#Andy Imagine

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Cheering Up A Depressed Andy

(Slight) Andy X FemReader

Ratings: T+

Warnings: Drinking, insults, mentions of death, slight spoilers

Word Count: 1.7k

(A/N:) I am obsessed with Undead Unluck right now and I had to write a self indulgent Andy fic! I do ship him and Fuuko really hard but Andy is too perfect not to crush on. So while I have a ship I still want to enjoy some reader inserts with this handsome and unhinged dude! So this happened as I was so excited about a little of Andy's past getting animated! I had a little too much fun with the dialog too but I hope you all enjoy it! Until next time happy reading!

~Countess

Being a bounty hunter had it's perks though it was one of the toughest jobs offered in the growing country you live in. You had met your fair share of folks and about took out as many as well. The types of people you hunted, weren't like the upstanding citizens in normal towns you passed through. So they really weren't missed and kept their would be victims safe another day. You had just gotten finished with a particularly large bounty, so after collecting your reward you made the decision that you deserved a much needed break. Heading over to the next town, you carved yourself a place for the next two weeks or more.

After a week into your relaxation a stranger blew into town you never met before. He was a quiet character and it seemed like trouble drew to him like flies to a carcass. He was aloof and refused to speak much. Questions were answered with simple answers and he never gave more information than necessary. Even renting a room in the tavern/inn you were occupying had become awkward as he refused to answer the majority of the owner's questions. Only made worse when he was a coin short of the payment to stay. Without a word you dug into the pockets of your well worn pants before flipping it to the owner with amazing accuracy. He pocketed the man's payment quickly and the stranger turned around taking in your feminine form as you downed the rest of your glass and tipped your hat. Standing from the chair you made your way up the stairs, ignoring the jeers from the men below, your curiosity piquing the more you stayed close to the gray haired man.

A few more days passed by and still the gray haired stranger occupied the same space as you. He kept his distance, though he acted indifferent you could tell he watched his surroundings with an attentive gaze. The card in his forehead was a mystery that was driving you crazy. And even though the numerous tavern girls seemed to flock to him, he had no interest. The only thing he seemed to enjoy was the brawls that would break out, the majority of the time it was men starting arguments with him. The fights didn't last long and he always came out on top. He didn't joke. He didn't laugh. He rarely said a word. And despite yourself you found yourself sitting closer and closer to him every night. He was a mystery and you could feel the sad loneliness rolling off of him in waves. You should have ended your reprieve then and there. Left town and went back to what you were good at. But something deep inside nagged at you. You couldn't leave this man alone and part of you dreaded that you were going to pay a steep price for your curiosity.

The next night after finishing your meal, you went to the bar ordering two drinks and paying for them. The heavy glasses not the only weight as your heavy heart pounded in your chest. The enigma of the man sitting in his normal spot, pushing around the scraps on his plate. He didn't even jump or look up as you thudded the glass before him. After a few seconds, you cleared your throat, loudly. You didn't take kindly to being ignored, especially when you were doing a good deed. Those were rare and if this man had any sense he would be grateful.

He looked up, blue eyes dull and full of caution. It made you suck in a breath as he looked handsome far away, but up close he was stunning.

"Drink," you asked and he grunted in reply. Knocking the chair at his side back with your boot, you parked yourself right next to him throwing your slender legs up and crossing your ankles on the table top. Knocking your glass against his hard, you took a loud long guzzle. You sighed before gazing at him, waiting for the same.

"Not very ladylike are you," he asked simply.

You shrugged, "Not particularly. Can't afford to be in my line of work. Are you going to drink that or not? I paid for it and I won't let it go to waste."

He chuckled, though the mirth didn't make it to his eyes. He finally picked up the glass giving it a healthy swig.

"Good boy," you cooed and he glared.

"You buy drinks for men often?"

"Nope," you picked at your nails. "Even sad puppy dog eyed men get ignored by me. So you should feel very special. You tugged on my dried up heartstrings."

"They're not that dry then," he scoffed.

"Keep talking and that beer will disappear."

"Yeah," he took another drink. "Down my throat anyway."

You glared harder taking your feet off the table to lean in closer, "I may just shove that glass down your throat too while I'm at it."

He bared his teeth, "I'd like to see you try."

You shot upwards, snarling at him before quicker than a flash, he hooked his foot on your chair leg tugging it forward. The sturdy wood hit the back of your knees, crashing you back down into the seat. You sat stunned for a moment, unused to people gaining the upper hand on you.

"Simmer down I was joking," he rolled his eyes. "Whatever you do for a living sure did take your sense of humor."

"And here I thought the sad washed up sap no longer had one," you retorted quickly.

"I may be lost in thought but I can keep up with the best of them," his gaze darted back to you. "Just remember that."

A few tense moments passed by and the patrons that had watched the exchange between you both, started to relax. Even the owner had been tense as he didn't want his establishment wrecked by a fight between the two of you. With your glass empty, you stood to go get another one, when his hand wrapped around your wrist. Pouring the rest of the liquid that remained in his glass into yours. You sat there stunned at the kindness.

"I've had enough," he shrugged.

Your finger circled around the smudged rim as you now didn't know how to act around him. Many people didn't treat you nicely and if they did they always wanted something or take advantage of you.

"Got a name," you finally asked the curiosity not leaving you alone.

"No."

"Where you from?"

"Don't know."

"Well you're just a well of knowledge. Good chat," you rolled your eyes. "Guess I'll just call you bigmouth."

"Please. Don't."

"What," you grinned deviously, "do you prefer idiot? Maybe moron? Boring?"

"I get it," he waved a large hand.

You pouted thinking that would have gotten a rise out of him.

"Just call me Vic," he replied confused where he pulled that name from his mind.

"I think I rather call you bigmouth," you stated.

"Don't care."

Crossing your arms while slumping in the seat, you were starting to get annoyed for the lack of progress. The longer you spoke to Vic, the more your curiosity grew instead of shrinking.

"Soooo wanna share why you got such a long face over here," you asked.

"I rather not," he seemed to shrink further into his shell.

"Fine. I'll tell you something about myself first and then you have to at least give me something."

Vic shook his head but waved for you to continue. He remained quiet letting you have a moment of victory as you wouldn't let up until you got some bit of information from him.

"I'm a bounty hunter," you showed him the badge that normally hung between your breasts under your shirt. "Been all over this country and taken out many criminals. Been needing a break so I've been staying here."

Vic nodded, "I've been travelling myself. Taking out my own class of criminals with my team."

"Where is your team," you asked and immediately regretted it as he stiffened.

He looked away, emotion clogging up his throat a little bit, "They're dead. They were killed thanks to a barmaid who saved herself. I was the only one who survived."

That was one of the main reasons you refused to recruit on your missions. You didn't want to lose anyone and it was hard for you to get along with others very often."

"Sorry to hear that."

He shrugged again, "So I rather travel alone. It hurts less."

"That's the main reason I travel alone. Nobody to mourn and if I get turned into bird food. Then nobody is around to mourn me either."

"That's a sad existence," he replied.

"You chose the same existence as me," you pointed out, laughing into your mug.

He chuckled and this time the amusement made it's way to his eyes, "I guess I did. But it doesn't mean I don't make friends along the way."

"Are you calling me a friend there Vic?"

"We're drinking together aren't we," he pointed to the two mugs.

"I think I'm doing the majority of the drinking here," you said matter-of-factly.

Without another word Vic gave the owner the sign for two more drinks. He nodded getting to work filling two more glasses.

"My hero," you cooed kissing his cheek quickly. Vic sat there stunned for a few moments. You grinned smugly as you felt like you got some revenge for the seat ordeal he just pulled moments ago. Despite never trusting easily, you found yourself comfortable around Vic. He still had so many things left to uncover and you knew as soon as your time was up in town, you both would go your separate ways. But for this night and the last moments you and him would enjoy each other's company. Vic watched you closely and despite telling himself not to get close, he couldn't keep that promise to himself. You were too fascinating to him and he felt himself falling. Needing to know more, needing to get closer. He knew that it would end and that would be that, but for these quiet and blissful moments he would allow himself a chance to enjoy something good and fun. Until he was finally able to find his purpose or he found the death he craved. He hoped to find more people like you through his long journey, but this was your chance and you both wouldn't squander it.

[deathc-re]

your older!bf who has really opened your eyes to the world of mature men. who truly listens when have a complaint and works to fix it. who shows you that he adores you, even in his own strange way. who goes out of his way to spoil you and pamper you; who always makes sure you have the best of the best.

older!bf who literally is the best sexual experience you've had in your whole life. who does things you didn't even think were possible. who makes you feel levels of pleasure you'd only read about until this point. who pays such close attention to ever twitch and flinch and gasp and abuses ever spot that brings you pleasure. who reaches places so deep inside that you're surprised feels good instead of painful. who goes above and beyond with aftercare, making you feel so safe and secure. who makes sure you're well feed and clean, your favorite show or song playing as he cuddles you close.

older!bf who wastes no time to show you off and shower you in praise. who compliments every aspect of you, some you didn't even notice about yourself. who respects and knows you as a person. who is secure enough in himself and the relationship to know that even tho you're together, you're your own separate people and is fine with it.

older!bf who is protective of you and takes the extra measures to make sure you're safe in every situation he can, no matter what.

older!bf who loves you :(

LAW, corazon, sir crocodile, bakugo, aizawa, FAT GUM, sung-jin woo, andy, GETO, and my man <3

[fandomfloozy]

nsfw mdni

watching jason todd work on his motorcycle be like...

jason: what?

y/n: just lookin'

jason: you look like you got something to say

y/n: [shakes head] mm-mm

jason: you sure?

y/n: ...well...

jason: tell me

y/n: mmmm... no, it's too embarrassing

jason: pfft. you? embarrassed?

y/n: perish the thought

jason: so lay it on me

y/n: oh, i'll lay something on you

jason: babe...

y/n: jaybird, i don't mean to be crass but--

jason: sweetheart, just spit it out--

y/n: i wanna suck your dick so bad

jason: ...

jason: /////// jesus christ...

~°•*~

A/N: something about a man all greased up and sweaty while working on machinery uwu

[andypantsx3]

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4

Then

It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.

You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.

After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.

He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.

That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.

You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.

You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.

You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?

“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”

“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”

The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.

She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.

“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.

As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.

“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.

Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.

He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.

“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.

Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”

Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.

“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.

“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.

“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.

Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.

“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.

You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.

His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.

“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.

You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.

Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.

By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”

“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.

“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.

Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.

“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.

That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.

Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.

A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”

A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.

You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”

Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.

And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.

You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.

Now

Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.

Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.

Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.

You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.

“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.

“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”

That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.

“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.

Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.

“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.

The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.

“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”

“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.

“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”

Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.

“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.

But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.

The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.

You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.

Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.

Purportedly.

“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”

You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”

“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.

You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.

And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.

The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.

“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”

Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.

On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”

You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”

Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”

You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.

“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”

Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.

“Wow, good for him,” you said.

“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”

And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.

Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.

And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.

Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.

Yeah. He was most probably an omega.

“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.

Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.

“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.

You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.

When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.

The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.

Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.

The house said otherwise.

Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.

“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.

Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.

You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.

You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.

Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.

“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.

“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.

“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.

“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.

“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.

It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?

You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.

That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?

Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.

You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.

No. No fucking way.

Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.

An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.

Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”

He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”

You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.

“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.

“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”

Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.

“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.

“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.

“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.

Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”

You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.

“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”

Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.

“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”

“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”

“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.

You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.

You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”

You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”

“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.

Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.

“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”

Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”

“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”

“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.

Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.

You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”

“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.

“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.

You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.

“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.

You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.

“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.

Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.

Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.

You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”

Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”

A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.

“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.

