#Andy Barber fanfic

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 1

Summary: Andy was supposed to be in the past. There's where he should have stayed.

Pairings: Andy Barber

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentions of teenage sex, unprotected sex, PIV sex, daddy kink, degradation, body issues, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, creampie, cheating? 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.3K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

The woman in front of you babbles on a few more seconds before you look at your computer confused. You are in over your head, and don’t know where to begin. Maybe lying on your resume was a terrible idea, and you were better suited for the coffee shop. They didn’t let you choose what hours you wanted to work, and you needed that. At least at this office you are given that luxury.

You were underqualified, and a kept woman of sorts. “Ma’am,” you glance up at her quickly. She has kind eyes, and an upturned nose. She was just a bit younger than you, and you want to trust her, but there’s that prickling feeling inside of you that makes you not trust younger women. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

You shake your head no, ashamedly. “I’m a fast learner though.”

“So was I,” she takes a moment to look around the office. You are the only two around, so you’re not sure why she’s so concerned. “Listen, take your time. It’s not that hard, but unfortunately there is a layout to things. You’re here, and I kinda like you. Mr. Drysdale isn’t a terrible human, and you’re at the front desk. So all in all you’ll be fine.”

You thank her, and nod your head. How the hell did you wind up here? Not just in your situation but this stupid place. You knew nobody, and now you’re left wondering if that was the point. That you wouldn’t be able to reach out to someone for help. You had no inner circle. No one to just vent to. It’s how he liked it. And what did that cost you? You look down at your left hand, and get angry all over again. You were past feeling sorry for yourself. Past begging and pleading for a different outcome. He hit you where it hurt.

Now you’re doing what is right for everyone. You’re becoming independent. Nothing is going to stop you. You’re not going to rely on a man. Or allow one to make you feel less about yourself. You’re going to make them proud. You’re going to…

Shit.

Your head ducks down quickly as a tall man walks through the door. He gives a quick glance your way, but you miss the crooked smile. You wouldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t acknowledge his existence.

He bustles past you, directly to Mr. Drysdale’s office, and you finally stand up. Moving to jump in front of him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barber, you’ll have to schedule an appointment with him.”

“So you do remember me?” How could you ever forget one of the most perfect human beings you’d ever met. You’re everything. Every first you ever had was with him. Every plan that you could ever make was with Andy. Everything was Andy’s. And that’s when he was younger.

His hair was lighter then, and he didn’t have that full delicious beard. He definitely didn’t seem this tall, or broad. Or scrumptiously thick. He was just a boy then, but now he is everything you knew he would be. He walks like he has so much power. Still commanding a room, and even the breath that you breathe, he steals from you.

You exhale slowly, nodding your head. What do you even say to this man? Quick look at his hand. He doesn’t have a ring, and now you feel invasive. But he’s got his hand on display. “I don’t remember you this quiet,” he smiles again.

He’s just as beautiful as you remember. Years ago the two of you had named all your children. You’re sure you have it tucked away somewhere. You even had your wedding planned. You had everything until he moved off. Distance became more than just the miles away that you were between you. It became the lack of communication. Then no communication. And as much as it pained you, you knew that he was gone, and he was forever going to be the one that got away.

Living a few decades had done his body good. He was — immaculate. Much taller than you remember. But apart from his physical appearance he still has that ability to make your stomach feel like mush. Like everything in this world ceases to exist because Andy Barber is around. You’re not a child anymore, but he still feels like he can stop time. Because when the two of you are together it’s the way that it was meant to be.

”Doe? You okay, sweetheart?” he asks again. You are sure you look like the biggest dork, standing in front of him to block the way to Mr. Drysdale’s office.

“You remember?” That little nickname was your undoing. How Andy managed to come up with it, he never told you. But it’s so soft and shy, something you weren’t then.

“There’s nothing I don’t remember with you,” why did that sound so sensual? It has to all be in your brain because you’re lonely. And he’s Andy. “You look good,” okay, now he’s lying. You look like a hot mess. Your makeup is mostly smeared on. Your clothes are things you found at a thrift store. Your eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. And your weight fluctuates too often for you to keep up with. Depression can do that to a person.

“I look — nothing — you just — better.”

“You never could take a compliment,” he gives a wink, and takes one more step towards Mr. Drysdale’s office. “Is something wrong?”

“You need an appointment to meet with him.”

Andy looks down at you with a smile. You swear he’s taller than he used to be. You can almost feel the way his fingers would dig into your skin as you — stop it. You’re at work. And he’s Andy. “Ransom, get your ass out here.”

You hear a chair roll back, and are irritated that Andy is going to make it look like you aren’t doing your job. Mr. Drysdale opens the door, standing in the doorway with both hands on his hips and shrugs. “You’re about five minutes late.”

“Your secretary has been keeping me. For good reason though. Maybe you should let her know who the District Attorney is,” your jaw goes slack as you look at him. He did it. He really fucking did it. Next stop, judge. “Doe, care to join me for some coffee afterwards, and you and I can catch up?”

“I can’t,” it’s not a complete lie. You can’t just go and get coffee randomly. Things have to be planned out. You have people you have to call.

“She can’t,” Mr. Drysdale agrees, opening the door wider. “Stop trying to steal my office managers. He’s not hiring. He’ll lie to you, constantly. I pay better, and have better hours.”

“I’m the DA though, and you’re just the…”

“Shut up, and get in here. We’re not talking about it. But seriously, don’t listen to him. He’s a dangerous flirt,” Andy is definitely dangerous. And that terrifies you. He shakes his head with a smile, but you know the truth. Andy is poison to you. The best tasting poison. You’d find yourself falling without even trying. Because he was once your everything. And then you both grew up.

He darkens the doorway again, and you look back down at your computer. This is getting a bit ridiculous. You are trying to hold strong, and he is doing anything but that. He is a parasite sucking the life out of you until you fold to his desires. You’re not doing it. Losing Andy in the past was hell. Losing him now will be much more difficult. You’re an independent woman, goddammit.

“Doe?”

“You don’t have a meeting with Mr. Drysdale today. And tonight we’re closing early so people can enjoy the office party,” a party that was designed to celebrate another year of Andy being the DA. It was all very self gratifying for him. “Mr. Barber.”

“I don’t want you calling me that,” you glance up at him before returning back to your computer to just stare. You can’t even pretend to be working because you’re not. You’re just avoiding him and those looks, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Maybe calling me my childhood nickname? Nobody does that anymore, Mr. Barber,” he rolls his eyes before leaning over your desk. He’s too close. You can count the freckles that splay out over his nose, and smell his intoxicating cologne. The one you wish you knew what it was so you could be the girl that sprays a shirt and you can get a fill of him without having him. “Andy, what do you want?”

��For you to stop fighting my invitations to coffee. Or the office party. Or to dinner. Unless you have a perfectly good reason to tell me no,” he glances down at your left hand, and you feel sick. Would things be different a year ago? Would you still entertain Andy this long? The ego boost is working nice for your fragile self esteem.

But the way he looks at your left hand hungrily has you ready to actually vomit. This isn’t where you saw your life. Working in the Assistant District Attorney’s office while the DA barges in and compliments you, and asks you out on a daily basis. No. You were supposed to be keeping a house. And making sure your husband had dinner when he came home. And now you’re in fucking Newton and alone. Sort of.

Your tanline from your finger has since faded, and so should your conflicting feelings. Life wasn’t supposed to be so difficult. You know you sound like a child, but your dreams have been shattered so many times, and now here’s the first one waltzing back into your life asking for damn coffee. Or dinner. Or the office party. Next week will be something new.

“What if I just want to get drunk?” You had the means to go to the party. The means to do whatever you want. You didn’t have anyone relying on you tonight.

“Then I heavily suggest you let me make sure you get home safely and that nobody takes advantage of you.”

Do not allow this man to make that sound sweet. It’s not. It’s just basic human kindness. Stun him. Make him wonder and worry. Make him — want. Not just want, make him beg for the taste of you, “What if I want someone to take advantage of me?”

His eye brow cocks up, and his mouth turns up into a crooked smile. Andy’s knuckles bleach with how tight his fist is at the not so subtle suggestion. Good. You affected him as much as he’s been making you weak. “Any suggestions?”

There it is. The possessive Andy. The one that wants to let everyone know that you are his, and you are off limits. You want him to tell everyone that you belong to him. You want him to claim you in ways that the two of you feared when you were younger. You want him to own you. And you want him to leave you alone. One night. Just to prove to yourself you still got it, and then you want to live your life.

“Sweetheart, I won’t let anyone take advantage of you. You’re too precious for that.”

“And what if I want you to?” He growls. Actually growls. A rumble rolls up his chest, and he grits his teeth. His jaw pulses with desire. “Just one night.”

“There’s never been just one night between us,” you scoff. He’s making things difficult.

“You’ll just have to make it that way,” he wouldn’t want your baggage anyways. The two of you are adults now. You can’t be running around acting like teenagers and fucking everywhere you land. You have responsibilities and a job. A life. And…

“If you think you can say no to me after one night,” he challenges. Prick.

“It’s what it will have to be.”

He slams the two of your bodies against the door, and you shudder. Arching your back to bring your body closer to his, and his meaty hands slap over your ass. Sliding down the spheres before lifting you up, and you hungrily wrap your legs around his waist. Bringing him to your core, ripping your dress, but sighing at feeling his bulge next to you. Thankfully it was only ten dollars at GoodWill. Focus!

He grinds his hips into your aching body, and your vision blurs at the sensation. Head pointing up to the heavens while you offer up your sacrifice to Andy. Gasping for air, and his mouth traces down your neck. Tasting and nibbling your heated glaze, and your fingers make work of his button up shirt.

“You’re eager,” he rolls himself into your center, and you gasp at how hard he is. These slacks leave nothing to the imagination. You can see the perfect outline of him, and you need him naked now.

“Shut up, and fuck me,” removing your back off the door, he carries you down the hallway. Clawing at the back of your dress, and it’s fine, it’s already ripped. Tearing at the material with the need to only get you naked, so he can have you.

Andy drops your back onto the bed, untangling his arms so he can remove the rest of your dress. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some sweats for you,” you wish he would stop talking.

“Fuck me!”

Standing up, and off your body, you hate the loss of him, but enjoy him pulling and tugging on your underwear. Disposing of your bra, and he holds your legs open wide. Tilting his head to get a good look at your spread and weeping cunt. “Mmm, you look good enough to eat. Doe, you’re prettier than I remember.”

Why is he lying? Stop staring. It’s making you feel uncomfortable. You don’t have the body of a teenager anymore. Time is cruel, and the longer he stares, the more you want to just walk out of here. “Fuck,” his eyes roll in the back of his head when he enters a finger into your warmth. “Just as tight.”

Lying again. He probably says this about all his fuck buddies. You sit up in the bed and start jerking off every bit of clothing on his back. Making way to his pants, and you slowly undo his zipper. Peeling away his boxers, and you moan when his fat, thick, veiny cock bounces up in your face. “It’s yours. Go on, and take it,” Andy watches you with so much enthusiasm as you lick his precum off his slit.

Mewling at the musky taste that can only be described as Andy Barber. Your body liquifies and arousal pools in your core. You kiss down his shaft, keeping your eyes on him. There’s a lot of things that time can change. Your ability to suck a cock like a pro is one of them. Getting to the base of his length, your tongue twirls around the velvety steel, and you trace kisses over his sack. Keeping your eyes on him as you suck one into your mouth, and he lurches.

“You’re a goddess,” he groans, and you move over to the other. Massaging the testicle with your tongue before letting it fall out. Laying your tongue flat, you trace that delectable vein up his glorious dick before you reach his spongy head, and you swallow him. You try to swallow him whole, but come short. He somehow became bigger.

Wrapping both hands around his base, you bob on him. Gagging and slurping up the wetness before his hands grab both sides of your head, and you let your hands drop to your side, “Are you wanting me to fuck your mouth?”

Hollowing out your cheeks, you place your hands to grip onto his toned thighs. “You’re such a slut for me,” he says before his hips piston into you. Hitting the back of your throat like a man on a mission, and you let him take it. His pleasurable sounds are better than you remember. Maybe he’s just more comfortable. He’s older. More experienced. Not as timidly as the young man he was.

He halts his ministrations before pulling himself out of your throat, and you long to taste his cock again. His hands go under your armpits before he throws you up the bed. His wide body keeps your legs spread, and gripping his base, he runs it up and down your slit. Gathering up your juices. “Andy!”

“Shh, I’m enjoying seeing you spread open and begging for me to fuck you. Use your manners,” no. You can leave at any time. But you don’t want to. You want him to use you like his own personal sex doll. “Don’t be such a fucking brat. Say, please.”

“Please.”

“Is that all?” Oh, who is being the brat now? “Go on. Say it. My cock does want to sink into your warmth, and have you quaking and spread so wide. Keep you full and…”

“Please, fuck me, daddy,” the whine of your voice has him snapping his hips. Plunging into your needy cunt in one move, and you reel. Fingers gripping onto the bed sheets, and seeing stars with the depths that Andy reached. “You’re huge!” You gasp for air.

“So you’re saying when we were younger?”

“Not this — oh god — big!”

“I always loved it when you would go dumb on feeling me inside of you,” this cock is dangerous. It’s what all fantasies are made out of. Long, but not too long. But so fucking thick. Stretching you so wide that your toes curl. Back lifting off the bed because you can’t get enough of him. When was the last time you felt this satisfied by a human? The answer to that is depressing.

His movements are deliberate. They’re smooth like your body was made for him. He wouldn’t have to do anything, but just let you warm him. Keep him close to you forever. One night. Maybe a second night. No. Don’t fall for him. Don’t dream about his cock. He doesn’t need your mess of a life.

He pumps into you so slow, and you’re wrecked. This is better than you remember it. But you won’t allow your head to imagine that now is yours and Andy’s time. You won’t allow yourself to get worked up. You were teenage lovers that drifted apart, and you’re doing this one more time. That is all. Not more than that.

“Doe,” god, his voice. It tingles through your body, and you look up at him. He says your real name, smiling down at you. His voice dropped a few octaves with age, “Stay with me, baby. I know it feels good.”

“Don’t pre…”

“Aye! That happened one time. And it was our first time,” you can’t help but smile. You both were each other’s first, and it was less than stellar. It was raw, and unexpected. But you did it together. “You like this, huh?”

“That obvious?” He stabs into you with a quick hard thrust, and your mouth droops open. Fuck. He’s good. He’s too good. He’s too right. Does this ever have to end? Can he just stay seated inside of you forever? That’s not really the way you want to live life, but it’s a nice quick and fleeting thought.

It’s almost too slow and intimate. Like the way he’s fucking is more worshiping you and promising you another time tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. And you’re fighting that with all the resistance you can muster. You need him to fuck you and fuck you so hard and deep that it has a lasting effects and you won’t need him again. Even though you know that’s a lie.

“Andy, I…” his expression is pained, like he knows what you’re asking. “Please, don’t make this difficult.”

“I don’t want to. I want to make you mine,” the sentiment is too good to be true, and you hit on his shoulders. Letting him fall to his back before you saddle on up. Grabbing the base of his cock, you sink down over him, and fuck him. Use him for your pleasure. Bucking on top of him like you were made to do this. Your hands press hard into his toned chest. He got so much better with age, and then you are just you. Just plain. Just a woman that nobody would want in the daylight.

Getting yourself off is easy since he’s being a vocal man. You’ll let your legs be rubbed raw if it means you get to take him fully and to the hilt. It’s gotta last. It just has to. If life were different and it was easier, you could make this happen. You should tell him. Let him know the truth that changed your world. “I’m not able get pregnant,” keep it simple and easy. He doesn’t need to know the details.

You don’t know how he did it, but he has you off his body. Pushing your front onto the bed, and keeping you on your knees when he crawls behind you. Hands tightly on your hips as he slides all the way home. The only sound in the room is wet skin slapping on each other and needy hungry moans. Reaching under your stomach he lifts your back to his front as he pounds into you.

“Then let me fuck you like I’m going to breed you,” you whimper out his name, and an arm wraps around your neck. Holding you tight against him and adding pressure to the soft column. Cutting off a bit of your airflow, and making you dizzy. “Let me fuck my seed so deep in your belly, and make you mine.”

The words are so sweet and still so vulgar. “Yes! For real this time,” a few too many accidents in the past led to pregnancy scares. You don’t want an accident. You want him in your belly. You need him there. “Fuck me harder!”

He fucks you so hard that you know your going to bruise. The way he grips onto your soft curves tells you how badly he wants to keep you with him. “Look at me. Doe! Look at me!”

With furrowed brows you turn your head to stare into his eyes. “We’re about to come, and you’re going to keep your eyes on me, okay?” You nod your head as your orgasm builds in your belly. Bubbling and frothing just below the surface like a hot deadly volcano. Rumbling below the surface as he ruts into you like his life depends on it.

“Don’t take your eyes off me. Swear it!”

“I swear it,” one more slap into you, and your volcano erupts. Walls clamping around his cock. Placing him in a vice grip as thick ribbons of cum spurt inside of you. So much cream that you feel bloated, and so satiated. “Thank you,” you whisper as your eyes start to get heavy.

“Only a short nap. We’re going again. And again.”

“But I said…”

“You said, just for tonight. Not just one time,” you didn’t care to argue. You revel in the feeling of him in your belly as he starts to pull out. “Can I look?”

“What?” How does something so filthy seem sweet now. He wants to see himself inside of you.

“I’ve always wanted to look at you leaking without fear,” giggling you nod your head, and roll to your back. Spreading your legs open wide, while Andy settles in between your thighs on his belly, watching so closely and with bated breath as pearls of his seed drip out of you. “Perfect,” he hums, and starts fingering it back inside of you. “If I make it stick, you’re mine.”

“You won’t,” he hears the pain in your voice as you respond, and crawls up your body. Placing the softest most tender kiss up your imperfect body. Showing you love you can no longer give yourself. He ends on your lips, and kisses you so passionately that it takes your breath away. He won’t. And you can’t ever be his.

Andy looks at his text message from Ransom, making sure this was your house. Suburbs. This didn’t strike him as your home. But Ransom assured him it was. He walks up the steps to your home, and stumbles back.

“Andy? Why are you here?” Scott Huffman asks. A little girl clings to his leg, and she looks up at him smiling. “Aubrey, please, baby, get off daddy’s leg,” Andy looks at the little girl oddly. She has your eyes. “Go check on Suede.”

“Bubba!” She screams, getting off her dad’s leg. And he steps back. This is wrong. This can’t be right.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asks again. He grimaces when a loud bang reverberates inside the house, and he looks at his watch annoyed. “God, she’s late. I should have known she would be. Andy?”

“Umm,” he holds onto your clutch that you left at his house. Looking at Scott confused. He says your name, and Scott looks at him accusatory. “She left her — here.”

“How do you know my wife?”

“I’ve got to go,” Andy says, shoving the clutch into Scott’s arm as he walks away. No wonder you said that he couldn’t have you. You pranced around Ransom’s office without a ring. You trapped him. No. That’s not really the word for it. You said you couldn’t get pregnant, probably because you had your tubes tied after two kids.

What the fuck? How could you lie to him like that? He knows things didn’t end the way they should have. But cheating on your husband is another thing. Scott wasn’t really in his department, but he is aware of the lawyer. Ruthless. Come to think of it, he didn’t wear a ring either. He didn’t want to be in whatever sick bullshit you and your husband were playing.

He wants you. Wanted. Wants. He doesn’t know. And it doesn’t matter what he wants. Because you’re going to come home and be the perfect wife to your husband and at least two kids. And he’s going home alone.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

[worksby-d]

That’s the idea

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: Andy has to calm your nerves before taking you to meet some of his coworkers.

Warnings: divorced!Andy 🙂‍↕️, age gap probably (‘cause it's me), shower sex, blowjob/face fucking, unprotected sex, 18+

Word count: ~1,200

a/n: it's been MONTHSSSS since i've written smut let's please be nice 😭🫶

“It's gonna be fine, hon—” 

His voice is slightly drowned out by the sound of the running water. As he showers, you're sitting on his bathroom counter, talking his ear off while waiting for your turn. It's all of your nerves bubbling to the surface at once at the thought of meeting his coworkers for the first time. 

Before he can try to quell your worries for the umpteenth time, you're going on again. 

“What if they don't like me?” 

“It's just a retirement party, sweetheart…” He waits for you to interrupt again, but you’re letting him finish for once. “Low pressure, I promise.” 

“I know, but…” 

Your but is quiet. The thought you can't shake is knowing that these are people that knew Andy’s ex-wife and probably liked her… liked them together. You know he'd hate the fact you're comparing yourself though. 

“What if they're mean to me?” You're kind of joking now, but it's your way of deflecting from your actual nerves for a moment. “You talk about them being assholes a lot…” 

“They're not gonna be mean to you,” he says sternly. “I won't let them.” 

All you can see through the fogged up glass enclosing the shower is his silhouette, but you can hear it in his voice that he's rolling his eyes at you. 

“Are you done yet?” You finally ask. 

You know time is ticking. 

Before his response, you hear the door slide open and you watch as he peeks his head out. 

“Come here, please,” he asks, waving his hand toward himself. 

Reluctantly, you hop off the counter and step toward him. 

“What?” 

Instead of answering, he kisses you. “Relax,” he murmurs against your lips. 

“I'm fucking nervous,” you remind him, as if he hasn't gotten the hint yet. 

“I can tell,” he laughs.

The slow, breathtaking kiss works for a split second, until his damp hand touches your cheek. 

“Andy,” you chuckle, pulling away. Your smile falters as you look in his eyes. “What if I embarrass you?” 

“The hypotheticals,” he groans, dropping his head back in faux anguish before looking back at you. “Remind me, who’s the attorney here?” 

That gets you to crack a smile. “But I'm being serious.” 

“I know you are,” he assures. “That's not gonna happen though.” 

His hands find yours, entwining his fingers with yours. And just like that, he's gotten you back. You lean in and melt into his kiss again. You don't stop him this time, letting him untie your robe and help you slip out of it. 

Stepping into the shower with him, his arms wrap tightly around you. 

“It’s not working,” you mumble. 

“What isn't?” He teases.

“You keep trying to calm me down,” you chuckle. “But we don't have time for this.” 

He drops his forehead to your shoulder, letting out a laugh. 

“You are so on edge.” He presses a soft kiss to your skin. His fingers are trailing up and down your sides. “Give me a couple minutes.” 

“Okay,” you sigh. “But no funny business. We really have to get going—” 

“Trust me, honey,” he says, kissing your neck. “This is very serious business to me.” 

Your lips part in a silent moan and your fingers flex, digging into his back. 

He smirks, knowing it's working. 

“Think you can get on your knees for me?” He whispers in your ear. 

…And you're gone. He knows exactly how to pause your racing thoughts when you give him the chance. 

He feels your nod. “That's my girl,” he smiles, holding your hands as you lower yourself to kneel in front of him, making sure you don't slip. 

It's hard to look away once you're level with his hard cock, but you shift your eyes to look up into his. He's giving you a look, as if telling you you know what to do. 

Your mouth falls open, enough for you to stick your tongue out for him. He slaps the head of his cock against it. 

“There you go,” he praises, caressing your cheek with his other hand. “Now open up all the way for me.” 

You listen, parting your lips further so he can thrust his cock into your mouth. 

Your hands rest on his thighs to support yourself as you slowly relax for him. You can hear him groan above you when he feels you softly gag around him. 

His hand on your cheek moves closer to your neck, and to the back of your head, keeping you still as he does the work for you. 

“Oh, yeah, that's it,” he moans quietly. “Fuck, baby.” 

Simple praises laced between his sounds of pleasure make your eyes roll back as he proves how easily he can, in fact, calm you down. 

When he feels himself getting close, he forces himself to take a step back, pulling his cock out of your mouth, and allows you to take in a deep breath. 

Your chest heaves as you take a couple more and let him help you up. Catching your breath doesn't keep you from donning a blissful smile once you're face to face with him again. 

“Feeling better?” He teases. 

You let out a short laugh, your lean-in for a kiss giving him your answer.

“Good,” he says against your lips. It turns into a deep kiss. intoxicating enough to keep you doing as he says. “Now turn around.” 

His hands stay protectively near your hips as you turn away from him, placing your hands in front of you and arching your back. 

“You’d think this wasn't your first time,” he quips as you move exactly how he'd position you. 

One hand slips from your hip to between your legs, teasing two fingers along your slit before rubbing your clit. 

“Gonna fuck this pretty pussy for good measure.” His voice is low as he strokes his cock with his other hand. “Want how good you feel to be the only thought in your pretty head, okay?” 

“Please,” you whimper, pushing your ass back against him, needing to feel more than just his fingers. 

One thrust of his hips has you moaning loudly, immediately begging him to move faster as you feel inch-by-inch of his length slowly sinking into you. 

He lifts and holds one of your legs up, spreading you open for him so he can fuck you deeper. 

“Feels so good,” you whine, dropping your own hand down to rub your clit again. “You're gonna make me cum.” 

“That's the idea, baby.” His laugh turns into a moan of his own as he feels your cunt tighten around him. “Do it. Cum for me. Let go, sweetheart.” 

After a couple moments of his steady movements and dirty encouragements, you cry out his name as waves of pleasure wash over you. It's a good thing both of his hands are on you, holding you up as your legs quiver. 

“Good girl,” he grunts. 

A few rough thrusts as he works you through your high cause him to come undone too. His hips still as his cock twitches, spilling inside you. 

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily, rubbing your side. His other hand gently lowers your leg and moves to keep a steady grip on your waist.

He pulls out of you slowly, giving you a second before helping you turn back around. 

“Very serious business, my ass,” you pant, working on catching your breath as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” he laughs and hugs you tighter. “It worked, didn't it?” 

“We'll see,” you sigh. 

“Honey…” He chuckles. He swears he doesn't know what to do with you sometimes. “It's gonna be fine, I promise.” 

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[navybrat817]

Easy as Pie

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, slight body worship, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), established relationship, light D/s vibes, mention of insecurities, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #2 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks for suggesting soft Andy, @whisperlullaby (body worship and sensory deprivation) and @drabblewithfrannybarnes (cockwarming). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Baking was a hobby you enjoyed and what better time to make pies than in the fall? When you asked Andy that morning if he'd prefer to have a pumpkin or apple pie for dessert that evening, he told you to choose for him. It was tough for you to decide. For pumpkin, the earthy pleasant flavor and creamy filling was a wonderful contrast to the flaky trust. For apple, the sweet and tart combination was both delicious and complex.

After a quick mental debate, you decided to bake Andy one of each so he could have the best of both worlds.

“I guess I'll just have to surprise you,” you told him before he left for work.

“Either way, I'll still want you for dessert.”

You were looking forward to that.

It would've been easy for you to buy crust or filling from the store, but you preferred to bake from scratch. As tedious as it was to get the consistency right, it was fulfilling to see your progress from beginning to end. You also told Andy that baking engaged your senses, from touch to taste to smell. It relaxed you as well as energized you. It was almost like the aroma pushed you to the finish line.

By the time you finished baking and cleaning up, it was late afternoon. You were proud of how the pies turned out. Plus the smile on Andy's face when he walked into the kitchen was worth double the work.

“Right on time,” you smiled, removing your apron as he glanced over where the pies sat on display. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home,” he said, loosening his tie before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. He brought his hands to your waist to hold you close, your body molding easily against his. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did, but it’s better now that you’re home,” you said in return.

“You had a good day baking a pumpkin and an apple pie for me?” He questioned as you nodded. “You spoil me, honey. Thank you.”

It was almost laughable that he considered you baking pies as spoiling him. He worked hard as a lawyer and was still a loving partner even with his often busy schedule. The least you could do was take care of him in some form, though you were certain you got the better end of the stick by being with Andy.

“Don’t thank me until you taste them. They may not be so great,” you teased.

The hands on your waist gripped you a little tighter. “Don’t do that.”

Self-deprecating was something Andy didn’t care for, especially when he knew how hard you worked. He understood that there would be days when you wouldn’t think the world of yourself, but he never wanted you to put yourself or your skills down. Even if you were joking and nothing more, he preferred that you saw the best in yourself. If you didn’t, he found ways to tell or show you how special you were.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” you said, shrinking slightly under his fierce gaze before you brushed your fingers along his thick beard. “I’m sure they taste great.”

“I’m sure they do, too,” he said, the blue of his eyes darkening as you moved your fingers to his hair. “Now say something nice about yourself.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you sifted through your thoughts, doing your best to find something positive to say that didn’t sound like you were bragging. “I put love into everything I do and that’s what counts.”

Andy’s piercing gaze softened as he gently held your chin, bringing a smile to both of your faces. “That’s how I know your pies will taste delicious. Because you made them with love.”

Praise was something you typically shied away from, but it was different with Andy. You welcomed the way warmth blossomed from your core and embraced how it spread from your head to your toes. “Double the love since you wouldn’t decide which one you wanted,” you said, his chest rising a bit as he chuckled. “Now you have to pick which one you want to try first. Unless you want to wait until after dinner.”

His brows pinched together slightly as he considered your question. He couldn’t go wrong with either. “I think I’d rather skip dinner and go right to dessert,” he answered, venturing over to the counter.

You watched as he carefully cut and plated a slice from both pies, your breath hitching when he licked some of the apple filling off his finger. He wasn't trying to seduce you at the moment, but it was working. “I don’t mind that at all,” you said as he went back to you, your fingers wrapping around his tie to have him close again. “And where would you like to have dessert?”

“In the living room,” he replied, running his free hand up and down your arm. “And there’s something else I want to try.”

“And what’s that?” You asked curiously.

“I want you to sit on my cock,” he began, bringing his hand back to your waist as you inhaled. It was always a good time for you when he wanted to play. “And I want to blindfold you.”

You whimpered, eager to give him what he wanted. Him robbing you of your sight as he stayed deep inside you would enhance everything else around you. Would his cock feel harder than usual? Would his hands and lips make you tremble more than normal?

“And you’re going to sit perfectly still while I have a slice of each pie,” he continued, his voice gruff as your breathing picked up.

“You want me to sit still while I keep you warm?” You questioned as he kissed your forehead with a smile.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he whispered, dragging his lips down to the tip of your nose. “You naked and blindfolded while my hands and mouth wander, letting me worship you as I eat those delicious pies you put so much care into.”

You made some sort of embarrassing sound at his words, wondering if was going to keep his suit on while you kept his cock warm. It was such a power move and one you loved exploring with him. While he was physically dominant over you, he was also verbally appreciative and tender. He loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

“Maybe I want to worship you, Andy,” you said. He deserved for you to love him the way he needed you to as well.

“Not tonight,” he said, a hint of dominance starting to seep in. There would be no arguing with him. “Not when I’m going to eat you out after I pump you full.”

Fuck.

“And what’ll happen if I don’t stay still?” You asked breathlessly, shivering when his mouth touched the corner of yours, his beard tickling your skin.

“You won’t come,” he replied, smirking when you took a step back and narrowed your eyes. “At least, not right away.”

“That's just mean, Mr. Barber,” you said with the smallest of pouts. He only edged you if there was a reason to do so. Though it wouldn't surprise you if he dragged it out for your self-deprecating comment earlier.

“I won't be mean tonight, but I will need you to be patient,” he said, nudging you toward the doorway. “Go to the living room and strip. I'll be there in a moment.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smirked as you said, “Yes, Sir.”

The smirk fell as you began to undress in front of the couch with shaky hands. Though the curtains were drawn, the light in the room was bright enough that you wouldn't have a chance to hide from Andy's stare. The thought had your heart racing faster because he cherished every part of you. Any imperfection to you was a thing of beauty to him.

“Fuck, you really do spoil me.”

