Restraint - Santiago Garcia x f!Reader
Pairing: Santi x f!Reader (this is a one-shot, but you can read it as the same couple in What's The Magic Word? if you'd like!)
Summary: Santi told you to be on your best behavior. You were not. Now heâs going to teach you to behave.
Word count: 4.6k
Rating: Explicit, 18+, MDNI!
Tags: PWP, course language, fingering, masturbation, unprotected P in V sex (please wrap it up!), semi-public sex, Santi only lets you have the tip, brat!Reader, brat-tamer!Santi, dom/sub dynamics, name-calling but theyâre both into it, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, rough sex, hair pulling, one (1) bite, creampie (because when do I not have this in my fics lol), Santi talks you through it, almost getting caught, light exhibitionism and humiliation kink if you squint, bodily fluids, Spanish nicknames, established relationship; Reader is described as being able-bodied, wearing high heels, having biologically female anatomy and hair long enough to be put into a ponytail and pulled, but is otherwise undescribed (hair color/texture, eye color, skin color, build, weight, etc). Title graphic is only for vibes and not representative of Reader's appearance; Reader is you, boo!
a/n: LOOK. This all started because @for-a-longlongtime couldnât stop being horny on main about those Oscar photos from the Venice Film Fest last year, so I had to indulge her (aka she will not stop asking when Iâm gonna finish writing this). Santi is always a menace, and this fic is proof of that. (Bonus points if you can catch hints of Oscarâs Beirut reading that I definitely slipped in here because it is etched into the recesses of my brain forever. If you donât know what Iâm talking about: youâre welcome!)
Unbetaâd, we do it raw like Santi is going to in this fic lol
Banners and divider graphics by @saradika-graphics
MASTERLIST
âBehave.â
It was Santiâs only request this evening. Already uncomfortable with the black tie dress code but sucking it up since it was his best friend Will who invited him, your boyfriend was on edge. This gala dinner to benefit the foundation Will worked for was not on Santiâs list of favorite ways to spend a Saturday night, and all week heâd been surly in anticipation.Â
Santi smoothes the lapels of his jacket, then adjusts the collar of the silken shirt underneath. âI fucking hate suits,â he grouses. âNot enough range of motion.â
You nearly snort in amusement. âWhat are you planning to do, conduct a raid while youâre at dinner?â Rolling your eyes, you continue applying your makeup. âAnd itâs a tux, not a suit.â
A heavy sigh leaves Santiâs plush lips. âWorse. Canât believe you talked me into this.â
Your mirth grows with the smirk on your mouth. âIncredible what youâll agree to do when Iâve got my lips wrapped around your dick.â
Santi groans a bit, eyes skyward as if a higher power is specifically torturing him for his transgressions. âBehave,â he bites out. âThatâs all Iâm asking of you.â
Pearly white teeth show as your smile turns feline. âOr what? You gonna make me?â
Santiâs eyes flash in warning. âFuck around and find out, bebita.â
Oh, you would definitely be finding out.
You absolutely did not behave. And you are fucking around and finding out.
Away from the commotion of the gala, in the far wing of the glitzy hotel, Santi has you bent over the back of a plush couch in the lounge area of the spacious womenâs bathroom. Your knees are cushioned by green velvet while he stands behind you: right hand gathering your hair into a loose ponytail, left fingers gripping onto your corresponding hip, his slacks open and unzipped but his outfit otherwise undisturbed.
You, on the other hand, are an absolute mess. Lipstick is smeared past your lipline, your lips plump and red from Santi face-fucking you earlier, and your expensive chiffon dress is hiked up past your hips. Your panties lay in a ripped pile on the floor, while your tits spill out of the front of your bodice, dangling tantalizingly.Â
âYou want it?â Santi teases, the head of his cock slipping around your slick entrance, lighting your nerves on fire.
âYes,â you moan unabashedly, hips grinding backwards. âNeed to feel you.â
The hand on your hip tightens. His tip disappears from you, its touch a phantom memory. The whine that escapes your throat is, frankly, pathetic.
âNuh, uh, baby,â Santi chides, smacking your ass in the process. A desperate moan rattles your throat as your head tips back, spine arching sensually.
âJust fuck me, Santi,â you beg fruitlessly. You know he wonât give up that easily, but youâre so worked up that youâll try it anyway.