But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.

The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.

And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.

You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.

After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.

[yanderemommabean]

Andy going into rut though. Reader is just trying to get him to calm down after being so aggressive to the other staff and he just corners you into the stall, chuffing and snarling, demanding that you remove everything you have on you, because none of it smells like him and he hates that anything else has it's scent on you. You're bent over the hay, breathless, leaking, begging to be given a break and the hybrid simply yanks your hair and tells you "You can take it. You're a big farmer, aren't you?" and just makes you take every inch he has to give again and again and again.

You think that afterwards maybe he'd get it out of his system, but no, you're curled around and brought to his stall, where he rubs his face against you and growls when you try to pull away, scenting you aggressively while debating on filling you up one more time, you know, "for good luck"

-Mommabean

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting. 

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter. 

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following. 

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty. 

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday. 

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat. 

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver. 

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy. 

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.  

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back. 

And that’s when all eyes turn to you. 

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts. 

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.” 

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.” 

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you. 

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.” 

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch. 

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth. 

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney. 

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice? 

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar. 

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.” 

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car. 

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk. 

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?” 

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it. 

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave. 

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer. 

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

“Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter. 

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house. 

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

Unofficial Taglist:

@cjand10

[leahssmile]

— ella

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: ever since she started dating you, leah has heard lots about your daughter, ella. but she hasn't met her yet, until now.

notes: this is my first fic so sorry if it's not the best, I'm still trying to figure out writing and stuff!! anyways – feedback and such is appreciated! take care, everyone! :)

Ever since you'd started dating Leah, she'd been eager to meet your daughter who you talked so much about, Ella.

You always seemed to have a new story or quip about your daughter to share with her, always with heaps of love and adoration piled onto your words.

However after being together for a few months you still hadn't introduced the two, much less shared a photo of the young girl with her.

Leah didn't push it, though. She understood that you wanted to take the relationship slow and didn't want to rush to introduce the two.

She was content with letting you decide when the right time would be for her to meet such a big person in your life, and until then she was fine with the details about you that you did share.

One such detail had been your desire to go to a new restaurant that had opened up a few weeks ago, the reviews had been great and you always complained there weren't any other good restaurants around where you lived that you could get your Italian food fix.

So Leah figures taking you out to the Italian restaurant for some pasta as your next date would be a great idea.

So after some planning and bringing the idea of a dinner date up to you, she books a reservation and impatiently waits for you to get off work.

She worries for a bit about Ella, if you'll be able to get someone to watch her on such a short notice, but you don't express any worries yourself so she figures you'd hire a nanny or get a teammate to babysit, so she doesn't dwell on it too much, more focused on making the date the best it could be.

She's already been seated at a table by the time you arrive, but she stands to greet you as a waitress directs you over.

After a quick hug she gestures for you to take a seat, noticing the vaguely tired look on your face as you take off your coat and slide into the booth.

“Everything alright?” She asks worryingly, wondering if work had drained you enough for a rescheduling of the date to be considered.

You quickly wave her worries away, taking a sip of your water before explaining, “Yeah, Ella was just rowdy all night so I didn't get a great night's sleep.” Leah nods understandably, reaching over to squeeze your hand across from the table.

You both smile, and shortly after your waitress arrives to get your orders.

The date progresses smoothly from there, the food and service is just as wonderful as Leah had hoped, and most importantly, you seem to be having a great time.

The mood carries outside of the restaurant as you both head to your cars parked next to each other, and just as Leah turns to give you a kiss goodnight you suggest a different plan.

“Do you want to come over to my place? Maybe meet Ella?”

Leah tries her best to hide her excitement at the offer, but her eyes still manage to light up and a smile stretches across her face as the prospect of you finally being ready to introduce her to Ella.

“Of course!” She says quickly, not giving her answer a second thought.

You burst into your own grin, giving a little cheer before hugging the footballer.

“Okay, you can follow me there, since we both drove here.” Leah nods, momentarily regretting her earlier choice to drive herself to the restaurant.

However the drive is short, and once she takes a second to calm herself she gets out of her car and follows you inside.

“Ella!” You call as you step into the house, and Leah tilts her head for a response as she makes sure to shut the door after the both of you.

She doesn't hear one, and she figures that maybe the girl was in her bedroom with the nanny, too far into the house for her to hear.

But after a moment, Leah hears the sound of scampering coming down the ball, and as she turns to see your daughter for the first time, readying herself to make a good impression, she freezes.

Because instead of a young girl, maybe with you eyes or other features, coming down the hall to throw her arms around you, a small brown puppy scampers into your arms, slathering your face with puppy kisses.

You giggle as the puppy jumps up and down, cupping its head to press your own kiss to its furry head. And as if to confirm Leah's confused and dumbfounded thoughts, you scoop it up and turn to her.

“Leah, meet Ella! Ella, this is Leah.”

You stand there for a second, the puppy extended in your arms towards Leah, who in turn stares dumbly as she feels herself start to grow red in embarrassment.

“I- this is so embarrassing.” She finally mumbles, moving her hands to cover her face as her shoulders sag in embarrassment and disbelief.

“What is?” You question, worry gathering inside you as you shift the puppy in order to place a supportive hand onto her arm.

Leah sighs, smiling weakly as she forces herself to look up at you. “I thought Ella was… I thought she was your daughter.” She finally gets out, feeling her cheeks heat up once more as she moves to cover her face again.

You try to hold back your laughter, but it pours out of you as you take in what she had just admitted, bending down to rest the puppy back onto the floor as you descend into giggles.

Ella nudges Leah's foot, and after a moment she finally looks down at the dachshund-looking puppy.

She has to admit, she is cute. And her eyes strangely do have a similar shine to yours.

And by the time you get all your laughter out she's sitting on the floor of the kitchen, rubbing the floppy puppy's tummy softly.

“I'm sorry.” You offer weakly, a small smile continuing to play at your lips as you join her on the tiles.

She sighs, lightly shaking her head. “Don't be, I don't know why I assumed she was a kid over a dog. Like who says their daughter needs to be house trained instead of potty trained?”

You chuckle, rubbing Ella between her ears. “To be fair, I have been told I sometimes talk about her like she is my daughter.”

It was what some called a bad habit, but it had never really been an issue until now. You just loved your puppy, she was your first pet, and the perfect one at that, so you loved to gush about her and everything she does to anyone who would listen.

“Well, she is a sweetheart.” Leah says after a moment, watching as the puppy climbs into your lap, contently curling up there.

She had always wanted a pup of her own, anyways, and she was happy she could share your love for your pup too.

[cemeterygrace]

all is as it should be on no but seriously imagine it eve

[swagsmeister]

there wasn’t a backstage group mcr/fob pic so i had to do it myself 😡🤬🤬

[navybrat817]

Resignation

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You get to know Andy a bit more and put in your notice, but your boss doesn't it take it well. Word Count: Almost 4.4k Warnings: Slow burn, getting to know each other, sugar daddy contraction, tension, flirting, slight insecurities, inner monologue, yelling (apologies to anyone named Sean), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Header - yours truly Previous Part: Sign the Dotted Line A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The feeling of floating on cloud nine wasn't something you experienced much in your life. There were high points, of course, but nothing like the elation that filled you as Andy went to make a copy of the contract. It was almost dizzying to think that for the next three quarters of a year, everything was going to be okay. Better than okay.

All thanks to Andy.

Estelle shrieked as she pulled you to your feet. “You're a sugar baby! You're a sugar baby!” she sang, making you laugh as she did a little dance with it.

“I thought you said I was going to be his ‘companion’,” you teased.

She leveled you with a look. “It’s the same thing,” she said, grabbing her bag. “And since your new ‘companion’ is taking you to the diner, why don’t we celebrate tomorrow? You better give me all the details.”

You giggled again at the implication as she squeezed you in a tight hug. If you weren’t happy before, you would've been thanks to her infectious attitude. “You sure don’t need me to head down with you?”

“No, I’m good. You just enjoy the rest of the day,” she said, winking at you and pointing at Andy when he came back. “Have fun and be good to her or I’ll destroy you,” she told him as she walked by with every ounce of confidence you wished you had. “And nice meeting you!”

You half expected there to be an air of awkwardness once the two of you were left alone and were surprised not to feel it at all. It was hard to describe the atmosphere outside of that, but it was something both familiar and new. Maybe that was because Andy continued to put you at ease all while exciting you. The next chapter of your time would be unpredictable in ways that you were looking forward to encountering.

Did he feel the same way?

Andy chuckled after a moment, the sound bringing a smile back to your face as he held up the papers in his hand. “I realize this is probably a bit outdated since everything is done electronically, but I prefer it this way.”

“I don't think it’s outdated,” you assured him as he handed you the contract, his fingers brushing yours. Would you ever get used to the jolt of electricity you felt at his touch? “It’s less of a chance of it getting leaked.”

Though it was you he worried about, you still wanted to protect his reputation.

“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling to himself when you tucked the papers carefully in your folder. “Estelle is serious, isn’t she? She’ll destroy me if I hurt you?”

“Oh, yeah. She isn’t afraid of anyone,” you said as you shifted slightly on your feet. “But I wouldn't worry about her. I don't expect you to hurt me.”

He had to know that.

Andy took a step closer. “She’s a good person to have on your side,” he commented, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the soft look in his eyes. “And I have no intention of hurting you.”

You carefully considered his words with furrowed brows. “Aren't you supposed to say you promise not to hurt me?”

A sad smile touched his lips. “People make promises and usually do so for the right reasons, but they don't always lead to the desired outcome,” he replied as if he peeled back a small layer of himself that still left you with questions. “Take the weeklong silence, for example. I inadvertently hurt you by not reaching out.”

Your cheeks flamed, almost wishing you hadn't mentioned it. “But we talked about that. You didn't mean anything by it.”

“Yes, we did talk about it and I'm glad you told me how you felt. I still caused doubt in your mind though,” he said, his tone gentle and understanding without breaking eye contact. “So while I do want to promise that I’ll never hurt you, I'd rather promise that I have no intention of ever hurting you. Because I don't.”

It took a moment to recall that Andy was married once years ago. While you weren't sure why things ended, did his divorce give him a new perspective on making and keeping promises? Or was it his time as a lawyer?

Whatever the reason you had to respect him for his outlook.

“I appreciate that and I will hold you to that,” you said, falling in step beside him as you headed for the door.

He raised an eyebrow as he held it open for you to go through, allowing you to catch the scent of his cologne again as you walked past. You almost asked what brand it was just so you could get a bottle and spritz your worn in sweatshirts. “Isn't this the part where you promise you have no intention of hurting me?” He questioned.

“I don't think I have the power to hurt you,” you replied, not looking behind you as you headed toward the elevator. You were positive you didn't have that kind of influence nor did you want to hurt him. “But I promise that I have no intention to do so.”

You froze when he leaned in close, his beard ticking your ear and it took all of your inner strength not to turn your head toward him. “Never underestimate how powerful you are, honey,” he whispered, your breath rushing out of your lungs as he stepped back and gestured to the open elevator doors. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” you replied, your voice more breathy than you intended as you stepped inside. You swore you caught him smiling before he joined you.

“I gave my driver the afternoon off, so you’re stuck with me,” he said, pressing the button for the lowest level before the doors slid shut. “I hope that’s okay.”

“I think I can handle you driving,” you teased, happy that the two of you would be alone for part of the evening.

He chuckled before he went quiet again. The silence was comfortable, the soft dings as you passed each floor the only sound in the space. It gave you a moment to admire the man beside you. With his perfect posture, chin held high, and pristine suit, you tried to picture how he looked when he simply relaxed. No eyes on him. No one expecting anything from him.

