#Dark!Andy!Barber x Black Reader

[littlemelaninfics]

Could u please write a dark non con cevans or andy or loyd i beg

A/N: this is so short bc i have work, but enjoy and thank you for the request. I woke up to this request when I saw this post. This is based off of that 💕

"We're making a baby tonight, not trying for one."

He didn't give her an option. She knew he was all or nothing and the second she uttered the words "I Do", he took everything.

She had stopped struggling a while ago, the vicious rocks of her body pushing the remaining tears out. Waking up with bruises was nothing new. It was the thought of waking up to the rest of her life that made her want to swan dive off their luxury hotel balcony. She had no plan, no savings, no way out.

After losing his ex-wife, Andy had a reputation to maintain. He knew knocking her up before walking down the isle was not a way to be taken seriously in his hoity toity town. That's why he loved bombed her. And manipulated her. And twisted her. He knew he had her the first time he struck her.

It didn't take long for her to be pushed and pulled, quite literally at times, but she was officially weighed down when she woke up one morning with a giant rock on her finger and a wedding invitation on her bedside table.

Andy wanted-I'm sorry, Andy was getting more children and he was done waiting. He rushed wedding, gushing to anyone who asked that why wait for true destiny. He had decided that her destiny was to bare his children.

She was snapped from her mind when her air supply was cut off. Mixed with the weight of his body on top of hers, she started to panic. She tried to thrash and pry as best she could, only to be met with solid resistance. She was trying to scream, finally getting one out when Andy adjusted his hand. He covered her mouth, pushing his hand down hard on her gums while he drove his cock deeper.

She couldn't breathe properly, but tell he was close. She shut her eyes, wanting to visually remember as little as possible. Andy grunted and moaned before falling limp on top of her. She still had her eyes closed, trying her best to listen to the bustling nightlife beneath her. She knew this would be an everyday occurrence until she got pregnant and since Andy has wanted her carrying his child for some time now, she also knew it would never stop as her body enters new phases that he forced it to.

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Bitch! Please write Demon Dr. Barber x plus size BLACK reader & Make it Nasty!!

Demon Dr Barbar x Plus Size Black Reader

@titty-teetee Deffo rusty, lol but I tried! I hope you like it <3

Andrew Barber, Andy for short and Doctor Barber to his patients, tossed the razor sharp edged blade to the wood floor of your bedroom. He watched your hip writhe under his grip as the rest of your underwear fell away. On his knees, his fingers delicately unfolding you, spreading you open as a bible to a theologian. Andy’s eyes burned with hate but his heart, if you could call that black void a caring center, filled with obsession. 

He licked long, tasting what was now his, the bushy hair of his chin tickled your skin in the wake his tongue and you shuddered. His long fingers glided over the curvy lines of your hips, he pushed his face in harder to your core and pulled you closer as he sunk his tongue all the way in. An unexpected shriek from your throat hardened his dick. The tortured squirming, the hurting and yearning panted whimpering he caused you to express exploded pride in his chest.

Andy felt his eyes cloud, he wasn’t afraid but he knew you might be as he rose from between your thick legs. It was time, he decided. He was was glad of the dim light shade, but as the darkness swirled inside him it pulled away the golden hue illuminating the room. He watched you now, laying there your skin glowing under what might be described as moonlight. You opened your eyes looked toward him as Andy slowly descended over your body.

His legs between yours, spreading you further open, he felt the jump in your heartbeat as your eyes met his now completely blackened orbs. He smiled down at you while grabbing your wrists in anticipation that you might try and fight back. 

“It’s time to pay your due,” his deep voice whispered. 

He watched you blink once, twice, and struggle to understand what you were seeing. And like he knew you would you did try move from him. Andy held you there, his hips pushed forward. This was his favorite moment, your eyes widen as he invaded your will, your body.

Wicked. If demons could love this was it. Pouncing on the woman, you, that he wanted to possess body and soul Andy began to ensure that you took every inch of him. And when your mouth fell open in a silent scream he put his mouth over yours. His devilish forked tongue, surprisingly warm and wet slid in. He jerked your hands over your head, picked up his thrusting pace and kept taking your breath away with every rub of his tongue over yours. Consuming you and feeling you give over your will to only him Andy promised himself this one would be different.

This human woman would live. Even as ghostly wisps of black shadow descended over and with every breath you strived for started to feel as if your lifeforce was draining. Andy held back and waited.