âNot when you canât listen to simple orders,â he rumbles. As he predicted, you refused to heed his warning, pulling every trick out of your bag to get the blood rushing from his head to his⊠other head. Rubbing your ass against his crotch as you passed him; trailing a hand down his back to the base of his spine; flashing him a peek at your lace panties surreptitiously; running a finger teasingly down his increasingly engorged dick under the table - you did this all knowing full well there would be repercussions. A muscle feathered in his jaw every time you taunted him. His hands clenched into fists in his pockets. You could tell you were in deep trouble with him.
You wanted to play with fire tonight, though. That was one of the reasons Santi loved you so much.
âYou fucking liked it, though. Donât lie to me,â you respond. You lean forward and open your legs further, slipping a hand between your thighs to spread your entrance wide open invitingly, and his reactionary groan has a tinge of a growl to it.Â
âReally need it that bad?â he asks. âYouâre going to have to work for it.â Santiâs thick tip slips around your folds again, slicked up by your desperation. You whimper, pushing your hips back to pop it snugly inside of your heat.
A hum from deep in his chest vibrates the air around you. âIâm not moving my cock an inch. You wanna come so bad, you gotta do it yourself.âÂ
Your head whips to him (as much as it can with him holding your hair like this). âAre you fucking kidding me?â you hiss, annoyance flashing in your eyes. His face is all hard edges and stoicism, but you see that playful glint in his gaze. Heâs toying with you like a cat with a mouse.Â
Fine, you think. Two can play this game.
Leaning forward a bit, you start to push your hips backwards, until you feel Santiâs free hand stop the progression of your ass. âWhat the fuck, Santiago?!â
âNaughty, naughty,â he croons, âyou didnât let me finish. You can only use the tip.â
You growl in frustration, manicured nails clawing into the sofaâs upholstery. âHow the fuck am I going to get off like that?â
âYouâll find a way,â Santi says nonchalantly. You roll your eyes. âBest get to it then, bebita. Or I can just leave you here high and dry.â
Head spinning and needing release, you start circling your hips. Santiâs tip is big enough to stretch your walls nicely, so the pressure starts to light up your nerve endings. His hand pushes against you when your motions get too far up his shaft, and you settle into a rolling rhythm, little moans dropping from your kiss-swollen lips.
âDoes that feel good?â Santi asks rhetorically, and you nod your head, tilting your hips a bit until the angle hits something delicious inside of you. A high-pitched whine escapes your throat.
âThatâs it,â he encourages. âCan feel you getting tight.â His warm hand snakes forward, finger swiping up some of your slick before circling your clit softly. Your legs twitch, another moan ricocheting around the space.
âFuck, Santi,â you pant. He rubs harder, faster, and you feel your release coiling in your muscles. âOh fuck, Iâm gonna ââ
Before you can get out the words, his finger leaves your nub and he pulls his hips backwards, leaving you empty.
âWhat the FUCK, Santi!â you nearly scream at him. âI was almost ââ
Everything next happens so fast.
Santiâs large, warm hand grips your face and covers your mouth. âI have had enough of your shit attitude, baby,â he growls. His other hand pushes on your back to bend you over further, and then he swiftly fills you in one devastating stroke.
You cry out against his palm. You can feel him everywhere, your nerve endings singing loudly, that thick tip of his buried so deeply that heâs pushing right up against your cervix. Santi begins grinding his length into you, never pulling back more than a fraction before sinking in again, keeping that immobilizing pressure up.Â
âCanât do the one thing I asked you to do tonight, canât say anything nice, just complaining over and over. Such a brat,â he chastises while his hips press into you.Â
Santi leans forward and lays his body over yours. His lips brush the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to nearly a rumble. âI donât wanna hear another word from your mouth for now unless itâs my fucking name.â The last two words are punctuated by upward snaps of his hips, making you shriek into his hand yet again. He holds himself as deep as he can, massaging every inch of your cunt, the pleasure building. But your rebellious streak rears its ugly head, and you do probably the worst thing you have the option of doing at that moment.
You bite his palm.