Maybe he can show me that side of himself sometime soon.

“You’re staring,” he stated.

You smiled, not at all embarrassed that he caught you without looking your way. “I guess it’s because I’m still trying to figure you out.”

That and he was still one of the most handsome men you had ever seen.

But who was Andy Barber beyond his money? Your hero and your second chance at a better life, but what else? What did he do for fun? What did he want out of life, years from now?

Andy swung his head toward you as the elevator came to a stop. “I guess that makes two of us then.”

You found yourself in his car a few minutes later. The Audi still had that “new car” smell to it, the passenger seat sleek and not at all broken in. There wasn’t a spec of dust on the leather interior. Either he didn’t drive it often or he made sure to keep it in next to perfect condition.

Your mind drifted back to Andy’s earlier statement. What exactly was he trying to figure out? If he meant that he was trying to figure you out, he didn’t have to look too deeply. And if he was still trying to figure himself out, that was normal. Searching for your true self was a lifelong journey. And with your newfound sense of freedom at your fingertips, you’d be able to explore your own passions and visualize your ideal self.

But part of you figuring Andy out was getting to know him.

“Why the diner?” You asked, glancing over at him as he concentrated on the road in front of him. “I mean, why go there for coffee or food when you can go anywhere else?”

Maybe upscale places weren’t his usual style. He took you to the Courthouse and looked at ease there, but maybe the diner was an escape. Something different.

“I didn’t grow up with much, but my mom made it work as best as she could,” he admitted, a wistful note in his voice. “We never went hungry and she got creative with some meals so I wouldn’t get tired of eating the same thing. Things like fast food were considered a treat and diners were fine dining.”

You shifted in your seat as you listened, touched by the unexpected vulnerability. “I’ll bet she looked forward to those moments,” you said.

“She did and so did I,” he smiled over at you. “On the rare nights when she was able to save up and take us to a diner, she got a large breakfast or dinner meal for us to split. Best way to stretch her dollar and make sure neither of us felt hungry after.”

You almost reached over to take his hand, but you didn’t want to overstep. He was giving you a piece of himself by revealing a part of his past. That was more than you could ask for.

“I went to diners in college, too, when I was struggling to make ends meet,” he continued, stroking his beard for a moment. “I guess they kind of stuck with me because they reminded me of happier times. They also serve as a reminder to be thankful for what I have. It’s important to remember who I was then and who I am now.”

You let out a breath and closed your eyes as he turned onto the next street, wishing you could thank his mother for raising such an amazing man. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

His hand covered yours unexpectedly when your eyes opened. “Thank you for asking.”

You turned your wrist so your palm met his, your stomach flipping as he held it a little tighter. Opening up was never easy, even if Andy made it sound effortless. You felt closer to him after hearing that important piece of his history. Even the crackle of electricity felt different this time. Instead of a jolt, it was like a steady hum.

Maybe that closeness was the reason you didn’t want to let go when he parked his car in front of the diner.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You swallowed as you glanced out the window, the flashing lights from the sign of the beckoning for you to go in. “I just can't believe I'm actually going to quit,” you said, clutching your bag with your other hand. “I mean, I do believe it. I have my resignation letter here and everything.”

“Even when you had that bit of doubt that the contract wouldn't go through, you had your letter ready,” he smiled.

You toyed with the strap of your bag as you tried to hide your smile. “I guess I did.”

Preparation never hurt anyone.

“But if you’d rather hold off until tomorrow, I understand. I can even drive you back here if you want to wait,” he offered.

For a moment, you questioned if you should wait. As you bit your lip to fight your smile more and squeezed Andy’s hand, you made your decision. You signed the contract. You were more than ready.

Most of all, you deserved to start your path to a better future.

“I’m ready,” you assured him, reluctantly releasing his hand before you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Are you going in or did you want to wait here?”

“I’ll grab a coffee while I wait,” he said, stopping you as you reached for your door handle. “Allow me.”

You smiled to yourself as he went around to let you out. “Are you always a gentleman?”

“Not always,” he said without missing a beat, winking as you joined him on the sidewalk.

You licked your lips and gazed into his bright blue eyes. Could he see the want in yours? What would it take to make him lose control?

“I’m looking forward to seeing that side of you, Mr. Barber,” you smiled, brushing past him as he inhaled.

But first things first.

The bell rang as you walked inside and you paused to take it all in. Taking Andy’s earlier story to heart, you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget that this diner was part of your story. It not only led him to you, but also kept you from becoming homeless. It was a blessing.

“Hey,” Casey, one of the veteran servers, nodded to you from behind the counter before she looked over your outfit. She seemed to forget all about you as Andy as he walked in behind you. You didn't blame her. “Hi there. Sit anywhere you’d like.”

Andy put his hand on your lower back before he leaned in, your breath hitching slightly. “Good luck, honey,” he whispered, releasing you as Casey gawked in your direction. “I’ll just have a coffee, please,” he said as he took a seat at the counter.

The usual warmth Andy exuded was down a notch. Still friendly, but different. Or maybe you were just telling yourself that in order to feel special. “Is Sean here?”

“Yep. In the office,” Casey answered, pouring Andy a fresh cup of coffee. “Just got here.”

“I’ll be right back,” you told Andy, feeling his eyes on you as you headed through the employee only doors.

Sean had his head buried in some paperwork as he grumbled to himself. With a deep breath, you knocked on the open door. He didn't speak to you much outside of your shifts and hardly praised you for a job well done, but he wasn't a bad boss. You felt bad disturbing him, but it was now or never.

“Hi. May I come in?” You asked as he looked up.

“Yeah. Don't shut the door though. Lock’s broken,” he said, nodding to the chair in front of his desk. “Didn’t expect to see you today. What are you all dressed up for?”

“Oh, I had a meeting,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. You did meet with Andy. “That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about.”

“A meeting?” He repeated with a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting.”

Your stomach began to twist in knots. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint your boss, even if he wouldn’t be that for much longer. Being a waitress also wasn’t your dream job, but it helped you when you needed it.

Now you have to help yourself.

“Yes, I am. I’m putting in my two weeks notice,” you said quietly, taking the letter out of your bag and placing it on the desk when he stared impassively. “I found another opportunity and I’m going to take it, but I’m happy to take any shifts I can over the next two weeks to help.”

Sean didn’t speak for a moment as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “Two weeks? No, that's not gonna work. We’re short as it is,” he said, shoving the paper away before he leaned back in his chair. Was he serious? “You're gonna have to make it four weeks and then we'll revisit after that to see if we need you to stay on longer.”

“No. I'm giving you two weeks,” you reiterated, your tone unwavering. You wouldn’t let Sean bully you into staying longer, even as guilt crept up since the place was short-staffed. “That's standard and I can't do more than that. I'm sorry.”

“Oh, no. I'm still in charge and you'll give me four weeks. That’s final,” he argued, waving his hand dismissively as you shrank a bit in your chair. “Unless you have anything else to add, I’ll see you next shift.”

You clasped your hands in your lap to keep from shaking. You didn't expect him to react this way. “No, that’s not final. I can't give you four weeks,” you said as calmly as possible, even as you began to feel more uncomfortable. “I would if I could, but I can't. I’m sorry.”

“Can't or won't?” Sean asked, almost making you jump as he raised his voice. “Listen here, you've been a solid employee and I'm not going to lose you in two weeks or four weeks. Do you understand? And if you don't show up you can forget about ever getting a good recommendation from me. Might as well kiss that ‘opportunity’ of yours goodbye.”

Your eyes burned as your mind flashed back to when you were told you were laid off from your previous job, the compassionate tone of your old boss the opposite of the man in front of you. The situations were different, but both made you feel so small. Especially since Sean was essentially threatening your future endeavors. You refused to cry though.

He wouldn’t witness your tears.

You cleared your throat and maintained your resolve. “Two weeks, Sean. That’s it. I said I’m willing to work as many shifts as I can over the next two weeks, but I can't do more than that. I won’t,” you firmly spoke as his eyes widened. “I really don't want to end this on a bad note, please.”

He pushed himself to his feet as he thrust a finger toward your face as if it would somehow make him appear intimidating to tower over you. It wouldn’t sway you. “Listen here, you little-”

“Is everything okay?”

Andy’s voice made both of you jump as you spun in your chair. He stood in the doorway but didn’t look your way. He trained his gaze on your boss, his normally bright eyes narrow and cold.

Your boss must’ve felt malice in that stare since he sat down immediately. “Oh. Mr. Barber,” he said. Did he know him as a regular customer or merely recognize his status? “It’s just an issue with an employee. This doesn’t concern you.”

“There is no issue,” you corrected him.

“Actually, she’s with me, so it does concern me,” Andy spoke as he took a step into the office, staring your boss down with a clenched jaw. The space no longer felt like Sean’s. It was as if Andy owned it along with everything in it. “If you want to raise your voice at someone, I’m right here. You won’t speak to her that way though. Do you understand?”

The deep timbre almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your heart pounding from Andy defending you.

Sean coughed a bit as color filled his cheeks. He should be embarrassed. “I didn’t realize she was with you. I wouldn’t have…” he trailed off.

Your blood simmered. He wouldn’t have raised his voice at you if he knew you were with Andy. Was this a taste of what things were going to be like? How people were going to treat you moving forward?

“Who she’s with shouldn’t matter. Not to mention, your customers and employees could hear you since your door was open,” Andy added, disappointment thickly laced in his voice. “You said she was a solid employee. Why would you speak to her like that?”

Sean’s eyes flickered to you as you waited for an answer. “We’ve been short-staffed and I’ve been stressing over it. That’s no excuse. I'm sorry,” he said to Andy, making your blood go from simmering to boiling. A customer, a powerful man, got the apology, but not you. “Won’t happen again.”

“Maybe remind yourself to be kind to the people who work for you before you raise your voice again. They’re the ones who keep your business running,” Andy said.

With a hang of his head, your boss sighed. “Two weeks, huh?” He asked, the wind completely out of his sails as you nodded. “Okay. Two weeks it is.”

“Thanks,” you whispered before Andy walked over and held out his hand to help you to your feet. Luckily, you didn’t tremble as you took it and gave it a small squeeze. It was nice that he was on your side.

“And one more thing?” Andy added as Sean glanced up. “I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

You held up your other hand when Sean looked your way and opened his mouth. “No. The only reason you’re going to say you’re sorry is because he’s here,” you stated, looking at Andy momentarily. He responded with an encouraging smile. “And I don’t want an empty apology. You can keep it.”

It was nice that Andy wanted an apology on your behalf, but it wouldn't feel believable.

Sean’s face fell, but he didn’t argue. Up until today, he treated you decently. The pressures of running a business were tough, but he had no reason to take it out on you. At the same time, you felt bad for him.

“But thank you, Sean. You gave me a job when I needed one and I won’t forget that,” you added gently. “I’ll see you next shift.”

“Why don't I meet you outside? I just want one more quick word with your boss,” Andy said as Sean audibly swallowed.

Uh-oh.

“Sure,” you said, the knots in your gut unraveling as you left the two of them alone.

You exhaled as you walked back into the dining area, avoiding the gazes from a few of the customers. Your hand shook as you gave Casey a small wave. At least she didn’t look upset with you.

“Quitting, huh? Lucky duck,” she smiled sadly. “You okay? He had no right speaking to you like that.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded, taking another breath. You didn't like anyone raising their voice at you, but you wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it and didn’t need her to worry. All you could do was make the transition as smooth as possible over the next two weeks. “Didn't expect that kind of reaction. Didn’t expect anyone out here to hear it.”