The rich timbre of Andy's voice made your hands fall to your sides, the ache between your thighs stronger as he walked toward you. Your nipples hardened as his eyes swept over you, like he actually touched you. It was embarrassing how wet you were when he hadn't laid a finger on you yet. You didn’t even close your eyes until he moved close enough that his nose brushed against yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours before he set the pie down. “You ready to take a seat or should I check?”

“I think you should check,” you said, opening your eyes as you widened your stance.

His gaze moved lower as he cupped your pussy, his fingers brushing along your slit. You were patient, letting him tease you when what you wanted was for him to stab his fingers deep. Watching him bring his glistening fingers to his lips to taste you seconds later, it was a feat your knees didn’t buckle.

He didn’t beckon you any closer as he lowered his pants and underwear, his cock springing free. His gaze devoured you still as he took a seat, lightly stroking himself with a moan as you stood there waiting. Your mouth watered at the thought of dropping to your knees and swallowing him down. It was another way to keep him warm. But he was in charge and what he wanted was your pussy.

You wouldn’t deny him.

“Come here,” he urged, taking your hand to help you into his lap. He stroked your thigh with his other hand as you straddled him. “Take me in.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you stared into his eyes as you lined him up with your entrance. Prolonged eye contact was another thing Andy taught you to appreciate. Watching the swirl of emotions in his eyes as you began to sink down made your heart almost beat out of your chest. Both of you sighed as you continued to move down, not wanting to go too fast. It would hurt him if you got hurt.

“Good girl,” he praised as you took a moment to appreciate how good he felt. He removed the tie from around his neck when you tightened slightly around him. You almost forgot he planned to blindfold you. “You let me know if this is too much, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. You never had to use your safeword with Andy, but knew he’d stop right away if anything made you uncomfortable. Communication was everything to him. “I trust you.”

He paused, a raw expression on his face as he didn’t reply. You framed his cheeks, wordlessly telling him that he didn’t have to speak. Trust wasn’t something either of you gave easily. Something about him made it easy. Maybe it was how deep your love for him ran.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick as he covered your eyes with the tie. He didn’t make it too tight, but you couldn’t see a thing. “Now be good for me.”

You gasped when one of his hands closed over your breast, your back arching to get more of his touch. You had to bite your lip to hold in your moans when his mouth enclosed around your nipple, his tongue suckling the hardened bud. Your cunt throbbed as he switched, giving equal care to each side with his hand and mouth.

“So lucky to have you,” he rasped as he released your nipple, your breathing heavy as you heard the fork scrape along the plate. Your cunt throbbed when he moaned, the sound filthy and deep. “Have a taste.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose, but Andy didn’t bring the fork to your mouth. He kissed you instead, making you cling to him as you tasted the spices on his tongue. It was stronger than normal, the flavor exploding in your mouth. You practically saw colors dancing behind your eyelids, giving various shades to the sweet taste he shared with you.

“Sweet just like your cunt,” he growled, arousal pooling in your gut as he moved his lips down your neck. Your hands were free, but you felt completely at his mercy. Your pleasure was in his hands. “Doing so well. Just keep me warm while I eat.”

You were desperate for more, but you stayed as still as you could. He kept a hand on you as he took bites, between gently grabbing your ass or rubbing your thigh. His lips and tongue touched wherever they could reach, bringing little whimpers out of you. The one thing he didn’t touch was your clit, which was begging for attention.

How long would he tease you?

“Andy, please,” you whispered, almost shifting in his lap in the hopes to get some relief.

“Almost done, honey,” he assured you, drawing a soft cry from you when he suddenly thrust his hips up. “You need me to fuck you, is that it? Can’t wait until I’m finished eating the dessert you made just for me?”

His finger brushed your clit only once and it was almost enough to hurdle you over the edge. Each touch, every lavishness of his attention, was pure ecstasy. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

“Honey, this is making me feel good,” he said, rocking his hips again as your chest heaved. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his gaze was hungry. “Watching you like this, letting me touch you, praise you. Don’t you feel how fucking hard I am?”

“I do,” you exhaled. You felt every inch of him along your sensitive walls. “Feels good.”

He kissed your cheek, the scent of cinnamon filling your nostrils. “You feel good. So wet and tight and it’s all for me. So fucking lucky to come home to you. Love you so much, honey.”

The fabric of his tie felt damp and you realized it was your sudden tears causing that. Between his words and how sensitive your body felt, it was a lot in a good way. “I love you, too,” you whispered once you took a breath.

He dragged his mouth to your ear as he brought his finger back to your clit, rubbing gently as you both groaned. “You want me to feel even better? Show me how good I make you feel. Drench me and I’ll fuck you with my cock and tongue.”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, gripping his arms in an almost bruising hold, determined to give him what he demanded.

“Come.”

That was your undoing, the tide washing you away as you drenched him the way he demanded. He quieted your cries with his mouth, swallowing them down for himself. You whined as he stopped rubbing your clit, the spasms from your walls still strong as he whispered how much he loved you.

You loved him, too.

“Beautiful,” he commented as you came down, allowing you to collapse against him as you caught your breath. His heart raced against your chest, almost as fast as yours beat. Pleasuring you pleased him and you wondered how you hit the jackpot with him.

“The pumpkin was good,” he began, running a hand up and down your back. “But I think I prefer the apple pie. It’s sweet, like you.”

You laughed breathlessly, making your walls spasm a bit around him. “Noted,” you said, reaching for the blindfold.

He stopped you before you could remove it. “Leave it on. I’m not done worshiping you yet,” he said, shocking you by tracing a bit of whipped cream on your lips. “And if you want my cream, you'll behave.”

He deserves the world! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[anika-ann]

Walking Back Into My Own Myth - A.B.

Type: long one-shot, significantly AU, supernatural elements

Pairing: sorcerer!Andy Barber x reader   Word Count: 22,2k (🥹)

Summary: They warn you not to wander the woods alone; but the woods feel more like home than the house you grew up in. They warn you not to confuse your head with childish tales of supernatural; but sometimes fiction feels more real than your own life. They warn you not stay alone with a man you just met, let alone in his house; but sometimes danger lurks in unexpected places. Sometimes, one can rely on the kindness of strangers. ... Or can they?

Warnings: soft dark, NSFW, 18+, smut (unprotected sex, oral, fingering); softdark but rather soft I think (come on, it’s me, also sort-of redemption arc?), dubcon, sex pollen and non-consensual ‘drug’ use, orgasm control, allusions to praise kink, possessiveness; supernatural elements, near drowning, mention of a dead animal, arseholes relatives, allusions to mostly emotional (past) abuse, minor injury and blood, language and SO MANY words and so much smut; 'little bird' as a term of endearment

A/N: Alright. First of all, this is one of rare occurrences of me writing softdark, so be warned. Second, this story is a callback to a perfectly innocent lovely event by @yenzys-lucky-charm back in autumn, specifically to this post. And third, I do realize that 22k fic is a massacre. I believe it flows best when read as a one-shot, but if you are understandably intimidated by that, there is a heart divider approx. in the middle where I feel taking a break is most suitable. At your convenience. Enjoy 💕 A/N 2:Dividers by @saradika-graphics 

The frozen leaves were crunching under your boots, a soothing sound between your harsh breaths and huffs and occasional curses interrupting the otherwise peaceful song of the woods; rustle of the glazed grass, soft creaks of the branches bowing to the wind, a barely audible clinks of sharp snowflakes having created a beautiful harmony.

A harmony much needed after you had just left the utter chaos of a family gathering which, as usual, ended up in drowning the holidays in a cesspool of negativity. And as it often did, the negativity seemed to revolve around you.

You didn’t know what you had been thinking, coming here. You had a life outside of this small town, a mostly good one too; you had no reason to visit your hometown whatsoever, year after year, naively hoping for a change. But family was family, your mother always said; one did not turn back to their own blood, even if they had become the almighty big city girl.

As if. As if you were that.

The said big city was now finally feeling at peace as she had walked out of the door, having had her fill of lousy loud human beings, turning to the quiet of nature instead.

The one place where you all truly came from.

The one place that loved you no matter what.

The one place where you had never been and never would be judged.

You had always been drawn to woods, even as a little girl.

To the quiet place to hide from the overwhelmingly loud world, from boys pulling your hair until your eyes watered for their fun, from other girls cutting it for the very same reason, from teachers waving it off with kids can be a bit cruel, so what?

Of course you kept escaping. The embodiment of the cliché of a small town since young age; the designated weirdo. The one who’d rather ran through the woods than the few streets and newly built clothes store; the one who was more interested in fairytales and myths than videogames; the one fascinated by pagan tales from the old continent and local legends than the Bible. The very definition of pariah; side-eyed by peers, looked at through fingers by the adults and elderly. No matter how much you had moved towards normalcy to be approved of during the years, the small-town folk, as always had put the label on you having used the special kind of glue they were experts at making. It stuck.

And so did your love for the woods.

Hikes became your hobby, the woods your only solace. The safest place on Earth; for which many gave you strange looks still, more so since you had moved to a big city that offered but a daily walk in a minuscule patch of greenery.

Naturally, parks weren’t the same as here; here, in the woods, you felt like you could finally breathe.

The only reason why you had chosen the city was your job; your job and the visceral need to leave the very people you had just left in the house far behind. The city was but a jungle of steel and glass and concrete, constant noise and raging sea of people crushing your soul; but if there was one thing you hated more than the suffocating atmosphere of a city, it was the small-town gossip and narrowmindedness. 

You only came back to your hometown once a year, for Holidays. And every year, you regretted it.

The constant jabs from your family, about your job, your tiny apartment you finally moved into after years of having to cohabitate with various unique personalities; about your hair and make-up, about your weight, wrong no matter which side of the scale it leaned to. The never-ending biting remarks about being unable to keep a man. And all that, followed by offended comments that you couldn’t take a little teasing.

Mocking was the right word. Goddamn bullying.

So no, you could not take a joke like that; especially when they were twenty in a row.

And you had tried, you truly had. You nodded and chuckled and complimented and helped around the house, but nothing was ever done right. And you suffered the mocking, because in the end, those people were your family and family loved each other and maybe you were indeed a little too sensitive. So you kept trying, year by year. You had been to Sunday school as a kid, despite despising it, really – so for Holidays, you joined everyone in their prayers, coming to midnight mass, participating in traditions. Like a good girl; like a good daughter.

You accepted the family hypocrisy too and participated in that silly and very much non-Christian tradition of theirs, of all single family members throwing apple peels into water to reveal the first letter of their future spouse’s name; every year, despite the game being rigged, an utter nonsense, if for nothing else then for the fact that everyone ended up with an O or C or U, because, well, that was what apple peels looked like. Ironically, all your siblings and cousins had actually married someone whose name started with the very letter they had received in their ‘prophecy’, a little too self-fulfilling for your taste; but you congratulated them anyway and kept throwing the apple peels in too.

And you did it wrong, again; a scandal. This year, your apple peel curled mysteriously enough to a create a form resembling a cursive A, the first in family history. You always had to have something extra, didn’t you? God.

You loved your family; you did. You told yourself you did, because no one was perfect and unconditional love was bull. But you had never felt so completely alone and unloved as when you were with them.

You wondered why that was; and the answer was clearer than the skies on a freezing December night. The tears that stung in your eyes had little to do with the wind growing icier and sharper; it had everything to do with clearly being an unlovable person.

If you never came back from your walk, they probably wouldn’t even notice. Not until they felt like humiliating someone, again, and suddenly realized their favourite target was missing. Who would be their next victim? Probably you. The joy of talking about someone behind their back was a great substitute to laughing to their face, you supposed.

You scoffed and sniffed, shaking your head as you resumed walking. The short trail you had set off to – slightly underdressed, you had to admit – looked different than usual this time of year. Indeed, only the frozen over, crunchy leaves instead of snow; not even winters were what they used to be. You should have never come back.

As the falling snow finally seemed to stick, rather pieces of messy ice than soft snowflakes, you made the executive decision to stay away from your relatives and this town next year.

This year would be last they ever they’d ever see you.

Arriving to the clearing among the trees brought a genuine smile to your lips, the first one in two days. The sight of the lake – too small to become a favourite destination of families during summer heatwave, hugged from afar by tall white birch trees and caressed by long leaves of grass and reeds with a single old willow tree offering a sanctuary to a little girl wishing to enter other worlds through reading – moved something deep within your chest. A memory of peace, nostalgic longing for days when life had been easier – but it hadn’t.

You gulped, letting you heart lead your steps. Pulling out hands from your pockets, your fingertips grazed over the white bark, flexing gently as if to grasp the harmony of the old days where escaping the judging looks by getting lost in old myths still appeared like a plausible solution to all problems. Brushing over the thin branches of the willow tree, you could almost feel the summer breeze toying with the leaves, protecting your ears from the echo of scoffs and cries. Stupid fairytales! Pick a real book for God’s sake at least! Learn the Scripture instead! Blasphemy! Fables for silly children! You’re messing and confusing your head with those childish fantasies!

One corner of your lips rose higher, a memory of just how much fonder you grew of the stories with every speck of dirt people threw at them. Folklore, was the right word. Old wives’ tales. Legends. A touch of magic from times when people still believed in it and wrote their faith into traditions that could be sacred and bloody all at once. How was that different from drinking the blood and eating the body of Christ?

The hypocrisy of a small town.

You too, were a bit of a hypocrite, you assumed; you badmouthed the apple peel tradition, only to dive with fascination into myths and traditions of another; but those, those were yours to explore, yours to cherish. Not pushed at you.

You remembered sitting in the willow’s shade, much smaller at the time, reading with batted breath the stories of crime and punishment for toying with forces beyond human compression, with life and death. A series of stories passed by word of mouth, gathered and weaved into simple poems; a tale of two sisters walking in the death of a night on Christmas Day to a frozen lake, wishing to glimpse their future in the water surface. You recalled the moral of this particular story too; it was better not to know; in the story, one of them learned about her upcoming marriage, the other about her own death. Was it truly something one wanted to know…?

Perhaps there was morbidity to it, but it used to fascinate you; the mystics of it all, the morals, the question of what if you had that chance. What would you do? Would you, too, be seduced by a mirage of your dead beloved to walk to your near demise? Would you give in to the temptation of riches at expense of a life? Would you risk gods’ punishment for wishing to know what only gods were meant to know, your future?

Would you?

With a bitter chuckle, you crouched by the lake, fingers carefully caressing over the thinnest layer of transparent ice.

Years and years ago, even a month ago, you would say it was not worth it to tempt fate. It was better not to know, to be content with what one had at any given moment, to only keep on hoping for a happy ending rather than to learn about an inevitable tragedy; such was the message of the old tale, sticking with you firmly your whole life. 

Then, two weeks ago, your cheating dick of a boyfriend – ex-boyfriend, naturally – graciously gifted you a broken heart as an early Christmas gift on top of everything else barely kept together with your weak hands.

Would you like a glimpse of the future, a speckle of hope, looking at you from the water surface? Yeah. Hell, you might jump into the ice-cold lake if it meant someone would tell you everything was going to be okay.

A shiver ran down your spine as a gust of cold wind blew, weaving snowflakes into your hair; a prompt and a warning, you would have thought several years ago, a childlike faith in the supernatural.

But there was no supernatural. Oh no, humans managed to punish themselves and each other just fine on their own, sometimes without a crime preceding it.

With another chuckle – because what was the worst thing that could happen? You’d see your own face staring back? – you pressed against the thin layer of ice, surprised by its firmness.

“What the-“

You leaned into it further, pushing harder, more bewildered by the resistance than anything; a distant sound of a creaking wood reached your ears, the wind playing in the branches.

An echo of a voice.

A soundless whisper of your name.

Your head snapped to the direction of the almost haunting voice, nothing but the clearing and the woods surrounding you.

“I’m losing my mind…” you muttered under your breath, sighing, turning back and pressing against the ice once more.

The sudden loud crack took you by surprise, your feet slipping as you retreated your hand too quickly, losing your balance.

The next thing you knew, a scream was dying in your throat as you gulped for air, the freezing water gripping you neck to toe, your suddenly heavy limbs feeling like having to move through thousands shards of glass.

Your body spasmed painfully at the brutal temperature drop, even your lungs burning from the seemingly colder air.

Your heart thundered in panic, beats so wild the poor muscle might actually burst or simply give out, your temples pulsing with its frantic echo. Your vision blurred with black blending into all the white surrounding you.

This was what encounter with death looked like; ice-cold, sharp, pale and hopeless.

You were going to die and your heavily flailing limps barely keeping your head above water would not be enough to save you. You were going to drown. A bastard child of a sob and desperate gasp for air tore from your lungs, the ice cutting through your skin and flesh.

Then, the haunting call of your name again, closer, warmer.

Come to me.

I need you.

Fight.

You hungrily bit for more air, your head spinning, the voice growing louder with every word, urgent, but soothing all the same, like a helping hand extended.

Don’t you give up.

Come find me.

It might have been God; might have been the spirits of the woods. Most likely, it was the shock making you hear imaginary voices.

Your fists clenched despite feeling like your knuckles were being grazed by razors, a deep cut not drawing blood but making it turn into ice instead. Still; you pushed against the water, feet kicking madly, the tears springing from your eyes as burning as lava in comparison to your skin.

Another kick. Push. Arms so heavy, and so, so cold, thousands of knives piercing your flesh, tearing a desperate raw cry from depth of your lungs.

You squeezed your eyes shut and screamed again, pushing with all your remaining might, throwing your arms around.

Solid surface. Crunchy leaves. Your dug your numb fingers into the stiff ground, grabbing nothing but dirt but pulling and kicking out at the same time anyway.

A minuscule motion; your chin, your neck, on the solid ground. Not thick ice – earth. The woods. Your best friend.

A pathetic cry of laughter burst from your ribcage, shaking violently as you forced your muscles – not even feeling like your own anymore – to keep pulling. To keep kicking out, an absurd imagery of your ex’s face being behind your feet causing you to choke out a brief bark of laughter again and pull. And again and again, your shoulders, torso, legs, sagging against the frozen land.

Your body shook beyond your control as you tried to roll over, your boots making a pathetic splashy sound that barely reached your ears over the pounding in your head. Your chest was expanding and deflating rapidly as you laid on your back, slow blinks against the still falling snow and the sight of grey skies. Every single cell in your body screamed in pain, every motion like a fresh stab wound, but you couldn’t stop; you couldn’t stop shaking.

Whatever survival instinct you had took over as your hands pushed pathetically by your lower back so you could sit up and then scramble to your feet.

The process of standing up seem to last an eternity and half, the temperature dropping further; and when you did stumble to your feet, standing on legs that bent to the wind almost as much as the leafless branches, you nearly toppled over and fell head first back into the lake, your vision blurring.

Whether the water surface would show your future was the furthest thing from your mind; it was just the cold. Brutal, deadly cold. That and warmth.

That, and the strange kind voice, perhaps your very own guardian angel who seemed to love you, the only being in this goddamn universe, whispering in your ears.

Come, my love.

Keep walking.

And you did. Dry sobs erupting from your throat, boots practically freezing to the ground in between every step, exhaustion and the unforgiving cold etched into the very fibre of your being, you dragged one foot along the other, step by step, the miniature distance walked mocking you harder than all your relatives combined.

But it wasn’t their voices you heard; this one was sweet. Like a hot chocolate with whipped cream and pinch of winter spices on top, warming your frozen bones; like what you imagined a hug by a fireplace felt like, a kiss to your temple with affection without pretence. Like gentle palms cradling your face before his lips touched yours, tasting like true love; like a burning touch to your bare skin, dragged so softly, teasingly, before finally giving you what you desired.

Come to me.

I’ll keep you warm.

Keep you safe.

Dark spots danced in your vision, making you dizzy, your heavy eyelids slipping shut; your knees, quaking so hard they could no longer carry you, buckled and sent you plummeting.

Your palms met a rough surface as you flailed your arms out, barely caught against the bark of a tree, scraping your skin enough to draw blood. Your eyes snapped open, another ragged sob tearing from your achy throat.

And that was when your vision cleared despite the blur of tears.

A light.

A cabin. A small house; a cottage? Who the fuck cared.

It was an occupied house; warm light spilling from one of the windows, smoke coming out of the chimney, a promise of everything your body desperately cried for. Almost feeling its warmth radiating all the way to your numb fingertips, you gritted your teeth, strength you never thought you possessed poured straight into your veins, having already almost frozen over.

In the very back of your hazy mind, it occurred to you that you had never seen the house despite your numerous hikes; then again, you had no idea where you had walked, left being right and right being left, the only one certain direction being forward.

Again, who the fuck cared. You had never seen a cozier place in your lifetime; a lifetime that was soon going to end should you not will your useless legs to keep moving forward.

Reaching the porch staircase, you grabbed onto the beautiful wooden railing for balance, propping up to make the step.

And missing it.

You sagged against the railing, barely catching yourself before hitting your head. You propped back up, forcing your leg to rise higher, one step, two steps; the one remaining as tall as the Everest.

You sobbed again, lamenting the absence of the warm honey-like voice. Where was it now, huh? You were so close and needed another nudge, another-

The door of the house opened cautiously, revealing an outline of a figure, inviting light spilling around him; a tall, broad man, his face, the most handsome features you had ever set your eyes on, twisted in a frown and a flicker of horror.

For a beat of motionless silence, it flashed through your slippery mind who of the two of you appeared more frozen in the absurd scene; another beat, light and delicious warmth pouring from inside the house, like an oasis in the middle of a Siberian dessert.

And then he was moving, without a word, only sucking in a horrified breath as his hands slid under your arms and lifted your near deadweight with little effort, helping you not only to overcome the last step, but also the endless distance from the stairs into the doorway.

The interior was warm enough to make angels weep, enveloping you like a loving hug; but his touch felt like a central heating poured into your veins, his grip firm and certain despite the ice patterns having grown on your clothes surely cutting into his skin. Perhaps all alarm bells in your head should be ringing as he kicked the door shut behind you, leaving you alone in the middle of godknowswhere in a stranger’s house, a stranger who was now leaning you against the wall as your legs gave out at last and fought with the zipper of your coat no less, but they didn’t.

No alarm bells; all you heard was his gentle whisper.

“Let’s get you out of these.”

Zipper torn away, hands sliding under the fabric to peel it off of your violently shaking body, your teeth kept clattering.

“I’ll get you warm in no time.”

Your sweatshirt next. Your boots. Your socks; a cry of pain escaped your bluish lips, his warm hands gently enveloping your foot to allow you bask in his warmth.

“I’m sorry, I have to do this. We need to get all these off.”

Your shirt followed.

Your body, as if on instinct, moved slowly but willingly in tandem with him, small motions to aid him rid you of the cold until it didn’t.

You could feel the change of temperature bite into your icy wet skin, a lick of sharp pain; an instinct led you to reach out back for your clothes to fight the once again brutal change.

He grasped your hands, easily gathering your wrists in one palm, a gentle but uncompromising grip.

“No--- no! Look at me. Can you hear me?” he asked.

The squeeze on your wrists and the direct question finally pushed you from mindless haze to blurry reality.

It dawned to you that yes, climbing back into cold soggy clothes would not help.

Jaw quivering, teeth still clattering, you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, only following his order. And oh, were you looking, the reality creeping in slowly, but gaining sharp edges just as a brief smile passed his lips.

“Good.”

That he was. Good.

And incredibly handsome.

Not but a few years older than you, dark well-trimmed beard complimenting his sharply cut features, elegant nose girls must have swooned over as much as over the surprisingly warm blue of his eyes and his slightly messy hair combed up in a way that called for your fingers to run through it. His shoulders and arms, while not enormous, gave impression of being able to carry you without too much issue, lean waist and long legs with muscular thighs making him look like some sort of a fever dream of yours; or in this case, a brain-freeze dream.

“I’m going to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom, alright? I’ll start a bath for you,” he explained, his hands already sliding under your body – and gods, was his touch like a taste of heaven, so deliciously and thoroughly warming against your painful goosebumps – rising to his full height and delivering on his promise as your hands automatically reached to wrap around the back of his neck for stability.

He did not even flinch at the icy touch; he did not even blink at the fact he was now carrying a woman, a perfectly vulnerable woman, stripped to her underwear sticking to her stiff nipples, so cold and soaked through that the fabric might as well be non-existent, completely see through because of course you had chosen white today. But he just kept walking. His gaze roamed, perhaps growing slightly darker, but mostly focused on your face and the path.

He truly must have been a figment of your imagination.

The cloudy droplets remaining on your skin seeped into the lovely light blue of his henley, a shaky apology spilling from your tongue, earning you another smile and a shake of his head, the former turning softer when you stuttered out a ‘thank you’ as well.

Without a word, he set you down once he reached his destination – bless the floor heating feeling like prickly heaven against the soles of your feet – moving to the bathtub and starting the water as you simply stood there, wrapping your arms around your body for both warmth and keeping your non-existent modesty. As he tested the temperature, he checked up on you from the corner of your eye, a swift head-to-toe glance before he took a small bottle by the tub, adding a few droplets to the water. Soon, the bathroom was filled with pleasant smell of fresh blossoms and herbs.

“We can’t have the water too hot as not to shock your system, but this essence can work true magic, believe me. Come on.”

An absurd idea of being thrown into the water and having your head held down under struck you, freezing your feet to the floor.

He remained stood straight by the tub, tall and large and so much stronger than you, hovering. His concerned eyes met yours, suddenly wide with fear.

A warm voice; a haunting whisper.

Come to me.

I’ll keep you warm.

I’ll keep you safe.

A shudder rocked your body, still trembling with the cold having seeped deep enough to reach your very soul.

Come, my love.

I need you.

“Can you hear me, little bird?” a voice cut through the fog of your mind, causing you to wince, an image of a baby swallow of all birds flickering in your vision.

A hazy memory of the innocent sweet creature having fallen from its nest, your own small hands, hands of a curious child, tenderly holding it in both palms as you lifted it back to its home. There you go, little bird.

A sharper memory, hands stained with dirt as you covered the small bird in its shallow grave, having found its wing torn away just as a group of boys were running away from the lake, with a burning hope in your heart that the bad luck meant to follow those who kill a swallow would catch up with them. Your tears felt cold on your cheeks, so cold against the white-hot anger of having seen them hurt an innocent creature, a breathy whisper of sorrow and compassion on your lips. There you go, little bird. No one can hurt you now.

“I’d never hurt you, little bird. I promise.”

You blinked, eyes refocusing on his sincere features, his hands raised in the most universal gesture of meaning no harm.

What an odd phrasing, you thought. What an odd nickname. Endearment, really.

Another shudder ran down your spine, but your feet began moving on their own volition, shaky steps towards the bathtub, the man’s steps, in return, retreating to give you space.

Something in your heart trembled softly at the gesture, the smallest of relieved smiles in the corner of your lips, one he hesitantly reciprocated.

“I’ll leave you now. I will only bring some dry warm clothes and leave them by the door, okay? I’ll wait so you have time to get in,” he assured you. “I’ll knock and I won’t look.”

“W-why?”

The question fell from your lips before you could think twice about it, earning you a sad smile speaking of just how profoundly he understood the duality of the question.

Why wouldn’t you take advantage when it would be so, so easy?-- - Why do you, hell, everyone, think I am not worthy of staying for and looking?

“Because you deserve better, little bird,” he said, sincerity threaded in the simplicity of his words.

You deserve everything, the echo of the warm voice washed over you, fresh tears stinging in your eyes.

“Stay as long as needed. We have all the time in the world.”

With those words, he finally left the bathroom and closed the door. The key remaining in the lock from the inside; you could easily deny him access and force him to place the clothes outside. It would be a wise thing to do, too, to protect yourself, especially with how vulnerable you had already revealed yourself to a stranger, a much larger man who could choke the life out of you or take whatever he pleased.

So why did you want him to come here, to check up on you, to come closer and look, the thought awaking an entirely new kind of heat inside you?

You shook your head, peeling off your ice-cold underwear and climbed into the tub as fast as possible, even as you knew it might hurt at first, the reward only coming after a while.

Instead, an entirely different experience awaited you.

You couldn’t supress the moan of pure bliss as the water enveloped you and warmed you through in an instant with what could only be described as love; tenderly grasping your frozen-through flesh, caressing your skin in a way none of your lovers had ever bothered, leaving not warmth, but heat in its wake, your muscles relaxing and stringing with anticipation all at once.

You observed the water, not having even stilled yet, with mute wonder. Your skin, having earned grey undertones, was back to its natural colour without a tinge of pain, having you swallow a cry of relief. Essential oil or not, your stranger had not exaggerated; this indeed felt true magic.

It was a mere bath; but it felt so sinfully good your body turned pliant in an instant, your adrenalin-filled mind clearing and fogging in bliss.

Carding your fingers through the water curiously, it felt as if the water returned the affection tenfold, caressing your skin all over again, slow and sensual. A circle on the water surface with your middle finger felt like an invisible soft touch up your inner thighs, a teasing that left burning need in your core, so painfully out of place and oh so right and addictive. Swirling your hand in the water playfully; a sensation of hot lips attached to the apex of your thighs, firm and hungry.

“Good--- heavens-“ you sighed, head tipping back, your lips parting with a gasp, something in the back of your mind tingling with danger.

Having nearly died – and the realization should be like a bucket of ice-cold water, a terrible pun intended, but it was nothing short of exhilarating instead – you did not retreat from the danger, sinking into it instead.

The delicious warmth inside you only grew as if a reward, your fingers gliding through the water again, a breathless whimper on your lips as you felt a delicious stroke deep within your sex. Another curling touch to the water; a curling pressure against your special spot, stars flickering behind your eyelids.

“Fuck-“

Come, my love.

I’ll keep you warm.

I’ll keep you-

A knock shattered your illusion; you grabbed the edges of the tub with a gasp, blinking open your eyes not having realized you had closed them, sinful images of the very man who now stood behind the door dissolving and yet remaining torturously vivid in your mind.

“Everything alright, little bird?”

“Y-yes. You can come--- come in,” you stuttered, heat of embarrassment washing over you like a tsunami.

God gracious-

What kind of a crazy person were you?Who in their right mind, no matter how scrambled from near-death experience, would lust and touch themselves – but were you? It felt like someone else did, and gods, did you love that feeling, needing more – who would do this, right in the bath that the kindest stranger, so respectful of their privacy, ran for them? Imagining him, no less, his large warm hands gripping you as if he never wanted to let you go, needed you more than air-

He slowly opened the door ajar, a careful, respectful peek inside the room as he slipped a pile of neatly folded clothes through the crack, his gaze finding yours.

“I hope you’re feeling better, little bird.”

Oh he had no idea just how much better. He couldn’t have and yet, something in his gaze sparkled, something dark akin to amusement, so alluring, quickly replaced by a flicker of contentment once you nodded, not trusting your voice, again. It was only then when you realized you were still slightly above water and perhaps, whether he wanted or not, he did get a peek of your breasts.

Not that he commented on it. Because out of two of you, he was apparently the decent one.

“Good.”

Without any prompting, he moved back.

He was already closing the door, when you blurted out the question. “Wait---! What’s your name?”

You gulped as he paused, his gaze meeting yours again.

“Andy. You can call me Andy.”

You tested the name on your tongue, a sweet treat you found yourself wanting to taste over and over.

He rewarded your efforts with a smile, one that had air catch in your throat.

He had smiled before, a heart-stopping curl of lips on an exceptionally handsome man. But now, for the first time, his smile reached his eyes; warmth like no other spread through your veins, a longing settling in your chest as the door closed and you were left alone – and wanting – once more.

The clothes were too big for you, sleeves and pantlegs too long, unsurprisingly; and unsurprisingly, they were as just as Andy said, warm. And very soft and comfortable, with tones of a scent that made your head spin in the best way, tempting you to bring the sleeves up to your face and breath in deeply just before you rolled them up.