A shocked sound followed by a hiss leaves his lips. You bring your chest back up a bit, and petty rage fills your veins. âMaybe if you did a better job, I wouldnât have to complain so much.â
Itâs silent for a moment, just the two of you breathing heavily, and then the man actually has the gall to laugh at you. Santi makes a sucking sound with his tongue against the back of his teeth.Â
âWrong move.âÂ
Suddenly, your torn panties are being shoved in your mouth, and his hand is back over it. His other hand grabs both of your wrists, pinning them behind you at the base of your spine. He sheathes himself in you once again, the edge of a moan barely bit back in his throat. âIf Iâm so bad at it, then why is this pretty little pussy drenched, huh? Such a slut that youâre just dripping all the time?â He pulls out then feeds you just his cockhead, and the hand over your mouth moves back to the apex of your thighs. âYouâre only gonna get to come when you apologize for your behavior.â
Whines muffled by the lace in your mouth can barely be heard as Santi massages the front wall of your cunt with his tip. He slicks up the pads of his fingers with your wetness, then starts circling your clit once again. This is not the first time heâs employed this sort of tactic with you; itâs so fun to be a brat with him and see what sort of pleasure he doles out with his punishment.
Unfortunately, you didnât realize that all the teasing you did tonight also affected you â right now, all you can think about is how badly you want to come, and it pisses you off how fast Santi got you there.
âAll you have to do is say youâre sorry, baby,â Santi sings in your ear.
Your stubborn streak flares up, though itâs tempered by your release starting to rise again. âFuck you,â you mutter into the fabric. Retribution is swift: Santi pulls himself out of you, stops touching your clit, and spanks you sharply right on your pussy. Your head rears back briefly, your cry muffled.Â
âYouâre really just making it harder for yourself,â Santi tuts, then bends down to blow air over your sensitive folds. A shamefully whiny moan escapes your stuffed mouth, and you donât need to turn around to know Santi is smirking like a bastard. âBe a good girl and get rewards. Be a little brat and get nothing. Itâs not difficult.â
Furrowed brows and a heaving chest give away your neediness, but you stay silent. Another smack to your cunt lights up your nerve endings. You keen, thighs squeezing together, but Santi shoves your feet apart again and slaps your center again. Another cry, another wet slap, another cry. The sting singes your senses but has a delicious edge to it nonetheless.
His strong grip yanks your hair yet again. Full, soft lips graze the rim of your ear, releasing shivers across your pebbled skin as you moan uncontrollably. âApologize, now,â he booms, his smooth baritone dipping lower. You shake your head.
âFine. Have it your way.â
Then, Santi steps back, letting go of you. The motion makes you wobble a bit on your gold stilettos. You hear the fabric of his slacks rustling and the rasp of the zipper as he tucks himself back in. His expensive black dress shoes click across the marble behind you, getting fainter. Panic surges up, swooping from your belly to your throat. He wasnât joking.
âWait, no!â you simper, spinning around and pulling your panties from your mouth hurriedly. Santiâs broad back, tapered waist, and shapely derriĂšre halt, but he doesnât turn around. Silence sits thick and charged around the both of you.Â
âPlease,â you beg meekly. He only turns his head to the side, his stunning profile temporarily rendering you speechless as the lust clouds your brain.
All he does is raise one brow.
The shame and frustration burns hot but makes your pulse kick into high gear with arousal. âIâmâŠ.â you start, then groan out loud. Your eyes flick to the ceiling, then back on your man.
ââŠIâm sorry.â Heat floods your skin.
A pause. âSorry for what, bebita?â
A huff leaves your lips. His eyes drill into yours, staying quiet, until you canât handle it anymore.
âFINE!â you exclaim. âIâm sorry for not behaving myself! There, happy?â
The corner of his sinful mouth ticks upwards before he schools it back.
âGood girl.â A purr, silk and velvet wrapping itself around your body, enters your ears and burrows into some feral, instinctual part of your brain.Â
Santiâs warm, broad chest is pressed to yours in seconds, his fingers tracing curlicues and vines across your skin, and a whimper escapes your mouth when he traces a finger across the tip of your shoulder.
âThat wasnât so hard, was it?â he asks you softly, voice dipped in honey with an edge of humor. He runs his lips down your neck, pink tongue kitten licking as he goes. They wander back up to your ear and he bites your lobe gently before continuing. âBut youâre gonna have to do better than that. I donât think you really mean it.â
You choke back a whine; if you complain more now, heâs going to walk right back out that door. You worry your bottom lip sharply with your top teeth to keep yourself in line. He waits patiently.Â
âTell me what to do, Santiago,â you beg. âPlease. I need it. I need you.â
âMmm,â Santi rumbles. âMy name always sounds so sweet rolling off that talented tongue.â He grips your hips, then pivots you around to pull your body back against his chest. âI need you to listen to me and do exactly as I say this time.â Warm palms mold themselves to the flare of your ribs.
