was a whole new sensation.

She slowly sunk it in you, not wanting to hurt you or make you uncomfortable but enough to make you feel good.

You then feel yourself hitting her fingers which were a makeshift stopper for you. You were slightly disappointed, you wanted more to go in. You started to wriggle but she stopped you.

Her free hand firmly gripped your hip, “Oh now dove, you aren’t supposed to be enjoying this. I could go rough with you…”

Your eyes lit up hoping that she would.

“But I know you like it rough. So for your punishment, I’m going to go slow. Painfully slow.”

You pout.

“Now no pouting. You’re going to be grateful for whatever I give you, yeah? Fucking grateful.” She pulls your hair at the last sentence causing you to moan.

She then slides it in and out of you slowly, moving her hips with the same motion. She pictures that she is fucking you. Every stroke the handle does in you she imagines that it's her doing that to you.

While she’s in her head you're aching for more so you snake your hand down to your clit rubbing your bundle of nerves.

Thinking about her roughly going at you got you going faster and Mizu noticed your change of breath and that caught her attention.

You were close. So close, until she snatched your hand away and pinned it behind your back.

“Did I tell you you can fucking touch yourself, my little dove?” She seethed.

You lost your hand placement when she pinned you, your upper body was now fully on the stump.

“Hm?” She was waiting for an answer.

“N-no, I'm-I’m sorry Mizu.”

“I don’t believe you. But I don’t think that matters that much at the moment, since you want it rough that’s exactly what I’m going to give you. Gonna have you begging me to stop and I not going to because you did ask for permission and were being a fucking brat.”

Her words made you wet and she felt it when she leaned back from being pressed against you and saw you were practically soaking the handle.

“Fucking pathetic.” She said.

Her hand went down to the base of the blade and steadied herself while continuing to hold on to your pinned arm.

Without wanting she began to violently thrust into you causing you to swing your other around wanting some sort of touch from her.

She was too busy and out of arms to swat your other hand away.

You were a mumbling mess, drool came from your mouth smearing on your cheek and the flat wood surface.

“M-Mizu-u-u,” you cry to her.

“Yes, my little dove?”

You forgot what you were going to say, she was fucking you dumb.

She laughed, “Oh my little dove having a good time?”

You nod, gripping her sleeve from behind.

You were close to your orgasm and she could tell.

You were taking the handle very well practically swallowing it whole and she kept hitting your sweet spot.

“Fu-u-uck Mizu,” tears were streaming down your cheeks, freezing almost when they hit the winter air.

With one more thrust, she holds it in you and you squirt all over the handle and her hand.

You were breathing heavily, legs shaking and she slowly took the handle out, wiped it off, and placed it back in her holster.

You couldn’t move. You were still bent over the stump.

“Dove? Did I work you too hard?”

She bent down near your face wiping your matted hair off your face, petting the tears away.

I shake my head smiling slightly at her.

“It was perfect.” You whisper, “I just can’t get up.”

She chuckles slightly. “Let me help you.”

She picks you up and then seats you down on the stump. You hissed at the pain you had forgotten from your ass but pulled through as she picked up your soaked from the snow kimono.

She noticed you shaking from the cold. She takes off her haori and places it on you.

You look up at her, mouthing a thank you.

“I'll tell you what, once we get to the next town I'll buy you a new kimono.” She smiles down at you.

You smile back holding my hand up from her to help me stand, “A pretty one?”

You lean on her and we both walk back to where our cart was, “Yes my dove. The prettiest one,” she chuckles

You smile giddy and then look down at my hands and groan, “I got splinters in my hand! God this is gonna take forever to get out!”

She rolled her eyes smiling as she dragged you back over to the clearing.

On to round two before you annoy her more.

♡please like comment and/or reblog♡

wanna be tagged? (X)

#lovelybean #blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu bes #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu x y/n #wlw #lgbtqia #mizu x fem!reader

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 10 months

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I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - i feel like this idea is really cute and just had to be written down:)

word count - 1.4k

in which, when you and harry are putting the christmas presents under the tree on christmas eve, with harry dressed up in a santa costume just for his own novelty, and share a little moment to themselves, unbeknownst to them that there four year old son arlo, was watching the whole time.

00:13am. 25th December, 2023.

On this whimsical Christmas Eve, the air is infused with the scent of pine and anticipation as you and your husband Harry, donned in a jolly Santa suit purely for his own delight, tiptoe around the cozy living room.

The soft glow of twinkling lights casts a warm ambiance, enveloping the space in a serene holiday magic.

Upstairs in the master bed, your precious four-year-old, Arlo, is lost in dreams of sugarplums and toy-filled wonderlands.

As his dreams weave their gentle tapestry, you and Harry share mischievous smiles, conspirators in the clandestine mission to deliver presents beneath the twinkling Christmas tree.

In the quietude of the night, laughter bubbles between you and Harry, a shared joy that needs no reason. Silently, you exchange glances, finding amusement in the simple joy of being together on this enchanting night. The muffled laughter dances in the air, a secret language spoken in the hushed tones of love.

The presents, adorned with festive paper and ribbons, find their places beneath the tree like treasures awaiting discovery. With each shared giggle, you and Harry weave invisible threads of happiness, wrapping the room in the warmth of familial love.

The task at hand becomes a delightful game of stealth and joy. Harry, in his Santa suit, moves with a festive grace, and you follow suit, your hearts synchronized in the shared delight of creating magic for Arlo. Laughter, sweet and spontaneous, becomes the soundtrack to this festive ballet.

Beside the twinkling evergreen, Arlo's offerings for Santa and his reindeer beckon: a plate adorned with mince pies and a bunch of crisp carrot for Rudolph.

Harry, ever the good sport in his Santa attire, merrily takes a bite of the sweet, spiced pie, savoring the festive flavor with genuine delight.

Meanwhile, you opt for the crunchy carrots, enjoying their crisp freshness. The contrast of flavours mirrors the yuletide spirit, blending the sweetness of the mince pies with the earthy simplicity of the carrots.

The pièce de résistance, however, is the offering of milk. Harry, with a theatrical flourish, lifts the glass to his lips, only to be met with a cringe as the chilly liquid meets his tongue. The milk, left out for Santa's refreshment, bears the unmistakable chill of a night spent waiting. The internal wince is evident on Harry's face, though he valiantly soldiers on, determined not to let a bit of cold milk dampen the festive mood.

As you stand in the hushed glow of the Christmas tree, satisfied smiles exchanged with Harry, a sense of completion washes over you. The presents are arranged, the festive treats enjoyed, and the world outside is wrapped in a blanket of silent snow. It feels like the perfect moment to retire to bed, where dreams of sugarplums can join the night's symphony.

But just as you entertain the idea of slipping under the warm covers, Harry, in his Santa suit, wraps his arms around your waist with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His lips press gentle kisses against your neck, creating a trail of warmth that contrasts the cool air of the room. You can't help but laugh, a delighted sound that dances in the quietude.

"M’not quite ready f’bed yet," he murmurs against your neck, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "If I go now, I'll just get kicked in the back by ‘Lo, and I'll end up with no quilt."

The unexpected declaration sends a ripple of laughter through you, and you playfully turn around in his embrace. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" you tease, your lips curving into a smile.

In the gentle dance of shared laughter and lingering gazes, you both revel in the magic of the moment. The Christmas lights cast a soft glow on Harry's face, accentuating the warmth in his eyes. His lips meet yours in a brief but tender kiss, a sweet punctuation to the unspoken joy that fills the room.

"M’suppose bedtime can wait a bit longer," he concedes, his arms tightening around you. "After all, who could resist the allure f’a quiet, magical Christmas night?"

In the gentle glow, Harry's eyes meet yours with a magnetic pull, and the world outside seems to vanish. His arms envelop you, creating an intimate cocoon that shields you from the outside world. The soft strains of holiday tunes linger, providing a subtle backdrop to the unspoken language of desire that fills the room.

The air is thick with a sweet tension as Harry's lips find yours in a series of passionate kisses, each one deepening the connection between you. Both of you smiling into each others mouths, your hands find the peach fuzz at the back of head neck, whilst his find habitat on the groove of your bum.

The room transforms into a haven of shared intimacy, where the only language spoken is that of desire, and every touch is a brushstroke in the masterpiece of this moment.

The heat of the moment intensifies as you lose yourselves in the magnetic pull of each other. The world outside continues its hushed existence, oblivious to the crescendo of emotions echoing within the room.

The bed, usually shared with the comforting presence of his parents, felt empty, and a sense of curiosity tugged at his tiny heart. Arlo, with his baby blanket in tow, embarked on a solo journey down the hallway.

The plush carpet beneath his little feet muffled his steps as he approached the top of the stairs. The house was still cloaked in the tranquillity of the evening, and Arlo, with wide eyes and tousled hair, peered down into the living room below.

A strange sound caught his attention, and he instinctively clutched his blanket a bit tighter.

At the bottom of the stairs, a tableau unfolded. His mother, adorned in her pajamas, was locked in an embrace with Santa Claus—or so it seemed. Arlo's innocent gaze widened, his imagination dancing with the possibility that Santa himself had arrived early to share a moment with his mom.

