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weirdomellow · 6 hours

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Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

Aaaaaaah love how they met and Ari being ab absolute menace as always 😂

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.

Well, that couldn’t be right.

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right?

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school.

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.

“As much as I can be.”

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.

But not now.

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle.

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END

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weirdomellow · 1 day

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Became instantly obsessed with this on this horny Monday 😂😫🥵

Just love the innocence of Cherry and the fact that she somehow almost never asks Steve to put on a condom.... I wonder why

Cherry Masterlist

soft!dark Steve Rogers x female reader; enforcer!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Steve Rogers is an enforcer for mafia and despite being a shy, good girl you tangle yourself in a hot fling with him.

warnings: soft!dark Steve Rogers; light corruption kink; explicit sexual content; dirty talk; mild power imbalance; consensual;

Cherry drabble

starting their first date

pic inspired

Who touched her?

his harlot starlet

lazy Sinday drabble

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weirdomellow · 2 days

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Updated bio with masterlist of my drabbles and smutty thots 😌

ABOUT ME

💖 30s, bi, she/her

💖Masterlist is below :)

💖 Main blog is desire-and-magic

💖 I am reblogging amazing fanfic I come across, I also write some drabbles when the inspiration comes

💖 Fangirling over Sebastian Stan pretty hard

💖 Feel free to ask questions

⚠️MINORS, BLANK BLOGS OR BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE WILL BE BLOCKED

MASTERLIST

• Riding Bucky (Bucky Barnes x female reader)

• Buzzing Sensations (DBF! Ari Levinson x female reader)

• On the beach with Ari (Ari Levinson x female reader

• Threesome with Ari Levinson (Ari Levinson x female reader x female reader)

#updated bio #shameless reblog

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weirdomellow · 2 days

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This was so hot fuck 🥵🥵🥵

His moustache? His dominance? Yes, Sir, I will do whatever you say 🥵🥵🥵

okay I can't help it his moustache is just so-

Cum Together - Lloyd

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: 18+, Smut (Did I say that out loud?), Face sitting (Well that was fast.?), and of course Prompt: Oral (Fem receiving), Pet name (Princess), Mention of spanking (use of belt)/ masturbating/ dacryphilia, a little biting kink if you squint, Sadist!Lloyd Hansen (Him being a warning himself, okay?)

Summary: Lloyd told you to sit. And you'd better sit as told.

A/N: A big thank you to @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 for starting this amazing event<3

"Sit." He growls with all his patience thrown out of the window, not that he has any, to begin with, "You wouldn't like what happens if I say it twice."

Okay. It's probably a bad idea, for the hesitation is still visible on your face.

When you were caught watching some face-sitting porn with your hand in your panties, you certainly did not expect this coming. Most certainly not Lloyd lying on the bed, demanding you to sit on his face as "the interesting way to fuck" demonstrated. And part of the reason for your hesitation: the boyfriend in the porn had his face clean-shaven, while Lloyd has that abomination of a moustache on his face that you both hate and love.

"Tik tok, princess," Lloyd clicks his tongue, "let's make your poor lacey panties worth dying for."

Lloyd tore them off you upon seeing your effort of trying to bring yourself an orgasm, claiming that you won't be needing them since you are a slutty little baby who couldn't live a second without playing with her princess parts. You curse silently in your mind. That brute.

However, the last time you ignored his orders, your ass went flaming red because that brute spanked you with his belt - that's what you'll get if you don't comply with his orders in a limited time.

"Fine." You mumble reluctantly, kneeling with your hands gripping the headboard and hovering above his face.

Lloyd, on the other hand, hauls you by your waist and pushes you to sit on his face - completely, eliciting a soft surprised squeal from your lips as his nose digs into your clit, and his moustache prickling your sensitive pedals.

Your mind goes blank for a complete second, before hurriedly balancing yourself with your hands on the headboard and removing your weight from his face - you hate him, alright, but not enough to crush his skull for that.

A harsh slap burns your ass unexpectedly, having you lose control over your body and your weight-distribution.

"I said sit, princess, I didn't say you could get up," Lloyd grumbles under your body, muffling his own sounds with a few slurping noises of licking your dripping heat.

Okay, fine. That was technically your fault for getting spanked.

"B-But I might suffo- oh God, suffocate you." You stutter in words, gripping the headboard tighter than you'd thought you would, "Ow fuck, Lloyd, I-"

The deliberate move of nudging your bundle of nerves with the bridge of his nose successfully shuts you up as you bite your lower lip and whimper.

"I don't care if you drown me with that sweet pussy," Lloyd rumbles. He spares no second thrusting his tongue into your leaking hole and moans, "Fuck, baby, so fucking sensitive. Clenching on my tongue... You like that, princess? Fucking your creamy hole with my tongue?"

You whimper in response. Your hips chasing his annoying clit-tickler while he is flattening his tongue all over your soaking pussy, eating like a man starved for days.

"Lloyd," You mewl weakly, knowing the tight coil in your belly is going to snap, "Lloyd, please-"

He sucks your puffy clit between his lips and hums.

That was all it takes for you to cum on his face.

You must have blacked out for a few seconds, gasping for air like a fish out of water, and your muscles spasming, leaving you into the soft clouds of pleasure that wrap around your body, giving you a fuzzy and funny feeling.

You giggle when that brute emerges from between your thighs and takes a breath.

Cocking his eyebrows, he spares no mercy on your state of euphoria, sinking his teeth on your delicate inner thigh. Can you blame him for he'd prefer to see you crying? Or to see you cry out loud, for that matter?

"What the -" You send a glare his way, feeling the sharp pain since his teeth most certainly draw out blood, "You beast."

Yeah, he prefers it this way. With your glares and curses and screams. But this has been fun though, to see you tremble and moan, helpless as to how he was playing your body like an instrument that only he gets to tune and listen to. That he always loves.

And now that your clit has become puffy and swollen red, he can't wait to put his little toys on it to hear those beautiful cries coming out of your lips.

Find my Cum Together Trifecta here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

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weirdomellow · 2 days

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"Now-" he adjusted the sleeves of his wool coat- "grab your coat and leave your panties. We have to get going, or we'll be late, but you are going to be bent over a table anyway."

This ended me 😫

Quick drabble/riff prompt! What’s the first thing that comes to mind for: soft!dark Andy + “I gotta admit, I’m pleasantly surprised by that fire of yours, honey.”

The first gulp of air you took as Andy stepped into the office rattled your ribs with fear.

A part of you wanted him to find you. To see what you were doing. But your self-preservation instinct was working overtime, screaming at you how bad this could end.

The image of Andy pressing the muzzle of the gun into your former boyfriend's forehead is still vivid in your memory.

Andy is a dangerous man. One who wouldn't hesitate to shoot someone in a public place in the middle of the day. And he would get away with it. No witnesses, no prosecutor, no judge.

As he got away with forcing you to marry him.

Perhaps you hadn't yet found a way to escape this arrangement - just as you weren't able to squirm away when he fucked your brains out - but you were going to keep trying.

If not running away, then at least making your opinion on this marriage known.

When Andy reminded you (in that calm, stoic voice that seemed soft, but was an iron demand) to prepare for the evening out, commenting that he wanted to show off his beautiful wife, you almost threw a heel at him.

Then, already dressed in the most exquisite dress, you went into his office and ripped that marriage certificate into pieces.

Which you then threw into a bin. With a lit match.

That's how Andy found you.

Your eyes met. Small flames eating the damn pact that signed your life over to Andy were casting flickers of glow on your face. Andy remained in the doorway, cloaked in semi-shadow.

"I gotta admit," he said, completely unperturbed by your outburst, "I’m pleasantly surprised by that fire of yours, honey."

"Now-" he adjusted the sleeves of his wool coat- "grab your coat and leave your panties. We have to get going, or we'll be late, but you are going to be bent over a table anyway."

