I'm On This And I'm Not Sure If I Like It

This one’s for the girls.

I just had an absurd conversation.

Feel free to repost to keep away creeps.

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Dark times all around but there are still people out there who love you

Do not hurt yourself, do not hurt others, get help, talk to someone, anyone. Humanity has survived before and we can do it now if we all just support each other. My country and my people let me down and endangered my life but there’s nothing I or anyone else can do about that so let’s try to spread the love that is so clearly lacking.

Sweet Amber! I need your thots…

Does Honey like to show her appreciation for Curtis by dropping to her knees?

I just want that man to sucked until he’s within an inch of his life- like he’s not doing anything for the rest of the day- honey sucked him so good 😮‍💨

My love, of course, Honey will drop to her knees for that man! It is one of her favorite services to do for Curtis honestly. It is one of those things that our girl is confident in doing. That man deserves to be sucked within an inch of his life, leaving him gasping for breath and looking ruined because of how good it was. He isn't going anywhere for the rest of the day.

One Way To Say Goodbye

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

18+ Only Blog! It's all Curtis receiving Oral and feelings.

You stretched in his bed with an appreciative moan, even at the early hour. The bed was empty, Curtis already having showered and you could hear him downstairs, meaning he hadn't yet left for work. Old houses like his, it was impossible not to make some kind of noise. But that wasn't what woke you.

No, it was that feeling. Completely fucking satisfied. Curtis had spent half the night worshipping you, even though you assured him that you two could just go to sleep, knowing that although you had a day off, he most certainly didn't. He wouldn't hear of it though.

"Honey, you expect me to ignore you?" He moved his way up from the end of the bed like a predator, stalking over you with very attentive blue eyes lifted towards you while he worked his shirt you were wearing up your body slowly. He took his time with his fingertips, grazing lightly against your skin, making sure not to avoid any stretch marks but when he found those, his head dipped to track the mark with his tongue.

You resisted the urge to push him away from your imperfections, but your breathing got heavier, your body responding with a keen awareness of what Curtis was doing. Your thighs opened slightly without need from him to ease them apart. "Deny myself the chance to be with you, fill this sweet little pussy?" When has anyone ever called you little?

How were you supposed to walk after he finished with you last night? Scooping you into his chest and murmuring soft praises while you still were trying to recover from him? You took a tentative stretch, pushing up to sit on the edge of the bed and grab at his shirt discarded on the floor. You shrugged into the stretched-out ancient tee and headed for the kitchen to at least give him a proper goodbye.

Your version of one.

You found him at the sink, filling his water bottles when he glanced over his shoulder at you. There was still a heated spark, his gaze flowing up and down you like he was checking you out while also checking you out. "I love it when you wear my clothes Pretty Girl. But why are you awake? You should be sleeping in." His brow furrowed at you while he flicked the water back off and set aside his bottle to face you.

"I should be asleep still, you wore me out last night." You bit your lip suggestively while a big grin changed his features from slightly concerned to proud of himself. "Couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye."

You approached him while he shrugged, a bit of red flaring up the side of his neck and mottling his ear tips at your praise. "A man has to be crazy to pass up being with you." You smiled as you reached him, your plan coming all together as you swiftly dropped to your knees, earning you a surprised grunt from Curtis while your face was level right with his crotch. "Honey, you don't-"

"I don't have to do anything, I know." You worked your hands up muscled thighs, even through the jean fabric you could feel him tensing. Your head tilted up to look at him while your fingers worked his belt open, the leather flopping to the side and you snapped his button open while dragging the zipper down. "But I want to... Before you gotta leave for the day, let me just..." You mimicked the way his tongue traced you, inching along the very prominent vein trailing down his belly to under his boxers.

"Fucking hell." He grunted out, clearly still caught by surprise but he grabbed at his jacket lazily stretched on the counter to hand down to you. "Under your knees with his Pretty Girl."

You obliged, although bruised knees weren't about to deter you. Your nose trailed up the bulge in his boxers while fingers curled into the band and worked them down for his cock to bounce in front of your face, smacking a bit in your face till your hands wrapped around him and worked your fingertips up and down his length.

Curtis hissed at the contact, his head tipping back with a bobbing adams apple. His fingers gripped his counter edge, for now, restraining himself from grabbing your hair, for now. You knew it wouldn't last, his fingers would tangle into your strands and take over, giving you that satisfaction knowing he couldn't resist anymore of your teasing.