They were just a pair of sweatpants, a henley and a sweatshirt, boxer briefs and a pair of fluffy socks; but they felt like home.

And so did the space.

Andy had carried you up the stairs; a beautiful staircase made out of light wood with traditional sturdy railing, offering a view of the ground floor. Sneaking from the bathroom however, it was not where you headed straight away, your eyes drifting towards the other two door at your level, your stomach making a funny flip; perhaps an office or a guest bedroom and his bedroom. The tingle in your fingertips as your hand reached out of its own volition for the doorhandle was almost unbearable; you had to clench your fist hard enough for your nails to leave moons on your already scraped palms.

You shook your head at your own creepy urge to explore, turning a sharp right towards the stairs instead.

Heading down where you could hear clinks of dishes, you took every step slow, fingertips brushing over the railing; it almost seemed to pulse with warmth of life, causing your breath to catch. Or perhaps it was the view of the ground floor.

When Andy had brought you inside, your vision was still rather blurry, all your attention focused on not dying of hypothermia and on the handsome stranger sent to you by heavens itself; now, when you had the opportunity to appreciate the interior, you did.

The living room seemed as if cut out from a lifestyle magazine, except it didn’t, little details making the scape appear actually lived in. A quilt thrown over the armrest of a small sofa, a pillow or two on each of the pair of armchairs in earthly tones of green, large enough to hide in comfortably with a book, the stony fireplace inviting for cosy winter evenings; the three books balanced on the coffee table in a hazardous stack whispered of how Andy might have spent some of his evening exactly like that. Four bookshelves filled with readings of various length, in between several pieces of art on the wood-panelled walls, not expensive on a first glances, but perhaps all the more loved. A pair of wide windows offered the last remnants of daylight, aided by the warm fire of the fireplace. Multiple plants to compliment the earthly tones and woodwork; and yet what made you smile was the abandoned empty cup, whispering of this place being someone’s home.

Resisting the urge to linger and perhaps examine just how soft was the quilt and how comfortable the armchair would be, you followed the noise to the kitchen; rather spacious as well, tuned to slightly darker colours than the rest of the house, the light entering from large windows prevented it from being too dark in daytime, the lamplights immersing it in warmth at nighttime. The wide counter stretched along two walls as well as the cabinets, creating enough space for variety of dried herbs, teas, spices and other casings as well as several basic appliances, the workspace almost robust in comparison to the dining table with three wooden chairs and soft emerald cushioning.

There seemed to be so much love and attention poured into the space, much like into the cozy living room, that couldn’t but you wonder which of the two were the true heart of the house to Andy.

As you entered and he turned to you with a smile, you couldn’t but believe it might be the kitchen, for he looked as if he belonged; and with an unfair pang of jealousy, you realized it was also hard to believe he lived in his home alone.

Then why did he give you his clothes, a voice in the back of your head questioned. Why did you see no photographs of a lovely wife or family? Why did he look at you from head to toe and back, meeting your gaze with his smile growing, a content, almost possessive glimmer in his eye?

You were losing your mind, you were sure; and the unfairly handsome stranger was the cause of it.

As he was the cause of you liking the fact all too much, the flash of a memory of how good it had felt to play with the water, imagining his hands mapping out every inch of your body, made you shiver and your breathing waver.

You needed to get a goddamn grip on yourself.

But how could you, when his warm voice washed over you, a gentle deep timbre, friendly, resonating in your ribcage?

“Hey. Good enough fit?”

“Yes,” you agreed quickly, clearing your throat as your voice came out rather choked. “Thank you, Andy. I can’t repay you enough.”

“Nonsense. Come sit down,” he beckoned to the table lightly, taking a wooden tray with two cups of tea and a teapot and setting off the same direction. “I don’t know about your tastes, but I think this tea could be just what you need.”

You smiled hesitantly, your heart swelling at his offer. He had already done so much for you, helped you in, ran a downright magical bath for you, lent his clothes to you; sitting down and stealing more of his time felt like an imposition, taking all too much with no way to repay him indeed. And surely, he had so much better things to do.

But it would be impolite to refuse, you argued with yourself as your steps instinctively followed him, as you pretended it wasn’t the way the muscles on his shoulders and back shifted under the thinner navy shirt he had changed into hypnotized you, his mere presence, a certain quiet charm, tempting you to stay. And if was asking you to linger for a while longer… yes, it would be very impolite and you’d be your worst enemy.

After all, tea sounded like a wonderful idea for your suddenly parched throat.

“’Kay.”

His smile with a crinkle in the corner of his eyes was like a caress on your cheek, ending with his fingertips under your chin to tip your head back for a kiss.

You needed to get a grip on yourself. Fast.

As you sat down across the table from him and he set one of the cups in front of you, the strangely sweet herbal aroma washing over you as well as his attentive gaze, you caught yourself wrapping your hands around the cup not only for warmth, but for steadiness as well.

Your heart seemed too unsteady in the face of the handsome man, skipping a startled and entirely too pleased beat when you took note of him doing the same with his cup – almost comically small in his large hands – revealing an absence of a wedding ring.

Come to me.

Come, my love.

I’m all yours.

Heat flushed your face at your observation and at the painfully clear echo of a sweet voice, your head snapping back up.

Andy observed you with certain kind of curiosity in his blue eyes, wordless intensity that almost made his irises appear darker. It had your heart hammer in your chest with everything but fear. It was magnetic, almost coaxing you to climb over that damn table separating you and-

“Thank you,” you blurted out, nodding towards the tea, taking a quick centring breath and then cleared your throat. “You have a lovely home, Andy.”

“Thank you. It took a while but… I did make it into my own space.”

My own space, he said. A deliberate or coincidental choice of words?

Was he telling you, between the lines, that there was no one else and that he had noticed your ogling and didn’t mind, welcomed it even?

Or was it subtle reminder that you were but a guest invading on his own space and peace and his hospitality was nearing if not already overcoming its limit? People did not choose to live secluded like that on accident.

Mostly, you reminded yourself self-deprecatingly.

“Thank you for letting me into your home. I promise to be out of your hair soon,” you assured him. It earned you a disapproving frown.

“Nonsense. I’m glad you’re here. It’s pretty cold outside.”

“No kidding,” you muttered, lowering your gaze briefly. “I just… I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Meeting his eye again at his thoughtful hum, there was something infinitely warm in his features; it travelled through your veins, a shot of ecstasy of being wanted spreading into every cell in your body and making you feel light and anchored at once.

“Don’t worry, little bird,” he said, one corner of his lips rising higher in almost a smirk as your breath caught at the endearment rolling off his tongue with what could only be liked to indulgence. “That’s impossible.”

He held your gaze, your heart thundering in your ribcage, minute breaths coming out short by the minute as he seemed to lean in closer, stealing oxygen from your lungs, heat pooling in your belly. Fuck, he was so close, tempting lips framed by the beard you just knew would be soft and just the right amount of harsh against your skin, against the intimate flesh of your thighs-

“What happened at the lake?”

You startled in your seat a little, hands twitching, a powerful painful skip of a beat of your heart, the intimate bubble having grown around you popping with a loud snap.

“W-what?” you breathed out. “How did you know-“

“It’s the only body of water nearby,” Andy responded, voice perfectly levelled, oblivious to the cold fingers of fear creeping to the back of your neck. He smiled even, despite the concerned lines on his forehead. “Suppose you didn’t decide to get a dip in the fountain and walked all the way from the centre of the town.”

I’d never hurt you, little bird, I promise, his earlier words echoed in your head, followed by another almost haunting promise.

I’ll keep you safe.

And then, a sultry one:

I’ll keep you.

“Oh.”

You laughed nervously, shoulders slumping.

It felt so silly to be thrown off guard by his question; it made perfect sense he’d figure out you were by the lake. And you had to admit, that quip of his was quite funny too – as much as it was clear he added it to put you at ease.

“Eh, sorry,” you muttered, unsure where to look, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. Your hands found the cup again like a salvation; a steady point and the ideal excuse.

Taking a sip, you were shocked at the alluring taste; sweet with just a hint of something savoury, tingling on your tongue and sending pleasant heat all the way down your spine, euphoria exploding behind your eyelids. You didn’t remember closing your eyes but when they fluttered open, you imagined this was what seeing the world in colour for the first time after years of being blind felt.

You took another sip almost instinctively, certain it had to only be the first impression, sweetly warm liquid a blessing for your body; but it tasted just as delicious, striking every chord of your senses just right and beyond.

“Good?”

You refocused your gaze on Andy, his eyes firmly set on you, an almost mischievous twinkle in his irises.

“Like nothing I’ve had in my life,” you said bluntly, earning a chuckle and – was that a hint of a blush on his cheeks as he lowered his gaze a took a sip as well?

“Uhm, thank you. It’s one of my favourite blends I’ve ever made.”

That stunned you.

“You’ve made this? That’s incredible.”

Granting yourself another taste, you then set the cup down almost religiously. Andy watched you do so, a pleased smile in the corner of his mouth, having returned to holding your gaze, expectant.

Right. He had asked you a question before you experienced a little taste of goddamn Eden on your tongue.

You taste like Eden on my tongue, honey.

A shiver ran down your spine, your mind scrambling for the ice-cold memory of the lake, so wistfully distant and yet digging its claws into you all over again.

“And uhm, to answer your question. I just… I was by the edge, slipped and fell right in,” you said, shrugging it off to hide a different kind of shudder, freezing water as if beginning to pool at your feet, slowly swallowing your ankles and creeping up ad up…. “I didn’t-- the ice wasn’t too thick and I just--- it was… I barely made it out.”

You didn’t realize your hands had started to tremble as your voice trailed off, vision blurring slightly, until a warm hand covered it, steading your hold on the cup. The air had grown too thick in your lungs, making it difficult to breathe in; and then it was gone along with the water, with just a few words and a lingering touch.

“I’m glad you did,” Andy whispered, voice as gentle as his touch. “I’m glad you found this house too. That you’re safe.”

I’ll keep you warm.

I’ll keep you safe.

Concern. Care. A ghost of a promise you had trouble grasping, a voice so close to your ear you could almost feel the warm breath on your skin, but you knew that should you turn, you’d only see air. So you didn’t.

And you could not keep looking forward either, not anymore. Unable to bear the sincere weight of Andy’s words, you instead glanced at his hand enveloping yours so easily, so naturally; so right. As if it belonged there and always had.

But it didn’t, did it?

Your hands, you – didn’t seem to belong anywhere. Never had. No one had ever wanted you to stay. No one had ever cared enough.

Not until Andy.

“Well at least someone is…” you muttered absently, swallowing the sardonic chuckle.

And how pathetic was that? Not of him, but of you? A complete stranger, taking you home like a stray nearly-drowned kitten on Christmas Day, because no one else wanted you and he was the only one to give a damn.

Gods, how sorry he had to feel for you? How fucking lame was it of you to have even thought of him such sinful thoughts when all he must have seen was a-

A gentle press to your hand had you squeeze your eyes shut as to keep the tears suddenly gathering at bay.

“Hey now. What do you mean by that? I’m sure there are plenty of people who worry about you, family, friends… a partner,” he added after a brief hesitation and was that not a case on point.

Of course he was hesitant.

Why would there be one? Who would want you as their partner?

You scoffed.

“Sure,” you echoed.

Heavy silence settled over the room, suffocating and itching, only interrupted by your slow wavery breaths. Andy’s hand remained over yours, as motionless as he seemed overall; a scene frozen in time.

Was he judging you? Resisting the urge to laugh at you? Pitying you? Or did he feel nothing at all, so profoundly disinterested now that you slipped so carelessly, opening up?

That was how things always were, weren’t they? Once façades began to crumble, once people started to reveal true colours, they were vulnerable to judgement; and with the mystery cracked like an old toy, the intrigue was lost, along with their interest.

Was that what was happening now? All the kind care, all the sweet words Andy had said, losing meaning because they never held one in the first place?

Swallowing thickly, you looked up, unable to bear not knowing, preferring to tear off the band-aid at once.

A lump grew in your throat as you caught his eye, worry etched into his expression, a soft frown above an even softer gaze. Compassionate. Gentle. And laced with an inexplicably deep understanding.

He might as well be staring into your soul.

And you didn’t know how; but suddenly the dam just burst.

And you told him all, barely pausing to take a breath.

You told him about having been the pariah all your life, about feeling so alone, only finding solace in nature and fables and myths, at never being enough, for your family, for your friends, colleagues and boss… and clearly for every single one of your boyfriends since two of them had simply left and the latest one hadn’t even had the decency to leave before jumping into someone else’s bed.

About being but a side character to your own story, because no one ever believed you could be important enough to be the lead. And perhaps not even you; not anymore.

But the funny thing was that as the words spilled, you didn’t sob once. As if someone had untangled your tongue and the coil of pain in your chest at once, you went through tender, achy points of your life as if you were listing important plot points of someone else’s story, someone you did not even care for, really.

You wept silently, voice hoarse but steady, tears of not pity nor rage but cold comfort streaming down your burning cheeks.

You sipped your tea in between and all you felt was relief; speaking these things to a man who was basically a stranger, a stranger who showed you more kindness than all people you know had in a year and judged you less than all your past company combined,was incredibly liberating.

It felt like letting go. It felt like dropping dead weight you hadn’t realized you had been carrying, just so you could rise to greatness.

And something unreadable in Andy’s unwavering gaze whispered with tender determination that he believed that was exactly what you were meant to do for some reason.

His thumb ran over the back of your hand, having relaxed in his grip, turning it over to caress the sensitive skin of your wrist, sending a pleasant tingle all the way down to your toes.

“You deserve so much better than your family’s poison, little bird. As for those assholes, the last pathetic piece of shit in particular… well, I bet he doesn’t even realize what’s he lost, he’s just that daft.”

Normally, you had tendency to defend Jason when anyone bad mouthed him, the habit sticking for days after he had revealed himself to be a lying cheating bastard; but now, you remained quiet, a corner of your lips even rising up in a genuine smile as Andy’s finger seemed to draw a nonsensical pattern over your skin as if he wasn’t spitting profanities. Your gaze, tears having already dried, lifted to meet his.

You felt warm; so thoroughly warm as if your bones had been never known a day of summer, achy in the constant cold, until now.

Until this strangely charming man whose silence could speak volumes, whose words felt like a balm to your soul; because unlike when spoken by others, his words threaded lace as tenderly as a spiderweb around the wounds in your heart, cradling it with gentleness and a promise of steadiness.

You couldn’t put your finger on it; something about Andy made you want to believe. And to give in; to anything. To give in to something you hadn’t even realized you had buried and was now creeping its way out to the sun, eager to bask in his comfort and praise.

And gods, the quiet powerful outrage in his voice made your heart flutter, your core stirring with heat and whispering that ‘pathetic’ was the last thing that came to Andy’s mind when looking at you. The heat having taken permanent residence deep within you had nothing to do with the warmth of the bath or the tea and everything to do with his ever-present touch, the rich timbre of his voice, his undivided attention.

“And you’re never alone, little bird.”

Gods, he was handsome; almost maddeningly so. He must have chosen secluded life, you thought; attractive people like him had it easy, people agreeing with them left and right, tripping over their feet to be in their social circle and tend to their needs, bask in their light.

And he was quiet, respectful and so incredibly inviting, making you open yourself up and wishing to be seen, because being seen by him meant being appreciated; it was too much to resist.

“I’m sorry I sprang all this on you,” you said, so dully in comparison to the power behind his own words, but as you did, you realized you should be apologizing. In fact, you should be going; it was getting dark and as lovely as Andy’s attention was… burdening him with your past was the least attractive thing to do and the crawl of embarrassment found its way out onto your skin, your hand retreating from his. “I… I don’t know what got into me. I should go; I definitely am overstaying my welcome at this point.”

Andy tilted his head, brows creasing; not in quite in anger, only discontent. 

“I told you; that is impossible. We haven’t even finished the tea,” he pointed out, already reaching to pour you another cup. “And I’m glad you got this out of your chest, it feels like you needed that. And I was happy to listen… as much as I feel like someone should teach your asshole ex how to treat a woman as precious as you.”

You gulped at his last words, the flutter in your heart inevitable at his praise, your exhale slow and shaky as Andy’s fingers carefully found your hand again once he finished serving the tea. You hesitated in retreating your hand again, the touch almost electrifying.

You were flattered; so awfully flattered and absurdly needy for this man and his attention which seemed to go way beyond what you could imagine in your wildest dreams.

It would be so easy to be convinced to stay a little longer, perhaps explore what turn the afternoon, evening or even night might take; which was why you had to leave. Because this was not you.

Was it?

Andy’s fingers interlaced with yours, his voice dropping to a murmur. “If I had a woman like you, I’d cherish her every day. I’d treat her like a damn queen.”

You couldn’t explain it; the sensation came as sudden as lightning from clear skies and just as powerful; his words like a tender kiss to your throat, right over your carotid, your eyes fluttering shut, your breath stuck in your lungs.

A hazy image of a living room, a cup with a couple of swallows drawn in thin lines on the coffee table, fading into a blur as the focus shifted on one of the armchairs; you sprawled in it like a queen indeed, one hand laid on the armrest in a fierce grip as your fingers interlaced with those of another, the other hand tangled in his hair.

Bare thighs held apart by Andy’s shoulders wedged in between, a large hand pressing firmly against the flesh of your inner thigh as if burning a brand, his tongue licking deep into your pulsing channel, his beard the most delicious burn against your sensitive folds, his groans and your moans mingling in music of eager lovers, head thrown back with your throat raw from the cries of his name.

“Andy, please-“

The potent jolt of pleasure in your core snapped you back to reality with a gasp on your lips, furious blinks focusing your vision back to Andy’s face; there was a gleam in his eye, but it was his smile, so genuine as he squeezed your fingers reassuringly, so damn gentle and completely unaware of how aroused and wet you were, that had you feel a pang of shame in your gut.

What was wrong with you-

“Like you deserve. You deserve so much better and so much more, little bird.”

You deserve everything.

I will give it to you.

You’re mine to keep and cherish-

“Thank-- thank you,” you stuttered out, head swimming with the echoes of the poignant image, swearing you could feel brands tenderly burned into your skin where Andy had touched you, a tingle in your core as he tasted you so indulgingly, an echo of his beard burning your intimate flesh--- except Andy had not done either of these things outside of your messed-up head.

“Nothing to thank for, little bird,” he said, a lopsided smile adorning his lips even as his brows creased in a soft frown. “We’re missing something here. How would you feel about cookies with your tea?”

Staying for another cup of tea was a terrible, wonderful idea.

Basking in Andy’s presence with his attention focused solely and so unwaveringly on you flushed your cheeks with heat and kept stirring the barely containable explosive attraction to him; but worst of all, it lowered your inhibitions bit by bit, your confidence, as shaky as it was these days, growing under his touch and seemingly genuine interest.

Interest in you.

You had long abandoned the idea of him viewing you as completely pathetic; and with each inch of space between you disappearing, your heartbeat was picking up. With each half-smile, with every question about what you considered the most boring cliché parts of you, you were being pulled into his orbit, intrigued by the lack of sharing information about himself all the more.

“I’m not all that interesting, little bird,” he said when you asked. Instead of an answer, you were gifted another inch of distance erased, his stormy blue eyes boring into yours. “I’d rather hear all about you.”

He was a beautiful puzzle; and the more enigmatic he appeared in comparison to you as you stripped a layer after layer of yourself, the more you craved to figure him out.

And with every entry into his mind kindly denied, you found yourself craving to explore him in the physical world then at least.

To feel the muscles of his arms shift under your palm, to confirm his lips tasted as sweet as the tea he had been drinking with you, to find out just how much of a mark his beard could leave behind when his lips trailed down the column of your throat, over the sensitive skin of your thighs. The need burned within you, causing you to shift in your seat several times already in search for friction, your body almost beyond your control as you turned your still connected hands so your smaller one covered the back of his, most of your willpower focused on not slipping your fingers under the hem of Andy’s sleeve to brush your fingers over his forearm, the very forearm you could almost feel pressing against your throat softly as he pushed you against the wall and drove into you with wild abandon, over and over until your knees could not hold you-

“Give me something, Andy,” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady as you felt your breathing quickening again with the unholy images painted in your head. “What do you enjoy doing? What is your favourite meal, favourite colour, season even… scent or taste?”

Oh honey, you know my favourite taste.

I’ll have you taste it on my tongue once I’ve had my fill.

A scorching shudder rushed down your spine, your hand automatically reaching for your cup as your throat turned dry for the n-th time in Andy’s presence.

“I enjoy working with herbs,” he admitted after a while, an absent, fond note to his voice. “Essential oils. Natural remedies. Teas and… others--- What?”

For the first time in a while, his words did not provoke a visceral reaction; not the kind that kindled the crackling heat within you. Rather curiosity and admiration, your smile softening without your permission.

“I know you said you’ve made the tea… hell, probably the essential oil for the bath too.” He nodded in confirmation, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. “It’s just… I would have never guessed. You…”

“What is it?”

You chuckled, shaking your head, worried you’d offend him not by your thoughts, but by your clumsiness. But a squeeze on your hand encouraged you gently, having you lick your lips as you gathered your scattered thoughts.

They all seemed so scattered in the past hours, gathering only for all of them to be pulled to Andy and the intense stormy gaze of his.

Storm. Danger and freedom. Freedom to be.

“It’s silly, you just… you seem like the kind of person whose mind is always racing. This… quiet force, keeping to yourself, intelligent, so strictly rational,” you tried to explain, already feeling like you were failing.

“Are you saying I’m a madman for my interests, little bird? A charlatan?”

Something flashed in his eye, but not angry; challenging almost, tantalizing, making your breath hitch.

Try me, honey.

Oh? Look at you, giving up so easy.

Giving yourself up to me.

You shook your head, both to erase the sultry voice in your head and the sinful images it painted and to deny Andy’s words.

“No. I’m saying many people would argue that trusting herbal remedies and nature’s healing power is everything but rational. But-“

“But you are not one of those people, are you?” he finished for you, a slow smile spreading on his lips, just a hint of condescending that seemed to pull you in closer despite your better judgement. “You know better than that, little bird, don’t you?”

Let me, honey.

Let me and I’ll teach you all you need to know.

You gulped, willing your lips curl up in a smile. “I do. That’s why I keep coming back from the city. Nature will always feel like home.”

Andy hummed, a satisfied smirk that felt like a lick straight up your core settling on his lips, causing your free hand to curl in a fist at the sudden blissful assault on your senses--- gods what was happening with you?

“Speaking of power… you called me a quiet force. What did you mean by that?”

Caught off guard in more ways than one, you cursed the slip of his--your tongue.

“Well, I didn’t mean that as a bad thing-”

“Explain it to me then, little bird,” he coaxed, gaze hypnotizing you, seeing so deep you were sure he was becoming aware of the effect he had on you, if he hadn’t known the whole time, that goddamn smirk of his almost wolfish, a taunt you desperately wanted to respond to as your body had been for hours now. “If it’s not bad, what is it?”

It was obvious it had to be the opposite then; but he wanted you to say it. There was no denying the heady tension in the room, setting your skin aflame; there was no denying he was flirting and he was not at all subtle about it anymore and yet, the cold silver of insecurity whispered to you that you should hold back, hold up the last defence before he could destroy you completely.

“Sometimes… there’s power in silence,” you whispered, honestly and yet evasively. “It makes words even more powerful then.”

He considered your words for a moment, gaze flickering down to your lips, your tongue instinctively flicking out to wet the sudden dryness.

“So you’d rather we sit in silence?”

But you make such beautiful noises for me.

Don’t hide from me.

Let me hear it all.

You were going to suffocate.

You were going to suffocate if Andy’s hand didn’t move, didn’t grasp your wrist and pulled you up, his body colliding with yours so your lips could meet and he could drink the answer straight from your mouth just for his other hand to sneak between your bodies to tease and taunt you with his fingers, sliding so easily into your sweatpants, his clothes like a claim on you, more of a claim to have them pool at your feet as his fingers finally breached you-

Your breaths were coming out short despite your efforts to slow them down, your core pulsing as if you had been kept on the edge of bliss for hours, knowing the feeling all too well despite never having had a lover attentive enough to bother with even five minutes.

“Not-- not quite. I like… talking to you.”

“Mmm, me too. Why is that?”

You shrugged with a shaky smile, shifting in your seat and rubbing your thighs together as his voice, that damn voice, Andy’s and the sultry one in your head sounding just like him, felt like a relentless teasing in its own right.

“I--- I like hearing what you have to say. And I… like your voice. It’s warm… gentle.”

And sinful. Powerful.

So powerful you could command me to get on my knees for you and I would, without a single thought, stripped bare if you wished so, lips parted for you and awaiting, dripping down my thighs like I am now, pleading for you to use me, basking in your possessive touch, gentle or rough or both, crying my voice hoarse when begging for more-

The potency behind your own thoughts had you jump to your feet with a loud scrape on a chair that seemed to barely rattle Andy as you slipped from his grasp, his gaze simply following you, the smile remaining on his lips.

“I should go-“

He straightened in his chair, forearms leaning onto the table, his sleeves riding up just an inch, the silver of skin causing your head spin with the urge to touch it, to lead him to lay it over your own throat as you’d walk backwards toward a wall-

“Stay, little bird. It’s already dark and… don’t you want a reprieve from the chaos, from the terrible behaviour of your relatives?” he questioned, both reasons somehow seeming like but an afterthought. “You should stay. I have a guest room if that’s what you’d like.”

But I don’t think you do.

I think you want something else.

All you need is to ask, honey.

Ask and I’ll make sure gods themselves hear your cries when you shatter for me over and over and still beg for more.

“I-“

He reached out for your wrist, long fingers circling it easily and pressing just a little.

The touch rushed through you like a wildfire, whiting out your vision.

A large sculpted body covering yours, lips drinking hungrily and sharing the sweet tangy taste on his tongue as you whimpered, craving more and more and more. One hand circled around your wrist to keep your hand pinned next to your head, his free hand roaming, pinching, squeezing, until it settled on your hip, grabbing firmly to guide you as he thrusted into you, so deeply and fully, his tongue wickedly exploring your mouth and swallowing your every plea to never stop, his name the only thing in your mind and on your lips, your other hand fisting the sheets as you desperately tried to meet his thrusts halfway; to have him reach deeper, to own you, to mark you, to make you his, only you, only him, always.

The pleasure pulsed within you as strong as if you were just there, nearly causing your knees to buckle, your hand barely catching onto the edge of the table.

And all of sudden all you could see was Andy’s face, smirk wiped off to make space for concern as he towered over you, one hand firmly holding yours while the other carefully rested on your hip to support you.

“Are you alright, little bird?”

No. No you weren’t.

You were losing your goddamn mind and he was not helping and you should go whether it was dark or not, because if you didn’t, you’d grab Andy by the hem of his stupidly ordinary shirt that was hiding the most delicious body and you’d kiss him deep, begging him to do to you all the things your mind had conjured in his presence, pleading him to have you however he’d like, to use your body in the most depraved ways he could think of.

“I’m fine,” you choked out, stepping back hastily and on instinct beaten into you – verbally and more than once literally – since childhood, you grabbed your empty cup and walked to the sink, feeling Andy’s worried and bewildered gaze on the back of your head as you started the water.

The worry etched into his gaze just before you escaped his grasp – so genuine and kind – made you wonder just how out of your mind you were.

How much of the flirting you had imagined as an aftermath of hearing a voice so painfully similar to his giving you promises dripping with sin? How much of it had been real? Your own body was your worst enemy, betraying your attraction to the man who hadn’t hesitated to help you, respectful when he had had all the chances to take advantage---

Just how much of his actions had been sincere, nothing but selfless aid to a person in need, that your brain had twisted into a desire of his to mirror your own?

Your hands trembled as you washed the cup, the echoes of pleasure still travelling through your body, now soured with doubt and fear of your own wild imagination.

Andy’s warm presence behind you made your breath hitch, tension building in your back as all your body called for was to drop the damn ceramics and lean back to his front, rubbing like a cat in need of affection, to grasp his hand and lead it to the apex of your thighs and just press to relieve some of the painful throbbing. He reached around you to stop the water as you stood taut like a bowstring about to snap, feeling his breath fan over your cheek, your lips parting to taste it on instinct, eyes falling shut.

Please, you wanted to whisper or scream, not sure what you would beg for. Just please.

“No, little bird… queens don’t do the dishes. Less so when they are guests in my house.”

You gulped as you felt him take the cup from your now motionless hands, setting it down carefully to the sink, the heat radiating off his chest too much to bear.

“I’m… not a queen.”

The words were meant to be filled with humour, self-deprecation even, but you barely spoke at all, throat almost too tight to get the words through.

“I will treat you like one,” he promised, a tempting rumble in his chest, his lips mere inch from your burning skin, his beard scratching it just slightly, sending you spiralling into madness. “If you let me.”

Let me, honey.

Let me break you in ways you didn’t know you always yearned to be broken and then put you back together.

Ler me claim you.

And fuck, you should go.

You really, really should go, but as you opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the window, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as if you had a fever, his presence the problem and the remedy at once, you couldn’t will your feet to move.

As if trapped in his orbit as he watched you in the reflection too, eyes as dark and burning as coal, his gravity pulled you in; you turned your head towards him, hesitantly meeting his gaze, instantly finding yourself trapped in it.

Scorching heat licked at your core, spreading through your veins like a wildfire when his fingers traced along your jaw, lips hovering so close to yours as if still asking permission and yet, his thumb pressed against the corner of your mouth as if he was the one who couldn’t contain himself. You shuddered violently at the simple touch, your muscles clenching harder as not to fold and lose your last crumbling defences.

Why resist, little bird?

You’re already mine, aren’t you?

Always have been.

“Stay, little bird. Stay and I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated… loved on,” he coaxed, gaze flickering to your lips having pressed in thin line to contain the whimper threatening to spill; his thumb brushed over your lower lip and tugged lightly, leaving no hope for the next needy sound not to escape. Gods, the spark of lust in his eye, the satisfied drop in his voice at seeing your body betray your desire, gravitating towards his. “That’s it. Let me show you how precious you are. How beautiful… how tempting.”

He released your lips from his touch only in favour of skimming his own over your mouth, nothing short of a temptation, as if you weren’t already seduced by the sweet promise alone.

Shock of pleasure rippled through you at the barely-there contact, images flashing though your mind anew, Andy kneeling between your legs as you lied sprawled in the armchair, your body trapped under his so sweetly and torturously as he filled you like no other, his lips devouring you as you laid facing him on the very bed, bandaged hand on your hip, his dextrous fingers sneaking to tease you open for him, his hardness pressing against you, his name a breathless plea falling from your lips.

And as the mirages dispersed, the throbbing need stayed.

“Please,” you heard yourself whisper and for the second time today, the dam broke, letting all you had been keeping for what felt like eternity spill out without control.

The second his lips fully pressed to yours, you were lost and felt finally found.

Explosive desire all but set you aflame as his hand moved to your hip to spin you just so he could corner you against the sink, his other hand grabbing the back of your neck to keep you steady.

And fuck did you need to be kept steady, because his lips didn’t explore carefully; he devoured you right away, your desperate whimper swallowed by his tongue licking into your mouth, your hands having somehow scrambled to grip the fabric of his shirt and fisting it as you pulled him even closer, every inch where his body touched yours a salvation by hellfire; every empty space between you like icy winds. 

Coming out for air felt like drowning in the frozen lake all over again, body only warmed by Andy’s lips tracing a burning path down your throat, the zipper of your hoodie tugged down, fabric pushed aside to reveal the painfully stiffened nipples under the thin fabric of the henley, a satisfied groan vibrating against your carotid as Andy cupped your breast a flicked his thumb over the hardened peak.