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weirdomellow · 4 days

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Happy Friday Eva 🤩

Soo I saw this... which of our beloved Dom-Subs do you think would be into this in our Ruby Garden-verse 😌

Hiii! Happy Fri-yay! 🎉

That's more of a Pumpkin and Lloyd style than any of the other couples. They're both into a certain level of degradation and verbal humiliation.

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weirdomellow · 8 days

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weirdomellow · 9 days

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i think lloyd would have a boudoir in his room 🥺 somewhere to store his, ahem, copious bottles of cologne and for you to get ready 🫶🏻

Lloyd absolutely as a boudoir! He has no shame, he likes having the space to get ready but also likes to watch his prize wife getting ready.

We all know man is a man of luxury.

He's a king and likes to live like one.

The master bedroom is huge- big enough to make a separate sitting area and dressing room

Which is exactly what he did

For a while it was a place for him to go to- like a man cave of sorts.

He'd smoke his cigars, display his whiskey and cologne, watch football games and such.

But then he met you, and what is a king without his queen?

He moved his man cave to another room in the house and the old room became your boudoir.

He kept his cologne in there though, because you said how much you like smelling it and how you spritz it on when he goes on long business trips.

Lloyd loves watching you go around trying on different outfits

Perhaps it's his voyeuristic kink, or his love of you and your routine

You're just like him in terms of luxury- you have too many clothes to count, twice as many shoes and accessories

Most men would probably complain about that, but not Lloyd

He's happy he's finally found his match in terms of primping and pampering

And not to mention, the love seats and fainting couch is such a fun spot for some dirty play 🫠

Many a times as he taken you in that room and had to get someone to clean up your juices

Because let's be real, as hot as it is he isn't letting anything ruin that room lmao!

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weirdomellow · 9 days

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Reading this for the 48848484th time and falling in love with the idea of Dom Steve and his painful but delicious punishments 🥰

steve rogers with an authority/discipline kink with his wife 🥹

Cinderella’s punishment

More precious than rubies Masterlist

Ruby Garden Series

Dom!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: Dom/sub dynamic; established relationship; authority kink; bdsm; ssc (safe sane consensual); power imbalance; Dom Steve Rogers; dominant!Steve; submissive wife; discipline; spanking;

Your smile fades and your bouncy step with which you walked in falters when you notice Steve's stern face.

His arms are crossed over his chest, his legs spread wide in a stance he takes when debriefing his team. Or when he’s about to drop you into a scene.

"What time is it?"

The surprising softness of his voice combined with the most casual question distract you.

You open your mouth to answer, but pause. You have no idea what time it is. And in that instant you realizes everything.

"I don't know." You bow your head low in shame, admitting quietly.

"It's past midnight, Cinderella," he says. Despite the pet name his tone isn't playful. Quite the contrary, it's clipped and heavy.

"And what time were you supposed to be home?"

"Eleven," you reply, hanging your head even lower. You hate disappointing Steve.

"And?" The fact you show remorse is good, but won't cease the punishment that has to follow.

You have struggled with that a lot in the beginning, but after a few sessions and conversations you began to understand how it works.

A punishment always follows when the rules you both agreed upon are broken in any way. Remorse is appreciated, Steve is always pleased that you recognize your mistakes and feel repentant, but discipline has to be held so you can learn.

You sigh and sniffle a little, far from crying, but already sensing you may end tearing up pretty soon.

"And I was supposed to call you when I'm leaving the party and how I'd be getting home. Or, if needed, ask you to come for me." You swallow hard.

"Did you do any of those things?" Steve always makes you talk. Makes you voice everything, not bottle it inside. Never evade.

"No, Captain," you reply quietly, switching to the title he prefers when the dynamic shifts.

"Exactly." Steve once again feels the cold worry creeping up his spine and then a flash of anger that followed. He's glad you got home safe, but for over an hour he was worried as hell.

He almost stormed out to seek you out. Was few minutes away from calling Stark to get a satellite track on you.

"Eyes up!" He demands and you instantly obey.

"You were supposed to call, but not only you failed to do so, you also didn't pick up when I called you.” A muscle in his jaw twitches and you tremble.

“I take it your phone is in your purse, but you were having too good of a time to even notice it ringing. Which tells me that you irresponsibly didn't check your phone for the whole night. Moreover, you let some stranger drive you home. Not a cab, not your publisher even, but some other guest from the party I assume?"

You nod at that, tears now filling your eyes. Shame and guilt lay heavy in your stomach.

"What I see here, darling, is a heavy chain of irresponsible decisions in one evening." Steve’s voice is a whip of that Captain command that puts everyone to attention, you included.

You clear your throat before speaking up, your voice cracking with a suppressed sob - "Yes, Captain. I'm sorry."

Steve nods, but his face only hardens, eyes turning icy blue.

"Strip," he orders.

You hesitate only a split of a second. You places your purse on the coffee table then take off your dress. Folding it neatly and placing on the floor next to your bare feet. You slide your underwear down, placing the lacy items atop the dress.

Knowing a severe scene is about to follow, you take off your bracelet and earrings too.

Fully naked, you clasp your hands in front of you, intertwining your shaking fingers.

Though filled with remorse and awful awareness of disappointing Steve, your body still reacts to his dominance in a sexual manner. Your nipples stiffen, a flush of heat washes over you from the inside.

You cast a glance at Steve and notice the very subtle move of his hand. He points at the floor with one finger and you immediately drop to your knees as gracefully as you can.

Butt on your heels, thighs slightly spread, backs of your hands placed on your knees and head bowed low.

"Stay here until I come for you," Steve commands and then moves away.

For a second you get a glimpse of his bare foot in your line of vision before he walks away. For a man so big and strong, Steve moves unexpectedly gracefully and quiet.

Beyond your control, thoughts of Steve's toned, skilled body enter your mind. They don't settle in fully, because you’re all strained with the overwhelming guilt and tension upon the coming punishment. But just a glimpse of memory of his body over yours is enough to heat you up a tad more.

You’re not sure how much time passes, but it's long enough for your body to feel not only cold, but also heavy with guilt that lingers and lingers. Your thoughts focus around the evening and how you ruined it with irresponsible, careless decisions.

If Steve was out and you waited for him at home, you'd be worried if he didn't contact you at least once.

And getting home with a guy you basically just met at the party was so stupid! Though your own publisher knows Ryan, another writer, and has introduced the two of you, you should know better than to get into a car with a stranger.

You feel your eyes filling with tears, your shoulders trembling with barely constrained sobs.

You clench your fingers a few times to regain some warmth, but it's to no use. Your limbs tend to get really cold even on summer days.

"Cold?" Steve’s voice startles you.

“Yes, Captain, a little," she replies quietly, keeping your eyes on the floor. He didn't allow you to look up yet.

After changing into more comfortable clothes and preparing the bedroom for what he's planned - and he had a lot of time to plan this out, over a whole hour filled with worry and determination to make his submissive wife remember to never act so irresponsible again - Steve came back to the living room.

He watched you for a longer moment, noting how you slowly boiled with guilt.

He notices your fingers clenching, not in anger, but clear attempt at getting your circulation to work. Steve almost smiles - you always have cold hands and feet. And the tip of your cute nose.

But it's not yet time to show you softness, there's still the punishment you both have to go through.

While Steve enjoys immensely administrating little punishments, usually in form of a playful spanking, or edging, he never enjoys giving the real, sever punishment.

He knows it's needed. Not only for him to express his disappointment, but most of all for you to work your guilt out, to let go off all the frustration at your own behavior and its consequences.

He walks forward, circling your body and standing in front of you.

"You'll warm up soon enough," he says, his voice ls smooth and tempting, despite speaking of upcoming punishment.

"Now, you will get on your hands and knees and crawl to the bedroom. Slowly."