"You know how you love-" Your tongue wetting your lips before tracing him, pussy achingly familiar with the feel of his throbbing vein on your tongue, the masculine scent of him when your nose brushed against the patch of hair and the distinct salty taste that you would admit you were addicted to. "-worshipping me? Making me cum so hard that I just need to be taken care of while recovering?"

You pressed a kiss against the warm skin of his pelvis, your hands still jerking him but never bringing him further than that yet. ""You make me feel loved and taken cared of." Another flushing kiss against his tip now, your lips spreading a bit around him before glancing up at him, his gaze now following you intently, jaw clenched to keep whatever he was going to say inside for now. "You make me feel seen."

You didn't want him to have a chance to respond, your mouth spreading around him and swallowing him down, with some struggle from his size, but with watering eyes and a slight gag, you took him and he gave a sharp loud yell, almost a roar of your name. His hands found their purchase against your scalp, holding onto you while you pulled back to claim air and spit on him, working on swallowing him again.

"Fuck Y/N! Fuck, just swallowing me without working me in." He stuttered while you bobbed on him, relishing in the tone of disbelief. You loved doing this, his taste filled your mouth, making you drool while trying to get all of him. Silken and hard as he bruised your throat, your moans humming around him while squeezing. "Just keep taking it, Pretty Girl." He demanded, shoving your head back on him, your face slapping against his balls. Your hands grabbed his hairy taunt thighs to steady yourself from the motion.

Your scalp burned as he pulled you away, his hand circling his cock as he jerked his hand up and down the length. "You're so fucking perfect for me, ruined at my feet, right?" You let a hand drop from his thigh, dipping between your thighs and trailing your folds. When you felt your slick coat them, you showed him. Glinting slick catching the bit of light in his kitchen, you managed to whisper out.

"It's where I want to be." Then you took him back into your mouth, your tongue fluttering around him and deep moans escaped you while you took him. Later you might be sore, and have a hard time talking, but right now all that was worth it to witness the shudder rolling through Curtis, his absolute need to finish, and you wanted it. You wanted to give that to him.

When he came, it was quick. A hoarse warning and then you were feeling him shoot his spend in you, making you swallow with difficulty but there was a satisfying groan above you and his touch gentle, cradling your face while you licked him clean, your eyes darting up to witness your work.

Chest heaving and a serene satisfying look had eased his sharp dark features for now. Long lashes swept under his closed eyes for a moment, till they snapped open, dark in a way that made you squeak his name, you weren't nearly ready to be hauled to a stand, your legs shaky underneath you while he held you up against him, his mouth claiming yours with demand. You gave in, a moan escaping while your tongue slipped against his and your hands curled into his work shirt to steady yourself. When you had to pull away for air, gasping deeply, you smiled in between your breaths. "That good huh?"

Curtis half barked a laugh. "Honey, you really are perfect for me." In another move you weren't expecting, he hauled you over his massive shoulder, leaving you swinging down his back, crying out his name. "Curtis! What are you doing?"

Heavy boots thumped out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. "Taking you back to bed." He exclaimed as he started climbing up, carrying you like you weighed nothing although you knew better. Your hands clutched at his back, keeping yourself steady as you watched the downstairs start to disappear.

"What about work?" The hallway rug was almost dizzying, the way it was moving so swiftly.

"Honey, spending the day with you is far more important than fixing trains." Curtis was gentler as he deposited you on the bed, still messed up from their fun last night. He reached over his shoulder to grasp at his shirt and pull it off over his head.

"What about the guys?" You squirmed up the bed, giving him room to get in. He mimicked his movements from last night, stalking towards you across the mattress.

"They owe me for covering for them both." He informed you. "Now Pretty Girl, you gonna spread those thighs for me? Or am I going to have to do it for you?" His hands were warm and calloused against your thick thighs, squeezing enough to show how badly he wanted to get in between them.

You let them fall open, just for him.

Usually not a fan of manipulation but damn Andy can do everything he wants to me

Kinktober Day 10: Fingering w/Andy Barber

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female!Reader Word Count: 3,122 Summary: In the aftermath of the Barber family tragedy, you were just trying to help out, make Andy’s life a little easier, but that’s not what he wanted from you, not at all. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Dub con. Soft!Dark!Andy Barber. Smut. Defending Jacob book spoilers. 18+

A/N: Sorry yer girl’s a little late with today’s filth. Hopefully it’s worth it. I think it’s about time I dipped my toes into the world of soft!dark!Andy, no? And liiike he can dip whatever he wants into me, ja feel?! 👀🥴

It started with a text message.

After months of guilt had weighed on you heavily.

Because you had been Laurie Barber’s intern turned assistant for years before everything went to shit.