He might have as well relentlessly played your body for hours, the surge of pleasure causing your hips to meet his in a frantic search for more, your head spinning. You were burning. You were burning and you were cold and you were going to lose your damn mind unless he spun you around, tore your clothes away and filled you up with his cock this very fucking second-

“Andy, please-“

“Please what, little bird?” he chuckled darkly, the scrape of his beard and the huff of air against your throat unfairly spine-tingling.

His hand sneaked under the henley, fingertips brushing over your belly, over your ribs, squeezing your flesh higher and higher, his other hand carding into your hair and not quite tugging, but keeping it in a firm enough grip to prevent you from escaping the assault of his mouth on your throat.

As fucking if you wanted to escape this-

“I need you,” you choked out, feeling the desperate tremble in your body.

Somewhere back in your mind was a small voice wondered how you had never needed a man like this, wanted yes, but not like this; you craved him. For this, for his touch, for his mouth back on yours, for a single point of contact you’d claw your way out of hell.

You released the dead grip you had on his shirt just to slide under the fabric and the pulse in your core at finally truly touching him was nothing short of unholy and you needed more.

“Oh honey. What do you need from me?”

He rocked his hips against yours, his hardness pressing briefly against your mound and you whimpered, your knees nearly buckling.

Yes, yes, yes, again-

“Maybe this?” he suggested huskily as he repeated the motion against your arching body, a cry escaping your lips, feverish words you no longer had a control over spilling as the all-consuming fire licked at your insides.

More, more, more-

“Yes. Please--- touch me, take me-- make me yours- please”

Andy stepped back, your body suddenly feeling freezing cold, his hold on your hair easing so you could face him as he stared straight into your eyes – the perfect picture of desire personified with crimson lips curled in a smirk and irises almost swallowed by how wide his pupils were blown. Absurd fear of him rejecting you now, now after he had given you a taste, filled your lungs like icy waters, reluctantly melting as his broad palm made its way down your front torturously slow, fingers almost absently tangling in the laces of your sweatpants as he stopped just so far from where you needed him the most.

He held you gaze just as you held your breath in anticipation, his fingers sliding under the hem of your sweats, under the waistband of the boxershorts and lower and lower as he spoke, the sight of him hypnotizing like eyes of a predator to a willing prey.

“Oh little bird, that is exactly my intention,” he assured you, barely audible over the roar of blood in your ears, your whole body vibrating with need. Please, please, touch me- “But I’ve been a good host, haven’t I? So I think--- fuck, you’re drenched for me, so fucking needy--- that it’s time for me to feast and taste as much of you as I want.”

You didn’t quite hear him over the whine crawling out of your throat as he dipped his fingertips in your slick only to quickly retreat his hand and leave you so torturously empty again.

But gods, he kissed you and you could breathe again even as it wasn’t enough, his grip on your hip steering you to move, to walk backwards, your vision a blur, all your senses swallowed by Andy; his hot lips and skilled tongue, demanding touch echoing your own, grabbing you, searching almost frantically for places he hadn’t explored yet, mirroring your own greedy hands, your sweatshirt lost somewhere on the way as he steered you to the right, your nostrils full of his scent and the sweet aroma of the tea indeed having lingered on his lips—and suddenly you were stumbling and falling, soft landing in Andy’s arm as he lowered you to one of the armchairs, pulling at your sweatpants and boxers at once, his touch finally back where you craved it more than anything you ever had in your damn life, his name a broken prayer on your lips.

And then his lips were gone from yours, trailing down your neck, a graze of teeth that made you see stars, his thumb circling your sensitive bud and causing your hips to jerk into his hand, a sweet chuckle dripping of sin filling your ears.

“So responsive, little bird, so needy… don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need,” he vowed, your eyes opening half-mast only to witness him retreat and sit back on his heels, his hands planted on your knees, mouth attaching to your inner thigh just above your knee, a poor substitute to the taste of heaven his thumb had offered you.

He was tormenting you; he was tormenting you, denying you what you craved, not only stalling but stalling further, his mouth leaving hot wet trail up your drenched inner thigh, the sensitive flesh burning under the soft scrape of his beard, your legs spreading in mute yet urgent plea. And still, he continued indulgingly slow; your hand twitched as to move and give yourself some relief, but an instinct warned you that it could only prolong your torture.

“Andy-“

He smiled at you from where he had just pressed a bruising kiss to your flesh, eyes dark as the night itself, glimmering in the dancing flames of the fireplace reflecting on the goddamn mug you had spied earlier too, reminding you of how his lips had touched the edge of his cup with indulgence, how he had met your gaze as if he had known, as if he had known already he was about to drink from you.

It was not enough; nothing was enough, and you shifted in his grip, your hips sliding lower on the chair, core pulsing in emptiness.

“Please, please, Andy, don’t keep me waiting, I need you-“

One of his warm palms sprawled over your lower belly, pressing hard to keep you still, his tongue licking a languid stripe up your skin glistening with your juices, and he was so so so close-

“Fuck, honey, you taste so sweet… such a vision, begging for me so prettily.”

You didn’t recognize your voice as you sobbed in frustration of being praised in vain when he didn’t touch you when you NEEDED IT--- and then you were throwing your head back as wave of ecstasy washed over you, Andy finally flicking his tongue over the cut of you.

You grabbed the armrests with such vigour you might worry about breaking it had you not been delirious with want, hips bucking forward and this time, Andy had mercy on you – he groaned at the taste of you, licking with indulgence, twisting his tongue just right, his hold on you easing as the pressure inside you built and built and you were meeting his advances with enthusiasm, your hand finding purchase on his hair, to ground yourself, to beg him to continue without words because you had no voice.

You were tittering on the edge of release, every single cell in your body singing praise to Andy’s name for the waves of bliss almost reaching you, when his hand found yours and tore it from the armrest, fingers interlacing with yours and squeezing.

You would have never thought that could be your undoing, but it was.

Stars exploded in your veins and you tasted stardust on your tongue, a raw cry torn out from your throat, your back arching as white-hot pleasure shot down your spine and curled in your core with the heat of supernova being born.

And it wasn’t stopping. Andy wasn’t stopping, instead he pushed harder against your hips as you writhed against the overwhelming sensations, his tongue curling and breaching you, tasting the very depths of you and your cries were a breathless plea to the gods to have mercy on you and to Andy to give you more and more and more-

His pleased groan resonated in your bones, the force of bliss nearly shattering them to dust for the winds to take; but instead, Andy’s grip on your body moulded them into something torturously  beautiful and divine, the sound pulled from your lips nearly unhuman as you fell apart, the world tilting from its axis and balancing on the only steady point of the damn universe, on his hold on you, his tongue gathering proves of your undoing with lustful glee, his thumb drawing circles and swirls over your hipbone in silent approval.

By the time his mouth finally retreated, you were shaking, chest rising and falling in rapid successions, your vision blurry with tears as he rose to his feet and released your hand in favour of cradling your wet cheek, the forefinger of his other hand following the salty path of your tears, painting your swollen lips with them tenderly.

Even with vision unfocused, you were all too aware of the straining fabric of his pants, of the lustful glimmer in his eyes, lips shining with your arousal curling in an almost sweet smile.

“You’re stunning when you fall apart for me, little bird. Even more so than I imagined,” he declared softly, so painfully softly you couldn’t but whimper at the praise, the sound muted as his thumb pressed against your lips much like back in the kitchen, this time pushing its way inside your mouth, gaze zeroing on the eager reaction of your body.

You sucked his finger right in, almost blinding desire bursting in your belly, a carving for just a taste of him, for feeling the weight of him in your mouth as you’d swirl your tongue around him, heady aroma of sex filling your head. You needed. You needed to feel him and your hand acted without your permission, reaching to stroke his hardness, to move to kneel in front of him right there and feel the hard floor against your knees because it wouldn’t matter, it would be fucking privilege to-

Andy’s hand landed on your shoulder, light but firm, his eyes still feasting on you hungrily sucking on his thumb with a heart-stopping smile, tongue sneaking out to lick his lips as you still reached to feel the weight of him in your hand at least, moaning around his finger as the true craving – to have him fill you where it mattered the most – rocked through your entire body.

“So eager, little bird… but not now,” he retreated his hand from your mouth, gently slapping away your hand from him and pulling you to your shaky feet instead, body flush to his, lips on your ear. “You asked me to make you mine and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

You weren’t sure how exactly you got upstairs between stumbling on your boneless feet, your greedy hands and all-consuming assaults of his lips on yours; but what you were all too aware of was how whenever his lips detached from your mouth, you were already missing them as if it had been eons, and when he released you from his hold in order to strip his pants and boxers and to rid you of your top, it made your body cry for his attention all the more.

You had but a glimpse of his length and it made your mouth water, your core pulsing in desperate emptiness all the more painful when he sat on the edge of the bed and you could finally take him in your hand, appreciating the smooth warmth length, precum leaking, inviting you to stroke him and sink onto him right away.

“Come to me, little bird,” he husked, tugging at your wrist to have you straddle his thighs, hand like a burning brand landing on your hip, already pushing you down as if you needed encouragement.

His name fell from your lips like a prayer when you felt the head of his thick cock catch at your entrance, hips bucking in foolish need to take him all at once, to have him fill you to the brim.

“Yes, little bird, I’m right here… look at me.”

His broad palm cradled your cheek, sliding along your jaw to grip just a little too tight and force you to meet his hungry gaze even as your own irises must have glazed over when you slowly begun sinking down on him, satisfaction and greed shooting through your veins and curling in your lower belly, your thighs shaking with effort to hold yourself back.

Until you couldn’t.

With a desperate whimper you pushed your hips flush to his despite the slight tinge of pain, the reward of white-hot pleasure all-consuming, Andy’s groan like the sweetest melody and a soothing caress down your back.

Fuck, he was breath-taking and you could die right there and hell you would die if you didn’t move, didn’t feel the deliciously thick length of him drag slowly through your pulsing walls, driving into you again and again, filling you like no other, slow, fast, deep, sloppy, it didn’t matter, you just needed more, you needed to move, bracing on his broad shoulders, nails digging into his bicep, you needed-

He pressed firmly on your hip to keep you still, your cry of despair at being denied swallowed by his mouth, his smile wicked and addictive, only feeding your desire to feel him more, your muscles straining as you fought to rock your hips just a little, needing the smallest friction like your life depended on it.

And Andy wouldn’t let you.

With strength beyond comprehension, he held your middle in a cage, his mouth having never ceased to devour you as his free hand slid from your face, fingers trailing over your collarbone to your breast, fondling all too briefly as you tried to arch into his touch, before he moved on over your belly, pads of fingers circling in the slick dripping down his length, a languid caress where you were connected like a bolt of lightning down your spine urging you to try and thrust forward only to remain achingly still, a whimper pushing past your lips.

It bordered on cruelty; your core pulsed with such force it almost hurt, every cell in your body as if on fire only Andy could quench but instead continued to tease you, groaning into your mouth as he indulged at the sensation of being sheathed in your throbbing warmth.   

The relief when his fingers retreated was a punishment all the same, the second his touch disappeared your body crying for it to return. His lips detached from yours just as his palm sprawled over your lower belly, so full of him, his voice a rumbling siren’s song as you felt sweat running down your back from the tension taunting your muscles.

“You feel me, honey? Feel how deep I am?”

He watched you with hooded gaze, predator boasting at catching his prey in a deadly trap she so willingly crawled into, your core spasming at the hunger in his dark eyes hypnotizing yours, half-mad with the animalistic desire.

“Yes-“

With a satisfied hum, his hand retreated again, causing you to whimper because no, that was where you wanted him to touch you, you wanted it everywhere, you needed him to keep owning you—

“Fuck-“ you sobbed as his fingers trailed over your throbbing clit, your walls clenching around his length, your abdomen trembling with effort to fight his grip and chase your release. “Andy, please, I-“

“Oh, but this isn’t just about you, honey, is it?” he scolded you gently, hoarse voice dripping sin and satisfaction as he returned to petting the apex of your thighs, the sensitive flesh gripping him like a vice and it was just not enough. “I wonder how long you could keep still on your own if I asked you, how long until you’d beg me-“

Not a second longer was the answer, more so when he twisted his hand so wickedly that long fingers continued teasing your entrance while his thumb circled your clit, agonizing need rushing through you like an electrical current, your whole body arching and yet staying so painfully still, writhing in his hold, tears of frustration gathering in your eyes.

“Please, please, please, please, Andy, love, please-“

His fingers stilled, ceasing their torture and yet it felt like denying you further until just as your sob pushed past your lips, his hand gently cupped your face, so painfully tender it had your wet eyelashes flutter, a sudden reprieve as Andy’s gaze seemed to trapped you outside of time and space and your own body; it felt like a sip of fresh water on an unbearably hot day, his damp fingers tracing the lines of your face, something flashing in his gaze, something you could not hope to comprehend but felt so achingly soft.

“Gods, you’re a vision, little bird, so beautiful… so thoroughly and undeniably mine, aren’t you?” he whispered, something akin to reverence in his voice as he continued to brush his fingertips over your skin as if committing you to memory.

And then he was kissing you; your breath caught at the unspeakable delicacy of the kiss, even his beard feeling softer as his lips carefully danced against yours, almost meekly, as if you could dissipate into thin air if he pressed too hard. The disparity to his previous advances was staggering, your heart fluttering, tears gathering in your eyes for an entirely different reason. He was just so damn soft.

“Andy…”

His smile against your lips was just as delicate as his kiss, your heart stumbling in your chest when you found him observing you with glassy eyes, his thumb, still carrying the heady aroma of your juices, brushing over your lower lip lovingly.

“I’ll give you everything I have, love… can’t seem to deny you,” he mused, one corner of his lips twitching up, his hand slowly sliding down your body, appreciating every inch of flesh in its path, his touch growing firmer as he went, his lips nearing yours again, his deadgrip on your hips releasing at last, speaking his next words directly to your mouth and angling the world from its axis all over again. “Take what you need, little bird.”

The words cut through you like a bolt of lightning, burning through every fibre of your being at once, the violent desire having been building through the past hours slamming into you at once, twice as hard, impossible to contain.

A breathless scream tore from your throat.

You cried out Andy’s name, your body acting on an animalistic instinct of chasing pleasure now that it finally could, nails digging into his shoulders for support as you rocked your hips against his with wild abandon, head thrown back in ecstasy every drag of his length through your tight walls sparked anew, coil rapidly tightening and undoing in your belly as it wasn’t nearly enough, never enough, more, more, more-

“Fuck--- that’s it, honey, keep going-” he groaned, hand stroking your back slick with sweat, his other hand gripping your ass cheek to guide your movements just the tinniest bit to your mutual pleasure.  

And you listened, chasing an unreachable peak, grasping at Andy’s neck, moving closer to his still maddeningly clothed torso, bouncing up and down, grinding your pelvis against his and it was not enough, not with your hands so firmly planted on his shoulders when your thighs alone quivered with exertion, a rare catch of his shirt against your clit nearly making you see stars and pushing them away from your reach all the same, fingers fisting his shirt in breathy outrage.

“Andy, please-“

“I’ve got you, honey.”

Next thing you knew your head was spinning, your body achingly cold as you were tossed on the bed on your back, Andy’s touch gone; and then he was hovering above you, his warm body completely bare at last, stretching over yours as he sheeted himself in your heat in one single thrust, stretching you to your limit again and feeling like heaven and hell combined.

His mouth captured your needy whimper when he once again remained all too still, one of your hands, having started to explore the god-like body of his, grasped at the wrist and pinned next to your head in an exhilarating display of control, leaving an ounce of it for you too as you jerked your hips against his, over and over, unable and not wanting to stop for even a moment, because you could feel it at your fingertips, the taste of pleasure unparalleled awaiting you when you’d come around his cock and felt him spill inside you.

The thought alone had you writhe under the soothing and yet frustrating weight of Andy’s body, his kiss tinged with amusement before he released your lips, setting them free to chant his name.

“Patience, little bird. I told you I’ve got you.”

And by gods, he did. He did, pinning you to the mattress and driving into your tight channel over and over at almost punishing pace, his hand sneaking between your bodies to swipe up the juices smeared all over your and his thighs and toy with your swollen bundle of nerves, blinding pleasure lighting you alive.

“Yes-“

“You feel like fucking heaven, honey. Will never have enough--- come for me. Give it to me, show me you’re mine-“

Falling apart felt like scorching heat consuming your body, burning every single cell in its wake, a shuddering breath of Andy’s name like a prayer rising from the ashes back to life, his spent filling you to the brim just as you were being reborn.

And so was your need.

You had never felt anything like it, the crushed seeds of logic in your mindless haze whispering of how this shouldn’t be possible, how you should be beyond sated but with every taste, with every peak, each more powerful than the other, your thirst was not quenched but rekindled, your limp body craving more, more, more; more of this, more of Andy, more of anything and you would die unless you’d get it.

You could barely focus your gaze on Andy’s face hovering above yours, a bliss having flushed his cheeks pink and his eyes with tantalizing glimmer, his fingers tender as he pushed your damp hair from your face.

“Please…” you rasped, not recognizing your voice anymore, blood rushing past your ears wildly. “More.”

His smile was soft, a gentle press of his lips to your forehead and the slightest rock of his hips against yours pulling a desperate keen from your parched lips.

“Do you want to be truly mine, little bird?” he asked, his voice grave and raspy as his breath fanned over your face.

“Yes!”

“Truly? Bound to me?” he continued, the words not carrying any meaning, his voice, gods, his voice, like a caress over your inner thigh, like a touch of bliss somewhere deep within you, in your very soul, a promise of endless pleasure. “You’ll be mine, mine to love and keep and protect… and I’ll be yours…”

Anything. Anything, just more, more-

“Yes- Andy, please.”

A peck to your lips, then another to your cheek and one to the corner of your mouth; each sparking a flame licking at your womb, causing your muscles to spasm, your hands, now free of his hold, grasping at him, nails dragging down his back, urging him to move inside you, your hips buckling pathetically as all your energy had been burned out while your need pulsed with life within you all the more.

Please, just-

“Bless you, little bird, I waited for you so long and did not even know… tell me you want me.”

“I want you-“ you sobbed, vainly pulling yourself up to be flush against his body.

“Need me-“

“Need you. Only you- please.”

“As you wish, little bird.”

All of sudden, a flash of ice-cold clarity cut through your haze, an agonizing stutter of your heart in your ribcage.

The low lights of the bedroom reflected on the blade which seemed to materialize in Andy’s hand out of thin air, a gleam of determination in your lover’s eye.

Wincing helplessly under his heavy weight, you squeezed your eyes shut, your life – a good life, not bad at all –flashed before your eyes, a muffled cry of confused want and utter terror escaping your lips as you tried to make yourself as small as possible.

You could feel him shift above you, inside you, the smallest motions sending almost nauseating desire through your body still, tears of overwhelm gathering in your eyes and spilling over as your heart fought for every last beat you’d be given in this life.

You were going to die.

It was the most absurd thought flying through your head, a painful chuckle almost tearing through your lips; you were about to die, mad with arousal for you own murderer and should anyone ever learn, you were going to turn into inspiration for a cautionary tale for the very books you had been reading since you were a child. Or perhaps those on serial killers.

You didn’t want to die!

“N-no, please, please, Andy-“

It was pathetic. Voice hoarse from having pleaded him to fuck you, for more and more and more; it was almost a foreign voice and yet undeniably yours, somehow still laced with devastating desire not to live, but to be ruined by his cock over and over, still thrumming deep within you.

A low grunt and a hiss; droplets of thick warm liquid landing on your forearm, coppery smell tickling your nostrils.

You couldn’t help it; you always had been morbidly curios, hadn’t you?

With a shuddering inhale, you cautiously blinked your eyes open, heart once more skipping a painful beat, your hand twitching to cover your mouth.

Features twisted in mere discomfort, Andy glanced from his right palm – from the crude deep cut on his own palm – to your face, grimacing as if only now his pain registered, eyes wide with something other than lust and satisfaction for once.

Compassion?    

“Don’t worry, little bird. I’ll be gentle and I promise it will hurt for but a second,” he rasped, your body turning rigid with horror. “Stay still for me, love.”

And you did.

Mutely, with but shaky breaths on your part and his, his grasp on your left wrist was shockingly tender as he laid your hand on the sheets, staining your skin with crimson, his blood seeping into the fabric below. His gaze held yours just as gently, something apologetic and warm in the thin ring of blue around his blown pupils.

You inhaled sharply at the sting of pain, a whimper of Andy’s name pushing past your trembling lips and then it was gone. From the corner of your eye, you could see the blade, having appeared so suddenly, disappear just as fast.

Andy’s thumb stroked the heel of your palm, his lips curling softly in a smile, the hand which had held the blade moving to cradle your cheek.

“Are you ready, little bird?”

As the fear slowly dissipated, you left the forgotten hunger for his body creep in slowly, blooming from your core through your belly, your chest, through your limbs all the way to your fingertips and toes, warming every single muscle, every nerve ending, tingling in your lips, growing and growing with every rapid beat of your heart, a shudder rushing up your spine at the gentle onslaught of want.

A single beat of your heart, two, three, four- and then it slammed into you with force of a star being born in midst of chaos, back arching, muscles straining with instinct to continue chasing the carnal pleasure, hips thrusting up as you felt Andy stiffen inside you again with a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re ready, love,” he hummed, lips slanting over yours, stealing your breath, every minute roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy through your system bordering on pain he drank straight from your mouth.

His hold crept from your wrist to your hand, fingers interlacing, palm sticky with blood pressing against your own wound.

You wailed.

The guttural sound rippled through you just as you hit another peak, Andy’s thrusts stuttering with a curse on his lips as your walls gripped him in a vice, your whole body spasming with paralyzing waves of euphoria, tears springing from your eyes.

Your body floated. You’d swear, had you had any control over your lips, that your soul ascended to another plane of existence. Nothing held you chained to earth anymore. You felt free and weightless and full of light, all-consuming but so so warm and soothing you felt a sob tearing from your chest, a distant sensation of your lover – your lover, your love, your everything – spilling inside you, his lips pressed to your throat, his weight on you, his gentle hold on your hand the only things grounding you and wrapping you in an overwhelming feeling of safety. 

Your name, softly spoken; whispers of little bird, tender pets to your hair.

Growing aware of your body trembling in aftershocks, whatever unbearable pressure you distantly remembered crushing you finally released you from its clutches. You opened your heavy eyelids, a blurry image of a stunningly handsome man, Andy, all you could see; and you were at peace with that.

He still held your hand firmly in his, leaning over you, worried gaze roaming your features as you felt your chest heaving with slow ragged breaths.

“Andy…”

“I know, little bird… it was almost too much, wasn’t it,” he whispered, your heavy eyelids slipping shut again, a tender kiss landing on them.

“Mmm… ‘most,” you echoed, exhaustion settling in every fibre of your being now that feeling of deep contentment washed over your body, cleansing you of the insatiable hunger.

“That’s my pretty little bird.”

A brief peck to your forehead was the only warning you got before Andy’s warmth slowly lifted from you, oh so carefully sliding out of you, a vague sensation of your nose scrunching in discontent reaching your brain. He squeezed you fingers too, you thought, but his voice sounded as if from miles away.

“I’ll be right back, honey.”

His retreating steps were the last sound you heard before sleep took you into its merciful arms at last.

You didn’t feel the careful touch of a warm cloth washing away the proves of intense love-making from your most intimate flesh, nor the kiss to your hipbone. You didn’t feel another cloth wiping away the blood from your hand, couldn’t see Andy’s pained frown at the shallow cut on your palm, nor you could hear the hoarse whisper as he traced his fingertips over your wound, erasing it without trace, a weak smile passing his lips.

No one but him could see him even as he felt thousands of judging eyes on him when he walked back to the bathroom, washing the blood off of his hands and tearing away a strip of clean cloth to wrap around his own palm, tightening it more than necessary with every tug, the throbbing pain only justified; a fraction of punishment that should be inflicted on him, a lump growing in his throat as he dreaded and couldn’t wait to walk back and lay on his bed, sharing it with someone after endless years of solitude.

Leaning his hands on the sink with a shaky exhale, he hung his head low even as something so light and beautiful thundered in his ribcage, fingers flexing, the fresh wave of pain pushing him to look up. The face starring at him from the mirror was one of a selfish monster; a selfish monster craving love just like any other being with hot blood pulsing through its veins.

He just wanted to love and be loved. Was that really so wrong of him?

It didn’t matter anymore; he’d made his choice and made yours as well.

Stepping back into the bedroom, he found you sound asleep, somehow having turned to your side, facing the door as if you eagerly awaited his return and the dreams took you too early. The frown on Andy’s face softened, something sweet humming in his heart, the lump in his throat releasing just a bit at how peaceful you appeared.

Circling the bed, he stretched alongside your body, propping on his elbow to feat his eyes on you.

You glowed with wild beauty, hair a soft tangled mess around your head, skin still flushed, kiss-swollen lips parted, bare skin of your tempting body enticing him to touch.

My little bird.

I’ll keep you safe.

I’ll keep you warm.

You deserve everything and I will give it to you.

You are mine to love and cherish and protect.

With a sigh releasing the immense pressure in his ribcage, he brushed his lips over his fingertips before bringing his forefinger to the side of your neck. Drawing tender lines, his touch trailed to your nape, down your neck, over your shoulder blade and shoulder, a swirl of ink left in its wake reaching gently over your collarbone almost to your breastbone. Curls as delicate as your soul, thin petals of wild flowers and trees; and surrounded by the beauty of nature, a little swallow.

Content with his handwork, pressing a soft kiss to your nape, Andy laid himself behind you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush to his chest, your soft warm body moulding into his perfectly as if it was always meant to be.

He draped covers over you both to keep you warm as he had promised.

Slowly pulled into consciousness by fingers carding through your hair as gently as if threading through dreams, you felt your lips curl in a brief smile, the sensation of a warm firm body wrapped about you protectively rousing you from your sleep with finality.

Just as slowly, the events of yesterday came back to your memory like an echo, echo of freezing-cold water, all-consuming need and overwhelming relief found in Andy’s arms, in Andy’s bed.

That was where you were, feeling just as relieved; just as light even as sleep still weighted your body, delaying your movements and making them sloppy, your hand landing ungracefully on Andy’s chest, his quiet chuckle causing you to purse your lips and finally will your eyes to open.

The first sunrays were peeking through the bedroom window, casting light to the warm space, illuminating Andy’s form from behind and giving his tousled hair almost supernatural glow; and yet it was nothing compared to the soft glow in his eyes as he watched his fingers toy with your hair, as his gaze met yours, dreamy, with a tinge of concern.

“Good morning,” he husked, voice warm and gentle like a cup of coffee on a cold winter afternoon.

“Gd mornin’,’” you muttered in response, causing a brief smile pass his lips, before his brows drew together, his dark blues roaming all over your face, his fingers trailing down your cheek.

It was a little unnerving, the attention, your awareness of just how much of a mess your appearance had to be after a long wild night spent tangled in the sheets insistent in your mind; and the fact you were still completely naked save for the duvet Andy must have covered you with did not help your case.

He did not seem to mind.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a changed woman,” you replied without as much as a thought, only to be surprised how true the words were.

You did feel different; transformed, for the lack of a better word. A huge weight you hadn’t been aware you had been carrying seemed lifted, aches and worries in your heart and mind soothed, the only ache remaining being a pleasant reminder of last night. One brief flash of fear; a memory of a blade and blood, yours and Andy’s – but where you could see a cloth wrapped unceremoniously around his hand, you realized you could flex both of your hands without as much as discomfort.

Before you could ask – why your hand carried no mark while Andy’s carried a potentially still bleeding mark of something you did not understand and yet seemed to understand better than yourself – he spoke, hesitance lacing his voice.

“Well… you are. You are mine,” he whispered.

The thought sent a surge of warmth through your chest, a smile unwittingly spreading on your lips. Feasting your eyes on the man who had indeed made you yours quite thoroughly, his unfairly handsome features made you almost oblivious to how quiet and shy he sounded; and how fast his heart thundered under your palm.

“You’re bound to me now, little bird, as I am to you. Forever.”

Forever mine.

Forever yours.

You blinked, unsure what he meant and yet; the sincerity and gravity of his words left no doubt that he was sharing a profound truth. A quiet, powerful presence of an ancient entity not to fear but certainly respect hummed in the depths of your ribcage.

In your silence, Andy moved his hand so the pads of his fingers now lad tenderly over your collarbone, instinctively drawing your gaze, air catching in your throat in awe.

Dark indigo-like ink adorned your skin, stretching from the curve of your shoulder as far as you could see over your collarbone and cleavage, a breathtaking piece or art; a love letter to nature etched onto your body in simple precise lines without shading. You heart raced in your chest as you reached out cautiously, fearing the tattoo you did not remember getting might disappear.

It did not; but images filled your mind, images of your bare body standing in Andy’s bathroom, your back to the mirror, glancing over your shoulder and marvelling at the intricate pattern, delicate leaves and swirls as if protecting a small bird; a swallow.

The astonishment stayed within you as your gaze refocused on the inked skin of your chest, your mind a whirlwind of confusion. You would say with certainty you had never stood in the bathroom like that nor admired the tattoo; and yet, you were absolutely sure, somehow, that this was what your back now looked like, this was what you would see if you walked to the mirror and made the image true.

Your stomach fluttered, a tingle of caution; and still, no matter how much you tried to make sense of why, you were not scared. Curious, rather; fascinated even.

Glancing up at Andy, you found him watching you closely, his eyes brimming with careful hope and expectation of a blow to his face at once.

“How?” you breathed out, his unhappy grimace deepening.

The sight twisted your heart.

You were lost; and yet it seemed he was the one needing guidance and support and all you yearned for was to give him exactly that.

As you placed your hand on his cheek, already missing the sensation of his heartbeat, his eyes fluttered shut, a shaky inhale rattling his ribcage. He nuzzled into your touch, a soft scratch of his beard against your palm. His hand slid to your waist, fingers flexing briefly as he met your gaze, his eyes a storm of emotion.

“A bonding like that… requires three elements of a body; saliva, seed and blood. Once exchanged, along with your consent and with the drop of potion in your tea… we belong together now, little bird. And… there’s no force on the earth that could tear us apart.”

Your pulse skyrocketed at the gravity of his words.

It sounded terrifying; it sounded definitive.

It sounded wicked.

And it sounded right.

It should scare you, a low voice whispered in the back of your mind, but it was drowned in the melody of your heart finally finding peace.

Forever. No force on Earth that could tear us apart.

The echo of the voice having been with you ever since you fell through the ice and nearly drowned washed over you sweetly; if felt like coming back to a safe harbour after years and years spent on a raging sea.

You didn’t understand technicalities; you did not understand at all. But you understood how the fact this was right was everything that mattered.

That and the fact Andy was watching you now, perhaps even more overwhelmed than you, awaiting your reaction to the confession because that was what this was. A confession. No matter what his words would have said, the weight of his transgression was written in his cerulean eyes.

And your heart ached and called for his.

Sliding your hand to his nape, you shifted closer, slow enough to see his eyes widen and lit up with hope before you brushed your lips over his, a pained sound in the back of his throat almost making you stop; until his fingers flexed in the flesh of your waist and gripped, pulling you flush to his chest, free hand sliding under your cheek to angle your head and deepen the kiss, your lips parting in invitation and a plea.

Like a spark of life to your body; like a drop of the most precious of wines on your tongue. Exhilarating. Addicting.

“Oh little bird…”

The soft cautious voice turned warmer, lighter and heavier with desire all the same as both his and your hands began to roam, every touch like sunbeams shining from within your bones, your body arching against him in instinctive search for bliss.

“What if they come looking for me?”