âYes, sir,â you exhale, hands subtly shaking with desire. Santi hums his approval, then his warmth leaves your back. You bite your lip harder and focus on him through the mirror ahead of you.Â
Donât. Break.Â
His steps click once again, this time towards the armchair kitty corner from the couch, and you turn your head to track his movement. Santi sinks back into it, a lion lounging, limbs loose and casual. Spread thighs beckon you invitingly. His elbow rests above his knee, assessing.Â
He leans forward, eyes intense. A single word.
âCrawl.â
Unceremoniously, your hands and knees hit the cool luxury of unforgiving marble. All you can hear is your own panting breaths and the hush of your chiffon dress dragging along the floor while you slink slowly towards Santi. Shiny black leather shoes come into view; you dare not raise your gaze to his, yet.
A barely detectable purr from above you. âLet me see those eyes.â
Slowly, your vision drags from Santiâs feet, up the fine black wool of his pants, eyes catching briefly on the clear strain of his dick against his zipper. His cream tux jacket is open, revealing the white and black polka dotted silk shirt you insisted he wear âfor a pop of something funâ. His golden skin sits under the contrasting black lapels, his pulse thrumming in his neck. You drag your eyes across his thick but trimmed salt & pepper beard, full lips, gorgeous nose, and then finally meet his espresso irises. The tiniest smile graces his mouth.
âGood girl,â Santi praises, and his words drip warmly down your spine. âNow, sit down and spread your legs.â
You scramble to a seated position, shoving your skirt out of the way huffily, your heels clicking on the marble when you get into position. Santi barely suppresses an arrogant chuckle at the way you put yourself on display for him.
âSo eager,â he teases you. You bite your lip to keep your automatic, snappy retort at bay and breathe deeply instead. Santi audibly laughs then; your brows knit together in frustration.Â
âYou can touch yourself,â he says. A whine escapes your throat before you can silence it.
Santiâs eyebrows shoot up. âNo? Iâll leave right now, and you know thatâs not an empty threat. If you want to come, you gotta do it yourself.â
Silence hangs heavy between the two of you for a few moments as you weigh your options. Heâs caved before when Iâve touched myself for him, you think, so maybe itâll work this time, too. Your hand slides between your thighs, parting your sex for your boyfriend. Santi groans under his breath. Leaning on the other hand supporting you from behind, you press your shoulders back to put your breasts on display for him. Your thighs hinge open further.
âHow do you want me to touch myself?â you ask breathily, pursing your lips a bit.
Santiâs eyes darken. âSlip your fingers inside of yourself like you want me to do.â
You bring your middle and ring fingers to your mouth and suck them inside to the last knuckle, swirling your tongue around them. Your eyes never leave his when you open your mouth and drag the tips of your fingers down your tongue. Santiâs demeanor stays calm, but his chest begins to heave a bit, betraying his arousal.
Swiftly, you slide your glistening fingers to the hilt. A broken cry tumbles from your lips. Santiâs hands grip the arms of the chair and his thighs tense. You begin to grind against your hand, your rhythm smooth and rolling, squelching sounds once again filling the space. Slick drips from you like a honeyed nectar, pooling down your wrist and onto the floor. Head thrown back, you add your pointer finger, keening at the stretch, but you canât quite fill yourself as deeply as Santi does. You shift and whine, a soft sheen of sweat blanketing your skin.Â
âPobrecita,â Santi croons. âNot hitting your favorite spot, huh?â You nod desperately, fingers still working inside of yourself. You can see the gears turning in his mind, trying to figure out the best way to proceed, then he leans back in his seat.
âCome here,â he commands, and you crawl closer to him, fingers still wedged inside of you.
He bites his lip. âDo you want help?â
âYes, please,â you moan.
âMmm, such a nice request,â he replies. âGet up and take your fingers out.â
You come to your feet and pull your fingers from yourself with a wet sucking sound. Without a word, Santi grabs your wrist and slips your fingers into his mouth. The heat envelops them immediately, and you moan wantonly when you feel his tongue laving your juices from your digits. You feel the growl radiating from his chest, up his throat, through your hand.Â
He sucks and licks until each one is clean, and then swallows greedily. His nostrils flare at your flavor.