“Sean’s voice carries and he’s probably just pissed that he’s losing another good one while he’s stuck here,” she guessed, glancing over her shoulder before she added in a whisper, “Oh, and that guy you’re with? He looked furious when he heard him.”

“He did?” You asked, an almost goofy smile appearing on your face.

“Yeah, he did. He had fire in his eyes. Put a bill down, got to his feet, and immediately walked back there. And I wasn’t about to stop him,” she said, her smile widening as she leaned on the counter. “I’d say he’s smitten.”

Your heart skipped a beat. First Estelle, now Casey. Though the latter had no clue about the arrangement. “He’s really something, isn't he?”

“Oh, yeah,” Casey said, straightening up when the employee door swung open.

Andy’s eyes landed on you as he walked through, his eyes soft again as he held out his hand. He also looked pleased with himself. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you said, taking it as you gave Casey a nod. “I’ll see you soon. Hope the rest of your shift is okay.”

“Me, too. See ya,” she said before she went back to assisting other customers.

“You okay?” Andy asked softly as he led you outside.

“I’m fine,” you promised, not wanting him to worry either or get upset. “But what did you say to Sean?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he answered, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m sorry if I overstepped by intervening. I just couldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

He easily deflected your question and you decided to let him have that victory for now.

You went in for a hug but kept space for him to breathe. He wrapped his arms tightly around you before you could pull away, your body melting into his. The bustling city around you faded as you focused on the warmth of his firm body. It made you forget all about Sean’s reaction.

“I’m glad you did,” you said, stepping back with a tiny smile. It meant the world that he defended you. “I tried to hold my own.”

“You did. You could've snapped back or walked out, but you didn't. That’s commendable and powerful,” he assured you, his gaze serious. “But I don't care if it’s your boss or a stranger or your best friend, I’m not about to let someone take their frustrations out on you.”

Warmth settled in your chest. You learned something else about Andy today: He truly wouldn't tolerate anyone disrespecting you. He continued to prove that he was a man of his word.

You also experienced firsthand how things worked in his world, how people would bend toward his will. If it was a test, you wouldn’t say you failed since you stood up for yourself. It wouldn’t always be that easy. Whether someone questioned your motives or place with Andy or not, you had to learn to grow a thick skin. Not just for your own benefit, but Andy’s, too.

He needed someone strong by his side.

“Thank you, Andy.”

“And, listen, if you don’t want to work those shifts or if he gives you a hard time-”

“I’ll be fine,” you promised. You doubted Sean would make it a hostile work environment, but you could handle it if there were any issues. “But I think I’d like to go home now.”

Andy blinked and gave you a single nod. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

Is he disappointed at the thought of me ending the day right now?

You smiled as you tugged him in the direction of his car. “I’d also like you to see my place,” you said, his eyebrows shooting up. It surprised you that you offered, too. “It isn't much, but it’s comfortable. Maybe we can order takeout?”

It wasn’t exactly the ideal way to celebrate, but he shared a piece of himself on the drive over. The least you could do was let him see your apartment. And who knew where the evening would take you?

“Only if you’ll let me pay,” he smiled.

“You're not going to let me pay for anything, are you?” You smiled back.

“Not if I can help it,” he replied, opening the car door. “Let's get you home, honey.”

We all need a man like Andy. And what's going to happen at the apartment? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[veryberryjelly]

lines of gold

jake peralta x fem!reader

lyric prompt ; 'closed eyes & closed blinds' - fast times - sabrina carpenter

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ⚜︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

time off was a rarity, and you didnt take it lightly.

both yourself and jake had been racking up some vacation days and had booked a week off 4 months in advance.

and you had been looking forward to the week off since you started talking about it.

a week away from everything, just you and jake.

the two of you had chosen to go to mexico for your vacation. somewhere warm and interesting. you could lounge around all day or go out and do something and that was just perfect for the two of you.

so far, in 2 and a half days, you had just been lounging around in your hotel, enjoying not having to get up every morning and not having any agenda for the day.

day three didnt look like it was going to be any different.

you were woken up by the sun creeping through the blinds you could've sworn you shut before you went to bed last night, but apparently not.

you turned over to avoid the seemly blinding light, and you were met with the sight of your boyfriend in his rumpled morning state.

his curls were a mess onto of his head, his face free of worry, the sunlight dusting over his features to make him look truly angelic.

a smile settled on your lips.

you decided to put aside your thoughts of going back to sleep and instead rested your head onto of your arm as you watched the movement of jake's chest rising and falling.

you couldn't pinpoint how long you had been watching him, but the sun had shifted to brighten his closed eyes by the time he woke up.

he turned towards your body to hide from the light, and instead was met with the stretch of mattress between you.

the cold cotton caused his eyes to squint open in search of the woman he was certain he had fallen asleep beside.

he seemed to relax when he caught sight of you just another two inches over.

" were you watching me sleep ?"

you let a soft laugh huff past your lips.

" no ." you insisted, though you were sure it wasn't convincing.

jake said nothing in retaliation and instead just stretched his arm out to pull you across the gap in the mattress and into his chest.

you didnt resist, instead wrapped your arms around his torso as his lips pressed into your forehead, both of your eyes shielded from the lines of light bleeding through the blinds.

@sparklymazzy @flwrguts123

[wholoveseggs]

Rules {Part Four}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Four

Tonight is the night of the dinner party and tensions are running high. Caught between the love for your family and your own desires, things take a dramatic turn when you make a choice you can't take back.

♡♡ I finally get to write about my #1 favorite TVD moment! The Dinner Partyyy! {the campyiness, the tension, the dramaaaa... Its peak TVD} Hope you enjoy! PS: there will be a part five ♡♡

6.4k words - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, no smut, lots and lots of drama, so much angst, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, secret affair, forbidden romance, Damon being over-protective, finally adding some proper Stefan moments to the plot, Elena being Elena, my sweet angel ♡ ANDIE STARRR ♡ , vervain, tension, violence, john gilbert & chocolate mousse...

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Five}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!

If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123

You sat in front of your vanity, outlining your lips with a deep shade of red, finishing off the look with a dab of gloss.

Damon didn't tell you any details of what he was planning, beyond having a weapon that could kill an Original, which would have seemed absurd if it wasn't your brother. You knew what he was capable of. 

Damon had left not too long ago, telling you he was going to lunch with his girlfriend Andie, and would be back later.

All you knew was that there would be a dinner party tonight and if Elijah showed up, Damon was going to kill him. 

Your phone rang and you glanced over to see Stefan's name on the screen, your pressed speaker, and went back to applying your lipstick.

"Hey," You said, pressing your lips together and checking the color.

"Hello," Stefan replied, sounding a bit tense.

"How's your trip with Elena going?" You asked, grabbing a tube of mascara.

"Well as it can be," he said vaguely.

"I guess you know about the deal then? Elena is willing to die for you, that's very sweet," you said casually, applying the mascara to your eyelashes.

"When did you get so callous? She isn't a martyr, she's just naive," he sighed.

You felt a pang of guilt for teasing him. He was right, Elena was kind and gentle, and both of your brothers loved her.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I know how you feel about her," You said, trying to sound comforting. "It's just that she possesses an unfortunate face,"

Stefan let out a humorless chuckle, and sighed. "Katherine's face,"

"Yeahhhh," you laughed.

"Funny you should mention her, Elena has been reading some old journals written by Johnathan Gilbert," Stefan explained. "It's brought up a lot of memories,"

"Didn't you eat him?" You asked, screwing the cap onto the mascara.

His silence was an answer in and of itself.

"Are you afraid that if Elena learns about your lovely alter-ego she won't love you anymore?" You teased.

"This is serious," he sighed.

"Ok, ok, sorry," You said, standing up and smoothing out your dress. "Always so uptight,"

"Not everyone has it so easy, sister," he grumbled.

"What does that mean?" You asked, your tone slightly offended.

"It's nothing," he sighed.

"No, no. Please, speak your mind," You said, rolling your eyes.

"You've always just been good at it," He began, you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

"At what?" You snapped, pacing around your room.

"Being a vampire," He said bluntly. "You claim to loathe Katherine, yet you aren't that different,"

You didn't know what to say, his words cut you. How dare he compare you to the woman who destroyed your life, turned you and your brothers into monsters. Kept them under her toxic spell while you watched them suffer.

"That's not fair, Stefan," You said softly, feeling hurt and defensive.

"Isn't it?" He asked.

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say, you just stared out the window, the sun shining brightly outside.

"Anyway, I don't have time to debate your morals," Stefan continued. "I'm just calling to tell you to watch out for Damon, killing Elijah won't be easy, he will need your help,"

"And here I thought you didn't trust me," You said, unable to hide the hurt in your voice.

"I trust you more than anyone," he said softly.

You wanted to tell him everything, how guilty and ashamed you felt. You didn't even know why you were feeling these things, Elijah was nothing to you, but you couldn't stop thinking about him, the pain in his eyes, the coldness in his voice, it haunted you.

And now you were going to kill him, Stefan was right... You weren't so different from Katherine.

"Then, trust me when I say, I'll handle it," You said, keeping your tone casual.

"Ok," he said, though his voice sounded hesitant. "Please be careful,"

"I will," you said softly, before ending the call.

You sat down on your bed and pulled on a pair of black velvet pumps. They were tall, and made your legs look amazing. You checked your lipstick and smoothed out your dress, and headed downstairs.

Damon was just arriving home, with Andie in tow. They were carrying bags of groceries, and setting them down in the kitchen.

"Hi, Andie," You smiled.

"Hello darlin," she said, her voice cheery, like always. "Don't tell me that your brother roped you into this mess,"

"Mess?" You asked, raising an eyebrow, giving Damon a questioning look.

"Andie doesn't believe in my abilities to cook," Damon rolled his eyes.

"Damon has a tendency to go overboard with things," she laughed.

Neither of them were actually talking about the cooking. Damon had obviously told her about his plans for the night.

"What are we serving tonight, then?" You asked, giving him a warning look.

"A nice rack of lamb, roasted vegetables, some salad..." Damon trailed off, looking around the kitchen. "Annnd... A dessert that will be sure to knock our guest's socks off,"

You and Andie made eye contact and she smiled, trying not to laugh.

"Sounds lovely, brother," You smiled, reaching out and patting him on the shoulder. "How can I help?"

Damon gave Andie a pointed look and she nodded and left the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone to chat.

"So," he began, as he pulled out a box of matches and lit the burner on the stove. "Change of plans,"

"Change?" You asked, leaning against the counter, crossing your arms.

"I need you to stay upstairs, away from the party," He said, avoiding your eyes.

"What?!" You said, glaring at him. "Why?"

"Because Jenna is coming, and she thinks you are Elena's age... I can't have her asking too many questions," Damon explained.

"That's such bullshit!" You growled, pushing off the counter. "You can't do this on your own,"

"Yes I can," he scoffed.

"So, what? I'm just supposed to stay hidden away in my room, twiddling my thumbs while you try and kill Elijah?" You asked, getting more irritated by the second.

"Yeah, pretty much," He said, his tone casual. "And when it's done you can help me dispose of the body,"

"Are you being fucking serious?" You spat.

"Relax," he chuckled.

"How am I supposed to relax when I know you are going to get yourself killed?!" You asked, throwing your hands in the air.

Damon put down the pan he was holding and turned around, walking over to you and getting in your face, his eyes wild and bright.

"Despite you being a ravenous little killer, you are still my baby sister," he said, his voice soft, but his eyes were still angry. "I was wrong to ask you for help, it's my job to protect you, not put you in harm's way,"

You didn't like this one bit, Damon was stubborn and headstrong, and once his mind was made up, there was no changing it. It infuriated you, the way he saw you as this helpless damsel. Yet, you weren't surprised, he had a tendency to go overboard with things and forget logic. The fact that you were a vampire and could handle yourself was something he often forgot.