Andy smiled as you blurted the question s, licking into your mouth instead of an answer and making you keen, the hold on your hips encouraging you to meet the roll of his own.

“They’ll never find you, love. This house does not exist in the earthly realm, not for most of the year… don’t worry, little bird.”

That piece of information should worry you, yet you could not bring yourself to care enough; instead, the tingle in the back of your mind whispered of earthly plane and other realms, of forces beyond comprehension, tales remembered from childhood of unhuman entities coaxing people into their grasp with a promise of what their heart craved.

Feeling the thunderous heartbeat under your palm, the warmth and firmness of Andy’s body, there was no denying how wonderfully alive and human he was; and yet, words of potions and bonds and forevers were telling a different tale.

“What are you, Andy?”

Another smile, mischievous as his touch trailed down your chest over your belly, along your hipbone, grasping the back of your thigh to lift it so he could slot one of his muscular legs between yours, the delicious friction against your rapidly dampening core causing your thoughts to scatter.

“Does it matter?” he whispered to your ear, teeth nibbling under your earlobe, drawing a whimper from your lips.

No. No, it did not. The one thing he was was devious, his lips chaining one kiss after another along your throat, your head thrown back as your nails dug into his back.

“I’ve had many different names, little bird. The only one that will ever matter to me is the one falling from your lips as shatter for me again.”

The image was almost palpable, Andy’s soft hair in your fingers as he lifted you towards the stars and yet; another question, much more urgent, cold fingers of doubt creeping along your spine, threatened to put the flames of bliss igniting in your body out at once.

Forever was a long, long time, no matter how much of a hyperbole Andy could have used.

And in your experience, men did not love for even half of it or less and chose their forever with much more care than he had.

“Why me?”

Andy’s body turned rigid for a moment, safe for his head snapping up to search your gaze, the wheels in his head turning as he tried to decipher your tone.

You willed yourself to hold his serious gaze even as your heart raced, worried you had overstepped; worried you might get what you bargained for. Heartbreak.

Whatever Andy found in your gaze – be it pride or desperation – it drew a sigh from his lips, his touch retreating from your intimate flesh in favour of grasping your hand and linking his fingers with yours.

“The moment you fell into water… I knew you were mine and always had been,” he said slowly.

Your breath hitched, threading uncertain waters again, in more ways than one.

The moment you fell into water… he knew. Whatever that meant. The moment you fell-

The moment you heard him for the first time. The voice, even as it had been veiled with mystery at first, the voice you later recognized as his own pleading for you to fight. The very moment…

“I… I think I heard your voice,” you whispered, certain you’d find laughter in his eyes, because what you were saying was absurd, a figment of imagination of an extremely stressed mind, but there was no trace of it. Not at all.

Warmth, yes. Humour? Not in the slightest.

“Yes, that’s possible.”

“But… how? Why?”

Sighing again with a gentle squeeze to your fingers, he let his other hand wander, soft pads of his fingers brushing over your skin, following the lines of your tattoo with his touch and sight alike, speaking lowly, almost absently.

“Time is an illusion, little bird. An elaborate one, but only an illusion. On Christmas Day, the veil surrounding it is the thinnest – that is why people who come to the blessed lake on Christmas Day and cut though the ice do glimpse their future. Those who fall in… they literally soak their body in the ability.”

“Ability…?” you echoed weakly, your breaths coming out shorter as intangible weight settled in your chest. “Ability to… glimpse into the future? No, that’s not--- not-”

Flashes. Images of you looking over your shoulder, a precise picture of a tattoo you had yet to see, Andy kneeling between your legs as you laid sprawled in the armchair, his body draped over yours, hand pinned next to your head, his bandaged hand on your hip as his lips devoured you on this very bed-

“Little bird?”

You opened your mouth, no sound coming out, your head spinning as the images replayed in your head, over and over, hazy and yet sharp, details you could have not imagined, not truly. “I-- yesterday, I saw these… flashes, I was sure they were-”

You gulped, cheek flushing with heat at the admission, your gaze fixed on Andy’s chest, unable to meet his eye until his fingers slid under your chin, tipping your head back just a bit, his gaze intrigued – and serious.

“…fantasies.”

A little smirk passed over his lips, a flicker of mischief that soon gave way to something softer and graver. “But they weren’t, were they?”

You shook your head, even as the glaring truth was only now dawning to you.

“I saw this too. I think? Maybe. Your injured hand… and I think I saw-- I have a swallow on my back, don’t I?”

His eyes widened, a speckle of pride in his gaze as he slowly nodded.

“Yes. I’m sorry, little bird, I know it’s difficult. From what I know it is hard to make sense of these images. Those who bath in the lake at the sacred time…” he trailed off, a frown twisting his gentle expression, another sigh leaving his lips. “If they survive, they are bound to fall into madness, the strain on their mind too great.” 

Your heart stopped.

It must have, because the sudden stab of ice-cold fear tore straight through it, blood crystalizing in your veins.

You couldn’t breathe. A few words and the icy waters of the lake surrounded you all over again, filling your lungs with thousands of needles, the glassy shards all around you pulling you under, pulling you down, down, down-

“But--- but does that-“

And just as fast, a warm firm grip pulled you back up, a protective cage of hands cradling your face, gentle and steady, your vision reducing to pair of fiery blue eyes.

“No. No, because you are mine. We are far from the earthly realm and you are bound to me the most potent way there is. And if, if that’s not enough, I will find a way to protect you even if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

I’ll keep you safe.

I’ll keep you.

I’d never hurt you.

You’ll be mine, mine to love and keep and protect and I’ll be yours.

Your heart was soared, tears gathering in your eyes at the warmth radiating from Andy’s palms alone. There was no space for doubt left whatsoever. His blazing determination would scorch the entirety of the earthly realm he had spoken of and leave nothing but ashes if it meant keeping you safe.

And that, that was exactly what made no sense; because you had not encountered a single human being in your whole damn life that would feel a fraction of the affection Andy seemed to harbour for you in less than a day.  Nothing was as real as his hands on you, as the sweet ache in your body from yesterday, and yet this, this could not be real.

“Why? Why of all people, why would you choose-”

“I told you,” Andy said, just as passionately, pleading for you to understand. “You fell and I knew better than anything that you were mine and always had been.”

You didn’t understand. But perhaps you did. Or you would.

Perhaps that was what he meant when he said time was an illusion; right now, you did not know, but you would and that was all that mattered, because you might as well know already.

Your head spun, pressure building behind your eyes and yet you could not tear your gaze away from the soft storm in Andy’s eyes.

Let me, honey.

Let me and I’ll teach you all you need to know.

“So what… it was fate?” you muttered, the words, yet again, absurd to your own ears.

Andy smirked, the expression so out of place and so perfectly fitting to his handsome face your stomach made a little somersault. Releasing you from his grip, he simply continued to cradle your cheek as his other hand began to toy with your hair, his smile softening as you felt yourself relax at the tender yet playful action.

“Fate is a series of deliberate choices, little bird,” he said, letting the strand of your hair fall only to wrap another one round his finger. “I… I made my choices, some of which I am not proud of, and you made yours. You chose to come back to your hometown. Chose to escape the family gathering. Chose to walk to the lake and try your luck looking at the water surface with shy hope – because years ago, when you were still a child, you chose to read a particular book of legends.”

With every word, your heart was picking up again, hammering in your ribcage, your mind latching onto pieces of information Andy could have guessed but spoke with unshakable certainty.

But then, the look in his eye was painfully tender you shuddered at being at the receiving end, thoughts scattering again, reducing themselves to one single thought.

No one. No one had ever looked at you like that.

“Much like you chose to help out a little bird back to its nest when only a child yourself. Chose to release a spirit of a baby swallow mere days after, perhaps even unwittingly calling luck upon yourself that would once find its way to you.”

“How- how do you-”

“I told you. I knew when you fell. Because I got to glimpse beyond the veils of time too,” he explained gently, letting silence stretch, allowing you to process the information that was nothing short of absolutely overwhelming. Mind-blowing.

He had seen; he had seen parts of your life no one even knew about, moments you barely remembered. He knew about a small, meaningless act of kindness years and years ago, he knew-

The sudden realization stuck you like a lightning, a choked sound born in the back of your throat, a breathy whisper.

“Little bird…”

“Yes,” Andy confirmed, just as quiet, gaze glimmering with affection as his fingers moved from caressing your hair to your shoulder, reaching behind you, blindly following lines of a tattoo you knew were there and now knew why. A small swallow amongst the leaves and swirls. “And that’s your why. All these images of your life, past, presence, even future, flashing before my eyes. They showed me all of you. Who you were, how good, how sweet, an innocent soul with faith in forces of nature and beyond… you were perfect. You are perfect, little bird. And I couldn’t let you-- not when I knew what might happen if I--- I knew you were to be mine and I wanted to be yours. I steered you, just a little and I knew it was wrong of me to meddle with your life and I knew I should have let you go… but even when I did, your steps lead to me still and then you were here, and I-”

Your fingers silenced his laments, confession and declaration all at once, a simple touch to his lips working like a charm, his eyes falling shut.

Your heart was beating so vigorously you were sure it would beat its way out of your chest.

There was so much to process, so much to feel, so much to understand and thread through; but at last, you understood two things.

One: this truly was meant to be, be it fate or series of choice or divine intervention.

Two: he needed to stop.

“You saved me.”

Andy shook his head, taking your hand into his and holding it to his chest, lips barely moving as he whispered.

“No and it’s not that simple. My voice and enchantment might have helped, but you saved yourself. And since the moment you did, since you came in, I’ve done things, wicked things to have you-“

You recalled the scorching need for him, the bath, the tea, his touch eliciting visions, little puzzle pieces falling into place, even as the image remained all too incomplete; the puzzle of him, a simple man with something extraordinary throbbing in his soul, a lonely man craving love beyond what you could possibly imagine, tortured way beyond what he had brought upon you yesterday and had soothed all the same and you couldn’t.

You couldn’t but forgive whichever transgressions he had committed if he was beating himself over them and his original intentions were threaded by something soft and pure.

It was your turn to cradle his cheek and wordlessly ask him to look at you and trust you.

Obeying, Andy hung onto your lips, two two pools of cerulean sadness awaiting judgement and asking forgiveness all the same, almost absurdly so, because you had a feeling that should he want to, he could have made you mad for him all over again, a drop of a potion, a flick of a hand, and you’d have no choice but to succumb to him.

But he didn’t.

It only solidified your decision.

“No, Andy. You saved me… your very own little bird,” you added with a smile tugging at your lips. “And maybe calling a little luck upon yourself in the process, I suppose. I—whatever you have done… it only sped up what I would have felt for you either way. And… if I was meant to be yours, if I am yours… then you were meant to be mine.”

A shaky inhale. You had never imagined a man of his built would spoke in such small vulnerable voice, but he did. A single word, tinged with careful hope:

“Yeah?”

“Oh Andy…”

Actions speaking louder than words, you pulled him for a kiss, soft, slow and deep, the softened flame of your desire flaring up again, this time with no doubts or unspoken questions.

His lips tore away from yours with an urgent plea.

“Show me, love.”

“Was trying to,“ you muttered, confused and a little hurt, only for Andy to shake his head and bring your hand to his lips, a tender kiss to your fingertips sending a tingle of electricity rushing through your body all the way to your toes. “Andy, what-”

“Think of us… of a pattern, a mark… much like your tattoo. If I am yours… where would I carry your mark?” he whispered, the fervour in his voice making your heart stutter in your chest.

Oh Andy.

You did not need to think for long; there was only one choice, truly.

As he squeezed your hand, enticing you to touch him as if that was enough to make the pattern appear, his gaze eagerly followed your movements as you carefully brushed over his sternum.

With a breathless chuckle on your lips, you watched the ink of a familiar colour – the colour of your eyes, you realized, only slightly darker, much like your own tattoo mirrored a darker shade of Andy’s eyes – draw a line of the pattern on your mind, perfectly matching your own. Over his collarbone; over the mass of his shoulder; over his shoulder blade.

As you retreated your hand, content with your handiwork, you caught Andy’s soft, so achingly soft gaze, zeroed on your awed smile.

Whatever he was – whatever he was beyond yours – he carried something good and beautiful in his very core.

“Thank you, love.”

A gentle kiss to your fingertips, another little jolt of energy; as he placed your palm over his rapidly beating heart, no ink spilled anymore. Before you could marvel at that, he captured your lips with his, a brief kiss before he sighed with emotion so profound you felt your eyes prickling with tears again.

“I think you saved me, little bird. And I will spend forever by repaying you.”

You didn’t know how long forever was. You didn’t know what awaited you, even as you soon might get a glimpse of it, but one thing you knew for sure.

“There’s no rush, love… we have all the time in the world.”

And in the earthly realm, just as Andy said, as soon as the clock struck midnight on a Christmas Day, the house disappeared from view; along with the woman, once a superstitious kid, carrying her to a happier realm she may never, ever leave.

And with the house was long gone, invisible and untouchable to mere human senses, the only trace of her left was but small droplets of blood on the white bark of a birch tree; giving birth to unearthly crimson blossoms as soon as the first spring sunrays caressed it with its warmth, the ices of the lake melting.

Complete masterlist

Andy Barber and misc masterlist

Phew... You did it! You finished reading!

If you find some time and energy, please, let me know if you enjoyed 🥺 Honest. This is one of my rare soft dark babies and I'm nervous as hell posting this and I obviously spent a lot of time on this one, so... hoe with me? 🥹

Thank you for reading either way 💕

BTW, the book referenced in the story is very much real and used to be one of my favourites as a teen. It’s Kytice by K.J.Erben (translated as A Bouquet of Czech Folktales, I cannot tell if it's a good translation as I haven't got my hands on it; or biligual version simply called Kytice).

P.S. everything is a oneshot if you post it in one go 😌🤭

[imyourbratzdoll]

me asking for that part 2 of the best friends dad and his best friends in the best friends bedroom xxxx

hello, honey, I hope you enjoy!

find part 1 here

summary - your best friend's dad and his friend fuck you in your best friend's room.

warning - smut, threesome, creampie, breeding kink, swearing.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You had been waiting at your best friend’s house for her to get home, she had said she’d be here, but the only two that were here were Ari and Andy, her dad and his best friend. Everything had been awkward and tense after what had happened that night. You entered your friend’s room, sitting on her bed patiently. Picking at the fabric as you wondered if you royally fucked up, these men meant something to you, but maybe you shouldn’t have let them use you. 

You look up as there’s a knock on the doorway, eyes connecting with their dark blue eyes. “Didn’t you say you wanted us to fuck you in my daughter’s room? Why are you acting so shy now, baby?” They move forward, caging you in as you lie back on the soft bed. 

“I thought…” You blink as their hands begin to touch your skin.

“Thought what, honey?” Andy directs your attention to him, smirking as your eyes become wide.

“You guys barely look at me. I thought you didn’t want me.” They chuckle, beginning to undo their pants, sliding yours down. 

They both crawl on either side of you, trapping you between their naked bodies. “Oh, darling. We didn’t look at you because if we did, we would’ve pounced and destroyed your little body.” Ari’s lips connect with yours, Andy’s lips connect with your neck, their fingers rubbing your swollen clit, and Ari notices you looking at the door. “Don’t worry about her. She isn’t even coming home today. I’m guessing you don’t even know about her little boyfriend?” You shake your head, whimpering as they slide into your tight little cunt, “Fuck, still so tight for us both.”

Andy grips your hip, plunging deeper inside you along with Ari. “He’s right, honey. You are the tightest fucking cunt I’ve ever had the pleasure of fucking.” You hold onto them, whimpering as they split you apart over and over again. 

Ari looks you in the eyes with a smirk. “You’re such a little slut, letting us fuck you in your best friend’s room, on her bed. Getting fucked by her dad and my friend.” He growls, gripping your chin so your gaze doesn’t move from his as he fucks up into you. “Do you like being our little whore?” You nod, whining as he slaps your cheek softly. “Words, slut.”

“Yes! Yes! I love being your whore! Love being used by both of you!” You whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head as they pound into your sweet spot, destroying you as you cum violently around their thick cocks. “Feel so good! P–please cum inside!!” Both men chuckle, cooing at you and calling you their little slut as their pace picks up, slamming harder and deeper inside you. 

“You want us to breed you, baby? Pump you full of us until you become round with our child? Imagine trying to explain that, baby.” You nod, clawing your nails into them as they release their cum inside you. Being true to their word, they pump you full. Their large hands land on your stomach, softly rubbing it. “We can’t wait, baby. You’ll be ours forever.” 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[writing-for-marvel]

"I dream of you. all i do, is dream of you."

If I Can’t Have Everything, Then Let Me Just Have You

Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Andy gets jealous of you talking with his colleague, you reassure him he’s everything you’ll ever need.

Warnings: age gap and although exact ages are never mentioned everyone is well and truly of age, jealous Andy

Word count: 700

A/N: this is for @nickfowlerrr’s the seven writing challenge - I spun the wheel for the seven deadly sins and got envy. A big thank you my darling friend @flordeamatista, queen of Andy fics, for not only providing the inspiration for this fic, but helping me with writing Andy for the first time and being my constant cheerleader 🩷 banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Andy hated attending after work functions with his colleagues. He could barely stand dealing with them during the working week, but then to also be forced to give up his Saturday night so his boss could show off the house his old family money had bought him was another level of torture.

You were his saving grace. Part of him felt guilty for dragging the woman he loved along to these grandstanding cocktail parties where you were forced to make small talk with people you didn’t enjoy the company of, but you were also the only person who stopped him from going completely insane.

But at this moment, while he was stuck hearing about how his boss’s fantasy football team was performing, as if he didn’t hear enough about it at the office, Andy saw red as he was subjected to watch Dylan, the office womaniser, chatting you up.

In the back of his mind he knew with absolute certainty that you wouldn’t cheat on him, but the reason his heart clenched and acidic jealousy bubbled in his stomach was because of what Dylan represented: everything Andy couldn’t offer you.

He wasn’t young anymore, he was well aware the prime of his life was past him at this point in time. He had settled into a comfortable routine which didn’t involve a thriving social life which he remembered having with Laurie when they were your age. He was surely not as flexible or had as much energy as a young man fifteen years his junior.

He wanted to be able to give you the world, but all he had to offer was the trauma developed from his tarnished past, which was still following him around like a shadow, his back problems, wonky knee and the remainder of his life which would be distinctly shorter than Dylan, or someone of his age, could promise to spend with you.

The root of his envy was insecurity.

And he was green with envy.

Excusing himself from the one-sided conversation his boss was having, Andy set off with purpose, making a beeline to you, only to find you were already making your way over to him. Relief eased the tension in his shoulders as your gaze found his and a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“Your colleague, the guy behind me, is a creep.” You commented, hooking your fingers through his belt loops and pulling him protectively into you. Andy leaned down and placed a small, sweet kiss to your forehead, not needing to look behind you to know exactly who you were referring to. A sense of satisfaction filled his chest with the notion that you were clearly averse to Dylan’s pursuits.

“That’s not what most young women around the office think.”

“Well he is.” You stated firmly, a look of disgust flashing over your features. “Why does it take me telling him I have a boyfriend to respect that I’m not interested. Why would I want a boy like him, when I already have a man like you?”

Andy smiled, coming to the realisation that he had no reason to be jealous. Perhaps he couldn’t offer you his callow youth, but he did have maturity and experience, which would surely be much more valuable in a devoted relationship.

“You are a dream come true, you know that?” In response to this you scrunched your nose and smiled in a way that made Andy’s heart fill with pure adoration and devotion.

You truly were all he would ever need for the remainder of his life.

“You’re my dream come true too, Andy.” Standing on your tiptoes, arms sling around his neck, you placed a delicate kiss against his lips, neither of you paying any mind to his colleagues who could be watching on. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

Taking a beat to commit the moment to memory, Andy made a promise to himself that he would never take his second chance at love for granted.

“Let’s go home, handsome.” You suggested, tugging gently on his tie with that mischievous grin which always promised a sinfully pleasurable time. “I have plans for us that definitely don’t involve the rest of you colleagues.”

[astheskycries]

Keep You Safe

Prompt for @stargazingfangirl18 's birthday bonanza!! Usually I steer clear of writing darker stories, but I know you love them so I had to try and join in on the fun. I hope you enjoy and happy belated birthday!!! I chose Andy Barber and "Babe is doing this for your own good", warnings for some dubious circumstances and mentions of kidnapping.

Masterlist Buy Me a Coffee  

It’s the silence that jars you. In your apartment there was always some form of noise, from the old AC unit to the muffled traffic of your busy Boston apartment, but this time you woke up to complete silence, as if someone had blocked all possible noise from the place.  

The second was the darkness, from the usual lights of the lit city and sun rising above the buildings to a jarring pitch blackness that makes it hard to catch your breath, the panic making it hard to focus on anything other than the pounding of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  

Warm, strong hands cover yours, a familiar voice gently shushing you as your back is slowly rubbed. “Shhh, it’s ok baby, just breathe for me...” He seems to wait until your heartbeat slows, seeming so kind that you can’t help your body relaxing at the touch. “That’s it, such a good girl...” The darkness slowly lifts, and you blink to adjust to the sight of a black silk tie in the strong hands of your boss. 

“M-Mr. Barber-” You stutter, trying to get your bearings but quickly noticing the shackle on your ankle and the zip ties around your wrists, ensuring you can’t fight. “I- how-” 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, everything is alright.” He hums, petting your hair like you’re his prized possession- a pet for him to spoil. “I made sure he’s been taken care of.” 

You frown, desperately thinking. “Who- who are you talking about, I live alone, just please let me go-” 

“Ransom Drysdale,” He hums, scowling at the mere mention of him. “After you mentioned him bothering you, I did some digging- he had you followed for weeks, sweetheart, I couldn’t let him get away with it.” You bite your lips, desperately trying to connect the anonymous flower deliveries to Ransom, but Andy presses on before you can speak. “So I made a few calls, gave some helpful tips about his money laundering in his investments, and made sure he wouldn’t hurt you again.” 

Taking a shaky breath, you nod slowly, allowing yourself to relax. “Thank you,” You whisper, seeing the proud expression on his face. “I’m a bit confused what that has to do with me being here, did something happen?” 

Andy chuckles lowly, slowly shaking his head as he continues to pet your hair. “Oh sweet girl, so innocent...” He smirks at your confusion, letting his knuckles graze your cheek. “You could have been in danger, especially if I hadn’t intervened. What would you have done if I hadn’t been watching out for you? What would have happened if you were grabbed by him, talked into following him home? I had to make sure you would be safe.” 

You swallow, a chill slithering down your spine. “What do you mean? Andy?” 

He smirks darkly, gripping your chin between his fingers. “I have to keep you safe, where you can’t get hurt. You’re just so trusting, sweetheart, I’m doing this for your own good.” He smirks, kissing your forehead as he rises. “Think about it, maybe you’ll be ready to talk about it more when I come back.” He winks before moving away, shutting the basement door behind him as you hear the telltale sign of the lock clicking in the door. 

Tags:  @janeyboo  @mylittlefandomfanfictions  @palaiasaurus64  @averyrogers83  @guera31  @soulmates8  @coffeebooksandfandom  @sweater-daddiesdumbdork  @pegasusdragontiger  @mizzzpink  @onetwo3000  @see-you-again-my-sun-and-stars  @sleepylunarwolf  @wheresmyplums  @smoothdogsgirl  @marvelouslyme96  @esoltis280  @jtargaryen18 @k-evans-writes  @rainbowkisses31  @buchanansebba  @katiew1973  @patzammit  @time-for-a-lullaby

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Prettier When You're Mine

Andy Barber x Reader

Author's Note: Slowly trying to finish a few of these ongoing stories.

Summary: One year into working with a young, bright and beautiful junior prosecutor, Y/n, who bears an almost uncanny resemblance to Andy’s late wife, Laurie, he finds himself developing feelings for her. Though, when she brushes off his advances, Andy proves that he’ll do whatever it takes to recreate his family.

Disclaimer: 18+ This work contains dark themes, including stalking, dub-con, infidelity and manipulation. Read at your own discretion.

Masterlist Playlist Chapter 5

Chapter 6

A trip to Andy's house to reclaim her lost ring causes tension between Y/n and James, and unveils some dark truths. Warning: dubious consent, SMUT/NSFW, coerced/forced sex. Please do not read if you are even remotely uncomfortable with any of these warnings.

Dumping the contents of her bag on the kitchen counter, Y/n hastily sifted through it. Compact, cell phone, a couple pens, a packet of tissues, wallet, loose change and no ring. “Shit, shit, shit,” she swore under her breath, on the verge of tears. It hadn’t been anywhere that she'd looked, not in her office, her coat pocket or even in the damn coffee cup she’d checked on a whim. Calls to the doctor’s office and the bus station as well as a visit to the coffee shop and the place that she’d bought lunch had also been completely unhelpful and Y/n was beginning to fear that the ring was gone for good. 

But it couldn’t be, not James’ mother’s ring. Precious family heirloom and the first material sign that she’d been accepted into their fold. 

For the millionth time that day, Y/n found herself asking; why me? Was it because she’d almost been willing to let things go too far with Andy? Because part of her wanted them to? Or was it because she’d gotten herself in a self-pitying funk over something she was supposed to have made peace with? 

Was it a sign that she simply didn’t deserve a man like James? 

Standing in the middle of their loft’s small kitchen, she didn’t feel like she did. Because how could she be deserving of him and still spend rare, private moments fantasizing about her boss- who had proven himself to be just like any other jerk in a position of authority. 

In retrospect, she should have seen the signs; his penchant for initiating physical contact, his apparent desire to know her on a personal level, his insistence that they work together. She couldn’t believe she actually thought he just saw potential in her- no strings, no expectations. 

“Babe?” Hearing the bathroom door open, Y/n worked quickly to clumsily repack everything into her handbag. She hadn’t told James that she’d lost the ring, and had spent the entire car ride home trying to hide her left hand.

“Yeah?” Y/n’s head snapped up and her frenzied gazed noted James standing near the foot of their bed, wrapped only on a towel, with his skin still damp and his hair dripping. “What?” Then, hearing the haste in her tone, she cleared her throat and tried again, “I mean….what’s up?” 

James’ lips fell again and he stuttered before continuing, “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to get Chinese,” he padded barefoot across the wood floor, “But I think I can ask you the same question.”

“If I wanna get Chinese….?”

“What’s up?” He quoted with emphasis, “Or better way; are you okay?” 

Sneaking a cautionary glance at her hand, Y/n dropped it at her side and didn’t dare make a move towards James. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Not believing her for a second, James shook his head and made the final steps towards her, rounding the kitchen counter so he could lay his wet hands on her shoulders, “No you’re not." He searched her teary eyes, worry pooling in his, “Did something happen at the doctor's?”

Sniffling as slow tears trickled down her cheeks, “I’ve just had a really rough day,” her voice broke pitifully and James didn’t miss another beat before pulling her against his chest. One hand cradled the back of her head while the other fell to the small off her back, and as she clung to his waist, she finally let a couple sobs break through.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" He probed gently. 

How was she supposed to tell him that she was irrationally insecure about them never being able to convince? Or that Andy had come onto her in a moment of vulnerability. Or that she'd lost his mother's ring.

"No," she whimpered, "Not yet. I just wanna….I just want to forget the whole thing." Forget that she'd always secretly want something she would never have. Forget that she'd lost a very expensive and precious symbol of their union. 

Forget that she was still thinking about what would have happened if she'd been brave enough to give in when Andy had come on to her. 

Forget that she was above betraying the man she loved. 

“Alright,” James murmured, kissing the crown of her head, “Well we don’t have to until you’re ready,” he added, lips still pressed to her hair. He was so good, so patient and she loved that. 

Andy was so brooding and dangerous, she liked that. 

Hugging James tighter, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut and tried to regulate her breaths; she didn’t deserve to cry about it when she’d come so close to acting on selfish impulse. They might have stayed like that for a while, if it were for her phone ringing loudly from where it sat on the counter. Sniffling loudly, Y/n pulled away and brushed her tears away with the sides of her fingers, “I should….” Trailing off, she moved towards the phone, sluming her shoulders when she saw Andy’s name on the screen, “Its my boss,” she reported sullenly. 

Coming to stand behind her, James rested his hand on her shoulder, “Just let it go to voicemail.”

Y/n sighed, “Its not that easy.”

“You don’t owe him anything,” James reminded before letting go of a heavy breath and reluctantly adding, “But if you feel like you need to then, I can’t stop you.” 

As James retracted his hand and started walking away, Y/n looked at Andy’s name on the screen and frowned as she glanced back up at her fiancee, “Don’t be mad, please.”

“Not mad,” he said, not looking at her as he tugged one of his drawers open, pulling out a pair of sweatpants, “Just….I’m worried about you, okay? This guy keeps you at the office at these weird hours and then today you come home crying.”

“What happened today has nothing to do with, Andy,” she lied, “He…he tried to help-”

“So you told him what was wrong but you didn’t tell me?” James knitted his brows, stepping behind the bamboo privacy screen that they kept near their wardrobe to get changed. 

By then her phone had stopped ringing and the screen had faded to black, “That’s not….I didn’t tell him. I was really vague about it-”

“Yeah, well all I got was you had a rough day,” stepping out from behind the screen in low riding sweats and a t-shirt, James moved to hang his towel on a rack they kept next to the bathroom door. 

“I…its complicated,” just then, her phone started ringing again, the urgency evident in the blaring tone, “I really have to take this,” Y/n snatched her phone off the counter and swiped the green icon. “Hey, what’s up?” Y/n answered cooly, defiantly matching eyes with James, whose gaze had hardened. 

“I have something that I think belongs to you.”

Knitting her brows, Y/n stuttered, “What?”

“Three carats-”

“You have it,” Y/n gasped; she must have lost it in the haste to vacate his office, everything had been so jumbled and messy, from her feelings at the time to the physical situation. 

“Yeah. Why don’t you come by and get it?”

Turning away so her back would be to James, Y/n drew in what she hoped would be a calming breath, “You’ve had it all day and said nothing?” She hissed as quietly as possible. 

“Well, let’s not get accusatory.”

“God,” Y/n suspired, “Are you at the office?”

“Of course not,” Andy sounded amused by the whole situation, like he was baiting her, and it made Y/n’s blood boil. “You should come get it, tonight. Wouldn’t want James to think you’re trying to seem like an available woman.”

Exasperated, Y/n sighed, “Yeah, well, I don’t know where you live.”

“I’ll send you the address now,” she heard the phone moving on his end of the line and then less than a minute later, her phone pinged with an incoming text. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

There was that name again, that involuntary thrill up her spine. 

Without another word, Y/n hung up and turned to James who was looking at her expectantly. “I have to go, some stuff came up late in discovery and its a lot so we’d have to start going through tonight to finish in time for Thursday.”

She wasn’t sure if James believed her, but he did play along, “Alright, well you should take the car,” he suggested and she was grateful that he didn’t offer to drive her. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, approaching her once more, that time grabbing the keys off the coffee table and pressing it into her hands from over the counter, “Go do your job, we’ll talk when you get back.”

Leaning over, Y/n smiled tightly and reached to cup his cheek with her free hand, “I love you,” she kissed him briefly, hoping to chisel away some of the lingering tension. 

James hummed softly, “Yeah, I know, I love you too.” When they broke, she grabbed her bag and coat quickly and hurried out of the apartment, letting a slow breath vacate her lips when she pulled the door shut behind herself; caught between being excited to see Andy again and combating worry over what would happen when they did. 