Santi slips your fingers from his mouth. âPull your skirt up and let me see you,â he commands. You donât even need him to tell you what exactly he needs to see; you gather the diaphanous fabric with shaking hands, then place a stilettoed foot on the outside of his thigh to lewdly bare your glazed slit to him.Â
Without warning, he slaps the apex of your thighs with long, nimble fingers, the sting pushing a cry from your mouth and coaxing more slick to coat your folds.Â
âDid you learn your lesson?â he asks.
You nod your head desperately. âYes, sir.â
âGood girl,â he praises again. Casually, he blows cool air across your clit, and you mewl, dripping more for him. His eyes meet yours.
âUnbutton my pants, pull them down, and sit on my cock,â Santi directs you. When you scramble to reach his waistband, he adds, âSlowly, bebita.â You acquiesce, dragging your movements out. Santi raises his hips to aid you in slipping the dark material down to his ankles, and his length springs free, causing him to hiss as the cool air hits it. Daintily, your knees bracket his while his hands ghost the curve of your hips. You waste no time gripping his base, lining him up, and easing his hardness into the tight embrace of your pussy. You both moan out in relief, and when the soft give of his balls hit your ass, you halt your movement. His eyes never break your gaze.
âMmm, so good at listening all of the sudden,â he lilts playfully as you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from talking back. That damn smirk returns.
âPlease,â you beg, not really knowing what specifically you want him to do.
Santi lips brush the shell of your ear while your arms wrap around his neck. âHereâs what weâre going to do, my sweet, behaved girl,â he explains. âI want to watch you work that perfect little pussy on my cock, right until youâre about to come. Do not come unless I tell you to. Youâre going to hold off until I say so. Got it?â
âYes, sir,â you whine, shifting your seat for the tiniest bit of friction. You hear him huff a laugh into the crease of your neck.
âSo eager,â he drawls, then bites your earlobe. You take that as permission to start, and begin to roll your hips over his, gasping at the delicious stretch of his shaft inside of you. As your motions pick up, Santi leans back further in the chair, brings his arms up and back, and rests his hands behind his head, fully enjoying the view. His abject brashness irritates you, but itâs forgotten as soon as the head of his dick hits that devastating spot deep inside of you that he practically owns. A gasp tears from your lips.
âYes,â he praises, and you preen, moving your hips faster. âThatâs it, show me how bad you wanna come.â His eyes are dark and hooded with desire.
Sweat drips down your spine and your walls pulse, sucking him further into you with every pass. Soon enough, you feel Santiâs hands return to your hips as he starts to fuck up into you. He hits your cervix and you shudder at the sudden pressure.
âYouâre so deep in me,â you whine, dripping more slick into his lap, matting down the dark curls on his lap into a sticky mess. His jaw clenches as he feels you tighten further; he knows youâre close.
âYeah?â he asks rhetorically. âDo you like me being deep in that belly? Feeling my cock in your throat?â He punctuates his sentence with a punch up into you, making you nearly scream.
âYes,â you sob, bouncing harder on him. âPlease, Santi, fill me up.â
You both begin thrusting and grinding in earnest and your orgasm quickly precipitates in your core. Your nerves pull taut as a bowstring, shimmering on the edge of oblivion. Every brush of his stomach on your swollen clit threatens your end.
âPlease, may I come?â you beg, your thighs beginning to quiver. âPlease!â
Santi lets out a shaky breath, and you realize heâs barely keeping his composure. âI think youâve waited long enough,â he says. âCome for me.â
One more stroke of him inside of you acts as the match to your fuse, and youâre scarcely able to gasp in a breath before the tension snaps, radiating from the base of your spine and blowing searing pleasure outwards, ripping a ragged scream from your throat. You cling to him, cunt throbbing and clamping down on him, tears of relief trickling down your cheekbones, and cry his name over and over into his shoulder. It only takes him a few more seconds before your velvet vice grip sends him over the edge, a choked moan exiting through his clenched teeth as his cock swells and bursts deep in you, flooding you with his cum. His grip nearly bruises your sides as shudders wrack his body; your teeth sink into his strong shoulders while you both ride out the waves of ecstasy.