The festive glow of the Christmas tree provided an ethereal backdrop to the unexpected scene.

Unaware that the figure beneath the Santa suit was, in fact, his dad, Harry, Arlo continued to observe with a mixture of awe and confusion.

08:21am. 25th December, 2023.

The Christmas morning sun spilled into the kitchen, casting a golden hue on the day's festivities. As you walked in with Arlo nestled on your hip, the air buzzed with the promise of holiday magic.

However, a quiet tension lingered as Arlo, unusually reserved, gazed around the room with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

Harry, donned in a festive apron, stood at the stove, the sizzle of eggs providing a comforting backdrop to the scene. Arlo's silence persisted, his little mind undoubtedly preoccupied with the mysterious encounter from the previous night.

As you settled into the kitchen routine, the atmosphere held a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. Arlo's wide eyes shifted between you and Harry, his silence becoming a palpable presence in the room.

The bewilderment in his gaze hinted at the lingering confusion from witnessing the unexpected kiss with Santa Claus.

With each passing moment, the unspoken question hung in the air. Harry, flipping eggs with a practised ease, stole a glance at Arlo, sensing the inner turmoil of his young son. The parental instinct to reassure tugged at your heart as you navigated the morning, your steps mindful of the unspoken query hanging in the air.

After the hearty Christmas breakfast, Arlo, still harbouring the mystery from the previous night, toddled over to Harry.

His little arms reached up, a silent request to be lifted. Harry, ever the doting dad, scooped him up onto his hip, planting a cascade of playful kisses on Arlo's cheek. The room echoed with the sounds of affectionate giggles.

As Arlo settled into Harry's arms, he seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing around to ensure that you were nowhere in sight. Satisfied that the conversation would be just between him and his dad, Arlo took a deep breath, his eyes serious.

"I have something to tell you, Daddy," Arlo announced in a hushed voice, leaning in as if sharing a grand secret.

Harry, playfully intrigued, raised an eyebrow and encouraged him to spill the beans.

With an air of importance, Arlo whispered, "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus."

The words hung in the air, and a mischievous sparkle lit up his eyes. Harry's reaction, however, was unexpected.

A loud, hearty laugh erupted from Harry's chest, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Arlo, momentarily perplexed, couldn't help but join in the infectious laughter. Harry, wiping away an imaginary tear, managed to compose himself and leaned in with mock seriousness.

Harry brought his face closer to his mini-me and brought his voice to a quiet mock whisper.

“Tell m’more.”

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goldenempyrean · 10 months

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Not Quite 'Just Fine'

« Advent Day 1: “I thought you were ‘just fine’?” »

« Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader »

« Notes: First advent fic of 2023! Let's go! :D »

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Advent 2023 Masterlist! 〙

“This sucks.” Came the quiet annoyed grumble of your girlfriend, who had been sitting with her knees tucked up to her chest, her head resting atop them.

Ross was currently on the warpath and had demanded the entire team be pulled into a meeting to lectured on why it was important they keep their operations within the strict protocols set by one of the many accords the government had put into place.

“He’ll be done soon.” You murmured in response as you reached underneath the table to rest your hand on her thigh, “You know how he is when he gets in a mood.”

You both knew all too well how Ross could get but you couldn’t help but feel especially bad for your girlfriend considering that she wasn’t exactly feeling 100% at the moment. The pair of you had only just gotten back from a joint 3 day long mission up in the chilly forests of Siberia. Everything had gone great and smoothly… well except for that fact Natasha had insisted on giving you her thick coat after finding out you’d forgotten yours.

Her thin suit had done little to stave off the harsh chill biting in the air and you’d noticed her shivering throughout the night - even after the pair of you had shared long warm shower together. But when you’d pulled another blanket over her asked if she was okay, Natasha had assured you she was fine.

But now you really weren’t so sure. As Ross continued his lecture, Natasha's shivers grew more pronounced, her tired eyes blinking heavily as she held up her head with her hands. You slipped your hand beneath her hoodie and discreetly rubbed her back - something you knew she aways liked when she was in need of a little extra loving - but you couldn’t help but bite back a sigh as you felt the warmth radiating from her.

She let out a soft, suppressed yawn, and you couldn't help but smile sympathetically.

"You look like you need some rest," you whispered, your hand still on her back. "Maybe we can convince Ross that we need to file a mission report or something. Slip away for a bit. I think we should get some medicine into you, bring that temperature of your’s down a little.”

“I don’t have a temperature.” Natasha sniffled faintly but nevertheless she still nodded. Just as you were about to propose your excuse, her body tensed, and she let out a series of quick, half-stifled sneezes into her hands, “Oh, gross…” She cringed in disgust.

"Great timing sweetheart," You mumbled with a chuckle, handing her a tissue from your pocket. "Let's get out of here. I'll take care of you, come on.”

Clearing your throat you stood up to address Ross, “Sir, if you’ll excuse us, there’s a lot of paperwork that needs catching up on which otherwise will end up on your desk, so, may we?”

The secretary seemed more than displeased at your interruption however when he rolled his eyes and nodded towards the door when Natasha curled into herself with a raspy sounding cough a few moments later.

You nodded back, before turning your attention back to your girlfriend who looked like she wanted to hide in her hoodie and never return. “Come on Natty.” You whispered, offering out a hand when she stood up and had to dizzily grab the table to stable her balance.

Walking down the corridor, you felt Natasha slip her arm around your waist she leaned on you for support .”I thought you were 'just fine'?" You teased, making her blush a little as she buried her head into your side.

She looked up and shot you a half-hearted glare, her voice hoarse, "Don't push it."

You chuckled, guiding her through the corridors, "Well, I did warn you to keep your coat, but no, you had to be the chivalrous girlfriend.”

Natasha snorted weakly, but the action caused her to splutter into a sharp cough making her whine in response, “Rub it in later, will you? I just want to get under some warm covers right now.”

Finally when you reached her room, she gave you a grateful smile, "Thanks for saving me from Ross though. I needed that.”

"Anytime, Agent Romanoff," you replied, helping her onto the bed, pulling the thick duvet over her and she snuggled down into the sheet, “Now, let's get you comfortable. I'll find some meds and we’ll cuddle up for the rest of the day.”

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips, "You're not too bad at this caring girlfriend sort of thing, y’know.”

You winked, "Years of practice. Now, rest up sweetheart and I'll be right back with that medicine."

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geeky-politics-46 · 1 year

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Kinktober 2023 - Day 4

NSFW Alphabet with Tommy Shelby

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Tommy has a bit of a learning curve, but he's not terrible. If you need a glass of water, he'll grab you one, and he'll help you clean yourselves up. He'll hold you, but he doesn't really cuddle with you until he has started really falling for you. Then he starts to let his guard down and really shows you what he's feeling, which helps him know how you're feeling. After that, he is much softer after sex, almost starting to anticipate what you need before you even tell him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, it's your waist. He loves holding onto you. Especially at home when it's just the two of you. No matter how big or small you are, he thinks your waist is the absolute perfect size for him to wrap his arms around. In particular, he loves hugging you from behind and wrapping his arms around you while setting his chin on your shoulder. At night, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him like you're his own personal security blanket. Basically, he feels much happier and relaxed when he has a hold of your waist.