Stuffing the hand with the car keys into the pocket of her camel coat, Y/n inhaled deeply before bringing her fist to Andy’s front door. His house was nice, it was one of the first thoughts she had upon pulling up at the curb; it was kind of like the one she had in her mind when she thought about the perfect place to live; big enough to comfortably raise a family with a gable roof and big windows that made you wonder what was happening inside. It looked like something out of HGTV or one of those home and garden magazines- sweet and picturesque. 

“You came,” Andy determined when the door swung open. He was still half dressed from work; sleeves of his navy shirt rolled up to his elbows, black and blue tie from earlier gone and top two buttons of his shirt open. 

“Yeah,” she squared her shoulders and straightened her back, “Well I want my ring.”

Andy smirked and Y/n ground her teeth, “Its upstairs, come in and I’ll get it for you.” Y/n couldn’t tell if it was an invitation or condition but Andy didn’t leave room for explanation, instead leaving her to follow him as he turned and delved further into the house. 

The hall light was off, making the glow emanating from the kitchen up ahead to seem dim and ominous. Their shadows seemed bigger and in even in the low lighting Y/n could make out some of the framed photographs on the wall  and she slowed down to see some of them. She recognized the people, a woman and a teenage boy, from the one personal picture that Andy had in his office- a small, family portrait taken on what she'd assumed was a taken at a beachy resort, contained in a shiny gold frame. 

Mexico, he'd explained when he'd caught her staring once. The last vacation they'd taken before Laurie and Jacob's accident. 

It must have been so hard for him to lose everything like that, especially since he had no other family. Worst yet, he was still a social pariah; the things she'd heard around the office were brutal and they seemed to follow him around like a dark cloud. It was why she'd tried to befriend him when they'd started working together, no one should be that alone. 

But Andy had crossed a line.

Though, she hadn’t been very good at drawing one in the first place. Maybe she should have told him about James sooner. Maybe she didn’t want to. 

When they finally broke off into the kitchen, Y/n stopped abruptly and folded her arms defensively. Andy didn’t head upstairs immediately, instead he poured two glasses from an open bottle on the dark veined marble counter. “I think you’ll like this one,” he offered her the glass. 

Rolling her eyes, Y/n kept her arms folded, “I want my ring.”

“Have a drink,” Andy inched closer, causing Y/n to have to tip her chin to match his gaze. Swallowing a hitch breath, she tried to not react too much. He was so much bigger than her though, it was hard to keep the thrill contained. If the past couple months had taught her anything it was that there was a darkness that resided within Andy- behind the sad blue eyes and the strong silence was something akin to a tornado strong enough to rip an entire country to shreds. 

Dangerous and violent. 

And she liked it. 

“I don’t want one,” she countered definitely, his proximity chipping her resolve away. 

“I wasn’t asking, sweetheart,” Andy offered her the glass again, “Take it.” Reluctantly, Y/n relieved him of the glass but hesitated on taking a sip. Something might stir inside her when he was around, but it wasn’t trust. “Relax, I wouldn’t do that to you,” Y/n glared and in response, Andy downed his entire glass in one go, stepping away to fill it up again- that time a little more than the last. “See?” He took a generous swing, “I’m not that kind of guy,” he got close again, that time offering his glass for a toast, “To good men.” 

She’d called him a good man, that had aged pretty badly. 

“To good men,” she retorted sarcastically, taking a large sip of the wine. He was right, she did like it. 

“Do you like it?” Y/n could have been wrong, maybe she had a little too much faith in him, but his question seemed genuine. Like he was eager to know if he’d made the right pick. 

“Its alright,” the lie must not have been a very good one because Andy smirked. “I want my-”

“I know, finish your drink,” he gritted. Then, after polishing off his second glass at an alarming rate, Andy wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. With just the slightest stumble in his usually confident gait, he set the empty glass down with a thump and started walking towards the stairs, “I’ll go get you’re fucking ring,” he mummbled, leaving her downstairs without another word. 

Not thinking much of it, she took periodic sips of the wine. It was good, and judging by the label, it must have cost upwards of a couple hundred dollars, but it wasn't particularly strong- definitely not strong enough to get a man of his size drunk after two glasses.

That was when she put it together; the slightest scent of liquor on his breath when he’d answered the door, his outwardly aggressive behavior, the way he’d swallowed the wine like it was water- Andy was already drunk. He’d probably been that way since he’d called earlier. 

And he was obviously playing some kind of game with her. Laying a trap. Luring her to danger. 

On heavy steps, Andy returned downstairs about five minutes later, prowling towards her and prompting Y/n to absently inch backwards into the wall. “Your ring,” he held it up with a little, wicked grin. She put her hand out for it, but Andy took it instead, turning it over so her palm would be face down. Their chests were inches apart at that point and he kept his darkened eyes matched with hers, presumably in a defiant act above all else, as he slid the ring back onto her finger. “All better?”

Clenching her jaw, Y/n tried to pull her hand away but Andy tightened his grip and lunged; within the second his lips were on hers. Reacting instinctively, she kissed him back- it was completely impulsive, submission to a primal desire. She could taste the mixture of liquors on his lips and his kiss could have been as inebriating  as the poison he’d poured down his throat. She might have gotten drunk on him- she would have- But the minute she caught herself, deserting carnal yearning in favor of what was true and right, Y/n tried to use her free hand to shove him away. 

But he wouldn’t budge. 

Andy was solid, immovable. Like a gray stone wall or a bear boxing in its prey. 

She could feel a bulge pressing into her lower stomach, making it hard to focus

“Stop,” she fought against his lips, a frustrated noise escaping her lips when grabbed the wrist of the hand she as using to push against his chest. “You need to stop,” Y/n struggled against his hungry lips. It doesn't matter that she actually doesn't want him to, that she'd traded hours of sleep for fantasies that looked just like that. A moment where they'd be alone and he'd do things to her that James might be scared to.

But none of that mattered- they were fantasies and she was engaged.

When she attempted to use her legs against him- knee him in the groin or kick him in the shin- Andy reacted swiftly positioned both his legs between hers, consequently pressing his crotch against her.

“No,” he easily positioned her hands over her head, closing his fingers in around her wrists and pinning them to the wall above her head, rendering her defenseless. “You want this,” Andy snarled into her mouth, hooking his now free hand around the back of her thigh, guiding it harshly to his hip. “Say you want this.”

Wiggling against frantically, Y/n tossed her head back, hitting it on the wall, as she tried to tear her lips from his. “No, get off me,” she protested, voice rising above a harsh warning. 

Deserting her thigh, Andy brought his hand to her neck and held her like that for a moment, “We’re doing this,” he managed through gritted teeth, “I know you, you want this. All those nights we spent together, just the two of us. Everytime I asked you if you wanted to go home, what did you say?” He was squeezing her throat, applying enough pressure to limit airflow. 

“N–no,” it was getting harder to breathe and speak, and her vision was dancing  but something in the back of Y/n’s mind doubted that he genuinely wanted to hurt her, “I-I said….no.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re engaged?” He pulled her forward a little, only to slam her head into the wall again, though not hard enough to inflict any more damage than a sore spot. 

“Exactly,” Andy hissed, “You said no. We went on a fucking date and you didn’t tell me you were engaged.”

Hot tears were racing down her paling cheeks and Andy was beginning to seem more and more like a blur. “Because,” she gasped, desperately trying to suck in some air, “I…” A hitched sob punctuated her words, “I….I didn’t want you to know.”

She really didn’t. It was wrong, misguided and shamefully selfish, but at some point, Y/n had thought that bringing up her engagement would ruin the closeness that she so enjoyed with Andy. She enjoyed being the only person he opened up to, in a way, it felt like he was hers and as long as she kept her relationship with James hidden, nothing would change.

“Exactly,” he growled, seeking her lips once more, “You’ve wanted me exactly the way I’ve wanted you since that first case.”

A broken sob fell into his mouth and Y/n occasionally found herself punctuating her failing resistance with sloppily returned kisses. “I don’t wanna do this,” she cried weakly, breaths short and throat dry, “You don’t wanna do this,” halfheartedly, she kissed the corner of his lips and tried to turn her face away again, “You’re drunk, this isn’t you.” 

Pressing his forehead to hers, Andy chuckled and his grip on her neck loosened so he could flatten his hand on the top of her chest. She could feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of her dress as he dragged it slowly down her body, and as she got a clearer sense of where his hand was going, she was breathing quickly. “I promise you, sweetheart” he rasped, fingers creeping under the hem of her skirt, which had ridden up her thigh, “This is exactly me.” 

Pushing aside the crotch off her underwear, Andy slipped two of his digits into her folds and started pumping slowly. “See?” He taunted in response to the slickness that had gathered there shortly after she’d felt his member pressing into her stomach. Try as she might, it was impossible to deny the effect that Andy had on her and she hated that she did want him- a man like him, who was proving to be worse than the rumors. She hated that the only reason she was resisting was because she didn't want to be branded as a cheater. 

“You want this,” he coaxed, curling his fingers and extracting a sharp inhale, “Admit it sweetheart.”

Not because she loved her fiance- she did- but she didn’t want that love questioned. Not by Andy, not by herself. 

But love and sex, they were different. She could love James and want Andy. It wasn't wrong, it was just human.

His beard grazed her skin, and the sensation coupled with her mounting arousal made a shiver run up her spine. “Please….” Her plea was teary, and Y/n wasn’t sure what she was begging for; for him to spare her the consequence of a nasty truth or give her more. 

Biting down on her lower lip, Y/n hoped a little pain and blood on her tongue was enough to keep her mouth shut and ward off the obvious truth, but when his lips sought her jaw and he added another finger to his quickening ministrations while pressing his thumb to her nub, she succumbed. “Yes…” She heaved, sobbing, “I want you,” she cried, head bending forward and her face consequently nuzzling the side of his.

She was only human, after all.

Finally satisfied, Andy let Y/n’s wrists go and she immediately loomed her arms around his neck, holding him to her. Meanwhile, he removed his fingers from her arousal and started pushing her underwear down, letting it pool at her feet. Without thinking, she kicked it away and when Andy curled his fingers under her ass after sparing a bare moment to undo his pants and free his cock, she let him lift her off the ground and wrapped her legs around his waist. 

But when Andy slid into her with unfettered ease, girth stretching her to the point of a delicious burn, an erotic moan tumbled off her lips and her fingers curled in his nape. Immediately, he struck up a pace of pronounced but aggressive thrusts, giving off the sense that he was barely containing himself. 

She still felt guilty. Y/n still knew it was wrong. 

“Fuck….Laurie….” In the heat of the moment, her name dripped off his lips, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that it wasn’t even about her;

'Because you remind me of someone. Someone special.'

'Keep the length, try a couple shades darker'- just like the woman in the photographs. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since we met,” he admitted, liquor stained breath hot on her face and distracting her, “God, you feel so fucking good, you take me so well.” 

He felt good too. 

Steadying her at the hip with one hand, Andy used the other to free her blouse from the waist of her skirt. Delving under the hem, he groped her breast through her bra, kneading harshly. As the rhythmic roll of his hips grew rabid, Y/n found herself demanding, “Harder,” and, “Faster,” with the occasional obscene praise peppered in between. 

Reveling in the feel of his bulging veins rubbing her sensitive walls with each purposeful, aggressive thrust and the way the curve of his member seemed to probe at the lowest part of her stomach, Y/n sunk her nails into his back, clawing at Andy through his shirt. Breathy moans and low grunts bounced off the walls as stifling heat cocooned them, hardly remedied by the air conditioning. 

With each jerk, her back hit the wall with an audible thump and as Y/n felt herself inching closer to insurmountable gratification she tightened her legs around his hips, driving the back of her feet into his thighs. “Andy,” she hitched headily when his lips met hers again, not really in a kiss but a stretch of shared breaths. “Fuck,” Y/n heaved into his mouth, “You feel so….”

Grinning wickedly, he tried to meet her lust blown eyes but their faces were so close that it was hard. “Feel so….?”

“So-uh,” a small fraction of her was readily able to recognize that there was no coming back from the words she wanted to say. Her silly admission that he was the best she’d ever had. Y/n’s mind though had fallen into some kind of sex-crazed limbo, caught between what was inherently right and what felt incomparably good. 

“Tell me,” he demanded, kissing her roughly, biting her lips before pulling away a few centimeters.

“Good,” at the back of his head, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, causing him to bite her lips when they kissed again, “So fucking good.” Pressing her face close to his, the rise and fall of her chest became erratic and her heart was galloping in behind her ribs and she became acutely aware of just how close she was to toppling over with gratification. 

“I wanna feel you,” he encouraged, quickening his pace a little, fingers digging into her waist. 

The fabric of his shirt was crumpled in her grip and eager for release, Y/n struggled to buck her hips towards his. With a gasp, Y/n’s legs stiffened and her head lolled back against the wall. Unrestrained ecstasy started in a burst at her center, spreading like an untamed wildefire to electrify her every nerve. Clenching around him, her frame quaked and she drenched their thighs in silky moisture. She didn’t think it had ever felt like that; like watching fireworks on an LSD high or speeding on the freeway after a night of tequila shots. There was a rush she’d never experienced before, one she fittingly thought could only ever be achieved with drugs. “Andy! Fuck!” Her throat hurt and her words were loud and a little hoarse.

Andy’s pace didn’t falter through the crest of her euphoria, though just as her high settled, leaving behind a pleasurable sensitivity and colours on her vision, his hips sputtered. She should have pushed him away, begged him to pull out, but much too consumed by the threads of pleasure still running through her veins, Y/n clung to him as generous ribbons of his hot product shot into her. By then, he’d shifted his feet slightly and moved both his hands to hold onto her hip, as if he were keeping her in place so she’d take every drop of him. 

Even after it was over, Andy remained sheathed between her sore walls for a handful of slow moments. They kissed, lips taking on a leisured pace that time and Y/n leaned forward so he’d be supporting most of her weight. She could have sworn that every sensation in that moment was raw and amplified; the roughness of his beard scratching the area around her lips and tickling her palms, the fullness of him still settled inside her, the heat of his touch seeping through her blouse and the rhythm of his heart matching hers. 

Suddenly, she couldn’t remember if her heartbeat had ever matched James’. 

She hated that she was comparing them. He was a good man and Andy was…..Andy. 

Gingerly, he pulled out, and simultaneously, she untangled her legs from around him, knees almost buckling as her feet finally hit the ground. Shutting her eyes as she slumped against the wall, Y/n could hear the soft clink of his belt as Andy tugged his pants up, and while she made no effort to pull her skirt down, she could feel the fabric slowly creeping back to his proper place. 

When he lazily leaned forward, braced by one arm pressed to the wall diagonally over her head, Andy  reached out to ghost the  outline of her face with his rough fingertips, thumb tracing tear stains and then the shape of her kiss-swollen lips. His breathing was just as heavy as hers and it was only after his touch hand trailed down her neck and had reached the valley of her cleavage did he disturbed the heavy silence. “Can I tell you something?” His hoarse whisper elicited a pitiful whimper and shiver from her. His large hand skimmed the contour of her curves and settled to a firm grip on her waist, “You’re prettier when you’re mine.”

Mine. 

His. 

A hitched sob escaped her throat just as her guilt doubled; how could she? That time, when she pushed him away, Andy complied. There was so much she could say to him; curse him, lie and say she hated him, blame him but it would really only be words born from her own guilt and after he’d spent the past forty minutes or so ruining her, Y/n didn’t think he deserved the satisfaction. 

Sucking in a big breath to contain her shameful tears, she shuffled away from Andy, who didn’t even put a toe towards trying to stop her; she supposed it was because he’d already gotten what he wanted. Blindly, Y/n stumbled towards the door, letting herself out without a word and not bothering to shut it as she left. Approaching the car parked on the curb, Y/n rummaged through her coat for the keys and after she got them out, she shrugged off the coat using it to lap up some of the moisture on her face and neck before getting in. 

Immediately after getting the engine going, Y/n put down the windows and turned on the air conditioning, hoping the inescapable chill would do something for her appearance. Then reaching into the glove compartment, she hastily extracted a wad of napkins and did her best to clean up before discarding them on the passenger seat  and  grabbing up her phone. 

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”

“Drive safe. Text me when you get there.”

“Y/n?” 

“I get it if you’re still upset but please let me know that you’re safe.”

“Ordered your favorite for dinner. Waiting till you get here. I love you.”

“Shit!” Y/n banged the wheel with the side of her fist and hot tears rained from blurry eyes. She’d been at Andy’s for just over an hour. Trying to slow the erratic rise and fall of her chest and quiet her sobs, she quickly typed a response, telling James that she’d forgotten her phone in the car and would be home within the next half hour. 

Then, as she wiped her eyes and pulled off, hoping she could bring herself to face James by the time she got home. 

[cevansbrat0007]

Warm

Summary: Andy makes you sit through one of his favorite punishments...

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Cock-Warming, Bratty Reader, Spanking (mentioned), Pussy Spanking, Daddy Kink, Light Degradation, Punishments, Cursing, Lloyd Evans-Drysdale, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @writer84, @sarahdonald87, @lexivass, an anonymous reader, and several others. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own.

___

You let your head rest against the doorframe as you watch your little girl’s eyes slowly fall shut, her quiet breaths evening out as she clings tighter to her stuffed pink cow, Ms. Marie Moo. Rory had woken up less than an hour after you’d tucked her into bed claiming that she and her “best friend” needed a glass of water.

While that certainly wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, her little knock at your husband’s study door had thrown you both for a bit of a loop.

Because you’d been in the middle of one of your discussions at the time. And since it was well past your all of your babies’ respective bedtimes, you hadn’t necessarily anticipated the interruption. Thank goodness you’d at least been able to throw on your robe before unlocking the door. After assuring Andy that the two of you would be quick, you'd ushered her down the hall in the direction of the kitchen.

That had been well over fifteen minutes ago. Which meant that you needed to head back. Casting one last gentle smile in her direction, you blow individual kisses to both of your sleeping daughters, who also happened to share a room. And then you turn on your heel, quietly shutting the door behind you before traipsing back down the stairs to rejoin your man.

Your hands toy with the belt of your plush robe as you round the corner, tugging at the messy knot you’d tied in a hurry. Bracing yourself for what’s to come, you stride through the still open door before shutting and locking it behind you. 

“Hey, baby girl.” Andy greets you from his place behind his imposing mahogany desk. “I thought I was gonna have to come looking for you.” He takes a sip of the whiskey you’d dutifully poured for him before you’d been distracted by your child.

“Oh no…just had to tuck her back in. And then we accidentally left poor Marie Moo behind on the counter, so I had to double back.” You go to take a seat opposite him, only to stop at the quirk of one tawny, challenging brow. 

Oops.

“Sorry, Daddy.” You mumble as you make quick work of removing your robe before draping it over the small couch located on the other side of the room. He leans back in his chair, his bearded chin resting between his thumb and forefinger as he lazily peruses your naked form. 

Andy’s intense gaze fixates on your breasts, watching them bounce gently as you pad towards him. Seconds later, you’re standing in front of your husband, your hands fisted nervously at your sides. Even though this man has seen every inch of you a million times over, you still have to fight the urge to cover yourself. 

But you also knew that Andrew Barber wouldn’t tolerate any attempts to hide from him – not that he ever did. Sometimes when was in a mood he would keep you naked in his study the entire night while he reviewed whatever legal documents he’d brought home from the office. Lately, he’d even taken to splaying you out on his desk alongside him while he worked. That way he could stop and play with you whenever he needed a break. Or, as he so often put it… 

So that he could enjoy his favorite treat.  

“God, I’m so lucky.” Andy purrs as one of his big hands palms his erection, even as the other reaches for your special notebook. “You ready to try this again, little love?” He holds it up, the glossy cover you’d designed gleaming in the light. 

“Yes, please.” You nod. “Can I, um…I mean may I…um…” 

“Use your big girl words, sweetheart.” There’s no mistaking the mocking edge to his tone. “You can do it.”

You blow out a sharp breath as you will yourself to start over.

“Um, D-daddy. May I please warm your cock while we finish our discussion?” Your newly polished toes dig into the carpet while you await his answer.

“You may.” He places his arms behind his head, his muscles flexing beneath his cotton t-shirt. “Go on and take me out again.”

Sighing, you go to reach inside his sweats, wrapping your hand around his impressive length. You give him a playful squeeze, eliciting a hiss when you finally free him from his pants.

“Good girl. Now go on and have a seat.”

Your teeth graze your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself over his lap. And then you grip him again as you slowly lower yourself onto his thick cock, whimpering softly as you take him inside you.

Inch by delicious inch. Christ he was filling you up just right!

Your walls clench around him as your core spasms against your will  – reminding you of just how desperate you were to ride him. Grind against him. Make him go crazy enough to fucking explode and fill you up right. 

But once again, you knew better than to move without permission. Your Daddy could thrust in and out of you all he liked, but you weren’t allowed to do a damn thing without his permission. Unless you fancied earning yourself a sore bottom. Not to mention that it had been three – no wait, almost four days – since your last spanking and you had no desire to ruin your hot streak. 

“You feel so good, baby.” You tell him, your head lolling backwards against his solid chest. “Sir? Can I–can I please move? Maybe just a little bit?” 

Andy’s hands go to your hips, his long fingers digging into your flesh as he playfully thrusts once, then twice. “Now, that’s all you get until we’re finished with your little list.” He smacks your thigh for good measure, making you cry out. “Assuming it is finished, of course.”

“It is. I–ooh.” You find yourself squirming in his lap. “I did it last night–just like I said I would.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from whining. Especially when he tweaks your nipple before cupping and kneading your breast.

“Need I remind you that you were also a day late?” He presses a kiss to your throat, making you shudder when his bearded chin lightly scrapes over your thrumming pulse.  

“I’m sorry, Sir. But I wanted to make sure it was good.” Your man’s hand caresses its way down your body, only stopping when he reaches that sweet, wet juncture between your thighs. The pads of his fingers swirl over your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the little sounds you make as you try to fight the bright onslaught of pleasure.

“I know.” Andy taps your clit, making you jerk and clench on his cock. “Stay still, brat.” He grunts, pinching you roughly. “You just worry about keeping me nice and warm deep inside my pretty pussy while we go over your apology list. And if you’ve done a good job –” he bounces you then, groaning as your walls milk him for all he’s worth. “I’ll give you the ride you’ve been asking for, okay?”

“Mmhm.” You hum, picking up the notebook and flipping it open to the appropriate page.

“And just how many items did you manage to include on this apology list of yours, baby girl?” His talented fingers stroke their way across your soft belly, before coming to rest just above your abdomen. “Hope it’s more than two, otherwise Daddy isn’t gonna be very happy with his baby.”

There was a time when you had to stop yourself from flinching, or curling into yourself whenever he touched you there. It had been after the birth of the twins. You’d found yourself struggling with your self-image back then. You’d hated the way you looked, to the point where you almost couldn’t fathom how or why your husband was still attracted to you. 

But Andy had helped you through it all. Reminding you again and again of just how much you meant to him. How much he loved and worshiped you, not just as the mother of his children – but as the woman with whom he had chosen to share his life and his bed.       

That night you’d received the green light from your doctor after your babies’ arrival had been nothing short of amazing. He’d been so tender with you, so gentle. But he’d also been very firm about your letting him in. 

Letting him adore you. Cherish you. 

Until you remembered how to love yourself again. Andy was your man. Your anchor. Your love. And most important of all right now… 

He was your Daddy. 

“It’s definitely more than two. “See?” You tell him, biting your lip as you show him the page. “I’ve got six. And I was really honest, too.” 

Just like he’d told you to be. And the way you saw it, that meant there was no way he could be mad about what you’d written. 

Sweat beads across your brow as you shift in Andy’s lap, a strangled mewl catching in your throat. Damn, it was hard to focus like this! Especially, when all you wanted to do turn around and fuck him so long and hard your eyes rolled back in your heads and you both succumbed to unconsciousness. 

“I see that, sweet girl. And I have to tell you that I really like your first one.” Your husband pecks your temple. “Proud of you for recognizing that you should have listened to me when you weren’t feeling well. Next time I bet you’ll go to bed when I tell you to, huh?” Another kiss, this time on the apple of your cheek.

“Uh huh.” You murmur, allowing your head to fall back against his broad chest when he gifts you with three short thrusts. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Forgiven. Now, onto the next.” Andy grabs your hand, squeezing encouragingly. “Oh yeah, I’m glad to see you being more understanding about our lunch plans. Daddy didn’t like having to cancel with you like that, baby.”

“I know.” You turn your head towards him, offering up your mouth for a kiss.  “I do feel really bad about withholding my cuddles. I always forget how pouty you get and – oww!” You squeal when he pinches your side. 

“Wrong time to sass me. Keep it up and you’ll leave me no choice but to turn you over my knee.” 

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry…” You clear your throat, feeling yourself flush. “Do you – I mean…do you want me to add that to my list then?” 

Now that earns you a quick slap to your pussy.

“I’m sorry.” You grit out as he pops you again, trying to ignore the way the sharp contact makes your walls contract. “But sometimes I just can’t –”

“Sometimes you just can’t help yourself.” He grumbles. “I know, honey. The same way I knew you were a brat from our very first date.”

All you can do is shrug. “But in my defense, at least I’m cute.” You bat your lashes at him before lightly nipping at his chin. “Plus, I also gave you four babies, I make the best smothered pork chops you’ve ever had, and I look sexy as hell in all of your shirts.”

“See what I’m talking about?” Comes Andy’s throaty growl. “Goddamned brat. And watch your fucking language, before you force me to find a much better use for your disrespectful little mouth. You got that?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You breathe, feeling your breasts swell and your nipples harden at his words. “S-sorry, Sir.” 

“S’alright. You’re forgiven. It’s not all your fault, especially since I suspect that part of this has to do with that greedy pussy of yours running the show.” He takes a deep breath before moving onto the next apology item on your list. “Okay, number three. I see here you’re apologizing for the…” Your man trails off as he takes another calming breath. “For those fucking spiders.”

“Yep.” You flash him your best, most innocent smile. “I am so very sorry about that. When I heard your panicked screams I…well…it sounded like you were being attacked.”

“I was being attacked, Y/N! By a bunch of stupid fucking spiders that fell out of the cabinet, on top of my head, and onto the floor. And it wasn’t just me! They got Junior too!”

Yes, but unlike his father, your three-year-old had found the whole affair rather funny. He’d cackled his little head off while Andy had practically hyperventilated in the corner. And once he was done, he’d scooped up a bunch before taking off down the hall to show his sisters. 

Now they, on the other hand, had reacted more like your poor, flustered husband. Yeah. It was safe to say that he had not been amused. And the way he’d roasted your bottom later on that night had confirmed that fact. 

“Yeah. He seemed really disturbed by it.” You deadpan before mentally facepalming.

Shit! There you went again, mouthing off when you were in no position to be cheeky. At this rate, Andrew Barber was never gonna let you cum. And it was going to be your own goddamned fault!

“Err, I’m sorry. What I meant to say was, I shouldn’t have preyed on your fears like that, Daddy. It was wrong of me to do. I know now that I caused you extreme levels of distress. And since you’re getting on in years, I should take more care with your blood pressure. Please accept my apology.”

Andy is quiet for a moment as he mulls over your admission. 

“Are my ears deceiving me, or did my sweet girl just make a crack about my age?”

Yes.

“Nope. Didn’t even cross my mind, sweet husband.”

Yes it had. So you did. Maybe you needed mental help. 

“W-which brings me to number four.” You bravely forge on, not wanting to give the man time to think. “I’m sorry for going a little feral when you tried to, um, discipline me for that whole spider nonsense.” You let out a surprised yelp when Andy swats your breast.

“You bit me, you little hellcat.” His warm, slightly calloused hand wraps its way around your throat. “Nearly took a chunk out of my left calf.”

“I–I didn’t want to be–ooh!” Andy holds you in place while he moves his hips, teasing you with several tempting thrusts. “I didn’t want to be punished!” You cry, arching your back when he hits that special spot inside of you as white-hot sparks dance behind your eyelids. 

“And how’d that go for you?”

“Terrible.” You concede with a gasp. “And then I pinched you. And then I followed it up with that unnecessary quip about you lacking an actual working funny bone.” Oh God! “It was mean spirited of me then, and it sounds just as bad now when I reflect back on it.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve really seen the error of your ways, baby girl.” He rasps as he moves his hand from your throat in favor of stroking your sensitive little clit. “Daddy is quite proud of you.”

“Th-thank you, Sir.” You forced yourself to take a steadying series of breaths. “As for the next one, you really do have my word that I’ll keep working on the–on my, um, n-negative self-talk.”

“Okay.” Andy ceases his movements, knowing you needed to make it through this one without him interrupting. “Keep going for me.”

“I am a good–no. Let me start over. I am a freaking fantastic Mama Bear who adores her children. Having four kids all under ten can be challenging. And there are only so many hours in the day. Which means that I need to give myself a little more credit, along with a healthy dose of grace.”

“There we go, Y/N. There it is. That is exactly what I was looking to hear from you just now.” Andy grips your jaw, tilting your head back just enough to steal himself a kiss. “Do you believe everything that you just said, little love? Because we can keep breaking it down if we need to.”

“No. I honestly don’t think so.” You murmur, your lips softly gliding over his. “But can we maybe revisit this one in a few days?”

You knew there was no way he would possibly say no to that. Andy never allowed himself to forget that you occasionally still struggled in the self-esteem department.

“Alright, put a little star next to it so we can remember that we need to do a brief check-in.” You do as he asks without missing a beat.   

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Anything for my baby girl.” He purrs, his voice deepening with approval. And then his eyes stray to the final item on your list. “And as for this last one regarding that damned Drysdale fucker–”

“Maybe we should just focus on the fact that I openly and knowingly deprived you of blackberry cheesecake.” You quickly interject, wishing you had thought a little more before including the name of your husband’s supposed rival for your affections. 

Andy positively loathed Lloyd Evans-Drysdale, which sometimes made things difficult since the aforementioned man also happened to be your favorite actor.  

“Or, we could focus on the fact you deprived me of the chance to eat a positively decadent treat off of your delectable little body. All over some pretentious jackass who’s too preoccupied with his fading spotlight to actually care about making a decent film once in a while.”

“I’m so sorry, honey. I know this is a sore spot. And, honestly, I shouldn’t have poked it.” You choke back a sob when he finally begins to move again. Which let you know that he was most likely satisfied with that apology.  

“You mean that, little one?” Andy grunts, his arms lacing themselves around your middle as continues to drive into you. You find yourself feeling grateful when he increases his pace, both of you loving the way your messy cunt clings to him, refuses to let go of his thick cock. 

“So much, Andy Bear. Am I…am I forgiven then?” You hold your breath. 

“Depends.”

"Mm?"

“You owe me one orgasm for each point on that piece of paper.” He nods in the direction of your notebook as he possessively cups your drenched core, shaking his hand back and forth.

“What!” You wail as your eyes fly open. “That’s not even fair!”

That was one hell of a penance, not to mention a ridiculous stipulation to put on any one girl’s pussy at any given time. 

“Didn’t ask if it was fair.” Andy hisses as your velvety walls continue to milk him for all he’s worth. “You give me six good, strong orgasms and Daddy will consider the slate wiped clean.”

With a whimper you begin to bounce on his lap, working hard to push yourself closer to the brink. "There we go. Bein' such a good girl for me." Andy praises.

"Now be a doll and turn around. Daddy wants to watch those perfect tits bounce while you use him to fuck yourself senseless."

END

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 7

Summary: Andy is such a daddy

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, breedable reader and a breeding kink man, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You should really wake up. There is a lot to do today; Audrey has her Donuts with Dad event at school, Suede had an allergist appointment, Andy’s day wasn’t too bad and he said he would go with you. But you don’t want to wake up, you want to enjoy this moment. You’d rather lay in this bed, facing Andy’s handsome face, and watching him while he sleeps. It could be creepy to some, but you doubt that Andy would mind.