Steve's order strikes up a jolt. It's both dread for the oncoming proceedings as well a prickle of arousal.

You don’t like humiliation, but when it's for Steve’s eyes, you can handle it. For your Captain.

Trusting him to never push the line and administer only small doses of humiliation. And it's always only physical in a way, never even coming close to verbal.

That’s how it all started between the two of you - Steve saving you from the unhealthy habit of degrading yourself; of running away from something that could praise your body.

Taking a shaky breath, you drop on all fours. You bow your head, your hair spilling all around. You turn slowly and start crawling toward the bedroom. Slowly, like he demanded, but not even daring to put any sassy seduction into your moves.

It's not about teasing him now, but accepting your punishment.

Steve watches you, then follows. He definitely enjoys the view. His beautiful submissive wife surrendering to him, your ass on full display. Soon it will carry some pretty marks, too.

As you enter the bedroom you notice the ominous presence of the sawhorse.

Steve never owned many bdsm furniture. There's a lot of various restraints and toys in your house, yes, but when it comes to actual furniture there's only the bed - so fucking comfortable for something so sturdy and adorned with loops for chains and straps.

Bed and that sawhorse. Dark wood and leather. Adjustable panels for legs and arms, as well option of lowering the main panel in various degrees.

You stop a few steps from the sawhorse, maintaining your position on all fours. You can feel Steve moving beside you.

He crouches down. Runs a hand down your arm, then puts a cuff around your wrist. Slowly, he stands up and moves around to repeat the action on your other arm. Then moves behind you.

He slides his hand up your thigh and over your buttocks, but doesn't even knead it. Moving his hand back down your thigh and over your calf to secure cuffs around each of your ankles.

"Get on the sawhorse," this time Steve’s voice is a little softer, but not enough to give you any kind of reassurance.

As always when on it, Steve makes sure you’re strapped quite tightly, preventing any moves.

You would be able to only receive and nothing more. Which heightens sensations. Any sensations - both spanking (unable to shake off the stinging) as well pleasure (without any movement to arch and writhe).

"Tell me why are you being punished," Steve asks as he walks around the sawhorse and takes a stand behind you at an angle perfect to lash your bare ass.

"Because I was irresponsible," you start listing.

Right after saying your first fault, Steve lands a hard slap across your ass. You yelp, despite expecting it to come.

Quickly sucking in breath, you speak again:

"I came back way past curfew-" another hit, leaving a terrible sting on your butt- "I didn't call you," third lash brings out your first tears.

You sniffle, letting out a few whimpers, before continuing.

"I didn't check my phone, failed to reply to your calls," merely four slaps in and your ass is already turning sore.

"I-" you choke a little- "I got into a car with a man who is a stranger to me." Tears streak down your cheeks as Steve strikes again.

His hand is always so firm, holding so much power. It’s astonishing how soft and tender he can be with you, how gently he can touch you. Not now, though.

Now he’s spanking you terrifyingly hard.

"Good," Steve praises you. Still, it's not the soft, sweet like honey praise you love to hear from him. This is merely an acknowledgment that you listed all the right reasons.

Steve rubs his hand over your ass. He places his other hand on your back, caressing it.

"We're not over, darling. You will take more."

"Yes, Captain," you reply through tears.

Your head drops lower, both in shame and in fear of expected strikes. Suddenly Steve’s fingers weave into your hair and he pulls your head up.

"Keep it higher, love," his command is interlaced with gentleness and concern, "You're crying and will be sobbing in a few moments, hanging your head low will result in dizziness."

Hearing such concern warms your heart, bringing out even more tears that undoubtedly completely ruin your make up now.

Steve loves you so much, cares for you so much, and you have disappointed him with such immature, irresponsible behavior.

"Soon, darling, you'll let it all out soon.” Steve keeps rubbing your back, cooing at you now. “Better brace yourself."

Not giving you more time to prepare, Steve starts spanking you anew. Hard, heavy strikes, regularly switching between your cheeks, moving across both at once.

He purposely lands some lower, where the roundness of your ass meets thighs and where it hurts more.

Like he warned, you bursts into sobs and screams. Unable to move even an inch, no wiggling off the burning and pain. You can only clench your hands and strain your feet.

Accept it all. And cry.

Each of your wails is interrupted by a broken, "I'm sorry, Steve!"

You don’t count the strikes, too immersed in pain and acceptance, but Steve has everything under control. As always. He observes your body closely, not only the forming welts, but also how your muscles tense.

When your head starts to fall down, he slows the pace of his hand until he stops fully.

"There, there," he he rubs your aching flesh, purposely harder to make you still experience the pain.

"You took your punishment well, darling. I'm pleased." His words reach you, but you’re too shaken to fully bask in that praise.

Tears stream down your face, dripping on the floor. Your nose feels stuffy and you keep on sniffling.

Steve walks over to the bedside table, takes a few tissues, a bottle of water and returns to you.

Crouching in front of you, he brushes your messy hair aside. With a thumb he strokes your tear-streaked cheek.

"You did good, my love," he repeats and uses tissues to wipe the smudged mascara from your face.

With a soft chuckle he wipes your nose, his heart swelling when you lets him do that without even a glare. It’s a small thing, but a sign of such intimacy.

"Now," he opens the bottle of water and brings it to your lips, "take a few small sips."

As you drink the water, slowly settling down, Steve keeps stroking your hair. Then he puts the bottle aside, moves a finger under your chin and tilts your face up.

You recognize that look. Not cold anymore. Now his eyes shine with mischievous sparks.

It doesn’t bode well for a restrained submissive. Yet, you get curious and excited about what he’ll do to you next.

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weirdomellow · 10 days

Note

Cedar Trees OR I’m Your Man + sleepy morning orgasm 😘

Both! both both both!

BUT

I did write FINALLY FINISH a little something for one of them. I've been thinking of this man for quite a while...

Title: Morning Radiance Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 750

Content Warnings: explicit smut - nipple play, spanking, oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, implied oral - male receiving, somnophilia, DUBIOUS CONSENT

Logistical Notes: Takes place immediately after I'm Your Man. Probably can't stand alone. Not edited.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You stir slowly into consciousness, your body already humming with pleasure, but every inch of you is also still heavy with exhaustion. There's a warm glow of morning sun touching your skin, but it's not too bright yet.

You become aware of a warm, wet mouth worshipping your breast, and you let out a content little sigh. A large hand is kneading at the other breast, but your stirring spurs that calloused hand to move down the softness of your stomach, caress your hip, and then down the length of your leg. When it moves back up, this time along the tender flesh of your inner thigh, you spread your legs and give a little hum, aware of your nakedness and glad you don’t have to rustle out of any clothes and can cling to the strings of sleepiness. You’re already wet, and you distantly registering you don’t know how long your bedmate has been working your body.

A nip at the underswell of your breast makes you gasp and draws you closer to wakefulness, but your closed eyes are still too content, so you stay mostly in your sleepy state.

“Mmm, I love how responsive you are,” the voice still thick with morning roughness makes you tense as the events of the night before flood your memory.

It’s Andy Barber’s voice.

It’s Andy Barber’s palatial bed you’re in.

It’s Andy Barber’s beard and lips and tongue exquisitely torturing your breast. His hand teasing your thoroughly ruined pussy.

Andy Barber who thoroughly ruined and punished your holes and limbs.

Andy who dangled ruining your career and reputation by spreading the word you were a thief after having someone plant three of his Rolex watches in your bag and “confronting” you about it after all was said and done with the charity gala you had planned and executed flawlessly.

He removes his hand only to rain down a quick succession of slaps to your pussy, and you cry out and try to snap your legs closed, but it’s futile as part of his lower half rests over your right leg, keeping you splayed out for him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your breast before giving it one more long suck. “I’ll always temper the pain with pleasure.”