For you, it's a tie between his beautiful full lips and his incredible blue eyes. They are both so striking, and both make you weak in the knees. His eyes render you speechless sometimes. If you catch him staring at you across the room, you almost feel stuck in place. Like his eyes are boring into your flesh as he watches you. His lips are just so insanely kissable. Like, really, how are you not kissing him 24 hours a day? They're even harder to resist when he gets that pout on his face. You've never seen a man with such full pretty lips, and you don't think you will ever find one prettier than Tommy. His lips are also just as soft as they look.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He wants to cum inside you all the time. He's not a huge fan of cumming on your body or face, but he will if you ask. He does like you to swallow if you give him a blow job. He loves the idea that when he cums in you he's marking you as his. We know that Tommy is very possessive and the primal urge to fill you up is strong. If you have a quickie or something at the office or a party you will be walking around with his cum dripping out of you either into your panties or down your thighs. Basically he just loves filling you up and the idea that he might knock you up makes it extra hot for him. Creampie and breeding kinks for sure! You may end up with lots of kids and/or pregnancy scares.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He can actually be incredibly romantic. It's just something he hides from most of the world now. You are the exception. He likes surprising you with all sorts of gifts, and behind closed doors can be a very touchy feely, almost sometimes verging on clingy. He loves to kiss and nuzzle into your neck. He also likes surprising you by setting the mood with lots of candles and wine. You have suspicions that Tommy was more openly romantic before his experience in the war. Polly has told you he more openly wore his heart on his sleeve back then. That that Tommy is the one that never came back from France. Maybe the romantic gestures are a look at the boy he used to be, and the man still hiding in there behind the scars and tough facade.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Let's be honest here, Tommy is a bit of a hoe. He's been around the block more than a few times. Good news for you is that that means he definitely knows what he's doing. He has a little bit of short man syndrome. He takes pride in being able to please you. Sex with Tommy isn't over until both of you have cum at least once. Preferably multiple times. His goal is to have you screaming his name every time he fucks you. He also wants to prove his faithfulness to you by making you cum every chance he gets. His cock belongs to you and no one else. You are his ride or die and he wants to make sure you know it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, mating press, and cowgirl. Tommy is big on eye contact, so positions where he can see and watch your face are his favorites. He wants to watch your face contort in pleasure as he fucks you senseless. He wants to kiss and bite at your lips and neck. He'll whisper sweet and filthy things to you as he slowly thrusts in and out of you, your nails raking down his back and your legs around his waist trying to pull him even deeper inside you. He also likes to hold your hands with your fingers interlaced while he brings you to climax. If he's feeling overwhelmed he wants you to ride him. He likes laying back and watching you bounce on his cock. Torn between watching your face, your tits bouncing, or your wet cunt swallowing his cock. His hands resting on your hips, helping you set your pace. When he gets close he'll start thrusting up from underneath you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Tommy is never goofy. Like ever. He may make a sassy smartass or comment during sex just to wind you up, but that's about as humorous as he gets during your sexy times. He's more sarcastic and dry humor than 'haha' funny the majority of the time, and this is no different. Usually, though, sex with Tommy is a serious affair.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He definitely trims regularly. Appearance is clearly important to him, and that includes below the belt, even if it's only you and him that see it. He would probably expect the same of you unless you were very pregnant or post birth, or other times when it just wouldn't be feasible. He appreciates a bit of hair and wouldn't want you bare. He wants you to look like a woman. He wouldn't shame you for not trimming or anything, but he might tell you how much he likes going down on you right after you clean things up a little. Tell you how much more he can feel you and how wet you get when your hair is shorter.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Tommy can be very intimate and intense. It's just the way he is, but it does make for some truly mind-blowing sex. He loves making eye contact and holding hands with you while he's fucking you. He pays such close attention to how your body reacts to him. Every little moan and whimper from your lips telling him exactly how you're feeling in the moment. When he's on top he keeps his face close to yours or buries his face in your neck. Biting and nipping at your skin and whispering in a low voice how incredible you feel and how good you are being for him. All of his intensity has given you some truly Earth shattering orgasms and you are sure it won't be changing anytime soon.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He'd rather have sex with you than jerk off, but he actually does it more now than he used to. You were very adamant when you fot together that infidelity was something you would not tolerate, and he knew you were serious, so he doesn't even want to be tempted. So if you aren't around and he is even a little bit horny, he will take matters into his own hands. He thinks about you when he jerks off. Replaying your past encounters or imagining what he wants to do to you next time he gets a hold of you. He still had plenty of energy, and cum, left for you though. In fact, if he could have it his way, you two would probably never leave the bedroom and he would always be able to have you instead of his own hand.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink to the max. This man loves the idea of getting you pregnant. What better way to show that you belong to him than having you waddling around carrying his baby and having a whole brode of children with you? He will tell you over and over how much he loves filling you up with his cum and how bad he wants to breed you. If you ask him to breed you he will turn downright feral and start pounding into you. Even if you already have several little Shelby's running around, Tommy is always willing to risk another if he can watch his cum leaking out of you.

He also has a bit of a sir kink. He's usually a bit more dominant in the bedroom, and if he's feeling really dominant, he wants you to call him sir or even Mr. Shelby, pretending you are one of the maids or a nanny if he's feeling a bit kinky. He loves the idea that you are at his command. His good girl who is oh so well behaved for him. Of course, if you forget and call him Tommy or a pet name, he may have to punish you. You'll need to apologize after your spanking, and then he'll happily finger you while you're still draped over his lap.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

If it's a quickie, all he needs is a quiet place, but for your longer sessions, he prefers you large shared bed. There's lots of space for him to get you in any position he wants, and the two of you usually do end up all over the bed. He's also much more relaxed in your shared bedroom at Arrow House. He knows it's safe to really let his guard down. He becomes the Tommy Shelby that only you get to see. There's no one to interrupt and nothing to distract either of you. Behind those heavy wooden doors and in those silk sheets, it is just you and him. Sometimes, it almost feels like the world around you stops once he closes those doors. You wish it could be that way all the time.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Occasionally, his motivation will be an attempt to clear his mind. Using sex as a way of trying to relieve stress, frustration, and anger. This is especially true if he drags you away for a quickie. He also gets incredibly turned on by knowing that you are his and his alone. If you've been at a party or event and were oblivious to how many other men were eye fucking you, instead spending the entire time snuggled into his side and hanging onto his arm making it known you only have eyes for Tommy, he will barely be able to control himself on the drive home. You are his port in a storm and on any given night you are all the motivation he needs to get going and want to fuck you into the mattress.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

You are his property, and the only way another man will ever touch you again is over his cold, dead body. He may tease you with the threat of fucking you in front of a whole room of people. Or if a man is flirting with you he'll ask you if he should invite the man to watch him make you scream for his cock. That way there is not even an inkling of confusion about who you belong to. All of those are just threats though. No man other than him and maybe a medical professional will ever see you naked again, let alone touch you, and even the doctor will have a little conversation with Tommy about not touching or staring unless it's absolutely necessary. He even gets a little jealous when you dance with Arthur or John. If their hands slip a little too low on your back grazing your ass or he catches them ogling your tits he'll be cutting in with a sharp glare. Even Finn and Michael are not immune to his jealous glares even though he knows they are both far too young for you to think of in that way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Tommy likes to both give and receive. He will never say no to a blow job. He absolutely loves to call you into his study if he's having a long stressful day and asking you to help him relax. Nothing makes him feel better than your mouth swallowing him down. Well maybe your cunt, but your mouth is a very close 2nd. He also loves how you fall apart for him when he eats your pussy. How you grip his hair when he licks at you and the way you start to whimper when he sucks on your clit. He will never get tired of the way your body shakes and you cry out his name as you cum in his mouth. You taste like the most incredible wine he's ever tasted. You're intoxicating and he will happily drink down every drop you will give him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Quickies are always fast and rough, but usually, Tommy prefers to be slow and sensual. He loves to take his time. Thrusting into you almost painfully slowly at first. He wants you to feel every inch of his cock as it stretches you. He wants to make you whine and moan for him. He will wait until you are begging him to go faster before he finally starts to speed up. Even then his thrusts stay controlled and deep. He loves making eye contact, kissing you, and talking to you during sex. So a slower pace allows him to do all of those things. He does get a little rougher and faster when he's close to cumming, but even then it's sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Usually, if he wants a quickie, it's to relieve stress or frustration. They are usually rough and fast. You both stay mostly clothed. If he's having a particularly rough day, he may hang onto your panties as a sort of stress toy for the rest of the day. They usually happen on or over his desk or against a wall. Quickies are not necessarily his favorite thing, but they are a much better way to let out frustration than drinking or yelling. He prefers to have lots of time with you. He wants you completely naked and making all those beautiful noises for him. That's his least favorite part about quickies. That you usually have to be quiet. He wants to hear you moan and beg for him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He takes calculated risks, both in business and in the bedroom. He is willing to try lots of things. Want to try a new position? He's down. Want to have sex on the dining room table? He'll give Frances the night off. Want him to spank you a little? All you have to do is ask. What he doesn't take risks with is your safety. It may seem like he's being possessive or controlling. Wanting to know who you are going out with or not letting you out of his sight at the races, but he does it for your safety. The same translates to the bedroom. He won't do anything that could really harm you. The farthest he will go is a bit of choking. With that, he's interested in playing with both giving and receiving.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for hours and is usually good for at least two rounds. Especially if there's a few hours in between. A naughty romp before going to sleep and then another round right when you wake up is the perfect timing for him. Even if you are only down for one round, he will make sure it lasts. He is not a minute man by any means. He will take his time with foreplay beforehand. Taking his time touching and undressing you before he even tries to put his cock inside you. He will stop fucking you if he feels like he's getting too close and start eating eating your pussy. Then after he makes you cum he'll go right back to fucking you. He will make sure you are both satisfied and worn out once you are done.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Obviously, toys weren't a big thing then. In fact vibrators were only just being invented, and that was as a treatment for hysteria. However, if toys were more common, I feel like Tommy would be the type of guy who is able to see the benefits. Especially a vibrator that he could use on you. Maybe not so much a dildo or something you could use in place of his cock, but something that you could use together in bed. He would probably also love it if he happened to walk in on you using your vibrator. Saying something about how since you just couldn't wait for him to get home he wanted you to finish what you were doing, and put on a show for him. He wouldn't use them every time you fucked but he would definitely pull them out for special occasions, or if he wanted to overstimulate you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