Your pained moans turned to yearning whispers after every kiss. You cinched around him the shorter his strokes became. Faster, more driven thrusts had your body shaking until you reached the pleasurable end. But Andy kept going. Once again devoting himself to holding back his instinct to send you into a delicious anguishing experience for his pleasure. He allowed another desire to take root, one that usurped the will of his human mother. The one his angel father used to conquer a mortal womb.

Andy let go, pouring sinfulness into you and the room went black.  

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Paradise Regained ||

Summary: Andy, your fiancé, doesn't like the way you look at his identical twin, Lloyd.

Pairing: Fiancé!Andy Barber | Fiancée!You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Andy Barber. This story contains mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. Please DO NOT REPOST my work in any way and DO NOT USE MY IDEAS WITHOUT PERMISSION, thank you.

Warning(s): Spanking (hand and ruler), dom!Andy, possessive!Andy, dacryphilia, dumbification, babying, power imbalance, behavioral adjustment, wife kink, naive!reader, arranged marriage, age gap, humiliation, degradation.

Note: This is a spin-off situation of -> Paradise Lost <- and my coping mechanism for it because I physically cannot deal with cheating. This takes place before the actual cheating can ever start. Also, the lack of Andy Barber spanking fics is absolutely criminal. Also, I lowkey avenged him here lmfao! Ps, we will make this my 1k celebration fic, thank you so much for everything! And as always, feedback is much appreciated! 🩷

MASTERLIST

They are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.

It had happened at the opening of some huge high-end mall Andy had been working on for quite some time now. Today was the day all his hard work and long meetings would pay off. He had built something from his own finances, on his own, and not his father's money. It would not be an overstatement to say that the male could not be happier; successful, still young for achievements of this sort and happily yours. 

You. 

His greatest treasure. 

A frown made its way on his handsome face when his ocean blue gaze shifted to you from the extravagant decoration lights that his father had been commenting on a minute prior. You were standing next to him as usual, humming and nodding along to something his mother was talking about. And though one of your arms remained looped around his, your eyes were elsewhere.

Somewhere he did not appreciate them being in the slightest.

Andy stiffened and his jaw clenched as his gaze slowly followed yours. The usually composed man couldn't help but let out a frustrated exhale through his flared nose when just as he had expected– known, Lloyd stood at the opposite end of the celebration area, enjoying your fancy. The younger male was surrounded by a few men but his disgusting gaze was settled on you with the most disturbing lopsided smirk spread over his cunning face.

The more Andy's twin eye fucked his future wife while dangling a champagne glass between his fingers, the angrier he got.

He had not meant for it to happen, honest. As someone who had perfected his composure with someone like Lloyd as practice, he was not supposed to give in to his rage like this. Andy was supposed to be better than this; than his brother. But he could not help himself. It had been months since you saw his twin for the first time and had immediately gotten awestruck. Your fiance hated the twinkle in your eye whenever his brother was around. The blush of your cheeks burnt his chest as he tried to ignore it every time but in vain. How your fingers tightened around his arm unconsciously, the way you bit your lip and fell out of conversation due to the diversion of attention.

All for Lloyd. 

And not him;

Your husband to be; the supposed sole owner of your fancies and blushes. 

Andy had had enough.

He finally snapped when you did not respond even after the third time he tried to steal your attention from his twin. The man sighed and set his champagne glass down on a tray one of the servers passing by him were holding. Steal your attention. He wanted to scoff at the absurdity of it. Your fiance had to fight for something that was his in the first place! 

Andy wanted to do unwise and improper things at the thought but he wasn't his brother.

"A- Ah! Ow, hon!" You gasped as your dreamy gaze tore away from Lloyd who was frowning now as he witnessed what was unfolding from his spot on the opposite side of the makeshift party space. "Dear!" You protested in confusion, taken aback by how Andy had suddenly pulled you away from your company and staring contest. He had never done anything like this before. "Hold on, dear! I'll slip because of these heels! What's wrong?!" Your heart leaped up due to the adrenaline rush his manhandling was causing, panic filling your senses as you looked around to possibly locate the cause of his apparent agitation. "What has gotten into you all of a sudden?!" 

Andy stopped in a deserted passageway, his broad back turned to you. You raised your eyebrows to prompt an explanation when he finally turned to face you. But instead of justifying his actions, your fiance only ducked in your direction to clasp his hands around your lap to pull you closer only to swing your body over one of his shoulders. You squealed and jumped when he stood back up to his full height. 