You whimper and try again to move your hips, but he bars them to the bed and quickly settles at your core, nestled between your thighs with your legs over his shoulders.

And then he worships your cunt with slow kisses and long licks, soothing the sting he’d inflicted and stoking your body’s need for him.

“No,” you whine.

He chuckles because even as the protest falls from your lips, your right hand comes down to twine your fingers in his hair and push him more firmly against your dripping hole.

You bring your other hand up to cover your face, and then you pull it back, clicking the unfamiliar feel of metal against your skin and unexpected weight there.

Twisting your wrist to look at the back of your hand, you gasp at the flawless, sparkling diamond engagement ring. It’s larger than anything you would have dreamed of, but just within the realm of still being tasteful and not ostentatious.

He slipped it on your hand at some point in the night.

“You like it?” Andy pauses, leaning up to look at you and gage your reaction.

“It’s gorgeous,” you confess, but it’s one more thing you didn’t ask for, didn’t get to choose, in a long line of things Andy has promised and taken since revealing what he wanted last night.

“It’s perfect for you,” he says with satisfaction before returning to your clit.

You whimper as he edges you ever closer to orgasm.

The previous night he’d wrung every drop of pleasure out of you, playing your body until you passed out with exhaustion. He’d told you not to plan on leaving his bed this weekend, and as he pushes you onto that precipice yet again, you don’t question now how serious he is. He plunges two thick fingers into your hole, and you groan in the bliss that overtakes you.

He lets you catch your breath while he kisses back up your body, then kneels over your chest and taps his hard cock to your chin. “Come on, sweetheart, let me see that pretty ring shine while you jerk me off and suck the tip of my cock.”

And that’s only the first set of orgasms for the morning.

He’s got the rest of Saturday and Sunday to enjoy his new fiancé.

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Do we still like I'm Your Man Andy? I know I haven't posted anything for them since December...

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weirdomellow · 10 days

Note

This has become one of my favorite AUs 🥰🫠😭🔥

The way he is so dark and sneaky and ngghh I want him to do the meanest and baddest things to me 🫠

Sweet, sweet Aspen. You have been a very bad girl. This soft!dark guy, your boss, caught you doing something wrong—something that could easily get you fired—but he decided maybe, jussst maybe, he should keep your indiscretion, and your resulting punishment, between the two of you. After all, he’s been dreaming about filling you with his cock for ages 😏

(I picked this GIF because it looks like he’s saying, “On your knees.” lolll)

well, dearly beloved sister ho, you know we were thirsting over a particularly ... inspiring gif.

I don't think you anticipated your ask to spawn THIS, but... here we are! THANKS FOR POPPING MY ANDY CHERRY!

Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: I'm Your Man Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 3k

Summary: You've spent weeks working to pull off the perfect night for Andy Barber's big charity event. A rush job, but you worked meticulously and diligently over six weeks to coordinate the biggest event of your career to date. You weren't the only one with a plan for the night.

Content Warnings: extortion, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT, spitting, oral - male receiving, spanking, vaginal intercourse, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Logistical Notes: A NAUGHTY submission @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice challenge. Prompts incorporated are in bold.

Additional Notes: I didn't want to write a summary. There's only enough plot here to smut you up. Dividers by @rookthornesartistry and @firefly-graphics.

You sit up straight when you hear the door to Andy’s home office open behind you.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he says as he strides across the room and takes a seat in the leather executive desk chair.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Barber,” you reply. Every part of your body is tired – tired in a good way from the long day of work – so you were eager to get home, soak in your tiny tub, and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend, but it hadn’t been an incredible inconvenience when he’d asked if he could speak with you before you left.

“Tonight was exquisite, you did well,” he doles out the praise, and you try to quell the blooming in your chest. In the six weeks working with Andy Barber to plan the charity event you’d just executed for his foundation you had seen that he wasn’t one to casually compliment, hard to impress. You had taken more and more satisfaction out of each meeting, email, or text exchange as you consulted and then presented him with options for the event when he had fewer and fewer notes, knowing you had cracked his taste and gained his approval. He’d been your toughest client to date, but by far one of the most rewarding as he had excellent taste.

“Nearly perfect,” he adds.

Your smile falters ever so slightly, and suddenly your chest floods with a chill. “Nearly perfect? I’m sorry, sir, what didn’t live up to your expectations?”

This was far from your first event, you had built an incredible portfolio over the years, and you knew you were finally ascending to be one of the best event coordinators on the eastern seaboard – you had received an email request from a goddamn Vanderbilt to plan a wedding for them in a year and a half that you were going to respond to and accept in the morning. You weren’t arrogant, but you’d worked damn hard and knew you were good.

“You.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “I – what?”

“Only one misstep tonight.”

Your brain flies back through the evening, reviewing every moment, raking through trying to determine what you could have possibly missed.

“I’m very particular about what belongs to me, and I cannot abide theft.”

Your jaw drops.

“Empty your bag.”

Now your whole body is buzzing with incredulity. You shake your head.

“I know what’s in there.”

You almost didn’t take this job when it landed in your lap. He was the reason you knew you should have said no. There were whispers about his reputation, his real businesses. But you took the initial consultation because the pitch was more money than you’d made over the last three years. Then when you’d met him, he’d been so normal, so nice, maybe a little charming, and up until this moment you had convinced yourself there was no way any of those rumors had been right.

But before you even put your hand in your bag, you knew you were wrong to have thought he wasn't all those awful things.

Not one, not two, but three Rolex watches nestled in the bottom of the main pocket. Watches you'd never seen - wouldn't even have known where to find them.

You scoop them out and drop them on his desk, eyes burning with tears. “Why?”

“Yes, why? I was already giving you a fat paycheck. What a shame when I had just given your name to the Vanderbilts’ social secretary for their son’s wedding a few days ago, I’ll have to reach out and let them know.”

“No,” you breathe.

“I’ll have to discreetly let everyone in my network know it’s better not to invite someone in their home with such light fingers.”

Your breath hitches and your hand flies to your mouth to stifle an almost sob, trying to hold back the onset of tears. “Andy, no, please.”

His smile softens. “There we are,” he coos, “you finally called me Andy like I’ve told you to so many times.”

He leans forward resting his arms on his desk.

“Now, if you go upstairs, be a good girl, put on what I left for you in my room, and wait for me, maybe I can make all of this little misunderstanding go away.”

His steel blue eyes are hard, they demand an answer.

You cock your chin up wishing you could say no, wishing you could even scowl at him, but aside from the heat and hurt in your eyes, you know you can’t do anything more without risking further ruin, so ultimately you let your chin drop and nod, resigned to the impossible power this man wields.

“Now we’re back on track for a perfect night, sweetheart. I’ll be up soon.”

You don’t know how long he makes you wait, using the promise of soon as another show of his power, but long enough that your knees hurt from sitting back on your heels in a submissive, kneeling position with your head lowered, hands folded in your lap, and back to the door as the card in the white box left for you had instructed.

Also in the box had been a set of exquisite black lace and silk balconette bra and cheeky underwear. That they fit you like a glove had been both humiliating and alluring.

Even though Andy was the reason you almost said no to the job, even though he was the humiliating reason you were in this position – extorted into a nearly naked state, no question of what was to come – he was also the reason you took the job.

Dread pooled in your stomach, but along with the dread and humiliation, there were rivulets of shameful desire.

You had taken the job for the money and for how quietly charming he had been. He had never outright flirted with you, but he always left you with the question of whether he was. You worked hard for him because it felt good to win his approval. He praised you and you had preened under his intense blue eyes every time. You had forced yourself to keep everything professional.

All for nothing since you were in the farthest position of professional now.

When you finally hear him enter the room, your sit up straight again.

He tsks and says, “Head down, sweetheart.”