His middle name could be tease. He knows exactly how to get you turned on and wanting him, and he abuses that knowledge frequently. If he's bored at a party, his favorite thing to do is occupy himself by flirting with you and teasing you. He'll start to kiss at your neck or grab your ass when no one is looking. He'll whisper in your ear how much he can't wait to get you home, strip you naked, and fuck your in front the fireplace. Of course if you try to tease him back you better be prepared for what happens when you get home. He won't object to you sitting in his lap and wiggling your ass around to get him aroused. You don't know how he manages to keep such a cool composure while you massage and stroke his cock through his pants under the table. That's a sure fire way to make sure you're gonna get fucked against a wall as soon as you get back to Arrow House.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Tommy loves a bit of dirty talk, and he absolutely loves all the noises that you make. He will tell you how beautiful you are and how good you feel. Mixing both sweet praises and filthy commands in your ear. Changing from one to the other effortlessly. "You are so perfect, love, my little angel made to take my fucking cock. Yeah you love getting stretched open on my cock don't you?". He's fully aware that at times you can't respond with coherent sentences and he is fine with that as long as you don't hold back your beautiful moans and whimpers. He'll mix in his own grunts and groans that sound oh so delicious when you can pull them from him. Even during quickies he likes to talk to you and has a hard time being quiet if you are in a public place.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Tommy can be a bit of a pillow princess. We've all seen that he likes the cowgirl position, but what we don't see are the nights he's feeling incredibly needy and literally wants to just lie there while you pleasure him. He'll get a little whiny and pouty if he tries to pull you on top of him, and you don't automatically willingly agree. He may want you to suck his cock for a bit before you come up and sit on his cock. If you don't start moving he'll start pouting again. He gets like this when he's feeling really needy and feels like the world is out to get him. It doesn't happen a lot. Usually he's pretty content splitting the workload in bed, but every once in a while all he wants to do is take and you will gladly give in when Tommy is in his princess mood.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

The man radiates big dick energy, and he has earned it. His length is average, but he's got some extra girth. He's a thick boy with lots of bulging veins that throb and rub at you just right when he's inside you. It's always a little bit of a stretch to take him. It's not painful, but you feel very full. Best believe the man knows how to use his cock to drive you absolutely mad. He'll tease you by just thrusting his tip into you and make you beg for the rest of his length. He's uncircumcised and he has a lot of precum. If you get him riled up enough his cock will literally drip for you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is high. Usually no matter what his day has brought him, whether it be good or bad, he's down to fuck. All it takes is for him to get home and find you already in your nightgown. Whether you are already asleep, putting the kids down for bed, or just laying in bed reading. All it takes is seeing how the thin fabric clings to your curves and his mouth is watering for a taste of you. He'll watch you the entire time he strips down for bed. Down to just his boxers. Completely unashamed of the tent forming there. Like a predator watching its prey. If you haven't noticed or are asleep he'll curl into your side starting to press kisses to your neck and slowly bring one of your hands to his crotch so you can feel how hard he is from just looking at you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

We all know Tommy and sleep are not the best of friends, and while sex does help him relax, he doesn't drift off easily. He does have fewer nightmares after a good vigorous romp, but it's no guarantee he will have an easy night. If he's having a particularly hard time falling asleep, he may wake you up for another round as an alternative to heading to his study. He knows you prefer it if he stays away from working at night even when he can't sleep, so you don't mind him using you for a distraction. He does sleep better with you naked and cuddled into his side than he does when you aren't there, though.

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nynaevedesign · 1 year

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Rain Bedroom Step into a serene bedroom, where a graceful bedframe with a curved headboard takes center stage, radiating sophistication and comfort. Flanking the bed, sleek nightstands with minimalist design elements offer functionality and a touch of understated elegance. Above, a sculptural pendant light hangs like a work of art, casting a warm and inviting glow that sets the perfect mood. Opposite the bed, a contemporary dresser with clean lines and subtle details provides ample storage while maintaining a modern aesthetic. Nearby, two geometric ottomans add a pop of visual interest and double as a stylish seating option. To complete the look, the walls are adorned with fluted wall decor, adding texture and depth to the room while enhancing its overall sense of refinement. Set includes Bedframe | Bedding | Bed Cover | Throw Blanket | Throw Pillows | Nightstand | Dresser x2 | Dresser x3 | Ottoman V1 | Ottoman V2 | Pendant Light | Mirror | Fluted Wall Decor Patreon Early Access Public Release: 10/31/2023

#sims #the sims 4 #sims4cc #custom content #3ddesign #bedroom #bed #frame #throw #blanket #pillow #ottoman #chair #nightstand #dresser #pendant #light #modern #contemporary #nynaevedesign

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yandere-kokeshi · 10 months

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Can I request poly soap x reader who love tea and books x ghost?

Warnings: yandere behavior, and Stockholm Syndrome.

A/N: Uh yes!! This was really fun to do, enjoy <3!

Both of them don’t hate reading, but they’re not entirely compelled by it either. Simon would probably read a good Stephen King novel or a cookbook, whilst Johnny would be interested in history and fossils. Though, they often don’t just sit around and read all day; it’s something they aren’t all that interested in.

But, that doesn’t mean that both of them aren’t going to stop you from doing it.

From day one, they’ve always supported your taste for books — frequently bringing many books home, and getting collector-only books as surprises.

Both of them take turns cuddling you whilst you read, whether that’s before bed, dinner, or during a lazy Sunday, they always have their arms wrapped around you tightly. Of course, they ask questions during the mist of silence– laughing when you grumble for them to quiet.

Every room of the large cabin has bookshelves, who were made by your beloved Johnny. They’re typically fitted by a window or firebox; letting you get into the right mood for reading, smelling your delivered tea from Simon.

Speaking of Simon, it’s no surprise that he’s the best at making tea, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature, allowing the tea bag to brew at the assigned time, and adding whatever ingredients you like; using your favorite mugs so you can enjoy it precisely. Plus, he enjoys seeing you smile, bundled up in your blanket, or sweater.

Johnny and Simon enjoy it whenever you tell them about what you’re reading, expressing your love for the characters or plot. Plus, they always ask if you enjoyed the book after finishing it.

Oh, and, if there’s a movie adaptation, you better believe it’s a movie night date with these two. They always get your favorite snacks, a bundle of pillows and blankets, with a bunch of cuddles and kisses.

However, if you stay up late, reading till 3am… they won’t be too happy. As much as they enjoy your hobby, sleep is important — don’t you realize that? Don’t make them take away your books.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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nanowrimo · 1 year

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5 Tips for Building a Sustainable Writing Practice

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. First Draft Pro, a 2023 Camp NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a great writing app—whether you’re writing solo or with a co-author. Here are a few tips for building a sustainable writing practice, brought to you by author Ariana Brown and First Draft Pro.

We’ve all heard the advice to “write every day,” as if it were that easy! Translation: suck it up, no one cares if you’re tired. But what if there was another way to get writing done, without being unkind to yourself?

Hi, I’m Ariana Brown, and I teach writers how to create a writing practice that is sustainable, flexible, and fulfilling. Most of my students are chronically ill, disabled, neurodivergent, or simply exhausted from the daily stresses of life. I know writing isn’t your only responsibility—capitalism makes sure of that! But I strongly believe that writing should be an enjoyable activity you look forward to.

Below I’ve compiled my top tips for exhausted writers who want to be kinder to themselves—and still get the work done.

1. Add pleasure to your writing routine.

Sensory pleasures are neither frivolous nor are they only for children. They’re a crucial part of being alive! They give us something to look forward to when times are tough and we need motivation. Candles, soft blankets, cold beverages, mood lighting, dance breaks, yummy treats—whatever you choose, make sure it’s something you love. Paint your nails a fun color so you have something beautiful to look at while you’re typing away. Make a playlist of your favorite songs and after you finish a chapter, blast one song so loudly you have to get up and dance. Then, get back to writing. Remember, even for the most focused among us, pleasure is a better motivator than shame.

2. Be clear about your intentions.

What brought you to writing in the first place? For some, it was the ability to escape into our imaginations. For others, it was the chance to finally express what we’d been holding inside. Identify your reason for writing, then ask yourself: Am I still enjoying this? Do I still feel connected to my reason for writing? If not, explore how you can strengthen your connection to your inner child’s reason for writing.

3. Work with your brain, not against it.

If we know that everyone’s brain works differently, why do we force strict discipline and linear processes on ourselves? My advice: find or create a writing process that works for you. Maybe you love outlines; maybe you prefer to see where the words take you. Either way, make space for wandering, play, and discovery as you write. Take brain breaks. Doodle, map, dance, and draw when you get distracted. Body double with other writers, try new exercises and prompts to make the writing sing, and take plenty of breaks to stretch your body and talk to friends. We come to writing with our whole selves. Listen to your body, don’t shut it off.

4. Find a writing community.

You don’t have to wait for a community to come to you! I offer co-writing sessions on Zoom four times a month for my Patreon supporters, but do what works for you. Attend local open mics as an audience member and cheer on your peers. Invite your best friends to your living room once a month for a two hour writing/crafting session. Or check your local library and bookstores for free workshops and author events. You don’t have to do this work alone.

5. Develop a gratitude practice.

Finishing your draft is a huge accomplishment, but it’s not the only milestone to be celebrated. Consider creating opportunities to thank yourself throughout your writing practice. You’re doing an amazing and difficult thing. The fact that you keep showing up is worthy of celebration. Whether you decide to journal, rest, pray, meditate, or reward yourself, a little gratitude goes a long way.