You felt humiliated and helpless, and that made you angry, so fucking angry.

"Fuck you," You snapped, turning on your heel, storming out of the kitchen, Damon called after you, but you ignored him, slamming the door to your room shut.

You stood in the middle of the room, feeling a wave of emotion hit you. This wasn't like you, you never let yourself feel like this, so out of control. The last time you felt anything like this was years ago, when you were human.

You hated that feeling, the way your stomach would twist, and your heart would ache. But it wasn't because of Damon... It was because of Elijah.

The sound of the guests arriving floated up to your bedroom. You were sitting on your bed, a glass of wine in hand. You had been drinking all evening, trying to numb the anger, the sadness, and the regret.

The plan was already in motion, there was no stopping it now. Elijah was going to die, and you were told to stay put and let it happen.

You picked up the voices of several familiar people, Alaric, Jenna, Andie, even Elena's estranged father John. All chatting happily, blissfully unaware of your presence upstairs. 

You looked down into your glass, you could see your vague reflection in the dark liquid. You couldn't stand the sight of yourself, the guilt, the shame… it was eating away at you, no longer could you sit there and wallow in it. 

Fuck it, you thought. You finished the glass off with one large gulp and got up, walking over to the full-length mirror.

Your hair was down, the curls flowing down past your breasts, and your makeup was perfect, smoky eyes and deep red lips. All dressed up and nowhere to go, nobody to see.

You headed down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible, peeking through the railing on the stairs to see if anyone was there.

Then you heard Elijah's voice, it was hushed and cold, and the words were unintelligible, but it was him, and your heart skipped a beat.

You inched closer, straining your ears, desperate to hear more.

"Can I just say that if you have less than honorable intentions about how this evening is going to proceed, I suggest you reconsider."

His tone was dark and threatening, and you knew Damon would be on the receiving end.

"No, nothing, nothing dishonorable. Just getting to know you," Damon replied, and you could picture his cocky smile.

"Hmm. Well, that's good," Elijah sounded skeptical, and you could hear him walking inside and closing the door.

"Because, you know, although Elena and I have this deal, if you so much as make a move to cross me, I'll kill you and I'll kill everyone in this house. Are we clear?" Elijah's tone was firm and unwavering, and you could sense the tension.

You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves, and walked down the stairs. Your feet a bit wobbly in your heels, the wine was catching up with you.

Everyone was looking at you by the time you got to the bottom, and you were sure your face was flushed, your cheeks pink. But all you could see was Elijah. His dark eyes watching you, and your heart was racing. Surely he wouldn't kill you in front of all these people.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to join us," Damon chuckled nervously, walking up to you and putting his arm around your shoulder, squeezing you forcefully. "This isn't a party for teenagers, sweet sister,"

The tension was thick, and it was clear that Damon didn't want you there.

"I just wanted to come say hello, I was getting bored upstairs," You said casually, pulling away from him.

"Oh, c'mon Damon, it's alright. She can stay for the food," said Jenna, giving you a warm smile. She was so kind, you didn't want to see her get hurt.

"No, really. She should be going, right sis?" Damon said, glaring at you.

"No, I think I'm gonna stay, I was promised dinner, after all," You replied, meeting his eyes, defiance shining in them.

Elijah cleared his throat, stepping towards you and Damon, his face neutral. "Nice to meet you Miss Salvatore," he took your hand and kissed it, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

Damon was looking at Elijah like he wanted to rip his throat out, and you had to resist the urge to smirk.

"And you, Mr. Smith," You replied, trying to hide your amusement.

Elijah gave you a knowing look, and a small smile formed on his lips.

"Call me Elijah," He replied, still holding your hand.

"Elijah, then," You nodded, a shiver running down your spine as his thumb traced your wrist.

You had no idea why he was acting so casual, he had to know this was a trap, and he was just standing there, touching you.

"Ok, now that everyone knows each other, let's eat," Andie cut in, leading everyone to the dining room.

Before you could follow, Damon grabbed your arm and pulled you aside, his expression one of pure rage.

"What are you doing?" Damon growled.

"Having dinner," You said, pushing him off and brushing past him, walking into the dining room.

The only empty seat available was next to Elijah, who grew stiff when you approached him.

"Is this ok?" You asked, smiling sweetly.

He nodded, pulling the chair out for you, and pushing it back in once you were seated, always the gentleman.

Everyone was seated, and the dinner party was in full swing. Jenna and Andie asked Elijah all about the local history of Mystic Falls, and he bullshitted his way through, telling them stories of the old families that founded the town, local folklore tales, and other nonsense.

Elijah seemed to relax a bit, although he was purposely avoiding looking or speaking to you, his gaze focused elsewhere. But every once in a while you could feel his hand brush yours under the table, making your skin tingle.

You were drinking wine like it was water, and you could feel the effect it was having on you. The world was fuzzy, and everything was so funny. You would giggle or let out an inappropriate snort whenever Elijah would talk, and your face was flush and hot.

"Not to be a party pooper but aren't you a little young to be drinking?" John Gilbert said, looking at you, his eyes narrowing.

You glared at him, raising an eyebrow, he knew that you were a vampire, four times his age no less. But you weren't about to argue in front of sweet and innocent Jenna, who had no clue about the existence of the monsters she was surrounded by.

"She can have a glass, as her guardian I allow it," Damon said casually, not bothering to look up from his plate.

"Ahh, I see, I suppose the rules are a bit more lax when you have Damon as a parent," John added, his expression bitter and cold.

"I think she's had more than a glass," Andie said softly, her tone was concerned as she looked you over.

You felt Elijah's hand come to rest on your thigh under the table, it made your heart skip a beat and Damon look up from his plate.

"She's fine," Damon said, his tone final.

The other guests exchanged awkward glances, Alaric cleared his throat uncomfortably and Jenna and Andie both had worried expressions on their faces.

Elijah's hand was moving higher up your thigh, and it was making your face flush, and you were starting to get wet.

You had no idea why he was touching you, considering he wanted to kill you. But you supposed there is a fine line between lust and loathing.

As soon as everyone finished their meal, Andie got up and Damon gave her a pointed look, whatever he had planned had just begun.

"The gentlemen should take their drinks in the study," she said, giving everyone a smile, her gaze lingering on Elijah.

"I have to say the food was almost as wonderful as the company," Elijah said, smiling at her, and standing up.

"I like you," Andie said softly, returning his smile.

You watched as the men left, Damon looked back at you before he followed them, giving you a wink, and closing the door.

You were fuming, the wine making you angrier than usual, you went to follow but Andie intercepted you, handing you a pile of plates.

Sighing, you reluctantly carried them to the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher, not wanting to draw too much attention.

"Here, let me help," Jenna smiled, taking the glasses from your hands.

"It's fine," You said, forcing a smile.

"Come, drink some water, your face is flushed," Andie said, handing you a glass.

"No more for you," John added, pouring the leftover wine down the drain.

You scowled at all three of them, lecturing you like you were a child. They had no idea what you were capable of, the things you've done. They wouldn't treat you like this if they did.

You took the water, glaring at them, and chugged it, setting the glass down with a little more force than necessary.

Alaric came rushing into the kitchen with a wild look in his eye. He made eye contact with you, and he was out of breath.

"We forgot dessert!" He said, sounding panicked.

"What?" Andie asked, confused.

"Dessert!" Alaric repeated, his body practically vibrating with fear.

Whatever was going on, it definitely wasn't about dessert.

"I can make a chocolate mousse...?" Jenna began, trailing off, looking at Alaric with confusion.

"Perfect! Let's go tell Damon and Elijah," Alaric said in a rush, motioning to Andie who gave him a questioning look but followed him out.

"What is going on?" Jenna asked, turning to you, her eyes wide.

"No idea," You lied, shrugging, hoping to sound convincing.

As soon as Jenna had her back turned, you slipped out of the kitchen and headed for the dining room.

Everyone had already returned, and the tension was palpable. Alaric looked stressed and Damon was smirking, which was a sure sign of a disaster.

Damon and John were seated on opposite ends of the table, glaring at each other, while Elijah sat in center. Andie and Alaric were behind him, rummaging through her bag for some reason.

"What I'd like to know, Elijah, is how do you intend on killing Klaus?" John said sharply, looking over his wine glass at him.

It seemed that the dinner party discussions had finally turned to the real business at hand, you inched into the room quietly, trying not to draw any attention.

"Gentlemen, there's a few things we should probably get clear right now. I allow you to live solely to keep an eye on Elena. I allow Elena to remain in her house living her life with her friends as she does as a courtesy. If you become a liability, I'll take her away from you and you'll never see her again." Elijah's eyes flickered to you, but only for a second.

Before Damon or John had a chance to respond, Andie returned with her notebook in hand, sitting down across from Elijah, ready to interview him, "Okay. My first question is when you got here to Mystic..."

Suddenly, time seemed to slow down, you watched Alaric approach Elijah from behind, an ornate looking dagger in his hand, ready to stab him in the back.

You moved without thinking, lunging at Alaric, wrapping your hand around his wrist and snapping it with ease, causing the dagger to fall to the floor with a clatter.

Alaric crumbled to the floor in pain, looking up at you in shock.

The room suddenly exploded into action, dark veins spread beneath Elijah's eyes, and he lunged at Damon, knocking him over the table and onto the ground, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him into the air, his eyes ablaze.

John grabbed Andie, pulling her out of the way, while Alaric crawled along the floor, cradling his wrist.

You grabbed Elijah's arm, trying to pry him off of Damon.

"Don't! Let him go!" You shouted, struggling against him, his muscles were tensed, and his grip was tight, he wasn't budging.

Elijah looked over his shoulder at you, his dark eyes cold and angry. You gave him a pleading look, trying to convey how important it was that he listened.

"Please, he's my brother, please don't hurt him," You said, your voice breaking as your tears began to flow.

He dropped Damon, who fell to the floor with a thud, coughing and sputtering.

Elijah looked around the room at all the frightened faces, then to the floor where the dagger was lying and picked it up, examining it.

"Clever boy," Elijah looked at Alaric, shaking his head and tsking. "I haven't seen one of these in quite some time,"

He moved to attack Alaric but you jumped in front of him, shielding him with your body.

"Please don't kill him," You pleaded, putting your hands on his chest, trying to push him back.

He was immovable, but his gaze softened when his eyes met yours and he put the dagger in his jacket pocket. His eyes went back to Damon, who was still on the floor, glaring at him.

"Please, don't hurt anyone," You repeated, your hand moving to his hair, running your fingers through it.

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, his shoulders sagging, the tension leaving his body.

"Get away from my sister," Damon snarled, his voice rough from being choked.

Elijah looked at Damon, giving him a wicked smile and wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him, your face pressed against his chest.

"Oh, she doesn't mind," Elijah smirked, looking at Damon with smug satisfaction.

Damon looked from you to Elijah, his expression a mixture of disbelief and pure rage. His brain couldn't quite compute what he was seeing.

"What did I say?" Elijah began, pausing to pretend he was pondering, "Oh yes! If you so much as make a move to cross me, I'll kill you and I'll kill everyone in this house,"

Your hands curled into his shirt, tugging on it, looking at him pleadingly. His dark eyes went to yours, and his gaze softened, he kissed you on the cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

"Fortunately for you, your lovely sister has been most gracious in her hospitality," He said, looking over your head at Damon.

You were visibly shaken up, looking at your brother with tear filled eyes, your hands trembling against Elijah's chest. He lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him instead of your devastated looking brother.