After your crests mellow into shallow tides, Santiâs hands relax, smoothing along your curves in a soothing manner. He kisses the top of your head gently, and in your delirious post-orgasmic haze, you jokingly pat-pat-pat the curls on the side of his head. Santi quietly snorts into your hair. You carefully dismount his lap, pressing your fingers to your core to stop the drip of his seed from you. His brows knit momentarily at the overstimulation.Â
You flop onto the nearby chaise lounge that he bent you over earlier, and before you can suppress it, laughter overflows from your mouth. He looks over at you, rolls his eyes, and starts tucking himself back into his pants.
âAre you happy with yourself, Giggles McGee?â he teases.Â
You nod, grinning loopily, then lay your head back. âGod, I really ought to misbehave more.â When you glance over at Santi, heâs glaring at you, though you can see heâs barely containing undeniable mirth.
Santi just shakes his head. Just as his mouth opens to retort, the door to the bathroom and powder room jiggles.
Your heads snap in the direction of the entrance, then at each other in a slight panic.Â
âGet in one of the stalls,â you hiss, âthen leave once they come in.â Santi rushes to the nearest bathroom stall and locks himself in as you scramble to right your outfit in a presentable manner. A series of knocks shakes the entry door.Â
âHello?â the stranger calls out. âIs there someone there?â
âOh! Just a minute, so sorry!â you nearly shriek, hurriedly searching for your panties, only to realize that Santi must have pocketed them earlier. âThat bastard!â you curse under your breath while wiping away the lipstick smeared past your lipline.Â
Tottering over to the door, you flip the lock and push the door open. âOh my gosh, Iâm so sorry,â you apologize profusely to the woman. âI thought it was just one stall, but turns out I was very wrong!â Sheepishly, you grin at her, hoping she accepts your story, and relax in relief when she buys it with a slightly confused expression. When the latch to her stall shuts closed, you hear Santi exit his stall behind you. You spot him over your shoulder in the mirror while you fix your hair.Â
âBehave,â he mouths at you, then sends a cheesy wink towards you while straightening his shirt collar. Santi swings the door open before you can even roll your eyes at him.Â
âWhat a bastard,â you mutter under your breath. Pulling out your lipstick, you swipe on a fresh coat, then freeze.
An irresistible idea materializes. Checking briefly to make sure the other woman is still in the stall, you ruck up your skirts just enough to access your dripping pussy, and quickly swipe your thumb through your and Santiâs combined releases. You then hustle towards the exit.
Weaving through the gala crowd, you spot your man walking up to Benny and his girlfriend Mandy, neither of them the wiser about your bathroom antics. Santi claps Benny on the back and hugs Mandy warmly.
âHey sunshine!â Benny looks past Santi and greets you enthusiastically. You lean in for a hug, careful not to touch him with your hand, and do the same to bubbly, sweet Mandy.
âOh, babe, you have something on your face,â you chide with fake concern, turning to Santi, then swipe your anointed thumb across his lips. His amusement falters, and he goes stock-still as he registers what you just did.Â
You smile deviously at him. âAll better,â you chirp innocently. The telltale muscle feathers in his jaw as his eyes lock on yours.
âSanti, are you wearing lip gloss?â Mandy pipes up. You all stare at him as he licks his lips, fire in his eyes, no doubt tasting the evidence of your earlier escapades.
You give him your best Cheshire cat grin.
Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog so others can read it too! I love praise so feel free to drop some love in the comments or my inbox :) xoxo
Tagging folks who might be interested (NP): @penvisions @for-a-longlongtime @mountainsandmayhem @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @missdictatorme @almostempty @almostfoxglove @h4untedsp3ctor @kokoluwie @whocaresstillthelouvre @perotovar @cosmickid-inmotion @qveerthe0ry @sp00kymulderr @arcane-fox @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @ivystoryweaver @simpingforjoel @reallyrallyauthor @rhapsodyofdarkness @kedsandtubesocks @baronessvonglitter @gothcsz @oonajaeadira @jessthebaker @ghotifishreads @ghostofaboy @musings-of-a-rose @absurdthirst @wardenparker @dizthemonster @evolnoomym @faretheeoscar @grandtheftaristotle @gasolinerainbowpuddles @hoeruiness @im-poe-dameron @julesonrecord @lavendertales @max--phillips @ozarkthedog @writefightandflightclub @wannab-urs @yopossum @yorksgirl @aria725 @just-ashlee @mysticalmoonb3ams @steven-grants-world @julesonrecord