Ariana Brown is a queer writer from San Antonio, TX, based in Houston. She is the author of We Are Owed (Grieveland, 2021) and Sana Sana (Game Over Books, 2020), and a national collegiate poetry slam champion. Ariana holds an MFA in Poetry, MS in Library and Information Science, and a BA in African Diaspora Studies and Mexican American Studies. She has been writing, teaching, and performing for over a decade. Follow her online @ArianaThePoet and www.arianabrown.com.

#nanowrimo #writing advice #executive dysfunction #neurodivergent writers #disabled writers #by nano sponsor #first draft pro #ariana brown

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sardinemasc · 2 years

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so happy i ended up changing palettes after my first attempt. this blanket is going to be STUNNING :']

done with january, caught up for this month. more bad days this month, but someone 0 neutral low, which i think is interesting :) love how different the months are coming out already !!

pattern is the Linen Square Temperature Blanket by TLYarnCrafts!

[ID:

Two photos of linen stitch crochet squares of many different colors. Each row's color is determined by my mood/mental health that day. The colors are a range of blues, teals, and greens. ]

#mood blanket 2023 #crochet blanket #temperature blanket #crochet #yarn art #yarn #fiber art #my art

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myseungsunglove · 11 months

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Love without words | Ksm

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff (specific warnings under the cut)

Word Count: 2.6k

𖠫Summary: There is nothing quite like a night with Seungmin to erase all need for words between you.

✎A/N✎: I hadn’t really intended to pair this concept with Seungmin’s accident, but it seemed a good entry into a more intimate moment. There isn’t really any talk or speculation about the accident itself, just the minor aftermath of emotions that lead to the reader comforting Seungmin on his birthday. Just a soft series of moments that lead to a healing experience for both of them. Please understand this in no way reflects any actual events, obviously. Just felt like I needed to mention that in case anyone gets any ideas.

This is probably one of my favorite pieces I have ever written. So I really hope you guys enjoy it.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© October 13, 2023 by mysweethannie」

✘MDNI✘

smut warnings: unprotected sex, soft & intimate

Generally speaking, you aren’t a particularly loud person. So it came as no surprise to Seungmin that when you reach high levels of pleasure with him, all words escape you. You aren’t really one to scream out in ecstasy either. Instead, it’s like someone has stolen away your ability to utter a sound. You are reduced to breathy sighs and airy whispers that vaguely sound like Seungmin’s name. Not to say that Seungmin can’t make you vocal, but during the more intimate moments and less dominating encounters, quiet passion is your default. Your mind, body, and soul seem to melt into Seungmin. You feel as though you quite literally become one. Every touch and movement of your bodies, no matter how big or small, are all you need to express your deepest feelings for each other.

Seungmin is much like you in that regard. He isn’t all that vocal during your most intimate moments either. The two of you are so much alike in some ways it seems unreal at times. In matters of the bedroom, the two of you are generally much more quiet than a “normal” couple which makes for some really intense moments shared between you.

Tonight is going to be one of those nights.

It is Seungmin’s birthday. He was recently in a minor accident that left him with muscle soreness and a few scrapes and bruises, but no major injuries. Even without major injuries, doctors insisted that he cancel his schedule for the upcoming week and rest to practice the utmost precaution. This means no New York and no birthday celebration with STAYs. You had planned an elaborate evening in New York to celebrate his birthday outside of his schedule for the festival. To say that he was disappointed to be sidelined for his birthday weekend would be a major understatement.

“You could have gone with them,” he laments, his voice low and pouty as he stares out the window. It is a gloomy, rainy day which fits the somber mood. Seungmin is tucked into himself on the couch, his knees up close to his chest, a soft wool blanket draped over his legs, bundled up in an oversized navy blue hoodie and clasping a cup of tea with both hands.

“Seung,” you sigh from your place in the kitchen, as you clean up the birthday breakfast you surprised him with. “I wouldn’t have left you on your birthday, no matter how much you insist that you’re okay,” you say, wiping your hands with a dish towel and folding it back properly to lay it over the handle of the oven door. You turn and face him to see he is still looking out the window.

“You may be physically okay,” you hedge, your face revealing you aren’t entirely sure of that statement. He had slept nearly 15 hours the night after the accident and that was after he had slept most of the day that followed the accident as well. So despite his insistence that he was fine, his body seemed to have a different opinion than his brain.

You reach out and grab his chin, slowly turning his gaze up to you.

“But I know you are devastated that you aren’t in New York,” you tell him, your words soft and your eyes caring as you meet his gaze.

“Please don’t pity me, jagia,” he grumbles, trying to pull away from you, his jaw set in frustration, his eyes determined.

You step onto the couch then, your legs crossing in front of you as you sit down in front of Seungmin, one of his legs moving to dangle off the edge of the couch. This leaves room for you to lean into his space and grab both sides of his face with your small, delicate hands and slowly pull his lips to yours.

He groans softly against your mouth. It’s only when he grunts briefly, the sound a little different than usual, that you realize you have partially sat on his leg, which he had felt the most soreness in since the accident.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, pulling away from the kiss. “I’m so sorry, babe,” you say in panic as you move to scramble off of his leg. At some point, Seungmin had set down his tea and his hands were gripping your waist. He held you in place, not allowing you to get away from him. When you look at his face, his eyes are closed and he is gently shaking his head.

“Stay,” he breathes, and if you hadn’t seen his lips move, you may not have heard the next word. “Please.”

“Seungmin,” you whisper, your hands finding purchase in his black hair, your fingers dancing along the nape of his neck as your lips crash together once more. This kiss is more desperate and full of longing as he moves to hover over you, breaking the kiss momentarily as you fall onto the couch, your back resting against the soft cushions, Seungmin’s large hands still firmly planted on your hips, but slowly moving up your torso as he kisses you.

Once settled, he pulls away and looks into your eyes, his walnut colored boba eyes round and dark with desire.

“Happy Birthday, Seungie,” you smile up at him, grasping the bottom of your shirt and pulling it over your head, to reveal your bare chest to him. Without a word, he scrambles off the couch, grabbing your hand and pulling you to a standing position. You don’t have to ask where you are going as he drags you out of the living room.

He leads you down the hallway and into your shared bedroom. Once you cross the threshold of the room, he pulls you ahead of him and guides you to the foot of the bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress at the same moment Seungmin’s lips find yours again, his tongue tangling with yours, eliciting a soft sigh that is expressed more through the rise and fall of your chest than an audible sound.

You grapple with the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and the t-shirt beneath it over his head as he lifts his arms with a small groan, your lips forced to part from his momentarily.

You kiss him quickly and then bend over to rid yourself of your shorts. As you stand, your eyes meet his and he blinks slowly, his eyes roving your body like it is the first time he has ever seen you naked. His pale, broad chest rises slightly with a sigh, his tongue darting out between his lips as he drinks you in.

You move then, crawling onto the bed and coming to rest on the mountain of pillows piled against the headboard, resting on your elbows as you watch him. Seungmin sheds his sweatpants and crawls onto the bed to join you, his body coming to rest on top of yours. He fits perfectly between your legs.

You cradle his face again, looking into his eyes. He holds your gaze long enough for you to know that no words are needed. He needs comfort and right now you need him. You will give him anything in the world to take away the sadness in his eyes. He bends down to kiss you slowly, your chests pressed together and he can’t help but cant his hips against yours as your tongue slips into his mouth, tasting every corner it touches.

Your hands wrap around to the back of his head, your fingers dancing along the now longer strands of hair that are there. His lips leave yours and start a trail along your jaw and down your neck as his now fully hard cock slides through your wet folds. Your hips buck up to meet his movements, your mouth hanging open as you breathe heavily, a reaction to the movement of his lips and hips.

Just when you think you can’t take his teasing anymore, Seungmin retreats from his attention to your neck and grabs his dick in hand, lining it up with your entrance. His eyes watch intently as the thick head of his cock breeches you, your body arching in response, a desperate attempt to draw him deeper into you.

He leans into you, getting the hint that comes without words that you need him. His lips meet yours as he pushes all the way into you, the sweet stretch of his long, hard member pulling a quiet, desperate sigh from your lungs, the smallest hint of a moan present but barely perceptible as his hips finally meet your pelvis. He doesn’t move for what feels like minutes as he kisses you, long and hard, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

It’s not until you bite his bottom lip at the same moment that your hips buck into his, that he realizes he hasn’t moved. He slowly pulls out of you and slides back in with ease, your body following the rhythm he sets. You move slowly like that for a time, the tip of his cock reaching that spongey pleasure spot inside of you as you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands drift up from your waist and fully encompass your breast as he leans back and pulls his hips away from yours and quickly snaps them back. You can feel his heavy balls slapping against your ass as his movements quicken.