With her warm and caring nature, she had this way of making you feel more like a friend, sometimes like family, and there was a time when you were constantly in the orbit of the picture perfect Barber family.

And then it had all gone so terribly wrong.

Continuar a ler

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(Source)

The Half Hour S05E09 – Emily Heller

The "BECAUSE SEX WITH ANDY" defines me way too much

But omg

What... happened?! She was fierce, and then scared, and then horny, and then soft and horny and I was here like.... I'm also soft and horny I want a Andy for myself to?!

I've been a good girl where's my blackmail?

Kinktober Prompt 18: Blackmail w/Andy Barber

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader Word Count: 7,651 (WHAT THE FUCK???) Summary: You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Dub con. Blackmail. Mention of minor character death. Hand job. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected sex. Soft!dark Andy Barber. AU. Dark fic. 18+

A/N: Hellooo, my pretties! So this fic is based on a dream I had a few of months ago. It was originally about mob!Steve, but the more I mulled over this idea and hoed with @angrythingstarlight​ the more I was like fuck, I need to write me some mob!Andy! Also also, we’re playing with soft!dark here, and I will always and forever credit @giorno-plays-piano​ for that concept living rent free in my brain 🥴🥴 Enjoy! I love you! Also I can’t believe I’m still writing Kinktober fics in January. Maybe I’ll just draw it out till Kinktober 2021 at this point 👀

P.S. Y/F/N = Your father’s name

It was only a few days after you buried your father when you woke to the sound of gunshots in your family manor.

You blinked into the darkness of your room, listening so hard–so intently–that the silence was deafening.

Then the sound of raised voices from downstairs rose up. Your mother’s anguished cry. Your younger brother’s frightened shouts. Gruff male voices that you didn’t recognize.

You were moving before your brain caught up with your body, the satin of your short sleep dress pulling against your thighs as you slid from bed.

You were careful as you slipped from your room, knowing the converted attic, and the back stairway that led down into the pantry hall behind the kitchen, could be noisy and draw attention, which was the last thing you wanted.

Especially since you didn’t know what you were walking into.

Continuar a ler

It was the first time my shrieking drew someone closer to me. I saw it in the corner of the mirror. A shuffling amongst the shower curtains, grey pyjamas it looked like. They reminded me of something horrible. Black hair, fair skin. A young boy. It was like the mirror wanted to stab my eyes with the worst memories.

Except, I didn’t have eyes.

If my shrieking wasn’t going to do it, I thought my visage would. I turned slowly, revealing each rip, tear, cut, and pustule on my pallid skin. My fingers would look especially long, like the claws of some horrid roc. Their nails would be long and sharp enough to break flesh to the bone. And my teeth—when I flash my smile, my teeth would do all the talking.

But the boy had little reaction other than a slight shaking of his arms and legs. His eyes—oh what eyes he had—stared wide open at me. He was frozen, as if he had been trapped under an ice-skinned lake. His parents had chosen the wrong house to move into.

I began laughing. There was nothing funny. But I laughed, because laughter is a weapon—it’s a devastating lance that strikes straight into the gullet. Your breath escapes, you stare at the teeth and the creases on the face, and the deepened eyebrows, and the eyeless sockets of a skull with a dead woman’s flesh.

His eyes settled, and his arms and legs stopped shaking. He shoved his hands into his pyjama’s pockets.

I reached out my hand, and the boy did not so much as flinch when I touched my cold, clammy hands to his cheek. Instead, he raised his own hand and touched mine. He closed his eyes, and he let me run my hands over his head, over and through his hair, rubbing his eyebrows, feeling his tiny little ears.

“It’s not you, is it?” I asked. My first words in eighty years.

The boy opened his eyes, felt the scales and cuts on my arm, all the horrible marks of a thing too dead to be beautiful. He came closer, closer than any living thing ever had.

Then, for the first time since I died, I felt warmth. It was in the chest, or what should be the chest, if it wasn’t cleft in half to reveal rotten and diseased insides.

The boy lay his head against my chest and wrapped his arms around me.

“It can’t be you,” I said. “How could they let you come back? How could they make you come back? After all that they did to you?”

“I came back on my own,” the boy said. His voice echoed through my corpse.

“Why would you?” I asked. “Don’t you know what they did to you?”

“I know,” the boy said. “And I also know what you did for me, when no one else would.”

Another kind of warmth—this time on my face, sliding and streaming down my eye sockets, wetting my cheeks.

“You shouldn’t have come,” I said. My voice was breaking. “You don’t want to end up like me.”

The boy hugged me tighter. “I would rather be you than anyone else.”