"So much for rule one," he said quietly, kissing the corner of your mouth.

Damon was seething, his fists clenched, and he was practically shaking with anger.

"Now, I hate to cut this evening short, but it seems I've overstayed my welcome," Elijah sighed, pulling away from you, his tone neutral.

"And as for you. Let me be perfectly clear, if you, or anyone else, attempt something like this again, I will kill you. No mercy. Understood?" Elijah asked, looking directly at Damon.

"Yes," Damon said, his voice dripping with venom.

"Wonderful. Now, I think it's time for me to take my leave," Elijah turned and began to walk out, "I'll be in touch," he called over his shoulder.

As soon as Elijah left, all eyes were on you. Damon's angry glare made you squirm, and the disgusted expressions from Andie, Alaric and John made you feel deep shame. You needed to get out of there.

But before you could , Damon grabbed you, the speed blowing your hair back. His hand went to your neck and he threw you against the wall, his fingers crushing your windpipe.

"Are you crazy? You’re fucking Elijah? ELIJAH?" He yelled right in your face, his rage so uncontrolled he lashed out and hit the wall beside your head, causing the plaster to crack and break.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He continued, his eyes wild, spit flying from his mouth.

"Damon," Andie said softly, stepping forward to calm him. John held her back, helping Alaric to his feet and pulling them both out of the room. John knew better than to get between Damon and his wrath.

"How did this happen? How did he get to you?" He shook you harder, causing the plaster dust to rain down. "Did he compel you? I told you to drink vervain every day!"

You kneed him in the stomach, forcing him to drop you, and you gasped for air.

"No! He didn't compel me, he would never," You snapped, rubbing your neck. "I...I care for him,"

Damon stared at you, his breathing ragged, and his expression completely blank. Then he started to laugh, it was devoid of any warmth, it was all bitterness and mockery.

"Care for him? What is he, your boyfriend? Did he ask you to go steady in-between planning Elena's murder?" Damon sneered.

"That's not fair," You said, scowling, folding your arms. 

"So he's the reason you've been so distant? The reason you've been acting so weird? What, he's using you to get to Elena, isn't he?" Damon was pacing back and forth, his hands in his hair.

"No... We never discus-" You tried to explain.

"This is unbelievable," He groaned, cutting you off, and walking over to the liquor cart, pouring himself a drink, then he froze.

"Please tell me you didn't fuck him in this house," he said, his voice dangerously low.

"Not exactly...," You trailed off, averting your gaze, biting your lip.

Damon downed his drink and smashed the glass against the wall, "Fuck, Y/N, do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I had a plan! Everything just spiraled out of control," You said, your voice shaking, feeling overwhelmed and frustrated. "I tried... I tried to steal the moonstone, for you! For us! He caught me and... and I was stupid. I'm sorry.”

"So you thought you could pull a honeypot on an original?" Damon looked completely dumbfounded, and a little impressed. "Are you insane? Or just dumb?"

His words cut you deeply, mostly because they were the same things you had said to yourself, a million times.

"I thought it would work," You shrugged, your arms dropping, you were feeling defeated.

"And I suppose letting him fuck you was an added bonus, huh?" Damon shot back.

"Yes!" You screamed, frustrated, throwing your hands up. "I like him, Damon! He's interesting and attractive and he treats me like an equal!"

Damon snorted, "Because he thinks you're a slut."

That stung, he had never called you that before and tears sprang to your eyes. You glared at him, as they began to spill down your cheeks. You were done arguing with him, and you were done listening to him. He didn't understand, and you had nothing more to say.

Without another word, you pulled the dagger out of your bra, you had managed to remove it from Elijah's pocket without anyone noticing. You threw it at the floor at Damon's feet and stormed off.

Damon looked at the dagger, his brow furrowed, then back up at the spot you had just occupied, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had made you cry.

You ran to your room and crawled under the covers, letting all your pent up emotions flow out of you, coming out in gasps and hiccups. You had no idea what to do, you didn't want to choose between your family and Elijah. You didn't want to be forced to pick a side. 

You didn't want to have to give up what you felt when you were around him.

You didn't know how.

It had been a few hours since the disastrous dinner party. You were still laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the events over and over again in your mind.

You heard Damon leave not long after your argument. You had no idea where he ran off too. Knowing him, he went to find more trouble. Part of you regretted the fight, the other part of you wanted to strangle him.

You were exhausted, physically and emotionally. It was like every single part of your being was weighed down.

Just then you heard a loud commotion downstairs, the voices of your brothers and Elena floated up to you. There was a strange scraping sound, like they were dragging something heavy across the floor.

You quickly got up to investigate, hopping down the stairs, stopping suddenly in front of a very nervous looking Elena.

"What happened?" You asked, trying to look past her to your brothers.

"Damon told me what happened," She said softly, reaching out to touch you. But you spotted a pair of legs being dragged away towards the stairs leading to the basement.

Your eyes went wide as you figured out whose legs they were. Panic swept over you, and you pushed past Elena and rushed to the basement after them.

Stefan and Damon were throwing Elijah's body into the cell, he looked gray and cold, the dagger sticking out of his chest.

"Elijah! No, no, no," You cried, screaming and trying to get past your brothers. But they were too strong for you, holding you back, and quickly closing the gates.

"Let me go!" You punched at Damon's chest, desperate to get inside the cell, tears streaming down your face.

Damon just held you, refusing to release you, your screams filling the small basement.

Stefan locked the door, following you and Damon upstairs. You were kicking and fighting like a crazy woman, begging them to let you see him.

Once you made it upstairs, Stefan grabbed you and held you in his arms, still you fought and cried for him, despite his pleas for you to stop.

"Please calm down," Stefan begged, holding onto you tightly.

"He came to take Elena, we had no choice," Damon said, his voice sounding tired, like this had been an exhausting evening for him.

"He promised me he wouldn't," You said, your voice cracking, your throat raw.

"He lied, Y/N, that's what he does," Damon replied, sounding exasperated.

"Shut up!" You screamed, jerking out of Stefan's arms and rushing at Damon, your fist connecting with the side of his face. "You did this! He wouldn't have done anything if you hadn't provoked him!"

You managed to hit him twice, splitting his lip, before Stefan grabbed you again, pulling you back.

"Knock it off!" Stefan said sharply, giving you a firm shake. You stopped struggling for a moment, panting.

Elena came and stood next to Damon, looking more sad than angry. She wasn't sure what to say, or what to do in this situation.

"I love him Stefan, please," you begged, sniffling. It was the first time you could admit it out loud, to anyone, to yourself and you wished it was Elijah you could have told first. "You have to let me see him, even if he's dead...I just have to see him."

Your words cut through Stefan's heart. Trembling in his arms, he had never seen you so distraught and in pain. He looked over your head at Damon and Elena, silently asking for permission.

"Fine, I'll take you, but only because you'll probably burn the house down if I don't," Damon said, rolling his eyes.

Stefan let you go and you immediately ran down the stairs, your feet skidding slightly on the concrete floor. You rushed into the cell and fell to your knees beside Elijah's body.

"lijah," you said softly, trying to coax him out of sleep.

He was gray, covered in dark veins, his skin felt cold. Your fingers trembled as you touched his face, your fingers running through his hair.

You laid down next to him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the lack of heartbeat. You lay there for a few minutes, crying to yourself.

You could feel Damon watching you, and it pissed you off.

"Please leave me alone," You said softly, your voice breaking, not bothering to turn and look at him.

Damon was standing there, leaning against the wall, his arms folded, and he looked at you thoughtfully.

"He's dangerous, and he's using you," Damon replied.

"He never learned anything from me!" You snapped, glaring at him, the anger boiling over. "We had an agreement, an understanding! It wasn't like that!"

Damon shook his head, and looked away from you.

"You can't be in love with him. You barely know him." Damon was trying his hardest to get you to see sense.

"Maybe, maybe I'm not," You lied, sniffling, "I just feel like there's something there, something real and I've never felt this way before,"

Damon let out an exasperated sigh, and closed his eyes.

"This will end badly, I'm not going to try and convince you anymore. You're too damn stubborn," He said, opening his eyes and looking down at you.

"Can you bring me a blanket and pillow?" You asked, changing the subject.

"No," Damon said, turning on his heel and leaving the basement.

"Asshole," You muttered, moving back to rest your head against his chest.

A few minutes later, Stefan came down the stairs, carrying a blanket and a pillow, and a bottle of bourbon.

"Thanks," You smiled weakly, taking the blanket and covering yourself with it. You took the pillow and gently lifted Elijah's head, placing the pillow underneath him.

"Is he really dead?" You asked quietly, not looking at Stefan, staring at Elijah's face.

Stefan let out a long sigh, he hated seeing you like this, the sight of you curled up next to a corpse was not a normal one.

I'm not entirely sure," he knelt down, crossing his legs and he sat on the floor next to you. "but he isn't alive either, he's frozen, asleep,"

He reached out and touched your shoulder, turning you to look at him.

"Damon wants to keep him on ice, he doesn't trust Elijah and... neither do I," he tried to say it gently, wanting you to know the truth. "if you wake him up, he will kill us for what we've done... Elena tricked him... He will not be happy,"

"Maybe he will forgive us," you said, looking at him with hopeful eyes, "what if he can feel everything? He must be so scared and lonely,"

"Do you really think he can feel fear?" Stefan asked, raising an eyebrow. "My impression of him is that he isn't the type,"

"He has a big heart, under all that arrogance," you smiled softly, touching his face, brushing the hair from his forehead. "Kinda like someone we know,"

"You've got it bad," Stefan shook his head, a little bit in awe of your feelings. "I've never seen you like this, not with any other guy."

You looked over at him, his expression was a mix of worry and sadness.

"Do you hate me? For loving him?" You asked, a knot forming in your stomach.

"No, never," he said, pulling you into his arms. "I'm worried, and scared... But I could never hate you. Ever."

"I can convince him Stefan, I can get him on our side, I know I can," you said, feeling the tears come back.

"And if you can't?" He asked, rubbing your back.

"Then... Then... I don't know..." You said, a sob choking you, unable to speak.

Stefan hated himself for what he had to do next, but it was the only way he could think to keep everyone safe.

While you were still in his arms, he pulled out a syringe and jabbed it in your neck, pushing the liquid vervain in. It was a large dose and it took about three seconds before you passed out.

He caught you before you slumped to the ground, lifting your sleeping body and carrying you upstairs.

Damon and Elena were waiting anxiously, eager to hear that Stefan had been able to talk you down from freeing Elijah.

"Is she ok?" Elena moved forward, "Did she try anything?"

"She had a bit of a melt down," Stefan said honestly, he placed you on the couch, ensuring you were tucked in and comfortable.

"What can we do to make sure she doesn't help him?" Damon asked, leaning on the doorway, unable to come closer to you. The sight of you like this broke his heart. "she's been completely brainwashed by the guy,"

"She loves him Damon," Elena said softly, walking over to him, laying her hand on his arm.

"Don't say that," he groaned, covering his face. "That makes it worse. She has to get over it."

"I don't think it works that way," Elena said gently, squeezing his arm.

"We have to keep her away from him," Damon explained, his hands dropping, he was looking at Elena now. "It's too risky."

"That will be impossible," Stefan said, shaking his head, "she's more stubborn than you, she won't give up until she has her way."

"So what do we do?" Elena asked, glancing between them.

"The only way I can think of is to keep her sedated, until I find a way to kill him for good," Damon said, his tone matter-of-fact.

"No, Damon.. that's not right," Elena protested, looking to Stefan to back her up.

Stefan couldn't meet her gaze, instead he turned away, "We don't have any other options."