Wanting to take care of Seungmin, you press your hands against his chest that is now glistening with sweat, and push him back so that your positions are switched. He slips out of you, but you are quick to scramble back on top of him, grabbing his cock and lining it back up with you and sliding down onto it, until he is fully inside you once more. Your hands rest on his chest as you take a deep breath. Seungmin’s long fingers are digging into your thighs, his eyes shut tight, his lips closed tightly as he forces himself to breathe through his nose.

You move then, your hips rocking against his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as his cock moves against your walls. His hands dance up your sides, sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to break out across your skin. You’re hot and cold all at the same time. Both of his large hands grasp your breasts and you lay your small hands on top of his, encouraging his movements as your fingers interlace with his, kneading your soft, ample breasts together.

“Y/n,” Seungmin whispers.

The sensation of his hands on your body and the whisper of your name on his lips causes you to be filled with need. You begin bouncing on his cock, the smack of skin the only sound to be heard in the otherwise quiet room. If you listen closely, you can hear the rain pelting against the window outside.

You feel that familiar coil start to tighten in your gut, your movements becoming more desperate and you clench hard around Seungmin’s cock as you chase your high. No words are necessary for him to understand that you are close so he sits up, his arms sliding around your waist and up your back, pressing your chests firmly together as you ride him fast and hard.

He kisses you fiercely and lifts you at the same moment, your back once again on the bed as he moves relentlessly inside you. Suddenly you aren’t the only one chasing that sweet release.

His hips meet yours with punctuated precision, the need to feel even closer to you growing by the second.

“Seungmin,” you whisper, the quiet signal that you’re close to letting go.

His eyes meet yours and his hips slow, languid and purposeful as he dips down to connect his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours and that is all it takes for you to explode around him, your walls fluttering frantically and your legs spasming uncontrollably. A small gasp escapes you, your head falling against the pillow, your mouth hung open in a silent cry of pleasure. Seungmin works you through your release, watching you intently as you gasp for air. As your walls’ euphoric contractions dissipate, Seungmin finds his release, burying his face in the dip of your neck, his teeth nipping lightly as he spills into you.

This action prolongs your dissipating orgasim, your hands finding purchase in Seungmin’s soft locks as your bodies quake together.

Seungmin slumps against you, spent. The energy of your releases now gone, your chests both heave against each other, your heavy breathing the only sound to be heard for several long minutes.

As your heart rates slow, Seungmin’s lip travel along the column of your neck and up along your chin. You moan weakly at his feather light kisses before his lips find their home against yours. You smile against his mouth as you hold his face to yours.

“I love you so damn much,” he mumbles against your lips. He slips out of you slowly, earning a whine from you at both the loss of contact and the loss of him. You reach out to him with grabby hands, beckoning him to return to you.

He smiles at you fondly, chuckling quietly. He reaches out and grabs one of your hands, pulling you up and to the edge of the bed.

“Shower first, then cuddle.”

You spring into action and move together to the bathroom to clean up. You're hot and sticky with sweat, so a shower is a pretty wise decision.

With the goal of cuddling in mind, it doesn’t take long to clean up, eager to climb back in bed with Seungmin.

After you dry off, you drop the soft towel and lift the comforter crawling underneath its warmth, closing it quickly and snuggling in. Seungmin takes your towels into the bathroom to hang, and returns naked, a soft sigh leaving your body at the magnificent sight of him. He too lifts the comforter, climbing in after you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling your back in close against his body.

“I love you, you know,” you say, turning your face so that you can see his eyes.

“I know,” he says with a slow blink and a small smile.

You turn in his arms and kiss him slowly.

“Happy Birthday, Seungie,” you whisper against his lips. “There is nowhere I’d rather be than here with you.”

He hugs you tighter and kisses your temple softly.

“Me too, love.”

He snuggles into you and you both fall asleep this way, thoughts of the accident and the New York trip the farthest things from your love drunk minds.

It doesn’t matter where you are with Kim Seungmin, as long as you are together, all you’ll ever need is him.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #kim seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #Kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #seungmin angst #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #skz x reader #skz smut

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moonlight-prose · 11 months

Text

✧ LOVE BETWEEN ✧

a/n: i am iffy about this fic as a whole. last night writing wise wasn't the best for me and my mood has been...oof. but i will forever love cassian so much. so i couldn't fully skip this day without finishing his fic. i need to write so much more for him and the wips in my drafts are screaming. so i guess it's time for a rewatch of andor! i hope you enjoy my loves. (also the gif has me frothing at the mouth).

day nineteen - dry humping | kinktober 2023

summary: "there remained an unspoken pull between the two of you that kept you tightly wrapped around one another. your souls knotted so tight there was no undoing what had been solidified. the unspoken future you had always planned."

word count: 1.4k+

pairing: cassian andor x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, dry humping, fluff and angst, cassian being head over heels.

There remained an unspoken pull between the two of you that kept you tightly wrapped around one another. Your souls knotted so tight there was no undoing what had been solidified. The unspoken future you had always planned. More often than not, he found himself in your home. Seeking out the pleasure of your company as you both drank the shittiest caf in existence, but it was all you could find.

He would tell you the goings on around town, the things you might have otherwise missed, and you’d speak to him about your dreams. What you wanted to strive for, what life could be like if the Empire wasn’t currently destroying everything. You spoke about anything and everything, divulging things to each other that felt too private to tell anyone else.

Tonight he sat on the shitty couch, jacket discarded onto your separate chair, and eyes tracking your every movement as you fluttered around in the kitchen. The scent of your caf wafted through the house. Burnt and bitter and familiar. You poured some into his mug before heading over to your spot beside him. The blanket already pooled around his waist.

“How is Bix?” you asked, feeling him shift to face you better as you settled, dragging the rough fabric up around your legs.

He shrugged, taking a sip and wincing at the taste. Yet another familiar movement. “She and Tim are…”

“Complicated?”

He huffed a laugh, eyes shifting to meet your gaze. “You could say that.”

“He loves her.” You set the mug on your small table that tilted slightly. “It’s obvious.”

Cassian’s voice came softer, eyes tracing the curve of your body as the blanket slipped down a bit, revealing the curve of your breasts in your top. “He does,” he murmured, fingers tightening around his mug when you shifted even closer. The air between the two of you, now warm.

Silence filled the space, laying over you like a different kind of blanket. One that offered softness, comfort. A place where you knew you could be yourself and voice what you wanted out of life. Cassian felt the same. He sunk into the couch, sipping on the caf still despite its awful flavor; a gesture that warmed your heart. The nights were a time you looked forward to most. When you could finally relish in the presence of the man you’d loved for as long as you could remember.

But to Cassian you were a friend.

Simply the person he sought out when he needed someone to make him feel like his feet were firmly planted on the ground. He wasn’t the greatest friend and he knew that. He knew that he oftentimes brought more trouble than necessary, but with you he laid his troubles by the door as if they were a coat to be hung. Something he would pick up on his way out. In order to keep that smile on your face. The joy that pressed into his chest, filling him with a feeling that he found himself running from most days.

Yet when it came to you…he didn’t want to run anymore.

You didn’t notice him setting his mug on the table, too invested in the paper beside you, something scribbled on it. “I forgot to tell you—”

Grasping the back of your neck gently, he dragged you closer, his lips finding yours and drawing out a sharp gasp from your mouth. It was a meager attempt to display those feelings that ate away at his heart. Something to show you that he came here each night for a reason. You. He came to hear your laughter, to drink your shitty caf, and watch you light up at his stories.

He came to feel the warmth of your love on an otherwise cold planet.

Seconds passed and for a moment he worried you didn’t want this. That he’d overstepped his boundaries and pushed the limit of your friendship too far. Your hands sliding into his hair and dragging him closer put a stop to those thoughts instantly. A soft moan echoed in the back of your throat, punching the breath from his lungs as he practically climbed over you. His hand grasping onto your waist, sliding your leg over his hip.

“Cas—”

“I’ve wanted to do this for years,” he mumbled breathlessly, shifting to pull you up into his lap, until your knees were pressing on either side of his hips, chest pressed to his. “Ever since that fucking dinner.”

You laughed softly, fingers tracing his jaw and Cassian forgot how to breathe for that mere moment. “The dinner wasn’t so bad.”

“Bix cooking is never a good thing.”

Another giggle filled the air as you leaned down to steal another kiss. The taste of your caf, so much better coming from your tongue. He found that he didn’t mind the flavor. As long he got to kiss you afterwards. Sucking in a breath, he bit at your bottom lips, hands sliding to grasp at your hips, pushing you even closer until no space remained.

“I met you,” he replied, watching your eyes darken with lust, lips parting when he dragged you over his already hard cock. “The only good part of that night.”

Heat flooded the back of your neck, spilling into your cheeks and overheating your body. Yet you’d never wanted something more in your whole life. He captured your lips in another kiss, hips bucking up to meet yours, a sound being pulled from your chest. Heady and wet. Similar to the way he devoured you. As if you were the only source of life for miles—kissing you until you had no choice but to gasp for air, yanking on his hair to separate yourself.

“I want—oh—” Your clit caught on the seam of your pants, the press of his cock driving you insane as he dragged you across his lap again. A deep moan bubbling up in your throat, eyes fluttering shut when pleasure burst across your senses.