There’s just something so magical about seeing the man you’ve always loved facing you, and his warm breath blowing over your cheeks. Life wasn’t perfect, but with him in your life you know you have a partner, and now not everything sits on your shoulders. He carries the weight, and he makes life fun again for you and the kids.

It didn’t seem like that long ago that you cried on the floor, while you watched your babies sleep. You were silent as tears stained your face and chest, watching these beautiful babies sleep soundly, while their father grunts in pleasure in the background. You didn’t understand why he would risk losing them. They are perfect, and he knew — knew that infidelity was the point of no return.

He risked a relationship with his offspring, the thing he claimed to desire the most, because he knew you would fight like hell to have custody of your children. They were all you have left of your marriage. And you just stared at them in awe. Audrey held onto Suede like he was her personal stuffed animal. And their lips were puckered out as they slept so serenely, having no knowledge of their babysitter fucking their disgusting father.

You tired of sitting on the floor, and crawled in Audrey’s bed, holding onto both of them like a lifeline. You had to be okay for them. You just didn’t understand. You had two good reasons in your arms for not cheating; he is two and she's four, and Scott was the ultimate idiot.

You made yourself believe that you stayed because they adored their father. You knew that the two of you had been drifting apart. Sex was a chore, until it was completely absent. His harsh words for Suede changed the way you thought of him. How someone could see this perfect tiny little baby that was in the NICU fighting to breathe was a miracle. You made yourself suffer through a subpar relationship because you felt it’s what they wanted.

It would have been easier on you if he told you he didn’t love you anymore. The low blow was who the woman was. He had to pick out the young girl that was every man’s fantasy, so you thought. She was young, stupid, perfect hair, perfect teeth, perky full tits, had a stomach that hadn’t carried and birthed babies, she was just the epitome of sex goddess. Your mom told you that you were stupid for hiring a babysitter that looked like her, but she was readily availed. Too readily.

And you thought she was fun for the kids for the few hours she watched them. She wasn’t supposed to be watching your husband. He wasn’t supposed to be coming home during a lunch hour to fuck her while your babies slept. Yours. They have always been yours. And you feel like a fool for staying in a loveless marriage, because their happiness now is infectious.

And now today, and everyday for the rest of your life you can thank Taylor because you have the better man in front of you. The man of your dreams. The man that is so fuzzy and warm, and then hard and protective for his family. That’s what the four of you are; family. His family.

It has made you painfully aware how you all are a family everyday. Every day Andy wants to do something as a family. He wants breakfast together, dinner together, play time with no electronics (thanks Ransom), he even helps Suede sound out his words more, and has mentioned a few times on helping him potty train. He immediately was the best bonus dad for your kids. Better than their own father.

As much as you would like to prolong this moment, you know you need to get breakfast started. Andy will join you later to set the table. He would even get Suede ready while you got Audrey ready. Keep them occupied while you make lunches. He was a help. They weren’t a burden to him. You know he’s always wanted a family, but you didn’t realize how much he would flourish as a father.

You try and let him get a few minutes extra of sleep, while you ease out of the bed. Giving a final look to the most beautiful man inside And out as you pick up some shorts out of the floor. Getting into the kitchen, you check the calendar for the menu today, and pull out the ingredients for pancakes. Even this part of life made you happy, Andy enjoyed helping you and the kids create the menu for the month. Blissful is a good word. Now if Scott could just buzz off, and let the four of you live in peace.

Lighthearted, you start laying bacon onto trays for the air fryer. Mixing up the batter for the pancakes as you dance around to happy music in your head. Not all mornings are this joyful, but you feel different. Usually he was the one that woke up before you did, and he would start this process. You hear the alarm go off in the bedroom, and start to make a yogurt dip for fruit.

“Morning, handsome,” you look over your shoulders as Andy pulls down his shirt, and makes his way behind you. He wraps both arms around your front, laying his hands flat on your belly as he starts roaming around. His hands become more needy, and he adds a bit more pressure, pulling you into him. “I gotta finish the last pancakes, and pop them in the warmer. Gimme me a moment.”

“I need my morning kiss,” you bump your ass out, pushing him back, just a tiny bit to get the pancakes off the griddle, and turn off the stove. Andy is already peppering kisses up your neck before he lifts a hand to turn your head to the side. “I need a real good morning kiss because the babies are still asleep, and the air fryer hasn’t shut off.”

“Kiss until one or the other happens?” He nods his head as he inches closer to your mouth. You wish he’d let you turn around to kiss him properly, but he’d taken to kisses like this. His hands continue to caress over your belly. Dipping under the hemline of your top, so he can have his hands on your skin. One hand roams a bit too high, and he pinches your nipples.

“The babies,” you manage to get out, and his hand already sinks back lower. You kiss him like there’s no care in the world. The best way to start a day. You are ready to get out of this house, and find a forever home with him. Create memories with everyone. Start drawing lines on a door frame to show how much they’ve grown. A big fenced in backyard because you have thought more about a dog for the kids, and a bonus if it can be a service dog for Suede’s allergies.

Andy bites on your lip, pausing his ministrations as a giggle makes him pull off you, “You look like you are eating each other,” Audrey giggles again, but Suede jokingly scowls at Andy.

“My mama,” he stomps his foot, and Andy copies his motion. “No oos!”

“You want to race to the table for her?” Both Audrey and Suede’s faces light up with a smile, and they bend low, bouncing in place as they look up at Andy. “Ready,” he drops his arms from around your body. “Set,” Andy walks over to where the kids are, getting in a running stance with them, “Go!”

Running in the house isn’t often. But these short bursts of racing to the table are fine. Scott would hate them. You open up the air fryer, and start placing bacon on a plate. Setting out the plates onto the counter. Pulling out some cups. “Auds, you want juice or milk, baby?”

“JUICE, mommy!”

“Suedey?”

“UICE!”

Starting a pot of coffee, you give Andy a chaste kiss as he grabs the plates and utensils, walking back into the dining room, “Suede, all the way in your seat,” Suede listens immediately, and Andy lays out the plates, “Do not stand up in the chair while I go get the drinks, okay?”

“Chess.”

“I mean it, Audi, you watch him, angel, okay?” She holds up a thumb as Andy jogs back into you. Finishing up pouring the drinks, you slap his ass as he trots back, “Ma’am!”

“Don’t have such a cute tush,” you shrug. He seriously has the best scrumptious ass that you will bite one of these days. Andy rolls his eyes, and you grab up the tray of food. Walking in to see your family. “Coffee should just about be done.”

“Is it just me today again?” You give him a nod. Coffee has been giving you the worst heartburn lately, so you’ll stick with just water for today. Now is one of your favorite times of day. Time to talk with your littles about their day. Time to watch Andy try and help Suede calmly sound his words out a bit more. It’s amazing what positive reinforcement from more than you helps him learn.

His speech is already improving, but also his behavior. He is still two and has his moments of big emotions for a little boy. But it’s almost like he has a male that now pays attention to him, and talks to him like he’s a human instead of at him because he isn’t perfect. Suede isn’t a mistake, and Audrey isn’t perfect. You didn’t want her to have these impossible goals, because no one is ever going to perfect. She would fail. There would be things she wouldn’t naturally be good at, and you wanted her to have those moments.

“Audi, are you excited about your dad coming to pick you up today?” You start the morning conversation. She hadn’t seen him in over a week. Even his nightly calls are dwindling down. Either he’s too busy with Taylor, or his insecurities towards Andy are taking over his need to be a decent father.

She finishes the gulp of her juice before she sits it down on the table, nodding her head. She missed him. Suede didn’t care or way or the other. If it didn’t hurt your children, you’d rather he just stay absent, “And and and and and…”

“Breathe,” you whisper. She has picked up a bit of stuttering with her excitement recently. You hope she didn’t have these moments with her dad. You shudder to think what he’ll say about her not being perfect.

She takes a slow breath, wiping her maple hands down her front, “Daddy says he’s going to take me to that new donut shop.”

“Me, too! Na Na, me go!”

“Buddy, we have to ask if they have donuts without eggs first. This is just,” Andy looks over towards you, wondering how he should phrase the next sentence. No matter how it comes out, it’ll be how it sounds.

“Suedey, today is just for sissy and daddy,” he furrows his brows, and folds his arms over his chest. “I know. But maybe you and Andy can do something special Friday evening, and Audrey and I can stay home.”

“Chess!”

“Can can can can,” she takes a deep breath without being coached this time, “Can you and I make Pinkalicious cupcakes? My teacher read the book, and I need pink cupcakes.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. But, Suede?” Suede immediately sits back on his bum as he looks at Andy, and he thanks him quickly, “I need you to be extra brave today. You got to pick out tonight’s dinner, remember?”

“Chess,” he says slowly. “Me,” he looks at you, and then only at Andy, “B-b-br…bave,” close enough. He smiles so big as he looks at Andy, and he reaches across the table, holding out a fist, and Suede bumps his hand. Andy moves it to Audrey who returns the favor.

“Alright, you two take your plates to the dishwasher, and head to the bathroom for teeth and hands and faces,” today was going to be tough. But today wasn’t going to be bad.

Andy checks his watch again while Audrey sits and stares out Sloane’s window directly to the parking lot. She stands up on her little tiptoes, trying to see cars closer to the building before sighing, and walking over to Sloane’s desk, and crawling back underneath. Andy’s assistant glares at him.

Waiting on the little girl to put her headphones back on, “Fix this,” she whisper screams. “Her looks so pitiful, and I can’t do anything to help it. So you have to fix it!”

“And what am I supposed to do? Her dad was supposed to be here ten minutes ago to pick her up. It’s a Dad’s and Donuts day at school. And no, the dads are not a requirement, but dads, moms, father figures, whatever are invited.”

“And you’re the step,” Andy clears his throat, his eyes scanning the parking lot again, “Bonus dad. Take her to get her donuts, and you take her,” Andy starts to make a comment before he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and walks into his office. Closing the door softly as he paces around.

“Doe!”

“Don’t tell me what I think you’re about to say,” there has been a sneaking suspicion in your mind all day. Scott hadn’t called to confirm the event at school, which only meant one thing, he wasn’t going.

“He’s not here,” you groan in frustration. Keeping your eyes on Suede who scribbles on a piece of paper with his tongue sticking out. It would be any moment that you were going to be called back for Suede’s test, and Scott wasn’t there to get his daughter.

“Days like this I want to hit him. I know that work gets in the way, but he can schedule around this, right? You do. God, I just wish you were her dad,” Suede looks up at you smiling, pointing at his paper, and things grow silent on the other end. Andy wouldn’t leave her hanging like this. You can imagine her looking out the window, and then going back under Sloane’s desk to hide.

She thinks that nobody notices when he disappoints her, but you do. More and more Scott’s insecurities about Andy were coming out, and she is the one that suffers for it, “Honey, tell me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but I can take her,” you inhale swiftly, staring at Suede, and how he tries conversing with a little boy in the waiting area. His confidence growing by a positive male influence.

“Okay,” responding quickly because Audrey deserves doughnuts that could potentially have eggs. “Yeah, okay. Umm, I’m going to send you the address,” your phone pings, and you check to see if it’s Scott, and it isn’t. “Andy, her favorite color currently is…”

“Pink, I know. Ransom, why are you here?” Andy looks at his colleague confused. Of course Ransom is there. He had to let you know that Audrey is hiding. Those iPads are going to be a blessing and a curse.

“Audrey is hiding under Sloane’s desk, and she sent me a message asking if I could bring her some doughnuts. I thought that — he didn’t show up,” Ransom growls, and reaches into his pocket for his keys, “Alright, let's get the kid the most obnoxious cupcakes…”

“Doughnuts,” you and Andy say at the same time, even if Ransom couldn’t hear you. “And I’m driving. You don’t have a car seat.”

“Yeah, whatever, let’s go,” Ransom leans under Sloane’s desk, smiling at the tiny little Audrey, “Come on, let’s go nuts for doughnuts,” nerd. Ransom is a liar, and he’s a nerd. He was the best liar and only because he ended up being the most tender man besides Andy. He is all bark, and only bites for mean men.

Audrey holds onto her box of donuts, and Andy opens her door, helping her get out, “Do you think the gold is too much?” She asks, looking down at her gaudy pastries, and Ransom scoffs. The gold had been his idea, “So people will love them, Uncle Ann?”

“They’re going to love them, sweetheart,” Andy butts in. He lets Audrey walk in front, leading the way into the classroom. “We’re just two minutes late, but I think the pink and gold were the right fit,” Audrey holds her head up higher. “You’re coming, too?”

“I’m not sitting out in the car. I want donuts,” Audrey looks like she’s commanding these two men. She guides them through the doors, stopping to let Andy sign her in before continuing her trek down the hallway. Nodding her head as she passes the classroom doors.

“That’s Suede’s room. He hasn’t been back since he was stung. Mommy wants to make sure there’s no other allergies before he comes back. Oh! Miss Tatum! My Uncle Ann and — Andy brought me. My daddy is busy, but this is okay, right?”

“Of course. Go sit your donuts on the table, I’m sure your uncles can help you,” Andy starts to protest. “We’ve got a quick circle time, and we’re going to go directly into the donuts. You’re welcome to sit down with her, or you can join the adults behind the table.”

“Haha, she thinks we’re a couple,” Ransom giggles, and he gets a sharp look from Miss Tatum. “You think she’s single? She is a feisty one.”

“I think she thinks that she’s not your type,” Ransom look from Miss Tatum to Andy, his lip curling a moment.

“You’re right, I don’t like kids,” Andy’s face falls flat as he stands in the back of the classroom. That isn’t at all what Andy was insinuating, “I don’t. This,” Ransom motions to the classroom of fifteen children, “this is terrifying. Perfect birth control. But she sure is cute,” Andy elbows his partner in the ribs as Miss Tatum sits on the floor with a guitar. “What does one do at donuts for dads?”

“I’ve never done this,” he keeps his eyes on Audrey who sporadically watches him as she sings. The biggest grin on her face for their morning song. A little dimple showing on her cheek that only appears when she’s at her happiest. “I think I’ve got the cutest kid here.”

“Well, yeah, Audi is the best. Why is she so tiny though? I swear she’s the shortest here,” she is. One of the younger students, but also one of the daintiest.

“She’s perfect,” Andy whispers, smiling back at the little girl. “I couldn’t imagine not showing up for her. Look how happy she is. It’s all she wants is someone to show up for her. And this way she gets put first. Nothing about today is about Suede, just her,” the song finishes, and Audrey gives both men a huge grin, and waves her hands. She bounces around in her spot, but waits for Miss Tatum to dismiss them for the donuts.

“Alright, children, go to your grownup, and let's get our breakfast started. Don’t fill up on just donuts, there’s fruit as well,” Audrey bounces up, sprinting over to Andy and Ransom. She crashes into Andy’s legs giving him a huge hug.

“Come on, we have to hurry so we can sit at the best table. It’s the one closest to the kitchen area, and there’s a window, and you can pretend to have a store, and we have a money thingy that really beeps. And! Oh, look, come here,” grabbing both their hands she pulls them to another section of the classroom.

Forgetting she had a special table, she just wants to show off her space, “This is where I paint. And you see that picture way up there? That’s my hand and we made it into a pumpkin! And and and and and and…”

“Audi, breathe.”

“Yes,” she inhales slowly, exhaling, “That’s our reading area. And this book,” she pulls up a book from the shelf, showing both men, “This is my favorite right now. It’s Pinkalicious, and it has a girl who turns pink in it,” she lets out a roaring giggle before pulling the book out of Andy’s hands, and showing them something else.

“See the bags on the windows? We’re trying to sprout beans! And oh,” she drags them to another area of the classroom, “This is the block center. Jacob makes really big buildings and he knocks them down. And one time a block fell on my head and I cried.”

“Which one is Jacob?” Ransom’s eyes narrow as he looks at every little boy in the classroom. Putting Jacob on his list.

“Ransom!” Andy says under his breath.

“Mommy had to sign a paper that said I got in an accident. I just don’t go there if Jacob is going to be there,” Audrey shrugs, and sighs.

“Does he still bother you?”

“Not really. He hits the cymbals too loud, so Miss Tatum doesn’t let him have those anymore. Come on, we should really get some donuts. I want two of my pink and gold ones,” she drags them along even if Ransom whispers and asks Andy about who Jacob is. “Here are your plates. Oh, daddy, look there’s plenty of my donuts left.”

Audrey is able to squish in between a little girl, reaching for the donuts she brought, while Andy stares at her curiously. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t skip a beat. That name rolled off her tongue effortlessly, and while Andy is swimming in feels, it worries him. Scott is a non-issue as far as he’s concerned, but what will Audrey think when she realizes what she’s said? Will you be upset? Was it an honest mistake?

He’s spent every night with you and the kids, minus Scott’s weekends. He wakes up every morning with them. Drops them off to school with you. He reads all three of you bedtime stories every night. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves the title, it’s a worry on how everyone else will feel. He doesn’t care about his feelings when something like this can change so much.

“I bet that kid is Jacob,” Ransom motions to a little mischievous boy that gets reprimanded by his dad. “He looks like a trouble maker, that's definitely the brat that hurt Audi.”

“Shh, I’m going through an internal crisis right now,” Ransom furrows his brow as they make it down the line of food. Watching as Audrey fills her plate up with fruit. “Audi, let me carry this to the table, and you grab us some juice boxes.”

“Juice boxes? I was promised beverages,” juice boxes was not on Ransom’s list of things he was willing to drink. He’d been thinking a mimosa at least.

“We’re at a pre-k center.”

“Okay, daddy. Uncle Ann, what is your favorite flavor,” Ransom’s mouth drops open, and Audrey looks at him weird, “Orange juice, okay,” before she skips off, and the two men pick up their plates to walk to the tiny little chairs.

“Is that the first time she’s called you that?”

“Yup.”

“Is that your crisis?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” Ransom gives Miss Tatum a nod as he sits down in the chair, she really was cute, “These are the smallest things I have ever in my life seen,” he states, slotting a too small chair away from the table. He sits down, and glares at Andy. His knees feel like they’re up to his chin, “They are cute, but I look like an idiot,” he follows Andy’s eyes as he watches the man staring at the little girl digging around the cart for the right juice. “It was bound to happen.”

“Eventually. But is this too soon? How do I bring this up? Is she okay? Is she pretending that I’m her dad for today so she’s not embarrassed? Is she confused? I have so many questions running through my head like I’m in court, and all I want to do is stare at that little girl, and wish she was mine. She should be mine.”

“Can I be honest with you?” Andy’s head bobs up and down quickly. He is ready to get home to you, and talk through this with someone who was involved. He trusts Ransom, but this is a family matter. “She is yours,” Andy looks at him confused, “You’ve stepped up for her, her brother, but most importantly stepped up for her mom. You’ve become part of the integral familial unit, and the kids are both thriving. My guess is eventually Scott will quit trying to tear her down, and will eventually back out of the kids' lives a bit more permanently. He already has with Suede. He’s hoping Audi is going to be a good name for him. It’s the only reason he’s kept a somewhat decent relationship with her. By the way, the talk of the assistants is that he doesn't have a photo of his kids on his desk. It’s just him and Taylor, along with his phone wallpaper. Let’s see yours.”

Andy lays his phone on the table, and Ransom has a hearty laugh. “See, you, Doe, and both kids. What’s the other one?”

“Doe sleeping,” he smiles, waving at Audrey. She’d been talking to Miss Tatum about something. Her dimple sinks in as she points over to the table. She really is the cutest here, especially when she’s happy.

“And your fall family photos where you and Suede have actually matching shirts is on your desk. You’ve become their dad. Scott’s just their father. Hey princess, what’s this?”

“Miss Tatum said there’s no orange juice left, but she can go ask if you want her to. But I said you could drink apple cider with us. Uncle Ann! What is that donut?”

Her chubby little finger points at an overly decadent donut piled high with something, and he takes a big bite. Moaning at the deliciousness, “This is a cookie butter donut.”

“I think Jacob brought those,” Audrey giggles, looking up at Andy.

“This isn’t that great. I’ve definitely had better donuts,” he says annoyed. He gives a little glare over to the boy who he has deemed Jacob. He can’t believe he hates a four year old, but said four year old hurt Audrey.

“He he he he he,” she calmly takes a long breath when Andy’s hand lays on her back, “He always brings fancy stuff like that. Mommy says that his mom wants brownie points, but that is a donut. I don’t know what she’s talking about. Umm,” Audrey looks up at Andy. Her pink frosting clad hand lays on his pants, getting a bit of the confection on him, and he doesn’t care. She looks content.

“Thank you for bringing me. I’m sad that Suede can’t have these. But but but me and Mommy will make him some Halloween donuts, also the Pinkalicious cupcakes when you take him somewhere.”

“You’re welcome,” she doesn’t say the title of daddy again, and she also doesn’t remove her hand. Andy’s thoughts are swimming. Swirling thoughts of what this all means, but he can’t deny that Audrey is happy. She seems at ease, and that is all that matters to him. Even if this feels right, and all because you trust him. And he’ll continue to show up again and again, no matter what Scott thinks.

You inhale the hot water deeply. Letting the steam open up your sinuses, while you just stand in the heat. You’d finished cleansing your body, but you need these moments of just breathing. It feels like a never ending battle with Suede’s allergies somehow getting worse. You followed the rules. You didn’t introduce common food allergies to him. You introduced a new item a little at a time, and still it got worse.

He should be allowed to be a normal child, and not have to watch every little thing that he ate. It’s why you made sure to prepare things for him. Always carried snacks that were safe for him. It’s like Scott cursed him in some way. He pushed his distaste for his son onto him, and it made allergies appear or something. He was just two and had so many complications.

Too many complications. It isn’t fair.

You rest your head in your hands, massaging your temples. It had been such a long day. He cried, asking you over and over again why. The nurses said it would only sting a little bit, and immediately he went on edge. Crying uncontrollably because sting now meant bees. It was rough, so you loved hearing that Audrey had the best day possible, despite Scott not showing up again. Hadn’t called. Didn’t even bother giving an excuse. Out of sight out of mind. He’d never bring this up again.

Andy’s hands slide around your waist, and he pulls you into his hard chest. Laying his chin on your head, he keeps you tucked into him, and you drop your own hands, and return his embrace. Burrowing yourself into him, and letting Andy shoulder the heavy weight laying on you. “Honey, you don’t have to come in here to hide. I will listen. I take it today wasn’t a good day?”

“He’s not allergic to bees, that’s a good thing. The seventeen times just caused the breathing issues and swelling. I should be thankful,” that is such a minor thing. You were told to still be cautious, like you wanted him to ever get stung again?

Andy starts to rock you back and forth. You want to make sure your home with him has a huge bathroom like this house. A giant shower for you to comfort Andy, or in this case, him comfort you. Completely naked and vulnerable to each other, and nothing sexual. It’s just purely you and him. “He did add in all shellfish and soy though.”

“Audrey’s going to be very upset then,” leaning back, you stare up at him confused, “Uncle Ann said he wanted to make us some clam chowder,” it’s so silly and goofy, and it shouldn’t matter, but tears well up in your eyes because you hate that it seems like Audrey always gets the leftovers because her brother has allergies.

“She wanted clam chowder?”

“Ehh, she said it sounded gross. We’ll just have a funeral for the clam chowder that never was. She hasn’t tried it, so she doesn’t know what she’s missing. And I’m not so sure about Ransom’s cooking. However, I’m more concerned about what this beautiful woman is doing crying in the shower without me. You’re not alone in this.”

“I know. I just needed a moment to decompress. You didn’t have to see his pitiful face. It got started all wrong. He’s terrified of bees now, and just a mention of them — it was awful.”

Andy’s fingers massage your head as he sways you back and forth. Normally he complains about the water temperature, and even though his skin is turning bright red, he doesn’t say a thing. “Audrey called me daddy today,” gasping, you look into his eyes, and he’s so far away. Remembering the very moment she said it.

“It wasn’t purely an accident. She said it twice. She got pink frosting on my pants. We’ll take it to the dry cleaners, but it was so sweet. She just had her hand resting on my leg, and just would stare up at me with this cheesy grin. Doe, she was so happy today. She got to eat a pink and gold donut, and was proud that we were there. And with me she did show — I don’t even know. It’s silly, but it’s like she was claiming me as her dad to her friends. And who the fuck is Jacob?”

You snort, giving him a kiss to his chin. “Just some kid that has some behavioral issues. I think Audrey tries to befriend him though. So how do you feel?”

“How do you feel?”

“I want my kids to be happy and content. That’s it, and they are. Names are not important. Whether you’re Andy, Na Na, or daddy. So how do you feel?”

He spins the two of you, putting himself in the stream of water while he grabs the shampoo. You pull it out of his hands, and squirt the liquid into your hand before standing on your tippy toes, and washing his hair yourself. Getting a good lather, letting the suds stream down his body. He takes long deep breaths in and out before leaning forward for a sweet kiss.

“I liked it a lot. Is it going too far to say I feel like her dad?” You shake your head no. This is Andy in his element. He was seriously meant to be a father. “I didn’t want to correct her at first because I thought it was a mistake, but then she said it again, and I don’t want this to confuse her. I don’t want this to be a fight for Scott. I don’t want her or Suede to feel they have to call me that. But I liked it.”

“Maybe we should talk to her,” it seemed like a logical start to understanding. It might have just slipped out, she might be confused on what she should call Andy. But it should be discussed with her. Let her know that neither of you cared. “Just with her, we can wait for the next weekend we have them, Suede still takes two naps, and we just have a conversation with her. I’ve been feeling so guilty lately. I feel my baby is growing up too fast, and it’s not because she’s growing up but because she’s having to be an adult with her brother. She’s had so much trauma with the divorce, and his allergies, and she’s not even five. I want to make it a point to have special moments with her.”

“I think that’s the best idea. Not to change the subject, but are you going to wash my body, too? Want to spend some extra time on my dick?” Andy wiggles his brows around, and you snort rolling your eyes. He’s such a teenager sometimes. That’s one way to change the subject.

“Not in the shower.”

“Why not?” He asks, getting all squeaky. You start backing away from him. “Wait, wait. It’s been a hard day, we should take it out on each other’s bodies.”

“We are too old for the shower,” you can just see how this plays out, with someone slipping and falling. Or worse, both of you falling.

“No, we’re not. This is a perfect place to have sex because all our sins get washed down the drain.”

“Those sins cost a lot of money in a water bill, and I am afraid it’s too slippery in here. In theory that sounds extremely sexy. But why don’t you wash your balls, and I’ll lock the door, and then we can make sweet love in bed?”

“You’re mean. You could wash my balls with your mouth,” you give him a quick wink before fully leaving the shower, and Andy hurriedly washes himself. He gives himself a glance into the mirror while he towels off, and then throws it into the hamper. Remaining naked as he walks into the bedroom, and hisses between his teeth.

That’s what the wink was for. Looking all delicious and beautiful, you are on the bed, ass up in the air, while your face is on the mattress. “I take back what I said about you being mean,” watching him grow and harden while he walks closer to you is such an oddly satisfying thing. “Is this all for me?”

“It always was,” he runs his cock through your glistening folds. Using your juices as his personal lube, while he waits on himself to get to full mast. His fingers knead and caress your body, and you wiggle your ass around. Bouncing it, and circling it around before Andy slaps a cheek, causing you to yip. “Are you wanting to punish me, daddy?”

“Don’t start that shit again.”

“If I recall, you kinda got off on me saying that on one of your few visits from college. Everyone was so jealous that I was dating a college man,” Andy’s ego swells, right along with his cock, so you keep talking. “They’d see us out at dinner, and how needy we were for each other. They didn’t hear our whispers of how much we loved each other. How you were already so horny to see me pregnant, but knew it wasn’t the time.”

“Doe,” Andy warns, plunging two fingers into your cunt. His fingers immediately curl as he hits that spongy spot inside of you, and he drives himself in and out. The honey in your pussy create the most lewd sounds, echoing into the bedroom.

“Remember that one time?” his eyes flutter closed as he reminisces, “I told you that you had one time my senior year to knock me up. I was so scared, but at the same time, I wanted it. It was the end of the year, and it would mean that I didn’t have to go to my mom’s college. I could move in with you, and we could begin our life. But…I think this is how it was meant to be, and I love you more today than I could have ever imagined.”

He removes his fingers so quickly, popping his hips forward, and sheaths himself all the way to the hilt. Stabbing you into the depths of your soul, while he swells inside your warmth. His cock aching and throbbing, but he holds still. “I’ll protect you, too, daddy,” your voice whines out the last word, and you get another slap to your ass, “Andy.”

“You play too much.”

“You don’t like it?” Andy grips tightly to your hips, and begins pistoning inside of you. Harsh, sharp movements that leave you clinging to the bedspread. You whimper out his name, trying to push yourself back into him. You want him deeper. You want him all the way into your stomach. You never tire of him, never can get enough, so you wanted him to be welded to your insides.

“I’ll like it more when you talk to our kids about daddy, and it’s me you’re referring to. Doe, I don’t get off on that name. I get off on being a father, and having a family with you. I’m not an overly kinky man,” he pushes into your warmth so hard and deep, your body pushes forward on the bed. “I wouldn’t mind fucking your ass, though.”

“But you’re spanking me,” he does it again, and you sob out his name.

“Because you like it. You enjoy the slaps to your ass, so I will do that for you,” he spanks you again, and then spreads apart your cheeks. Staring so intently on where the two of you connect. Your arousal soaks his cock, and you suck him right back into you. Even your body couldn’t get enough of him.

“Your family loves you, but didn’t give you the attention you deserved. They didn’t care that you were out with me, when you shouldn’t have been. You even said you thought they hoped you got pregnant. And now here they are, traveling around the world, and don’t have a relationship with their grandchildren,” he barrels himself into you, but leans over your body.

Hips snapping him into you at the most toe curling angle, “It’s why we have each other. You and I were meant to be each other’s family.”

“I don’t want therapy during sex,” you mewl, glancing back at Andy. His steel blue eyes capture your own, and he goes deeper.

“You don’t want to talk about it any other time. You don’t have to be the strongest person anymore,” someone had to be strong. And you didn’t care if it was you.

“And neither do you,” Andy thrusts so deeply that you see stars. His grunts louder than normal as his seed spurts into you, and you hope and pray that this is the one that takes.

“You didn’t come,” he pants. He doesn’t leave from inside of you, but tucks his hand under your body as he stimulates your clit.

“But you did. I don’t think you understand the pleasure I get from feeling you,” Andy gives your shoulder a bit of a nibble as he works your bundle of nerves. “How good it feels to know that you still find me sexy, and want to fuck me. And that my body can give you so much pleasure,” his movements become erratic, more rapid and harsh as he tries to get you to the finish line.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives, and sometimes, it just might not happen,” he bites on you again, but this time a bit harder, mixing the pain with the pleasure, “But knowing that I’m the cunt your sinking into,” Andy’s hips start a wave of motions. He’s softening in your cunt, but he pushes you forward, giving you the illusion that sex is still happening, and your body tightens. Winding the coil in your belly up to the point of explosion.

“You will come, or I can’t sleep,” clenching your eyes closed, your head drifts to the bed, and you listen to his voice. Only his voice. Envisioning your new home, full of new memories with Andy. A baby on each of your hips as he plays in the yard with Audrey and Suede with a dog chasing the three of them.

The potential of Suede growing out of his allergies is there, you just had to stay consistent. You would. You and Andy were going to have the picture perfect life. There would be arguments, there would be hard times, but you would be together. You would give everyone the life that they deserved. The life you wanted, and craved.

“Andy!” you can hardly breathe with how much your body is clenched. His love and your pleasure race through your body, bones, and veins, until you can’t even see.