Andy comes around to stand in front of you. You see his perfectly polished shoes, the perfectly tailored trousers. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. He runs his thumb over your lips, circling them.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

You do.

He leans closer, then spits in your mouth, and you blink in surprise, a surge of humiliation running through you, but his grip on your jaw is powerful, so you don’t move away.

“Close your mouth but don’t swallow.”

He moves back from you then, and he begins to silently undress. He had already taken off his jacket, but he doesn’t hurry as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, the buttons down his chest, and then shrugs it off his shoulders. He places it nicely on a plush armchair on the side of the room. Next he sits on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes and socks.

The way he doesn’t watch you but does all of this in your line of vision, knowing you have to watch, is another move meant to communicate who is in control of this situation. Still holding his saliva on your tongue is starting to become uncomfortable. Your instinct is to swallow, but you don’t know what disobedience may mean with Andy, so you fight the urge, not wanting to tempt any more of his darkness.

He stands and takes the shoes and socks to a large closet off to the side of the room, and when he returns, he stands directly in front of you again, takes your jaw in his hands again.

“Show me,” he says.

Your eyes watch his face you open your mouth, showing him the pool of saliva.

“Good fucking girl,” he murmurs. You hate the small bloom in your chest those words immediately invoke again. He spits into your mouth for a second time, then with a caress that is too tender he urges you to close your mouth. “Swallow.”

You do.

Andy unbuckles his belt, unbuttons the top of his fly, then unzips and pushes down the waist of his trousers with his briefs, and reveals his hard cock for you.

He’s big.

You had gotten yourself off to the thought of him a few of times late at night alone in your bed, most recently a few days ago, and you hated that you had since you were now here like this, forced on your knees in front of him.

Your core is pulsing with heat at the sight of him though – bigger than you had fantasized, and bigger than any man you’ve been with previously. You know he’ll fill you in a way that will ruin you for other men. You want and dread it.

“Take me in your mouth, sweetheart,” he commands.

Instead of forcing his cock into your mouth, this is more possessive, having you submit yourself to pleasing him of your own accord. You know every way he’s manipulating you.

“If I have to tell you one more time,” he trails off, leaving the end open for your imagination.

You plant one hand softly on his hip and wrap your other hand around his shaft, leaning forward to take him in your mouth. As you push forward, he groans. He won’t hold back when he’s pleased with you – he never has, he knows it affects you. His hands go to either side of your head. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, sucking him, bobbing up and down his length, and for a while he lets you control the speed and the depth, but his hands let you know he can and will control this when he wants to. After the first couple of minutes, he makes this clear when you push back to take a breath and wipe the mix of your spit and his pre-cum dripping out of your mouth and his hands firmly prevent you from moving off him. Instead, he pushes you down slowly – more slowly than you had been pumping – and doesn’t stop until your nose hits his lower abdomen. You try to push against his hips, and he pushes his hips forward with you still anchored on his dick. Your eyes well up.

“So pretty,” he says, “imagined you like this, but you’re more gorgeous than I thought you would be.”

Something in your chest melts. You wish he wouldn’t say things like that. It makes you weaker – weaker for him. He pulls back just an inch or two, then pushes his length into your throat again.

“That’s it, sweetheart, my perfect fucking girl.”

You whimper, and the tears spill over.

His right hand moves away from your face and around behind him. He’s quick, and when you can see his hand again, it’s to discover he’s taken his phone out of his back pocket. He takes photos of you, angling the phone a few different ways. Then he tosses the phone onto the chair where he’d laid his shirt.

Then he resumes his small, concentrated rutting, only easing out just enough to make the thrust back in worth it for him. As he does, he groans, swears, wipes tears from your cheeks, and the moment before it’s too much, he finally pulls you off him.

You fall forward, gasping for deep lungfuls of air, but he’s already putting a hand under your arm and hauling you up.

“Get on the bed,” he instructs, man handling you with surprising ease, doing most of the work your weak and aching legs can’t do to hoist you up onto his Alaskan king bed.

He’s immediately up as well and behind you, the last of his clothing stripped off. His fingers quickly undo the clasp of your bra and pull it off your shoulders and toss it away. He pushes you forward, toppling you down to the mattress. He slaps your ass, and you gasp and jerk. He brings his hand down on your round flesh again, with another sting, but the second one has you moan, and he lets out a satisfied, “Yes,” before giving you a third slap, the hardest, and you moan again, but this one more guttural, and you’d be mortified if you weren’t shocked over the way it translated to pleasure so quickly to your brain.

Then he yanks the lacy underwear roughly down and off your legs, tossing it away as well. He pushes between your legs behind you, splitting your legs open, and his fingers seek your cunt.

He hums in approval, “So wet for me. Ready for me.”

You huff and pant.

He leans over your back, pressing you down into the mattress. “Are you eager for me?”

“Andy,” you whine.

“Say it and I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to. You bury your face in the covers.

He slaps your ass again, and you yelp.

“Admit you want me to fuck you.”

Another slap.

Another.

“Yes,” you finally concede.

“To breed you.”

You gasp, but he’s already hauling you further up the bed, and he drapes himself over your back, arms caging you in on either side of your body. His legs push yours apart as he leans down to press kisses over your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck, along your spine. He uses one hand to guide the thick head of his cock to your leaking entrance. He doesn’t care to stretch you. “Take me in your cunt, sweetheart, it’s mine.”

The only mercy is that he slots himself in slowly.

You press your hands up against the headboard and concentrate on taking deep breaths, on trying to relax your walls completely, because he’s entering you, in you, filling you, unrelenting invasion and it’s pleasure and pain and too much and not enough because every moment of more fullness is exquisite and you can’t even think about holding back the sound he’s pushing out from your diaphragm, up your throat, and out of your mouth, because that’s how it feels as he's filling you.

Once’s he’s fully inside of you, he presses his mouth right next to your ear. “I’m going to fill this pussy with my seed.” He anchors one hand on your hips, then begins pull out, only so he can start thrusting back in. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.”

You’ve never had an orgasm only from vaginal penetration, but the way he fills you as he fucks you, and at this angle, making you almost forget to keep breathing, you wonder if this is how you’ll go, strung out as his cock punishes you with the pleasure, but then his hand works around beneath you and his fingers quickly find your swollen and aching clit. You cry out, and one of your hands reaches back to cling to him, fingers clutching into his hair. He nips at your neck, chuckling darkly.

“My pretty girl, my good girl, taking my cock so well, you close?”

An immediate, “Uh huh,” is all you can manage.

“Then let go,” he commands, pinching your clit harshly.

You see stars, and you cry out for him.

Hearing you scream his name and feeling you clench around him is all he needs, and he pumps his cum into you, saying more dirty, filthy, possessive things, but you don’t know what the words are, because you’re completely lost to coherency.

He sinks his full weight on top of you when he’s completely spent.

Both of you are silent while you come down, heartrates returning to normal.

You wait for him to say whatever he’s going to torment you with next, but he doesn’t speak.

After more long moments, he finally pushes up enough to turn you from your front to your back. He cups your jaw again and strokes his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitches at the intimate gesture in the aftermath.

“Aw, why are you crying now, sweetheart?”

No, you didn’t want more tears, and not these - the soft tears. You try to look away, but he forces your face back to look at him.

“I would have slept with you if you’d asked, Andy, why did you have to do it like this?”

“Because this is so much more than that, sweetheart. I didn’t want to just sleep with you, and I needed you to know from here on out that you’re mine. I own you. I’m very particular about what belongs to me. I didn’t want you to have any illusion that there’s a choice here.”

He brushes the tears off your cheek.

“I’ll have my men move your things here in the morning, and we’ll elope in a few weeks. I’m closing the deal on a resort in Lake Como, doesn’t that sound perfect? We’ll tie the knot and then spend our honeymoon there – we can stay all summer if you want.”

You hesitate.