“I want to see you,” he said, chest heaving and eyes dark with need.

“I’m here.”

His lips curled up, grinding into you and watching your face contort, eyebrows pulling together while your mouth dropped open. “No. I want…to see you.”

The meaning registered in your brain slower than you would have liked. Yet once it did, you couldn’t find the words to respond. Each of them more incoherent than the last. He wanted to watch you cum. To witness you at the peak of pleasure, knowing that it was caused by him.

“Cassian,” you gasped, grinding down until sparks shot up your spine. Slick flooded your panties, no doubt soaking through to his pants. You dragged yourself along his lap, arms curled around his neck and lips brushing his as he panted into your mouth.

“Take what you want,” he said hoarsely, helping you guide your movements as he bucked up into you with each shift. “Use me.”

“Maker.”

You went lightheaded. The rush of need plowing through your body as he led you through the movements. Your legs were slightly shaky, eyes squeezed shut and lips scratching along his cheek. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Cassian held you like you were precious kyber. Something he could one day lose in the middle of terror.

“I’m gonna, Maker I’m g-gonna—fuck Cas—”

Licking a hot trail up your throat, he felt you shudder above him, your cry bouncing off the walls of your house. He watched the bliss wash across your face and wanted to see it again. As many times as you’d permit him. Pressing his hips up and grinding roughly against the seam of your pants, he felt his body lock up—his rough moan pressed to your chest. His cock twitched in his pants, cum soaking through the fabric.

It would get uncomfortable soon, but he had you on top of him, pressing kissing down his neck and sucking on the skin. Drawing out another soft moan.

“That was new,” you said softly, smiling into his shoulder. He chuckled, hands moving to cover your ass. “Although I wouldn’t mind adding that to our nights.”

“Shitty caf and a good fuck?”

You slapped his shoulder, body shaking as you laughed and he couldn’t stop himself from joining. Feeling a type of joy that only came around you. He wanted to lock it in his chest. To remember what this felt like even when he wasn’t there with you. But to Cassian there was no place he’d rather be.

“Perfect,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his, sealing your future with a kiss he felt down to his toes.

#cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x y/n #cassian andor x you #cassian andor #cassian andor smut #star wars smut #my writing #kinktober 2023 #posting this late but i really wanted to get it out today

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vitzi9 · 1 year

Text

Fuck him

Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

TW/CW: murder, breaking in, voyeurism, sexual activity(it don't go far), no p in v(they're not even naked).

it's good i guess. i feel like the end is weird though. (18/07/2023) (3614 words)

Ethan sighs deeply, already feeling the frustration tears drowning his eyes. Even though his vision was blurry, he could still see your shape, of course he could, you're the only thing he could ever see. His hand was closed thight on the handle of his knife. He couldn't believe you, and at the same, he couldn't blame you as you could never do harm, not to him.

He knew your relationship was hard to maintain, but did you really have to cheat on him ? Yes, you did not talk much together, ok you did not spend time on a date in a long time but it was hard, he was busy and you were always with your friends.

The last date you had only together was something like three month ago, it was a study date. You weren't in a good mood, either. You wanted to be in your friends group but they already formed duo and as the group is uneven, you ended up with him. You weren't too happy and he knew it, so he did what he could to help you. You spent the afternoon in the library. He was so happy that day, quite the opposite of right now.

He was biting the inside of his cheek to contain any insults to come out. As much as he liked seeing you like this, he hated the situation in itself.

Ethan was fucking pissed. Hidden in your closet, his dark eyes were watching each one of your movements. Usually, the smell of your fresh and clean clothes beside him would have calmed him to a state of sleepiness. But not today.

You brought someone over.

One of his friends by that. Well, not that much of a friend. Ethan doesn't really have any, his only goal is to avenge his brother after all. None of his relationship here are true.

Expect yours. The one you and him have. It's something indescribable. A link that goes upon everything, every law and physics. He understands you better than anyone else. You understand him better than everyone else.

Each breath you take is a benediction for Ethan who's the happiest man alive thanks to your existence. It was an addiction, really. Something so hard to forget, to ignore. Ethan was deeply in love. And he's sure you are, too.

You have these eyes that tell him everything he needs to know.

But well, you weren't ready for the officialisation and the whole relationship thing. And he understands that. He truly does. As even himself had trouble accepting his love. Your link is so strong, so powerful that you can be scared of it. Of the love you have for each other. He'd die for you, he'd kill for you.

He'd do anything.

Hence why he was hidden in your closet in his ghostface suit. Because he wanted to protect you. To make you feel safe. Each time he was hiding under your bed, he heard you confess to your friends about how you have trouble sleeping, that you feel watched. And Ethan hates the idea of someone bothering you. And in the blink of an eye, he was already armed and ready to protect you.

And he's sure you feel better ! That is if he doesn't mention the time you put a blanket on the said closet because you were feeling paranoid. Ethan was worried this day, he couldn't see you anymore through the slits.

Ethan watches as the man above you on the bed pull up your shirt to let you appear bare before him. He watches as you kiss him hungrily, your hands caressing every curve of his body and Ethan wants to fucking destroy everything.

Your one night stand's hands are flat on your chest, caressing it with a barely concealed horniness. You already want more, and he seems to think like you.

Your hands goes under his shirt, touching every inch of skin you could. Your nails grazing the area from time to time and he likes it, hard, by the smile he's giving you.

You were going to pull his clothe up above his head when his phone ring. He turns his head a brief moment before you grab his jaw with your hand to make him look at you again.

"Ignore it." you say between two heated breath.

And he did just that. After all, he was as horny as you. He'd never stop anything for a stupid phone call. His tongue lick at yours, his hands pass on your perked nipple. But the phone ring again. The song was louder than your breathy moans, you were starting to get out of the mood. And the phone ring again, again and again. Until your one night stand curse and get off you. He's as frustated as you.

"Fuck, who the hell is that? he says.

The man moves away, grabbing his phone to see who was the person who ruined the mood. You sigh, a little disappointed the moment had been cut short. Finding your room's temperature way too cold in comparison to his warm body.

You're left laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and regaining your breath.

You don't have that much success with men. The times you fucked can by coumpted with one hand. So yeah, you were pissed to be bothered by a stupid phone call.

You were frustrated. You needed to fuck. This guy wasn't even your friend. He was nice enough and pretty so you went for it. But you didn't feel bad as he was probably thinking the same of you.

-So ? You ask impatiently.

-It's just Ethan. I'll put the phone in mute.

-Who's Ethan ?

-Landry ? One of my friends. He's in our math class ? Anyway, he's a friend."

By your face, he understands that you have no idea who this Ethan Landry may be. And that you don't care. This Ethan was just the fucker who disturbed you, he could go to hell for that matter. He shrugs, smiling when he can now get back to business. His hand roams your hips then go up to caress your tummy. Your hand goes on his shoulder and you pull him to you to kiss him.

The call was already forgotten. The temperature heated up.

His shirt is quickly out of the way, same for his pants and yours. His clothed erection rub against your genitals, you're burning from the inside. You thrust your hips against his and he smiles.

Your hand grab a handful of his hair and pull on it, the man smiles, his mouth leaving yours to start and suck on your neck. The boner in his underwear rub against your underwear. His last piece of clothes was hot and wet. At this point, it felt like he was naked. You could feel every veins and curve of it against you.

Finally, you thought, you're finally getting some dick. You just hope he's good.

Ethan saw fucking red. His hands were shaky. His whole body crumble with rage. His thoughts are full of one thing: fucking destroy him.

He had the audacity to take his lover from him, he had the audacity to fuck them before him, he had the audacity to fucking ignore him ?

No, no that's not possible. No, of course no. Ethan is a man of words. He swore he wouldn't let you slip between his fingers and he fucking won't. Tears fall from his eyes, from anger ? Sadness ? Frustration ? He doesn't know. But he starts laughing.

You both stop moving. The man turn around and stare at the closet before looking at you again, as if to make sure you heard that too.

Everything happened well too quickly for you to understand. You blinked and a man rushed out of the closet, knife in hand. Clothed in a Ghostface outfit. You screamed and tried to back off him, but with a wall behind you, you couldn't go really far.

Ghostface jumps on the bed, knife in the air, and suddenly, he plunges the blade in your fling's body. Blood splatter everywhere. Tears are running down your face and you can't control yourself.

You try to leave and fall off the bed before crawling on the ground to the door. You were still facing him as to be sure he wasn't coming to you. But it didn't seem he was interested by you.

It was as if he didn't even saw you.

Ghostface plunges his knife once, twice, and a lot more time in the already lifeless body with an uncontrollable rage. His hits were fast and angry, he was taking everything out on him. Hitting everywhere he could.

Crying, you try to get up, you fall the first time because of your shaking legs but you're standing seconds later. As silently as possible, you leave the room. You grab your phone and try to open the door but cry harder when it's locked. Your roomate locked it when they left.

Where is the key ? Where is the fucking key ? You don't want to die. You don't want to die ! In your panick, you drop your phone. But in a rush, you don't bother picking it up again.