“You’re right there. You’re fluttering around me,” you wonder who the kids would look like. Would they have your lips? Or Andy’s eyes? Would they be tall or short? Would they have health problems? Would they be a girl, a boy? Who would they strive to be? You are going to enjoy whatever they bring to your life.

“Doe, I love you,” he sounds like himself now, but also that young man that you became obsessed with. You and Andy had already created a family all those years ago and didn’t realize it. You were each other’s family, and that’s why nothing else ever worked. It’s why you saw flashes of Andy holding onto your babies as they were born. He was always meant to be in the equation.

Children aren't an obligation to Andy, they are what he wants. It’s why everything is so easy for him. Because this is what he needs. And he craves it with you. Two people that fell in love too young, and somehow made their way back to one another, and nothing had changed. And you can’t wait to see Andy in every new part of his life.

“Andy, I’m coming. My god, I’m coming!” Nothing has ever felt more magical than in this moment. The way that he’s still connected to you as your pussy tightens around him. His grunting breaths fanning over your back, while he coaches you through your high. Life isn’t perfect, but starting today, you’re enjoying every moment for what it is.

You will get a divorce. You will get joint custody of the kids, and it will eventually become full custody. Suede will grow out of his allergies. Audrey will be able to be a child without mothering her little brother. And you will give Andy a biological child.

“Doe, will you marry me?” Andy asks as he kisses down your neck. So much for taking things slow. You didn’t care. You have never stopped loving this man, and you never would. To some this might not seem like the most romantic of proposals, but to you, it is.

The two of you are completely nude and vulnerable to one another. Legs and arms entwined together. You two connect in the most basic animalistic way. Skin on skin, heart to heart, soul to soul. It’s raw and feral, but it’s the most beautiful feeling and something like you’ve ever felt in a lifetime.

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Okay,” he exhales quickly. Smiling against your back. “Okay. When — you know when I get out of you, I’ll get the ring.”

“You have a ring?!” You nearly shout as you try to push him off you. He falls onto the bed on his back laughing. Holding onto his heaving chest, and you sit up in the bed looking at the district attorney like he’s a teenage boy, “Andrew Stephen Barber! You have a ring, and you wait until you and your cum are inside of me to ask?”

“I thought it was kinda sweet. It was in the moment, and we were fused together. It’s totally sweet,” collapsing on top of him, you giggling. It was sweet in a grotesque way. It made sense, even if you’re laughing so hard at the stark differences in proposals. Scott’s was big and extravagant, while Andy’s was just Andy. Literally nothing was between you.

“I feel you’re hornier in your older age.”

“I’m not the only one. Who was riding my cock in the middle of the night last night?”

“I was stressed about the appointment, and your hard on was sticking into my back. Your body was inviting me to it,” he pulls you closer into him, his hand rubbing up and down your back. He really was turning you on by you being able to feel him. You couldn’t help it, so you had to take care of him.

“I’m not complaining. Waking up to you using me to pleasure yourself was sexy as fuck. I’m just proving my point that you’re just as horny as I am, so don’t forget it,” you wouldn’t forget. It was his fault. How could you not be horny when you wake up to someone that looked like Andy? “We should get cleaned back up, and unlock the door, just in case the kids have bad dreams.”

They rarely toddled downstairs to join you and Andy, but the fact that he even thinks about them might showing up warms your heart. He didn’t care to have them in the room with you. “When are you giving me the ring?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll go on a date, and I’ll ask you again. If you say yes twice, then I’ll give you the ring,” as long as the two of you were together, it didn’t matter. You are engaged to Andy. Now to get divorced, and then your life with Andy and your babies can have a fresh start. Next stop is a house. Maybe a dog. Maybe a pregnancy. But it will always be Andy.

Next

Masterlist

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@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy @hisredheadedgoddess28

[worksby-d]

They Can't Take What's Ours

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: You overhear some people talking about your and Andy’s relationship and you don't want Andy seeing that it bothered you, but he's too attentive. 

Warnings: Age gap, established relationship, terrible coworkers, hurt/comfort-type vibes, sooo soft. 

Word count: ~2,200

a/n: A lovely anon asked if I could write something inspired by Ours - Taylor Swift so this is my take on that <3

Divider by @.saradika

Your hurried steps come to a pause right outside the door to Andy’s office. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath in, but can’t get yourself to let out more than a few shallow ones. 

Normally you’d be elated to have an excuse to see him for a few seconds in the middle of the day, but you know as soon as you walk in his face will drop. You can only conceal so much from him. He knows you too well and will see your bad day written all over your face, even if you are somehow able to muster a fake smile real quick.

Walk in, grab what you need, and walk out, you tell yourself. 

Someone turning the corner into the hallway you’re stalling in is your final push to finally walk in so no one else passes you and wonders what you’re doing outside his office.

Your eyes are on the ground, but you hear his voice, telling you he’s on the phone. You’re able to let out a discreet breath of relief as you reach for the file you came for and quickly turn to walk back out. 

The doorway is within reach when you hear him tell whoever’s on the other end of the call that he needs to put them on hold for just a moment. 

“Y/N?” 

It’s not like you to be in such a hurry with him. He caught a glimpse of your face and just needs to know you're okay. 

Overly conscious of the fact anyone could be in earshot, you answer with, “Yeah, Mr. Barber?” 

He knows for certain now that something's off since you didn't just use his first name. There’s zero reason for the formality right now. 

You avoid turning back to him, but he’s a step ahead of you, making his way across the room to gently grab you before you can walk out. He swiftly closes the door so there's no chance of anyone seeing you guys. 

“Stay, please,” he asks, letting go of you for just a second so he can step back to his desk to pick the phone back up and let them know he has to call them back. 

He waves his hand for you to follow him into the meeting room connected to his office for a better sense of privacy. 

“What's wrong?” 

The concern lacing his voice makes you feel bad, and you know he'll stand here with you all day if he has to to get something out of you. 

“I'm fine,” is the best you can offer.

You haven't allowed your eyes to meet his once though. He brings a hand up, using his fingers to gently move your head so you're finally looking at him. Your eyes look puffy and your makeup looks different than it did this morning, like some has been rubbed off. 

“Have you been crying?” 

“Can we talk about it later, please?” 

He pauses. He doesn't want to wait until later. He wants to help make you feel better now.

“I promise I'm fine, I just need to get back to work.” 

A small defeated frown tugs at his lips. 

“Okay… Later,” he says softly, but it's stern too. He’ll hold you to that. 

He leans to give you a quick kiss before walking you out, but you turn your face so his lips land on your cheek.

He holds back from pressing it any longer though, following as you walk out so he can open his door for you. 

“Meet me back here later so we can decide where to have dinner tonight?” 

“Sure,” you nod, forcing a small smile before leaving. 

He’s never ready to leave on time, so you walk into his office quietly when you come back at the end of the day, not wanting to interrupt anything. 

“Hey…” You speak softly to get his attention. 

He looks up right away, greeting you with a smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

His glance lingers, taking in the sight of you looking better than when he last saw you. Your eyes aren’t swollen anymore and you’re not so tensed up.

“I knew you wouldn’t be ready to go yet,” you laugh a little, closing the door behind you before making your way across the room to sit on his lap. 

“You know me so well,” he teases. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

Truthfully, he’s not getting any closer to being done, only pretending to finish up while he waits for you to address the elephant in the room. 

When you don’t say anything, he breaks the silence for you. 

“It’s later… You wanna talk about it?” 

You shake your head, letting out a short laugh. “Not really.”

He has a hand resting on your thigh, holding you in place. He strokes his thumb gently telling you he’s ready to listen. 

“I overheard some people talking about us today when I walked by one of the breakrooms,” you start. 

Finally looking into his eyes, you expect him to start asking questions, but his brows just knit together, waiting for you to go on. 

“About how they don’t get us, assuming I’m somehow using you,” you recall. You wish you would have just walked away, but you couldn’t. “And something about you not being able to date anyone closer to your age because no one older than me would put up with your baggage, or whatever.”

“Who?” He asks quietly, but he sounds serious. “I’ll take care of it–”

“No, please,” you beg softly. “That’ll make it worse.”

“I don’t want anyone around here making you cry.”

“I know,” you chuckle, sniffling a little. “But you doing anything would just give them more to talk about.”

The look on his face softens, and he brings a hand up to wipe a few tears that escaped off your cheeks. 

“It’s not like we’re all over each other. It just caught me off guard to hear anyone talking about us, I guess. I don’t know why they would be…”

You’re both conscious about keeping your relationship private at work. You’re aware that most people probably know you’re together since you come in together and show up to events together. But most days you go without seeing each other at all until you meet like this to go back home at the end of the day.

“Sounds like they need more work to do if standing around talking about other people in the building fits into their schedules…”

“Andy,” you laugh a little, shaking your head at him. “It’s okay. I don’t know why it bothered me so much.”

He lets it go, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead. 

“I know what it’s like to hear people talking behind your back…” He says softly.

Of course he does. Anything you heard is minuscule compared to what he’s probably dealt with before. 

He kisses the sympathetic look off your face. “I know what’ll make you feel better though.”

His hand leaves your leg so he can reach into one of his pockets, pulling out your engagement ring. He only proposed a couple days ago and you haven’t worn your ring at work yet, but you ask him to hold onto it for you so it’s not laying at home. 

“Can I give this back to you?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, holding out your hand for it. 

But he insists on putting it on your finger for you. “Let me.”

You smile at the diamonds glistening back at you, but it quickly fades as you look back up at him. 

“I’m sorry I don’t wear it here yet,” you whisper.

“You don’t have to,” he shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

He knows it’s not insecurity about your relationship. Your yes when he asked you to marry him a few days ago came out faster than he could have ever hoped for. It doesn’t cross his mind to question you over leaving it off just these few hours each day. He knows you like to keep things private, that you’ve never been one to overshare at work. It’s a wonder how he somehow broke through your guarded exterior all those months ago and became such a big part of your life. 

“I love you.” You kiss his cheek and move to get up. “I’ll let you finish up.”

“No, this can wait,” he says, quickly tidying up his desk, and gets up behind you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Your hand instinctively finds his, intertwining your fingers as you walk out together. You freeze for a split second though. “Oh– We didn’t decide on dinner…”

“I got it figured out,” he assures, giving your hand a squeeze to keep you walking. 

The car is quiet as he drives, your exhaustion from the day setting in now that you've gotten away from work. You let your heavy eyelids fall closed, only as a means of resting your eyes, but the way you jump when you feel Andy’s hand on your shoulder, you figure you did accidentally fall into a light sleep. 

“We’re here.” He gently shakes your shoulder before getting out of the car so he can walk around to open your door for you. 

You kind of knew where he was taking you based on the direction he headed when you left work. 

Luckily, he and you share a favorite restaurant. You frequent it as often as you can, the staff always joking that you're keeping them in business each time you walk in the door. 

You know something is up when the hostess at the front doesn't walk you to a table though.

“I know where we're going,” Andy winks at her and she just smiles, laughing at the questioning look you flash at each of them. 

He swaps which hand he's using to hold yours so his other can rest on your lower back as he guides you to one of the secluded corners. None of the tables are being used except one that’s set nicely with some candles and already has glasses of water and appetizers on it. 

“Is this for us?” 

Andy laughs at how you do that thing again where you stop in your tracks and he gets tugged back too because he's holding your hand. 

“How did you do this?” 

“I asked them very nicely and promised a lot of big tips for everyone who helped set it up,” he explains, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you. “I called shortly after you were in my office earlier. I just wanted a nice evening alone with you.” 

“You're crazy,” you whisper against his chest, letting out a small laugh. 

“Maybe,” he teases, dropping his hands from your back to grab yours again to bring you to the table. 

You pull him into the same side of the booth with you before he can pretend he doesn't want to. 

As soon as you're settled, a waiter is greeting you guys, helping move the plate and set of silverware on the other side of the table to the side you're both on. 

“Can I get either of you something else to drink?” 

“Uh, yes,” you chuckle, definitely in need of alcohol after the day you had. 

Andy orders a drink too and expects the waiter to walk away right away, but he looks back to you. 

“Could I see your I.D. quick, miss?” 

“Oh! Yeah–” You have to dig through your bag to find it. 

“You don't wanna see mine?” Andy scoffs, joking with him. “What are you saying, man?” 

“I mean, if you wanna show me yours too…” He laughs, holding up his hands as if to say by all means. “But I believe you.” 

“Unbelievable–” 

You playfully swat at Andy. “Leave him alone.”

Reaching across with your card, you tell the guy to ignore the pity party he's throwing.

He likes to joke about these things, but you can tell he goes through small bouts of seriously realizing he's getting older. 

“Don't pout,” you tease, bringing a hand up to his face to physically turn his frown upside down. 

“I'm not,” he grumbles quietly.

He pulls you closer and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling completely relaxed for the first time today. 

“You know what bothers me the most, right?” You break the moment of silence by reflecting on why you were so upset today. “I thought about it on the way here.” 

“What is it?” 

“It's not about people talking about our relationship,” you shake your head. “I know what we have and it's nobody else’s business. But I hate hearing anyone’s negative thoughts like that about you. You're the nicest, kindest guy and it hurts to hear anyone doubt that or doubt that I'm the luckiest person in the world for being with you.”

“I do have baggage though…” He tries to joke. 

“But that doesn't matter,” you chuckle. “Everyone does.” 

“Don't you worry your pretty little mind about me,” he whispers, turning enough to urge you to lift your head off of him. “I don't care what they say.” 

“I love you,” you smile, leaning to give him a kiss. 

“I love you, too.” 

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[navybrat817]

The Silent Treatment

Pairing: Dark!Andy Barber x Female Reader

Summary: You attempt to give Andy the silent treatment during dinner.

Word Count: Almost 500

Warnings: Implied NONCON/DUBCON, implied kidnapping, delusion, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: The Basement Spouses Writing Challenge Week 4! Character: Andy Barber. Length: 250-500 words. Prompt: "You think I care about you? Cute." ❤️ Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You made no attempt to eat your dinner as you sat at the table with Andy. You also hadn’t spoken a word to him since he got home. He warned you before he left for the day that he’d be home late, but you were still in a mood the moment he walked through the door. You greeted him with a kiss as expected, but you didn’t extend any additional warmth.

What had he done to deserve it?

Andy took a bite of his food with a hum of dissatisfaction. “I thought takeout would’ve been a good idea since I had to work so late, but this is kind of terrible,” he teased, looking to you for a smile that you didn’t give him.

Your silence was the most eloquent reply you could provide.

Clearing his throat, he pushed some of the food around on his plate. “Did you have a good day?”

You replied with a shrug before you stared off at the wall behind him. It was the first time you noticed that the floral painting he had hung up was slightly crooked. It was fitting considering he tried to put on a front of perfection, but something was off.

His sigh brought your attention back to him, watching wordlessly as he ran his fingers along his beard. “Honey, I’m trying, but you have to meet me halfway.”

Lifting your chin in defiance, you watched his blue eyes flash as you slowly shook your head. You weren’t in the mood to be nice today. You were tired.

“So, that’s it? You’re giving me the silent treatment? That isn’t how our relationship is going to work. You-”

“Our ‘relationship’? There is no relationship, Andy,” you finally spoke, bitterly laughing at his stricken expression. “What, you think I want to be here? You think I care about you? Cute.”

You flinched when his fork scraped his plate, his jaw tight as he pushed his chair back. You should’ve stayed quiet. Why had you opened your mouth? “I knew I let you out of the basement too early,” he said more to himself than to you. “That’s my fault.”

“Andy, please,” you whispered as he rounded the table to grip your arm. The plasticware and plate wouldn’t do any damage if you fought. He never left anything sharp around you. “Don’t send me back down there.”

“You haven’t learned yet,” he said, your body trembling when he kissed the top of your head. “But don’t worry. You will.”

You tried to apologize as he dragged you back down to the basement. Just as you had given him the silent treatment, he ignored your pleas as he pushed you into the dingy mattress and took what he wanted. Later he’d remind you that he chose you to be his perfect wife and he’d eventually let you back upstairs to try again.

Until then, he’d keep you in the prison he created until you learned to love him.

You'll learn eventually, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[anika-ann]

Underneath the Christmas Tree (A.B.)

Type: one-shot, drabble-ish, floof

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader WC: 1100

Summary: Your Christmas might not be perfect, but the person you celebrate with is.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw for allusions to smut, clichés and huge amount of fluff, mentions of insecurity in reader, celebrating Christmas

A/N: a little something to raise the holiday spirits, in the honour of @stargazingfangirl18 who slipped into many inboxes to spread the hoeliday cheer 💕I hope she and all of you can profit from a sweet moment with one mister B🎄// divider by @firefly-graphics

“You’re being a grinch,” he teased you lightly, thick arm wrapping around your waist from behind to keep you flush to his front.

You only frowned harder as you placed the single box under your Christmas tree. It looked absurd among the five boxes from your lovely devoted irritating fiancé – of course you’d be a little grinchy about it.

This Christmas was supposed to be perfect – because Andy Barber was and he deserved nothing less than that in return. You had prepared three presents for Andy in total – or you had tried so. Until the most important one, one you ordered and had custom-made took longer than expected. You ordered two months in advance, so proud of yourself for figuring out the gift for the man who stole your heart without intention of ever giving it back… and then came December, than half of it went, and then the day before Christmas Day arrived, ten a.m., three p.m., eight p.m. and since the clock was about to struck midnight, something told you your package wasn’t about to arrive in time. All your insecurities about deserving the wonderful man momentarily soothing you in his generous embrace resurfaced, making you feel inadequate and just… not enough.

So yeah, you were scowling a little. Especially since Andy was maybe not laughing at your misery, but was definitely at least slightly amused by the way you were expressing it.

“It was supposed to be perfect,” you echoed your thoughts wearily, feeling the stupid tears gather in your eyes. Dammit.

It was just… Andy truly was your Prince Charming. Your one. A kind, caring man with the biggest heart you had ever encountered, a bit dorky, but with maturity most men at any age couldn’t even dream of, and with sweet, almost gentlemanly ways that went out of the window once the door of your bedroom closed behind you. Assuming you’d make it as far as the bedroom. Or even into your house.

He deserved everything that was good in this world and more and there were times when you doubted you were the one able to give it to him.

You felt him smile against your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss there, pulling you back from your thoughts – and to fall on your ass – to sit between his legs on the floor with a tiny yelp on your part.

“It is. ‘cause you are, sweetheart,” he whispered to your ear, causing you to side-glance him at his sappy ways.

A soft smile was playing on his lips indeed, serene face illuminated by the warm lights on your Christmas tree, eyes shining with contentment.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, suddenly at peace. Damn, he was gorgeous. Ruffled hair, pretty lips framed by his perfectly trimmed beard, white tee and simple grey sweats, like a god of domesticity and happiness in the most ordinary moments. How could you protest, how could you doubt anything at all when he was like that?

“I love you,” you said instead, earning a soft peck to your lips, a whispered declaration in return. “I just… I was really excited to give you the present you deserve.”

Andy’s plush lips stayed but a breath away, closing the distance again at your admission, last remnants of your gloomy mood evaporating as he kissed you again, this time slowly, deeply, loving.

Then, he inched away, your eyes fluttering open only to meet the mischievous sparkle in his eye.

Your heart skipped a beat. Ah-oh.

“What-“ He reached for the single gift you had placed under the three, pulling at the bow and stealing it for himself. “Andy!”

He laughed at your scandalized expression, taking your left hand – the one adorned by a charming ring he had placed there barely a month ago – and swiftly wrapped the ribbon around your wrist, tying another perfect bow.

Your shoulders sagged, your face probably revealing as much of your exasperation as adoration.

“Here. My perfect gift, in all its glory.”

“You, mister, are an old sap.”

He grinned. “And yet, you agreed to marry me.”

Your gaze flicked between the bow and the gorgeous diamond on your finger, the widest of smiles tugging at your lips. “Yeah, what was I even thinking-“

“Hey!” he protested, deft fingers sneaking under your silky bathrobe in a vicious attack at your most ticklish spots, having you try to squirm from his hold – only accomplishing changing your positions until he trapped you under him lied flat on the fluffy carpet, his weight on you as warm as his gaze.

“See? My perfect gift, now even lying under the Christmas tree, all mine to unwrap. I’m a lucky man, aren’t I?”

His fingers sneaked lower, brushing over your hips and to your thigh, his hand freezing. The sweet warm gaze turned heated, drawn to your lips as your tongue peeked out to wet them. You felt your face flush with heat, even as your chest puffed with pride.

Cat got his tongue now, did it?

“Sweetheart?”

“There’s… I thought we might cheat a little. I didn’t wrap this one,” you admitted, a little disappointed when his weight disappeared and he only straddled your thighs – but the feeling was quickly replaced by satisfaction when Andy tugged, peeling your robe off, eyes feasting on your body adorned with the new lingerie you had bought, your nipples instantly hardening under the see-though material under his appreciative gaze.

“So…” you hummed innocently, fully aware of the way his sweats barely hid his growing arousal, just like your excuse of panties couldn’t hope to hide the growing wetness of your core, “what do you think?”

Andy’s lip curled in a smirk that had you stomach somersault, his eyes dark as coal, soft fingertips trailing over the soft curve of your breast, brushing your nipple with clear intent.

“Well, sweetheart, I think you just almost made it to the naughty list,” he mused, his other hand toying with the little ribbons on the side of your panties, lightly puling on it until fell apart smoothly.

Your breath caught in your throat, heat pooling in your belly as his fingertips followed the pattern of lace above your mound.

“Almost?”

Andy’s smirk was positively devious as he leaned down to press a kiss to your cleavage, dextrous fingers undoing the bow on your other hip as well, baring you to his greedy touch.

“But when I’m done with all the things I want to do you, sweetheart, when you let me do every filthy thing I have on my mind now… I promise you that’s you’ll be right on the top it.”

And Andy Barber was a true gentleman; when he made a promise, he always always delivered on it.

Misc characters masterlist

Full masterlist

Again, many thanks to Siri - and happy peaceful holidays to us all 💕

Thank you for reading 🥰

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒃𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒚𝒆𝒓

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - andy has been having a tough time between his job, his wife and his son in the hospital. he decides to treat himself to something sweet.

warning - smut, oral sex, gloryhole, cheating, swearing, daddy kink.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine. thanks to @lomlisarilevinson for sending in the requests that started this au.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Andy couldn’t keep dealing with his wife and his work. He had been so stressed, having to deal with the asshole trying to steal his cases and then coming home to his wife nagging him, making him miserable and wishing he was anymore else other than there. It hadn’t been the same as in the beginning, not since she intentionally crashed the car with his son inside. Their son was lying in a hospital bed, in a coma, all because of his wife, but he couldn’t find it in himself to leave her. Laurie had pushed him to his breaking point today, causing him to walk out, slamming the door and head toward a bar, only to be stopped by the flashing pink sign next to it.

He had always wondered about this place, wanting to see what it was all about but knowing it wasn’t suitable for him as he was married. Not that it had stopped many men, but still. Andy liked to think he was different from all the rest. Maybe if he still held love for his wife, he wouldn’t be walking through the door of The Strawberry Shack. Perhaps if she didn’t make him feel so drained and dead, he wouldn’t be putting cash onto the counter and walking through to where the girls were held. 

Andy surveyed the room to see who would be perfect for this little affair. He wouldn’t waste this. What was the point of cheating on his wife if the other woman wasn’t worth it? It wasn’t like he was getting anything at home, so the woman he chose here had to blow his mind. Andy walked over to your area, feeling himself harden in your presence. Something about being around you without actually seeing you did something to the men. As though you were a siren, luring the poor defenceless men into your trap. He decides to start small, wanting to test the waters before fully committing. Andy’s hands move down to his slacks, unzipping them slowly and taking his hardened member out, groaning as he strokes his hand up and down, swiping his thumb over his leaking tip. 

He moves closer to the hole in the wall, feeding his thick cock through it and groaning when he feels your wet tongue flicking across his swollen head. You slowly suckle him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you take his cock deeper, moaning around him as you taste his salty taste. You choke on him, becoming messy with your movements, unknowingly causing the man on the other end to try and find something to hold onto as he feels his soul begin to leave his body. You suck hard on his tip, swirling your tongue around his leaking slit, slurping him wonderfully. Andy’s eyes roll to the back of his head, wondering if he has suddenly died and gone to heaven. No one had made him feel like this. The way you were sucking his cock felt amazing, and it was so worth cheating on his wife for.

His head falls forward, connecting with the wooden wall as he pants, feeling his cock start to twitch, and his balls tighten. “Ugh, fuck! That’s right, darling. Milk daddy of all his cum!” Andy groans, moaning as you swallow him, picking up your pace until hot cum spurts from his mushroom tip deep into your mouth. You moan around him, swallowing every last drop of him before cleaning Andy up, licking him clean from the white cream. Andy pulls out of the hole, tucking his softening cock into his dress pants and zipping them up. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even feel a pang of guilt as he looks down at his wedding ring, shrugging his shoulders as he already plans to return to you. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[writing-for-marvel]

These are all the fics I've read in October. Please go show all these amazing writers some much deserved love! Also please remember to read the warnings for each individual fic

🔥 - smut | 💗 - fluff |💧 - angst | 😈 - dark

Dividers by @saradika

Bucky Barnes

💧 Meant To Be (series) by @rosepetalsinwinter

🔥 Might Even Be by @slyyywriting

🔥 Lose Your Voice by @navybrat817

💗 Feelin’ Gourd by @jobean12-blog

💧💗🔥 Insatiable by @/jobean12-blog

💗 Rooted in Love by @/jobean12-blog

🔥 Cockwarming by @vellicore

💧💗 Clingy by @imtryingbuck

💗 A Written Notion by @sweetdreamsbuck

💧🔥 Wait For Hours by @notafunkiller

💧🔥 One Night With You Part 1 by @jtargaryen18

💗 What He Deserves by @hannibals-favourite-meal

💗 Personal Pillow by @mrsbarnesblog

💗 Hot Chocolate by @littleseasiren

💧💗 Who The Hell Is Daryl? By @lostgirlmuseum

💗 Firefighter Bucky taking you in after a fire at your apartment building by @espinosaurusrexex

💧💗 What If I Am Too Much? by @notafunkiller

😈🔥 Ace of Wands by @flordeamatista

Steve Rogers

🔥 Love Bites by @lunarbuck

🔥 Eyes on Me by @1-800-jjbarnes

💗 Back Rubs by @sapphire-rogers

🔥 Car Sex by @stuckymonkey

🔥 Carnival Fun by @notyetneedcoffee

💗🔥 I’ve still got a few rounds left in me by @thyme-in-a-bubble

💗 Stars and Stripes by @intrepidacious

🔥💗 Breathe Me by @fushic0re

💧 Say It Back by @fandoms-writings

💗 The Second Date by @crazyunsexycool

🔥💗 Overstimulation by @myfictionaldreams

💧💗 Imagine Steve coming to be with you by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Wanda Maximoff

🔥 Somnophilia by @sytoran

🔥 Thigh Riding by @/sytoran

💗 The Purrfect Pair by @astrorogers

Frank Castle

🔥😈 Sacrifice Yourself and Let Me Have What’s Left by @mrsmischief209

💧🔥 Complicated by @targaryenvampireslayer

💧💗 How To Say I Love You by @feelmyskinonyourskin

💗 Domestic Frank by @strawhbrrries

Sam Wilson

🔥 Phone Sex by @/lunarbuck

💧💗 Love Me, Too by @onceuponastory

💗🔥 Sugar Daddy!Sam by @fluffyprettykitty

Andy Barber

🔥 The Devil by @/flordeamatista

💗 CEO!Andy by @holacia3

💗 Your Age Is Showing by @worksby-d

Lee Bodecker

😈🔥 Save Your Tears by @/flordeamatista

😈 Lights Out by @/vellicore

Joel Miller

🔥 Thrills by @moonlight-prose

🔥 Can’t Keep My Hands to Myself by @/jobean12-blog

🔥💗 Joel is such a sap after sex by @inklore

💧💗 Roommate Joel Collection by @/holacia3

Multiple Characters

💧😈 Surrender by @/mrsmischief209

🔥 Double Penetration by @/lunarbuck [Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers]

😈🔥 The Magician by @/flordeamatista [Lloyd Hansen & Nick Fowler]

[sarahrogersevans]

Oooh fluff where andy barber takes care of his new baby girl with his new wife, reader. jacob died here

Second Chance At Happiness- Andy Barber wife!xreader

Summary: Andy takes care of his new baby daughter with his new wife and still misses his son Jacob but gives his daughter and wife so much love and gets a second chance of happiness

Warnings: mild very mild spoilers of Defending Jacob series! Though barely anything mentioned, Fluff, angsty, flashbacks of memories, happy Andy, soft Andy, let me know if I miss anything

~Andy’s POV~

I couldn’t believe how lucky I got with Y/N and our daughter Lilly, after everything I went through in the past I wasn’t sure if I’d fall in love again let alone have another child but I honestly couldn’t be happier. Our daughter Lilly is now two years old and so beautiful just like her mom Y/N. Y/N saw me walk in after I got home from work and she brought Lilly over and said “Hi Andy welcome home! look honey, daddy’s home why don’t you go say hi to daddy while I go get dinner out of the oven.” “Hey Y/N my love and oh good hi pretty girl.” She handed me Lilly and I took her in my arms carefully and said “hi darling how are you doing today hmm? Were you a good girl for mommy today?” I kissed her cheek and we went to sit down and I handed her one of her toys while we waited for dinner to be ready.

Later after we all ate dinner together I read a bedtime story to Lilly and when she fell asleep I softly said “the end.. goodnight sweet girl I love you very much sweet dreams.” I pulled the blanket a bit more on her and turned off the light and went to bed and cuddled with Y/N for a bit.

Y/N laid her head on my chest and I put my arm around her and rubbed her back gently. Y/N said “I’m getting a little jealous of Lilly I think you might love her more than me.” She teased and winked at me and I chuckled and said “no way Y/N I love you both equally and I adore you so much babe you make me so happy but I do love our daughter a lot I can’t believe this is all real sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve this ..” I thought back to everything that happened with my ex wife and my son Jacob and I sighed sadly and Y/N knew everything that happened and she comforted me and said “hey shhh you deserve to be happy Andy I love you and Lilly does too ok? It’s gonna be alright Andy, we’re here and we’re not going anywhere I promise.” She smiled and kissed me softly and I put my hand on the back of her head and leaned in to kiss her more and I leaned my forehead against Y/N’s softly and I whispered “I love you and Lilly both so much I’m so thankful for you both I don’t know what I’d do without you honey.” Y/N and I held each other all night and no matter what happens I knew I’d do anything for my family.

During the night I had a nightmare and memories of the trial, the accident and the arrest and seeing my dad a few years ago came flooding back so I went to sit in Lilly’s room to check on her and I watched her sleep for a bit and just seeing that she was safe and asleep in her bed made me smile so much and I heard Y/N come in quietly and she rubbed my shoulders and kissed my head and said “nightmares again honey?” I nodded my head and hugged her tight and felt a few tears escape my eyes and I said “I love you baby I swear I will love and protect you both no matter what happens you both will always have me you both mean so much to me Y/N, I can’t lose you or Lilly..” Y/N kissed my cheek and whispered “shhh it’s ok Andy I know we love you so much and you won’t lose us ok? Lilly is safe and I’m here with you honey it’s alright it’s gonna take time but I promise you’ll be alright I’ll be right here helping you through this my love, I love you so much Andy I’m so glad I married you.”

That moment when Y/N said that I kissed her forehead and felt happy for the first time in a very long time and I knew this felt right.

Hi Luv! I hope this is close to what you wanted 😊💜xx enjoy!

Taglist:

@jessybarnes

@lokiandbuckysdoll

@sunshine-on-my-mind