“No one else is gonna take care of you like I do. Now I asked you, ‘doesn’t that sound perfect?’”

“Yes, Andy,” you whisper.

“Of course, it does.” He finally kisses you – and it’s dangerously soft. Warm lips engulfing yours, insistent, sucking your bottom lip between his. You whimper, and he licks his tongue into your mouth, lapping you up. He rolls over with you, putting him back on the mattress with you on his chest. He holds you pressed to him with one hand, the other hand securing your head so you can’t escape his kiss until he’s done kissing you.

It isn’t until you think you might pass out from how breathless you are that he finally breaks off the kiss. He shifts his pelvis up against you, his cock hardening again. “And I was serious about you carrying my child. But first you’ll ride my face until I’ve made you cry for a good reason, and then I’ll fill you up with more of my seed. You’re not leaving this bed the rest of the weekend.”

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ARE YOU OKAY? AM I? DO WE EVEN CARE IF WE'RE OKAY?

read: -> THE MORNING AFTER

#andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #soft dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #tw: dubcon #aspen wrote something

1K notes · View notes

weirdomellow · 10 days

Text

Omg this was so good 😭🥹🔥🥵

Yes, he is a pain in the ass but who doesn't want to be fingered on a private jet? 😌😌

Prepare For Takeoff

Title: Prepare For Takeoff Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, dubious existing engagement

Logistical Notes: Another piece early in the days of the I'm Your Man AU.

Author Note: I started this AU when I was at an airport, and my recent trip had me thinking of these two again, and it had me wishing I were Andy's to spoil.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

While you aren’t used to being chauffeured to every aspect of your life (nor did you want to get used to it, the driver and vehicle yet another element that Andy insisted on in the new life he inserted you into), you know a security checkpoint where your driver had to stop and speak to someone else is not part of the typical route back to the palatial Barber Estate. You sit up straighter in your seat, looking first to the men in the front, but neither of them give anything away, your bodyguard Shep’s face is the same stoic expression as ever, and your driver Mark only glances into the rear view mirror to meet your eyes briefly.

Your brows furrow and you look out the window. You can only see large white buildings on either side of the SUV, and the overwhelmingly industrial feel has you at a loss for guessing the where and why of your location.

That is until you reach the end of the building and the car pulls around the corner. Now you see these large white industrial walls make up the sides of a row of aircraft hangars. While your jaw doesn’t drop, your mouth opens slightly. The jaw dropping moments as a character in the life of Andy Barber are so frequent, but you are starting to control your reactions a bit more.

The SUV pulls up smoothly to the side of a private jet, sleek and black, the late afternoon sun shining off its metal sides. Mark stops the vehicle, and as Shep opens your door, you are not surprised to see you are stepping out exactly onto a long, blue carpet that leads from the SUV to the bottom of a set of white stairs. At the top of them, Andy emerges from the plane, nodding to you. You smooth down the front of your clothing and glare up at him.

“What is this?” You call up loudly.

“You know what it is.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away for the weekend. Now, don’t be difficult, sweetheart, you’re going to love this.”

You feel a sting in your eyes but quickly blink it away.

You hate this because you know he is right.

Yet again he will undoubtedly give you exactly what you want and go beyond what you could even imagine for it, but because he wants to, not because you want any of it.

That is the constant curse in this relationship.

Everything you want, but all your choices stolen from you before you can make them.

You concentrate on taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase, mustering the strength that you will need for this. You have to armor yourself against his charm and his cunning. Every moment with him is dangerous.

“I thought it was time to take you away, make you forget the everyday. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”

You blink, open your mouth, then shut it again. He is the source of the stress, but you don’t trust what would happen if you said that.

He smirks, then sweeps you into a kiss that immediately sends tingles all through your body, from where his lips press insistently against yours, tongue teasing into your mouth, to the hand he plants possessively onto you hip and the other on your back, pressing you flush against him, down to your toes, legs feeling unstable as he takes your breath away. You are helpless but to cling to his shoulders and kiss him back, because your traitorous body willingly surrenders to him, damn near craves him.

He finally lets you breathe again when you tap against his chest and turn your head, gasping for air.

He kisses your cheek, then your neck just beneath your ear.

Getting your breath back, you give a small huff. “So, what? I don’t even get to pack? You just have whatever I need for the flight and when we get wherever we’re going, I’ll just arrive to a closet full of new clothes and accessories?”

“Naturally.” You can feel his smirk against your skin for a moment before he bites at your delicate flesh.

“This is insane.” You push away from him and step through the open door of the jet.

“It’s not insane,” he says, stalking close behind you.

The interior of the plane is sleek, minimal, but the flavor of the furniture and decor evoke the same feeling as the common spaces of his estate with lush leather and dark wood.

The fact that there’s furniture…

“It’s not normal.”

Hand to your back, Andy ushers you further into the plane. “You’re never going to be subjected to normal again in your life.”

“But what if I liked normal?”

He sits on a leather loveseat and pulls you down immediately next to him, nearly in his lap. He counters, “You liked needing to get to the airport early, check your bags or haul them through security with your three-ounces-or-less limit on liquids, take off your shoes, and trek through the terminals to your gate?”

You sigh and look straight ahead.

He chuckles and beckons over a gentleman who offers a tray of drinks.

“Bourbon or champagne?”

“Thank you,” Andy says, and takes a glass of the dark bourbon.

“No, thank you,” you decline.

“The captain says we are clear for take off on your word, Mr. Barber.”

Andy nods. “Wheels up then. We’ll take dinner in ninety minutes. You can leave us until that point.”

“Call if you need anything, sir.”

You hear the click of a door as the man disappears. Andy takes a slow drink, then presses the glass to your lips, forcing you to take a sip before he sets the glass aside.

You feel the jet begin to move and then turn toward the runway.

“You deserve more than normal,” Andy says, eyes on you, returning to your conversation from moments before.

“Andy…” you hedge.

“I will whisk you away anywhere in the world. I’ll give you everything you want. You’re mine to spoil. You’re going to live a beautiful life with me.”

“Andy,” you start again, but unsure how to counter.

He growls your name and yanks you abruptly into his lap. He cuts any argument you were about to launch into by biting at your lower lip and grinding you down onto his hard bulge.

You whimper and throw your head back.

Andy assaults your bared neck with heated kisses. He knows he’ll have you a pliant mess for him to slake his lust in a matter of moments.

You know it, too.

And you know he’ll overwhelm you with pleasure of your own, never a selfish lover even though every other bit of him is selfish.

His fingers slip under the fabric covering your core without hesitation, and he strokes your labia, gathering more and more of your arousal as the plane picks up speed. Slow strokes back and forth, back and forth. The pad of his forefinger circles your clit and you bite back a whimper.

“Mmm, you know I love those noises you make.” He circles your bundle of nerves again, this time with his thumb, letting two of his fingers dip just slightly into your slick channel. “Give me what I want,” he coos, coaxing with another circle, and another, and you finally break, moaning openly for him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me know how good I make you feel.”

He pumps his fingers full into the knuckle now, and not like anyone else you’d ever been with intimately before. It’s only been a few weeks, but Andy has taken every opportunity to become a master of your body and coax and command pleasure out of every inch of you. He knows just how much pressure to apply when fucking you with his fingers, and he pushes into that spongy spot at the front of you walls insistently, repeatedly as the jet leaves the ground, making you cry out and shake on an abrupt orgasm.

You sink forward, hanging your head on his shoulder, but it’s only the first orgasm he plans to ply from your body on this flight. He draws your left hand to his mouth, and hums as he places a kiss first against the band of your engagement ring on your finger and then into your palm, before trailing his lips to your wrist. He eases you down to the floor, and you lay back and watch as he shucks off his pants above you before descending down to sheath himself inside you next, demanding more.