"So we are just going to knock her out? That's cruel!" Elena said, feeling very disappointed.

"Got any better ideas?" Damon snapped, kneeling down in front of you. He placed his hand on your forehead, "I can't let her wake him up, he will kill us all,"

Elena sighed, shaking her head.

"She will hate us for doing this," Stefan said, not liking the idea one bit, but it was the best they had.

"Yeah, well, I can handle that," Damon shrugged, and picked you up in his arms.

He carried you to your room, gently placing you on the bed, pulling the covers up over your body. He sat next to you, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"You'll understand, eventually," He said softly, stroking your hair, before standing up and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly.

You were trapped in some sort of nightmare, everything around you was completely dark. You couldn't even see your hand in front of your face. You had no idea where you were, what was up or what was down.

You were calling out for help, your voice echoing back to you, but no one else was there.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you, it was warm, familiar and safe. You were drawn to it and you reached out, trying to find the source of it.

You heard the sound of a man laughing, it was a wild, maniacal laugh.

You started running, your feet hitting the ground hard, you couldn't breathe, but you didn't stop. The laughter kept coming, getting louder and louder.

Then the sound of a woman screaming nearly knocked you off your feet, but you kept going until you ran into something solid.

It was the edge of a coffin, made of wood etched with an ornate symbol on the top, a crest of some sort. Your fingers traced over it, feeling the deep grooves. It was the letter 'M', carved into a shield.

Finally, your hands found the lid, and you pushed, straining to open it. What was inside was three rings of fire, you could feel the heat on your face, the smoke making it hard to breathe.

The rings were getting closer, or you were falling into them, you couldn't tell. The screams became deafening. You were overwhelmed with intense anxiety, unable to move as you stared into the flames.

Then everything stopped.

And you woke up.

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Five}

[taasgirl]

girlfriend, or girl that's a friend? - trent alexander arnold

summary: y/n is klopps duaghter and is in a cheeky relationship with mr arnold

liked by virgilvandijk, taylorhinds, maryearps, and 35, 928 others ynusername i bleed red

trentarnold66 I think everyone bleeds red, love

user56783 Y/N is so incredibly real for that second slide

dominikszoboszlai Surely you leak the starting lineup for next week

user01382 Y/N IS THE MOMENTTTTT

user45292 she's so incredibly real

taylorhinds my bb

ynusername TAYLORRRRR

liked by liverpoolfc, virgilvandijk, andyrobertson, and 338, 012 others trentarnold66 New kits are freshhhh #dad

ynusername minecraft?

user69132 y/n saying what everyone's thinking

ynusername why are there more photos of u and my dad than me and him??

liverpoolfc 🔥🔥

liked by alemacallister, missybokearns, sadiomane, and 44, 291 others ynusername yk its bad when gameday is the only day out

user82031 aww soft launch

liverpoolfc Up the Y/N

leahwilliamson god y/n you can tie ur own laces

ynusername can you tie the other one for me

user05682 y/n don't post about liverpool challenge go! liked by ynusername

liked by user66293, user79281, user91320, and 376 others user17320 my honest reaction to THAT photo of trent...

user80131 real

ynusername guys trust I was as shocked as u

user63821 When u find out the deets, let us know

liked by liverpoolfcw, firmino, virgilvandijk, and 3, 892, 036 others liverpoolfc From the archive... Our 2019/2020 Prem win 🤩

trentarnold66 😍😍

ynusername what a day

user60120 there's not one photo where trent looks bad in liked by ynusername

liked by harveyelliot, mosalah, leahwilliamson, and 33, 809 others ynusername atp my phone is harvey's phone too.

harveyelliott The way that this isn't even a fraction of them 🤣

trentarnold66 Where's our selfie @ harveyelliott??

user56283 bless darwin he looks so shocked 😭😭

liked by ynusername, judebellingham, niko, and 549, 730 others trentarnold66 Life as of late.

chunkz My boyyyyy 🔥

user02391 WHO THE FUCKKKKK

ynusername JUMPSCARE

user68293 there is so much in this dump to unpack...

liked by dominikszoboszlai, sadiomane, trentaronld66, and 47, 287 others ynusername king of my heart, body and soul

trentarnold66 woah pda 🚨

ynusername can you stfu???

user69323 y/n and trent soft launching their partners rn i cant

dominikszoboszlai Cuties

liked by virgilvandij, liverpoolfc, ynusername, and 293, 736 others andyrobertson Mi familia

user79213 SORRY???? IS THAT Y/N AND TRENT??

ynusername ANDREW

user02831 huh?

liked by pedri, lottewubbenmoy, darwinnunes, and 66, 872 others ynusername since everyone was so curious @ trentarnold66

trentarnold66 hey baby

user23392 This disgusts me (i'm actually v happy)

andyrobertson IM SORRY

liked by ynusername, dominikszoboszlai, gavi, and 2, 763, 932 others trentarnold66 Finally this soft launch thing is over

trentarnold66 She's so pretty

user61932 the way he commented this on his own post

ynusername 🩷

user76302 my question is - how does klopp feel about this???

put in reqs! i'm working on 'say something pt4' so stay tunned. lmk if you liked this!

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | sex shop

pairing | sex shop owner!andy barber x innocent!reader

warnings | age gap (reader sees andy as a total dilf.) reader is very innocent and also so scared to be there (understandably.) soft!andy, comforting vibes, he talks her through everything. humiliation kink is strong in this one. no real smut, just suggestive themes (sex shop, toys, talks of solo and guided masturbation.)

word count | 987

an | this little story is dedicated to andy's #1 girl, @worksby-d 🥺 dest i super hope you enjoy our favorite dilf here!! i tried to make him the big warm teddy bear we know and love, with a little hint of naughtiness shining through at the end hehe <3 happy holidays to you friend!!

imagine going to a sex shop for the very first time, aalllll by yourself, and meeting a very handsome dilf who helps you pick out your very first big girl toy 😏

parking as far away as possible (it’s at the end of a little strip mall in a tiny little town you’ve never been to before, you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone you knew!) spending like 10 minutes just sitting in your car hyping yourself up, you’re so nervous but you’ve wanted to do this for so long 🥺

eventually you build up your courage and make your way up the parking lot, to the front door of the place. a little silvery bell rings as you enter. you’re surprised at how clean and neat the place is. you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is better than you had been hoping. it’s not too big, a single large room with a counter in the middle. at first glance, you're alone, no other customers or employees in sight

the store has different sections with hanging signs directing you where to go. you can feel heat rising in your cheeks as you pass the racks of lingerie and intimates. just as you make it over to the toys for her section, you hear something from across the little shop. looking over, you see someone has entered through a doorway in the back. a man, but you don’t get too long of a look. your eyes quickly drop to the ground as you feel your embarrassment worsening

please don’t come over here. please don’t come over here. please don’t-

your silent prayers are ignored as footsteps approach. you take a step back from the wall of products, forcing yourself to look up at the stranger. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him, oh god, you’re thinking to yourself, why is he hot 😭

there andy stands in all of his glory, the epitome of dilfy deliciousness with his worn navy t-shirt and scruffy beard. scratching his head a bit awkwardly, he greets you, “hey, sorry. didn’t meant to startle you. can i help you find anything?”

your heart’s pounding in your throat as you look around stupidly before your eyes return to the absolute unit of a man before you. you blink like a deer in the headlights. oh my god. he works here, you’re a little slow to put things together

andy sees your surprise, letting out a gentle chuckle. “i’m the owner,” he explains. “you okay, honey? you look like you’ve seen a ghost”

a part of you knows this is an extremely sketchy situation. you’re alone in a sex shop with a dude probably twice your age (who apparently owns the place), out in a town you can’t remember the name of, with nothing to defend yourself except your two bare hands (which are now shaking)

but there’s something about the man before you that you just find so… warm? disarming? (…attractive? 😳) the gentle smile on his face, the way he softens his voice when he senses your nervousness...

you’re a little ball of conflicting feelings, half nerves and half head-over-heels for this unknown man. again, you blink, unable to find your voice to respond

“you’re alright, just take it easy,” he tries to help you relax. “this your first time in a place like this?” all you can manage is a nod. he gives you an understanding smile, “that’s perfectly fine. i’m here to help. can you tell me what you’re looking for, sweetheart?”

your eyes glance quickly back at the wall of toys in front of you before returning to him. he must see the increasing humiliation on your face. “u-um…” you’re finally able to stutter, “i-i don’t… i’m not… i guess i'm…”

he’s so patient and attentive it’s only making the butterflies in your tummy worse 😭 “not sure where to start?” he finishes for you. when you nod, he hums thoughtfully, “that’s okay, honey. do you have anything already that you like? is this for you to use on your own?"

you grit your teeth, nodding through the waves of embarrassment. “d-don’t have anything, sir. looking for something to start out with”

“i see,” he nods, looking over the selection on the wall before the two of you. “a bullet is a great beginner toy. simple, quiet, different levels of intensity to fit your needs. do you like clitoral stimulation?”

you have to fight yourself to keep from rubbing your thighs together right then and there 😩 something about the way he’s talking you through everything is sooo 🥲🥲 a feeling of dread hits as you realize you’re already getting wet

you force out a nod. he looks at a few options before picking out a small, discreet box. offering it to you, he explains, “this one’s my favorite. it’s nice and smooth, hard to hurt yourself with. rechargeable, medical-grade silicon. six levels of intensity. and the pink matches your nails,” he says sweetly, nodding at the shiny polish on the tips of your fingers

you clumsily accept the box, looking it over briefly. “there are instructions on the inside. the internet can be helpful too,” he suggests. the burning in your tummy worsens as he sees right through you, sniffing your complete innocence and inexperience with ease

“o-okay. this looks good. thank you,” you agree

“of course,” he nods with a sheepish smile. “once you get comfortable with that, we can work you up to something more sophisticated” you never implied that you’d be returning to him, but now that he’s said it, you know you couldn’t refuse. “and if you have any trouble, you can always come see me. i got a room in the back, we can take some time and find what works for you”

i might have to write that follow-up visit someday this is making me 🫠🫠

[hutchersonsgurl]

that thick beard OH WOW

[cevansbrat0007]

What's Eating You, Mr. Barber?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to check out Ari Levinson's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Andrew Barber Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Bickering, Manhandling, Ass Slapping, Daddy Kink, Allusions to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Andrew Barber from my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s hard for you to put into words just how much you love playing pranks on your unsuspecting husband. And after downloading TikTok, you’d discovered that the app was home to an online treasure trove of practical jokes designed to make your loved one’s head spin. While it had taken a few days for you to settle on the right prank, you were pretty confident that the one you’d chosen would earn you a fun reaction from Andy without you having to risk your ass in the process. 

You find yourself grinning as you take your time prepping dinner, humming a little tune as you peel and press even more fresh garlic for your homemade tomato sauce. Tonight’s family dinner of spaghetti and meatballs promised to be very interesting. Which was why you’d also taken the liberty of setting up two hidden cameras – one in the dining room and one right here in your kitchen. 

As of now, you had no plans to post this on your channel. But you also didn’t want to miss a minute of your man’s reaction. Until then all you had to do was play it cool for a couple more hours.

Later that Evening…

“Baby Girl, are you sure you don’t need any help?” Your husband asks after watching you make what easily had to be your third trip from the kitchen into the dining room. 

Any other night you would’ve said yes, but not this one. Tonight you were flying solo. The cameras were already on and recording – you’d taken care of that before you’d started setting the table – and so far Andy hadn’t noticed a thing.

Hopefully you’d be able to keep it that way until it was time for the big reveal. 