By the time you found it, Ghostface was done with his prey. He was waiting for you before the door, head tilted. Blood was dripping from his knife and the white color of his mask was almost non existent.

You shake your head, crying your eyes out. The keys tightly held in your hands. You're dead. You're dead and you don't even know what you did to deserve that.

He stays before the door, no budging. He knows this door is your last hope and he's crushing it before your eyes. You try to think of another exit but there is none. You're at the fifth floor, if you jump, you're dead. But maybe it's better than to be killed because you know for sure: Ghostface is going to kill you.

"Please, you beg, I didn't do anything. you shake your head, body trembling like a leaf.

-I know." he says.

It wasn't even a real voice. You'll never know who is your killer. Your heart was probably going to explode at this rate. You couldn't breath, eyes boring into his hands, makig sure he wasn't moving. You were choking on your own saliva, crying each time his head moved a little.

When he takes a step, you squeal and back off, begging and crying, your words were slurred together, you couldn't even understand yourself what you were saying. You don't want to die, not like this. Your vision is blurry by your tears, all you see of him is a black spot with a white point. He's approaching.

"Don't cry, my love. I'm here." he says.

You frown and look at his mask in search of an answer. You couldn't see his facial expression and it was killing you. Who is this ? What do they want ? Why do they act as if they know you? You're scared, you're going to throw up.

"Please, let me live. you beg, one last time.

-I will, love. I will."

When he arrives before you, you close your eyes tightly. Praying this would be quick. But instead of slaughtering you like he did to the other, he puts his arms around you, holding you close to him. He shush you slowly, like you're a clid.

You're tensed, you stopped breathing and you're completly paralyzed. Every one of your muscle is put in pause. You don't dare look at his face, instead, you keep your eyes to the robe.

"Calm down, he says, you're okay. It's just me."

He was calm and you couldn't understand a thing. Who is 'me' ? Why doesn't he kill you when he already killed someone ? Why is he even hugging you ? What's happening ? You need to get out of here. Right, now.

"You're safe with me. Nothing will happen to you." you know his mask, his words, will haunt you until your death.

And when he lets you go, he gives you your phone back. He puts his hand on your head, touching your hair slowly before leaving by the front door.

Your eyes bore holes in the door, terrified at the idea of him coming back. You fall on the ground and vomit everything you could. Bawling your eyes out, you remember the dead man in your bed and call the cops with a shaky hands.

You don't remember much after that. Just that at some point, cops came and escorted you outside. You were alone on the parking building when you saw stretcher-bearer bring the dead body of the poor man in their car.

You stare at your hands, they're shaking and you want to throw up again just thinking about everything. The criminal fled, he killed him and he fled. You burst out in tears again, closing your eyes. A nurse comes talk to you but you can't hear anything. They're guiding you, you just follow.

You're empty. You can't think of aything else than the dead man. He's dead and you're not, why ? That's unfair. You're the one who invited him over. You should have died.

When you recognize a little more your surrondings, you're seated on the edge of the ambulance car with a coat on the shoulder, and now, you wear a pant. Hugging yourself. You don't even know how you got here, nor when. But you don't care. He's dead. He died. What the fuck. He got killed. Someone killed him. Someone was in your fucking closet in the first place. Was it even the first time ?

You know cops will ask you questions and you have no idea what you're supposed to tell them. That the man you were going to fuck had been killed by a ghostface hidden in your damn closet ? Yeah, you'll be put in jail before the end of your story. Your face is so dry, your body is numb. You can't feel anything other than guilt.

Ghostface disappeared, there is no proof of him having been there. From everyone's point of view, you two were alone and you killed him.

He's dead. The only man you ever talked to in months, dies after minutes in your flat. You're cursed. Did you really kill him ? No, no you didn't. You couldn't have known a killer was at home. It's not your fault. It's not your fault, it's not your fault.

Someone walks towards you. You know it's the cops. It's the end. It's the moment where you're wrongfully accused. Your eyes were glued to the ground and shoes enter your field of view. It do not look like cop's legs.

Well, if it is, he's not in service. Because that's a jean you're seeing right now. You follow the member further up to the face. You frown. That's definitely not a cop.

He smiles at you. He's young, maybe your age. He has curly hair and a boyish face. Who is that ?

"Hey, he says. You okay?

Your eyes are red and glossy. You're covered in blood and it's not even yours. You look like you saw a ghost and somehow, you did.

Do you look okay ? Is that really a fucking question ? Because you just witnessed a murder and you almost died yourself. So no, you're not fucking okay.

-Yeah, right. Sorry." He says.

He's not a nurse and he's not a cop. But he's not your friend or family either. Who is he ?

-My name's Ethan. I was a friend of... And it clicks. He's the one who called: Ethan Landry, from your math class.

-Yeah, I know."

Ethan sits next to you on the edge of the car. He smiles lightly. You ask yourself what is he doing here then decide to ignore it. He lost a friend. He raises his hand towards you, searching your eye for peermission to touch you and you shrug. He caresse gently your back to rassure you, to soothe you.

You don't know him but he's nice and you need someone. Everyone is running back and forth, ignoring you. You witnessed a damn murder and nobody bother to stay with you.

You two stayed like this a really long time. At least, in your mind it was long. Ethan tried to approach you more, moving his body. Then, he pulled your head to force you to lay it on his shoulder. But you didn't want to.

So you got up and moved away from him. When you faced him, his eyes were empty. You couldn't see any emotion. No sadness, no fear, no hapiness, no anger, just a void. It made a chill run down your spine.

Fortunaly, two cops arrived. One of them smiled at you, you didn't feel any compassion but he at least had the decency to try unlike the other who simply left without a word. The man tells you to sit down and you do, far from Ethan. Then, when you thought he'd talk to you, he turned to your new 'friend'.

"Ethan, right ? You told my colleague you were their boyfriend?

What ? You look at your said boyfriend and frown? Why would he say that ?

-Yes, I am. And I was a good friend of... He sighs but something in you tells you it's fake. I can't believe he's...

Something isn't right.

-Since the witness, your partner, is in shock and can't talk, we'd like you to share your contact details as we have to convoke you later for your deposition.

Why can't I talk ? Why is Ethan looking at me ? His eyes seems loving at first glance but when you really look into them, there is a sense of threat that reside. He's talking to you without words. He tells you to keep it shut.

-Of course, no problem. he stays silent while grabbing his phone, then lift his eyes and stare at the cops face. Just so you know, they didn't do anything.

-We'll see about that. Says the cop to conclude the interaction.

-Yeah, we'll see." Says 'Ethan' with a clenched jaw.

When the cops leave, you're left alone with him once again. Your hearing is muffled. In the background, a faint siren noise. Blurry stains of red and blue is all you see. The man puts his hand on your thight and you cringe. You try to get away from him, from this stranger.

Frustrated, hot tears start flowing down your face. You don't even cry strictly speaking as you stay silent. You can't feel anything, your body is just reacting to the situation alone. Ethan raises his hand to dry your tears and you back off to avoid him touching you.

Who the hell is this man ? And why is he here ? Telling everyone he's your partner ? Someone is dead for god's sake ! Does he really think it's the best time to joke ?

Other officers arrive towards you. You want to tell them you don't know who that damn man is. You want to scream at them so bad yet you can't. You don't know why but you can't move.

Ethan takes you in his arms. Tightening his hold around you. From the exterior, he looks like a caring boyfriend comforting his partner. But it's not. You don't know him.

Cops don't pay attention to you anymore, simply analyzing the area. You're left alone with him, this 'Ethan'. Is it really his name ? You don't find him as nice as before. Actually, you feel in danger with him. You try to push him but he hold you so thight it hurt.

He lifts you up without a care. You're scared. You don't know who he is nor what he wants, what he'll do. Just like Ghostface.

"Let me go." you cry, with weak and shaky voice as loud as a whisper.

He ignores it. He presses your chest flat against his, shushing you. And you know, you know it's him. You recognize him. You struggle, trying to leave. But he forces, hurting you. You beg, praying someone could come. But even if they did, they'd think you're crazy. Crazy after seeing such a horrible scene. Nobody will believe you.

Your body is shaking, you have trouble breathing and you can't articulate your thoughts. There is so much happening, outside and inside your head.

"Don't cry, my love. I'm here." he says, and you know, you know he said that.

Your tears are flowing freely. You close your eyes, trying to stop them but it's impossible. You're whining, pushing him away with all the sthrenght left in you, which isn't a lot. It's him, it's his fault. He killed him, he's Ghostface. You know it.

"Breath, it's okay.

No it's not. It's the killer, you're stuck with him. He won't ever let you go. He killed him with so much hatred, with so much rage. You're terrified of what he could do to you. He used such a violent manner to do it, too.

You can't even tell how many times this monster stabbed him. It was never ending. He never was satisfied, his fury keeping him from stopping.

You cry, and cry and cry but nobody cares. Maybe it is your fault. Maybe he really got killed because of you. Or maybe you could have helped.

-You're safe with me. Nothing will happen to you."

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