And as he fucks you there, then on another of the chairs, then takes you back to the sleeping quarters for yet more, you bend to his will and his demands and his lust, overcome with everything he is and everything he makes you feel, lost in the complexity of what he’s confined you into. His spoiled and ruined sweetheart.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #mafia au #chris evans characters #soft dark andy barber #I'm your man #aspen wrote something

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weirdomellow · 13 days

Note

Now this makes me think of your soft dark CEO Andy 🫠

But it's also easily Dom Andy with Birdie...

Cherie told Birdie of the time she blurted her true feelings to Master Ari when he had her caught in the spiderweb. At first Birdie thought it to be some kind of metaphor, but realized it's an actual thing.

So she asks Master Andy about it.

Being the caring mentor, Andy not only shows her the spiderweb, but gives her a full experience of it 😏

He ties her to the vertical web - made of ropes weaved in a sturdy frame - displaying her for open view. While the club is an open space it has nooks and ways to give members some privacy in scenes, which so far has been mercifully granted to Birdie. Until that moment.

Andy's thorough and takes long, delicious time to devour the sweet little birdie that got caught in his web 😏 Piece by piece. Hole by hole.

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weirdomellow · 14 days

Note

Ari + smut 19. “i mean, i got what i wanted, didn’t i?”

Bonus points for primal chase kink

under the springtime sun

pairing: prince!ari levinson x princess!female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, chase kink, light choking, outdoor sex, dirty talk, tiny bit of degradation, praise kink, nicknames (little mouse), teasing, reader is jealous and bratty, very fluffy ending

word count: 1,600ish

a/n: ok you can have some chase kink as a treat 🤭 plus some prince Ari and bratty princess reader 🤭 i hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

Your bare feet were nearly soundless on the soft grass and damp earth of the palace grounds as you sprinted through the gardens as fast as your legs could carry you. Giddy laughter bubbled up in your chest like rich champagne, but you forced it down, knowing you needed every breath if you were going to outrun the prince, Ari Levinson.

You couldn’t hear him anymore, but you didn’t dare chance a look over your shoulder. Instead, you ducked your head and ran through the arches of blooming flowers, the cool spring day keeping you from getting too warm as the sun shone down on the palace gardens.

When you broke through the hedge at the end of the path you’d followed, you spotted the stone stairs that would lead you up from the gardens and into the palace. You only needed to sprint across the final expanse, a field of white and pink flowers that, on any other day, you would’ve stopped to admire.

But you couldn’t stop. You had to get away from Prince Ari or he was sure to mete out punishment for the impertinent little trick you’d played. More laughter bubbled in your chest and you bit your lip, grinning as you thought about what you’d done.

All you’d done was steal Prince Ari’s crown.

While he’d been on a walk through the gardens with a princess—a princess who wasn’t you.

A princess that was said to be the choice of his father, the king, for him to marry.

And then, once you’d stolen Prince Ari’s crown and mocked him by putting it on, all you’d done was run. The crown hung heavy on your brow, but you didn’t dare try to take it off. If Prince Ari wanted it back so badly, he could take it himself.

It wasn’t like you’d forced the prince to chase you—though you’d known in your bones that he would. A giddy laugh burst forth from your lips as you remembered the stormy expression of the prince’s face just before you’d run off. But you forced yourself to remember your goal.

You were so close to getting away with your bratty behavior. All you had to do was make it to the stairs and urge your tired legs to climb them, then you’d slip into the palace and lose the prince in the maze of hallways. You could send one of your attendants to return the crown once you were safe in your chambers.

But you never made it to your rooms. You never even made it to the stairs.

Just as you were about to mount the stone steps, a blur of golden skin and soft brown hair tackled you into the field of white and pink flowers. The spring blooms gentled your fall as the beast of a man who’d tackled you rolled you onto your back beneath him.

All you could do was laugh breathlessly, even when you looked up and saw the handsome, thunderous face of Prince Ari. His fists were planted on either side of your head, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, his blue eyes dark and stormy as he stared down at you.

“You’re wearing my crown,” he growled, his voice more gruff snarling animal than prim and proper prince.

The sound of it Ari’s deep, rumbling voice had liquid heat pooling between your thighs, but you forced yourself to jut out your chin and give him a smirk.

“It looks good on me, doesn’t it, your highness?” you sassed, unable to quell the grin from spreading across your face.

But the prince didn’t seem to find as much humor in your words as you did. You only had a short moment to see the way his expression darkened before he was flipping you over onto your hands and knees. A little puff of air slipped past your lips in surprise, but the familiar position had your limbs loosening and your body relaxing beneath your prince.

Ari tore at your skirts until your ass was completely bare to the springtime sun, the feral hunger of his greedy hands only making you wetter for him. The prince’s fingers left your body for only a minute as he pawed his breeches open and pulled out his dick. The weeping tip of Ari’s cock landed heavy on your plush ass and you moaned, arching your back and presenting yourself to your prince.

“Are you happy now, little mouse?” Ari seethed, curling his broad body over your back. He braced himself with one hand next to your head while the other notched his cock at the entrance of your weeping hole. “You played the role of the impertinent brat, making me chase you across the grounds,” Ari growled while he teased your tight cunt with the head of his dick, dragging it through your sopping wet folds. “Now you’ll take me and be quiet about it so no one hears what a filthy little slut you are for your prince’s cock.”

Your laughter was a wild, breathy thing, sounding half crazed even to your own ears. Still, you couldn’t stop yourself from further taunting the prince. “I am happy, your highness,” you mouthed off, turning your head enough that Ari could see your grin over your shoulder. You caught his eye before saying, “I mean, I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

With a feral snarl, Ari buried his cock in your tight cunt, his hand shooting out to wrap around your mouth and stifle your sharp cry. He chuckled when the grin was wiped from your face and replaced with an expression of bliss, but you were too wrapped up in the feeling of him to care about his mocking laugh. It was exquisite, the stinging, aching stretch of Ari’s cock invading your body.

“Is this what you wanted, little mouse?” he growled, setting a brutal pace as he fucked you, rutting into you like he was claiming your body as much as any animal claims its mate. With every thrust, he forced you nearer and nearer to the edge of a world-shattering release. “You wanted me to take you like a beast in the gardens, where anyone might find us?”

You shook your head, knocking his hand free from your mouth. “I wanted you, your highness,” you confessed, pleasure unraveling your being. The feeling of your prince’s cock sinking inside your tight hole again and again loosened your tongue and made you admit the truth. “I wanted you to be with me today—not another princess!”

Ari wrapped his hand around your throat, holding you pinned beneath his large body while he spoke in your ear. “You’re an insufferable girl,” he growled, his voice hardly louder than the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass. “Bratty and half-feral, provoking me into fucking you under the springtime sun.”

In the blink of an eye, you were rolled from your hands and knees onto your back. You blinked up into the handsome face of your prince, your mind spinning as you tried to catch up with his words and his actions. His golden brown hair was limned in sunlight, and there was earnest affection shining in his sky blue eyes.

“And yet,” he went on, fondness seeping into his rumbling tone as he sank back inside you. His hips rolled in a sensual rhythm that had heat pouring through your veins. “I’ve never met anyone more beautiful,” he said, his hand that had been around your throat cupping your jaw, his thumb tracing your lips while he stared down at you. “You’re lovelier than these flowers we’re ruining, little mouse,” he murmured before ducking down and capturing your lips in a kiss that stole your breath.

It was achingly tender, the way Ari kissed you, like you were something precious—something he never wanted to let go. You clung to him and kissed him back, putting all your emotion into the slide of your lips against his. When he pulled away to allow you to breathe, Ari pressed his forehead to yours, knocking the crown on your brow askew.

“You do look good in my crown, princess,” he murmured, using your formal title for once. Emotion made his tone gruff and your heart lept into your throat with anticipation. “And I think I’d like you to wear it permanently.”