“No thanks, Big Man. This Mama only has to make one more trip and then we’ll be ready to eat.”  You tell him before sitting two plates on the table in front of your two youngest children. You were down a kid tonight thanks to your oldest, Bianca, being away at a sleepover.  

Andy nods before leaning over to adjust the small hand towel you’d previously tucked into the front of your three-year-old son’s t-shirt. Not that it really mattered all that much since you were positive he’d be swimming in sauce before the meal was over. But what kind of mother would you be if you didn’t at least try?

Biting your lip in anticipation, you scamper back into the kitchen to grab dinner for you and your husband. Andy’s plate was piled high with a generous serving of spaghetti and meatballs. Meanwhile, you give yourself hardly any. 

And therein was the so-called prank. Earlier this week, you’d spent the better part of several hours gleefully watching as dozens of girlfriends and wives proceeded to serve their man impressive looking portions before sitting next to them with virtually empty plates for themselves. Many of the reactions had ranged from hilarious to heartwarming, with only a few dickish exceptions. 

Glancing over your shoulder to ensure you weren’t being watched, you pick up various pans and quietly place them in your oven and out of sight. For this to actually work, Andy would have to believe that there wasn’t enough for seconds or leftovers. Once that’s done, you square your shoulders and confidently march back into the dining room with dishes in hand. 

“I’m back.” You announce, placing a piping hot plate in front of Andy before taking your own seat at the table. “I tried something different with my sauce this time, so everybody dig in and tell me what you think.” 

Andy absentmindedly rubs his palms together as he stares down at the fragrant heap of spaghetti before him. Silently, you will him to look over at what you’d served yourself, but you force yourself to remain quiet so as not to give yourself away. 

“This smells amazing, sweetheart.” Your husband tells you, reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “I’ve been excited for this meal since you told me you texted me at 10:00am.”

“Glad to hear it, Daddy” You pick up the little bowl of parmesan you’d set out and hand it to your middle daughter, Katrina. “What does everybody else think?”

You take a brief glance around the table while you wait for feedback. And although you make a point of not looking at your husband, it’s impossible to miss the way he’s now staring at your nearly empty plate.

“Ooh.” You inwardly squeal, stopping just short of clapping your hands. “It’s starting!” 

“What’s up with this?” His tone is rife with confusion, which only grows when you decide to ignore him in favor of dipping a small piece of bread into some sauce. “Hey – stop!”

“What?” When you finally deign to return his gaze. You have to choke back a laugh as you watch a bewildered Andy comically gesture between your two plates.

“What the fu–fudge,” he swiftly corrects, “is going on with your plate?”

“What do you mean?” You aim to keep your tone light and breezy.

Your husband lets out a frustrated sigh. “Where’s the rest of your food?” He jabs at your plate with his fork, holding up the half of a meatball you’d allowed yourself.

“This was all that was left.” You tell him with a shrug.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His confusion continues to mount even as pauses long enough to grab a napkin to wipe at his son’s increasingly messy fingers. “There was plenty of spaghetti left on the stove.” While he’s occupied you quickly check on little Rory, who appears to be faring slightly better.

“Not really.” 

“Baby…” Andy pins you with a knowing look, one that you readily return.

“What? I…” You trail off, pretending to think. “After I realized BiBi wouldn’t be here tonight, I made some adjustments to the recipe. Turns out I didn’t make enough, so…” Another shrug. “This was all there was after I made everyone else’s plates.” 

Andy is uncharacteristically quiet as leans back in his chair. Meanwhile, your children are busy staring at you, each of them sporting tiny, furrowed brows. Pursing your lips, you set your fork down on your plate and reach for your drink. 

“You can have some of mine, Mama.” KitCat offers before sweetly pushing her plate towards you. The unexpected gesture touches your heart in more ways than one. Not to be outdone, your three-year-old twins also follow suit. 

“That’s okay, babies. I’m perfectly fine.” You reassure them, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Besides, this is all I need and –”

“Thanks kiddos.” Your husband kindly interrupts as he places his napkin on the table. “That was very sweet of you, wanting to take care of your Mama like that.” His brilliant blue eyes beam with pride as he speaks. “But Daddy’s got this one.” 

You’re momentarily taken aback when he stands, picking up his plate as he does. And you’re even more surprised when he motions for you to do the same.

“Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?”

“Andrew, sweetheart, it’s okay. I promise.”

“Now, please.” It’s an order, that much you know. But at least your handsome ogre has enough sense to take on the word “please” at the end of it.      

“Fine.” You huff before standing and following him out of the room, although not before encouraging your children to keep eating while you’re gone. Just because it was Friday doesn’t mean it was time to dispense their normal bedtime routines.

You were only playing a prank, not embracing total anarchy. 

Once in the kitchen, you each take up residence in opposing corners. But of course, you’re careful enough to avoid blocking the view of the camera. 

“Baby Girl.” Andy exhales, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you really mean to tell me that there’s no food left? You really made all that pasta and there’s nothing?”

“Yes, Andrew.” You lie without missing a beat. “I already told you. I trimmed down the recipe because –”

“Because Bianca is gone. Yes, I heard you.” He sets his dish down on the counter, openly scrutinizing it. 

“So then what’s the problem?” You rest your back against your pantry while you wait for him to respond. 

“The problem – my problem –” Andy is quick to amend, shaking his head. “– is that you expect me to sit back and watch you starve while everyone else eats. And I don’t like it.” He scrubs a weary hand over his beard. “Hand me your plate, beautiful.”

“Why?” It’s impossible to keep the suspicion out of your voice. 

“Because I don’t need all of this.” He grunts, taking the plate out of your hands when you don’t comply fast enough. “In fact, I don’t need any of it. You eat and I’ll order myself a pizza after we put the kids down.”

“Andy!” You scoff, which comes out on the heels of a laugh. 

“What?” The man is clearly confused by your dismissal of his offer. “I am capable of handling myself, okay? My hands work just fine.” He grates out, making a show of holding up a large, lightly calloused palm.

“But I…I made that plate for you.” You were seconds away from caving and you both knew it. 

“And I’m telling you, my wonderful wife, that I want you to have it.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to –” You begin, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was time to fess up.

“Fine.” Andy breathes, taking a second to roll his broad shoulders. “Then we’ll split it.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you into his warm embrace so that he can whisper in your ear. “And then, after we put the kids down, we’ll order ourselves a pizza. Maybe open up a bottle of wine while we wait.”

“Yeah?” You murmur, relaxing as you bury your face in his chest. 

God, he always smelled so good.  

“Mhm.” He continues, nuzzling his nose against your curls. “And then, once we’re all giggly and buzzed, I’ll convince you to let me make love to you in front of the fireplace. We can even set up a booby trap so that we pretend like the children don’t exist.”

“Wow.” You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles its way past your lps. “Andy Bear, that sounds amazing. But I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?” He rumbles as his brawny arms tighten around your smaller frame. You were pushing your District Attorney beyond his breaking point.

“Because.” Squirming out of his hold, you dance your way towards the oven in preparation for the big reveal. Hopefully your husband would be a good sport about all of this.

“Because?” 

“Because…” You draw out the word, even as you go to open the oven to show him what’s inside. “There’s actually plenty of dinner leftover. See?” You throw your arms wide, but force yourself to stop just short of adding spirit fingers because you suspected he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Baby, I swear…” Andy sighs, his hands slowly sinking into the pockets of his charcoal-colored slacks as he rocks back on his heels. Most likely to keep himself from strangling you, his lovely wife. “Why–what would possess you to lie about something like this?”

“First off, sweetheart, it’s called a prank.” You bridge the gap between your bodies so that you can wrap your arms around his trim waist. “And secondly, I saw it on TikTok. Ever heard of it?” 

He glares down at you, which has you instinctively clenching your thighs together. That’s part of the reason you loved riling up your Big Man.

Being a brat got your motor running. 

“I take it you have.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss away his frown. “Well, I fell down the rabbit hole the other day while the kids were napping. There’s this whole, like, subsection that’s just pranks. And the latest one involved these women pranking their guys by serving them a huge plate of food, and then pretending like there’s nothing left for them to eat. The reactions were super entertaining, so I figured I’d test it out, you know? Just for fun.”

You grace him with your most dazzling smile, but unfortunately, he’s still having none of it. His frown only deepens as he tilts his face up towards the ceiling in an effort to summon all of his remaining patience. 

“Are you mad?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip while you wait for his answer.

“Yep.”

“C’mon, Andy Bear!” You pout before placing your hands on his biceps to give him a light shake.”Where’s your sense of humor?”

“Pretty sure I lost it the day you decided torturing me was your new favorite pastime.” He grumbles, although there doesn’t appear to be any heat in his words. “In fact, I have a feeling you just gave me several new grays.”

“Oh, don’t you dare blame me for those.” You tell him, playfully rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know that you came home with those. I spotted ‘em the moment you walked through the door.” Your sassy response earns you a sharp crack to your ass, making you wince.

“Ow!” 

“Brat.” He grouses, even as he presses a sweet kiss to your nose. 

“Guilty as charged.” You hum, weaving your arms around his neck. “Besides, I had a feeling you wouldn’t let me starve.”

“Not sure it’s even possible to fail that challenge, Baby Girl. I mean, you’re my wife. My partner in crime. Did you really expect me to just let you go hungry?”

“You’d be surprised.” You mutter, making a mental note to show him a few videos featuring some of the men who’d actually failed the test. “But thankfully you didn’t. And neither did the kiddos. Which is why I will graciously allow you all to sleep inside tonight.”

You let out a tiny yelp when Andy suddenly grabs your ass with both hands, squeezing hard as he lifts you up. Unsure of what else to do, you immediately lock your legs around his waist. Right now you were just going along for the ride.  

“Now is that any way to talk to Daddy?” Andy lovingly captures your mouth, lightly stroking his along the seam of your lips. “Especially after you played such a mean trick?” His once clouded blue eyes are now filled with mischief. 

“Oh, I’m not sorry. But if it helps, I am willing to delete the video.” Your husband’s eyes go wide, letting you know that he hadn’t even considered the prospect of being recorded. So you keep talking, hoping to distract him. “And I still wanna get you drunk and take advantage of you after we put the children down for the night.” You run your fingers through his neatly coiffed hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nail.

“I don’t know if I should trust you.” He eyes you warily, making clear that he still hasn’t quite recovered from your earlier betrayal. 

“What if…” You lean in close, lightly nipping at his earlobe. “I could find it in my heart to apologize between then and now? How does that sound, Big Man?”

“I mean I might be interested.” Andy shrugs, gently setting you on the counter before bracing his muscled arms on either side of you. “Out of curiosity, just what kind of apology are we talking about?” He gazes at you with lust-filled eyes, eagerly anticipating your response.

“The kind that’s best offered while on my knees, wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of thigh highs and garters.” You know you’ve got him when you hear him groan low in his throat.  

“Fucky, baby.” Your husband hisses, burying his face in the valley between your breasts as his imagination suddenly kicks into overdrive. “Can you be sorry enough to wear the heels too? You know the ones I’m talking about.”

Oh. You knew exactly which ones he was talking about.

“I think so.” You murmur, stroking a tender hand along his back as he struggles to regain his composure.   

“Then we’ve got ourselves a deal.” He grips your hips before kindly helping you down. “Now let’s go get those kids fed and off to bed.” Andy grabs your hand, tugging you behind him as you head back to the dining room to see about your babies. 

“Slow down, Andrew.” You laugh as your legs scramble to keep up. 

“No can do, Baby Girl.” He grunts, picking up his pace. “Daddy’s really looking forward to that apology. So be sure to eat up because…” He trails off when he comes face-to-face with his sauce covered little ones. “...You’re gonna need all of your strength.”

“You can count on it.”

END