“Ari,” you gasped, stilling. You pushed on his shoulders so you could get a good look at your prince, your lips forming a question you already knew the answer to. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he vowed, nothing but honesty in his tone. “I’ll tell my father today that I’ve decided who to take as my wife—if you’ll have me.” His smile was a little tentative then, and you loved him all the more for it. You didn’t want to make him wait for your answer.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried, grabbing his face and pulling him to you for a fierce kiss. It was messy and a little wild, but it was perfect.

Ari rolled his hips again and you wrapped your legs around him, your prince taking you right there in the flowers of his palace’s garden, the springtime sun the only witness of your love.

He brought you to the edge of pleasure and sent you tumbling over into an abyss of ecstacy, his crown on your head while you came on his cock. His release was spurred by yours, and your prince emptied himself deep in your body to the sight of your face twisted with pleasure he’d given you.

Then, when you’d both come down from your releases, Ari gathered you up in his arms and took you back to his chambers. He sent word to his father before he locked you away with him for the remainder of the day and the night, celebrating your engagement together in the prince’s bed.

The formal announcement of the engagement of the prince and his soon-to-be princess could wait. Ari had a lesson to teach his little mouse: don’t run from your prince.

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weirdomellow · 15 days

Text

Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza

@labella420 had the amazing idea to host an event to try to boost engagement, revive our community, and have some fun while we’re at it. If you’re like us, you probably miss “the good ole days” or perhaps you’re feeling disappointed by the lack of engagement, so! Here’s your chance to join in on some shameless hoe revelry and have some fun with your fellow CE hoes 🤗

And! This extravaganza isn’t just for writers, it’s for readers, too!

Keep reading to find out how we can all cum together (lollll) and indulge in some shenanigans while breathing some life back into our beloved CE fandom. You may even get a custom fic written just for you out of it 😘

EXTRAVAGANZA DETAILS

When: April 28 - May 4

How to Participate:

👉🏻 Writers: Write and post a fic (or fics!) about any Chris Evans character using one (or more!) of the prompts below.

👉🏻Readers: Engage with your favorite writers via reblogs or asks.

Your Participation = An Entry Into Our Cum Together 2024 Raffle

Writers, for each fic you post for the extravaganza, you will earn one entry into our raffle. Be sure to use the tag #cum together 2024 raffle entry the first time you post your fic(s), as well as for any asks you receive from readers engaging with you for the event, so we can record all participation.

Readers, each time you engage with a writer via a reblog or ask, you will earn one entry into our raffle. For your reblogs, be sure to use the tag #cum together 2024 raffle entry so that we can record your participation. For your asks to writers, be sure to mention the event so we know it’s an entry for the challenge. We would also suggest reblogging any writer ask replies to your asks with the entry tag as well.

At the end of the extravaganza, Bella and I will randomly select 2 raffle winners who will get to request a custom CE fic written by one of us 🥳

THE MORE YOU PARTICIPATE AND ENGAGE, THE MORE ENTRIES YOU EARN TO GET YOUR CUSTOM STORY! (ALSO THE HAPPIER YOU’LL MAKE YOUR FELLOW HOES AND THE MORE FUN YOU’LL HAVE!)

Rules for Fic Entries:

500 word minimum, no max! (Please put your story under a cut after 150 words.)

Original works only. If your story is part of a series, it must be able to be read as a standalone piece.

Please tag me @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 when posting so that we can reblog as many fics as possible and record your raffle entries. (You don’t need to follow us to join in!)

Include the tag #cum together 2024 raffle entry on the original post of your fic (not on reblogs or reblog replies, please.)

Any genre accepted! Can be fluff, angst, comedy, AU, dark, whatever you want.

Please stick to fictional CE characters only, no RPF.

Reader insert stories are preferred vs OCs. LGBTQ+, BIPOC, & interracial stories are welcome and encouraged!

No toilet stuff, no necrophilia, no snuff, or bestiality. Non-con and dub-con must fall within commonly posted dark fics.

Please include warnings as needed for smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, non-con, dub-con, dark fic, trigger warnings, 18+, etc.

Rules for Reader Engagement Entries:

75-word minimum for your engagement posts/asks - no blank reblogs or one liner “reblogs” allowed. Show your favorite authors some love and appreciation for their hard work providing free content that you enjoy. If you struggle to come up with what to say, check out this post for ideas.

Reader engagement entries must be one of the following 1) a reblog of an author’s work or masterlist, or 2) a reblog of an author’s reply to an event ask you submitted to them.

Include the tag #cum together 2024 raffle entry on any of your reblogs or writer ask reply reblogs.

Please stick to fictional CE character works only.

Odds & Ends:

Each writer can submit a maximum of 3 stories.

There is no limit on reader engagement entries - we want you to participate and boost engagement!

Writers do not need to claim or request a prompt.

Smut writers and characters must be 18+.

Writers can also participate as readers for this challenge, and vice versa. So basically anyone can have writer and reader entries.

We reserve the right to not reblog any post.

STORY PROMPTS

CUM TOGETHER PROMPTS:

Characters A + B cum together at the same time

Meeting your long distance partner in person for the first time

“Tell me your favorite way to cum so I can satisfy you the way you deserve.”

Pining + running into each other after a long time apart + frantic kisses

Pouncing on your partner as soon as they arrive home from a trip away

“My favorite thing in the world is being here with you.”

Showing up at your love’s home in the middle of the night because you need to be with them

Soulmates meeting for the first time

“Admit it, you didn’t really know true happiness until you met me.”

Character A can’t cum until Character B does

MULTI-PROMPT PROMPTS:

Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”

“Show me.” + Frightened + Cabin in the woods

Yellow + Feel like you’re being watched + “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Coercion + Multiple CE babes + “Aw, don’t cry, honey, we promise we’ll be good to you if you’re good to us.”

Proposal + Happy tears + “Nailed it.”

Meetcute + embarrassed + “My hero.”

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

“Do you even know how to be nice? I bet you can’t say one nice thing about me.”

“I swear to God, if you make me come in there, you’re gonna regret it.”

“How about a little wager?”

“If you correctly guess the color of my panties, I’ll let you take them off me.”

“Bet I can make you cum first.”

“You are such a fucking menace.”

KINK PROMPTS:

Breeding

Competency

Oral sex

Innocence

Soft!dom

Primal play

Free use

Somnophilia

Overstimulation

Praise

TROPE & AU PROMPTS:

A/B/O

Only one bed

Mob AU

Two idiots in love

The one that (almost) got away

Biker AU

Friends to lovers

Basement wife (or husband!) AU

CE!babe is a cam!boy

Seeking comfort

CEO AU

Enemies to lovers

Tagging some lovelies who may be interested or want to signal boost the event, no pressure though! ❤️

@yenzys-lucky-charm-library @krirebr @thezombieprostitute @paperweight91 @eulalielatibule @anika-ann @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @jamneuromain @our-marvel-universe @precious1610 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @alicedopey @biteofcherry @buckets-and-trees @avintagekiss24 @before-we-get-started @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @saiyanprincessswanie @sagechanoafterdark @gifsbysimplysonia @golden-ariess @ghotifishreads @giorno-plays-piano @hansensgirl @lilacevans @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @lauratang @needlereads @nowandajenn @rodrikstark @worksby-d @universitypenguin @vonalyn @jtargaryen18 @chase-your-dreams-away @secretswiftymarvelfan @crazyunsexycool @jesevans @emerald-writes @targaryenvampireslayer @foxgloveprincess @nekoannie-chan @americasass81 @sgtnightwolfinthetardis @holacia3 @gracet93 @astheskycries

(Sorry if I forgot anyone, I'm sooo bad at remembering in the moment/tagging lolol.)

P.S. Amazing, stunning, beautiful, panty ruining banner made by the supremely talented @labella420 😍

#sharing is caring

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