"Oh my God, Andy!" You would have giggled if it weren't for the very stern expression on his face. He was really upset about something. And he was expressing it in a very new way.

Your confused mind was yet to decide what you thought of it. 

"That is not what you call me" a loud gasp escaped you when he suddenly landed a loud and harsh eye-widening smack on your clothed ass before marching to the lift that would take you to his office. 

"Dear, I am sorry! I- I- what's happening?!" You dumbly squeaked out a panicked apology, feeling your insides heat up due to the sudden shift of power despite knowing just what the hell was going on. Andy felt so much bigger and mightier all of a sudden. You were so small and helpless in his hold as you felt your ass cheeks part due to the position you were in. "What are you-! Ah! Dear!" You complained when he landed three more smacks in quick succession. One on each cheek and the last one in the middle. 

"You don't know?" Your fiance scoffed and you gulped at his tone, embarrassed and intimidated as you hung upside down from his shoulder. The lift stopped with a ding. 

"... N- No…?" 

"Of course you don't. You are too small and stupid, aren't you hon?" Your eyes widened at his choice of words. He had never, not even jokingly, had ever behaved with you this way before. It was filling you with anticipation (for exactly what you knew not) and adrenaline. When Andy finally reached his office and placed your sore ass down -courtesy of his unexpectedly horrendous strength- on his huge work table, you felt tiny under his firm gaze. A whimper escaped you as you lowered your eyes, face hot. 

"I am sorry, dear. But I really don't u- understand…" You pouted a little, fiddling with your thumbs as you felt this kind of nervous and… small for the first time in your life. 

Andy sighed before he leaned in. "I am not surprised. I know you are just a naive little silly girl. You don't actually mean to hurt your husband, do you?" His voice was low and deep. 

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him with a quick jerk of your head. "Hurt? You? Of course not, An- hon!" You quickly corrected yourself when he raised an eyebrow in a challenging manner. 

Fuck. 

"But you still did" you tilted your head to the side dumbly, not having the slightest idea that he knew and could tell every time you were ogling over Lloyd. "I am sorry to say, dear. But you've been a very bad girl to me" your bottom lip jutted out at his words. No. This was not how you normally behaved but there was something about the way he had suddenly taken control and made you feel so small all in a matter of a couple minutes. 

You had never expected Andy of all people to be like this. 

But you couldn't lie, it excited you. 

"I am sorry, dear! I didn't mean to! I really didn't!" You assured him earnestly, reaching for one of his hands to hold in yours. "... B- But I really don't know what you are talking about…" You mumbled sheepishly, lowering your head once more when he sighed again. 

"Just the dumbest little girl, aren't you, honey? Need your husband to spell everything out for your tiny brain to understand?" You peeked up at him through your lashes with a soft pout on your face, the degrading words stinging at your hot skin. "But that's it, isn't it? Otherwise, why would you hold your fiance's hand -like you should, by the way- but stare at his brother with that stupid twinkle in your eyes" your face heated up even more and heart rate jumped up again. Oh no. You shook your head and attempted to explain yourself, afraid of all the ways this could go. But no words came out. 

Andy nodded to you gaping like a choking fish as if he had expected it. "Are you a slut then, dear?" You had never felt smaller or stupider.

You audibly gasped before shaking your head. "N- No! Of course not!"

"Do you want him instead?" You gulped down the bile in your throat as you watched his face to try and guess if he really meant it or not. But it was so hard to do that when his stature was so huge and handsome face nonchalant. Andy sighed and shook his head. "Honey, that was a rhetorical question…" You wanted to cry out from the frustration at this point. He was being so mean! 

But you felt so called out and guilty. 

"I- I am sorry, dear!" You whimpered with an apologetic pout, submitting almost instantly because you did not have a choice when he was being like this. There had always been something so soft yet stern about Andy. How he always compromised and assisted but never backed down if it was something truly disagreeable. "I- I… It has n- never happened. I- I dunno what got into me when I saw him for the f- first time… I- I do feel bad…" You helplessly confessed, caressing the top of his hand that you were holding with your thumb.

Andy hummed before nodding. You sighed in relief because that seemed to have convinced him that you didn't mean to do it. "I see." You had expected him to lash out like Lloyd did whenever something went against his liking. "So your small brain is just having trouble differentiating and distinguishing." His other hand pushed your hair away from your face. "I should have known. We look almost exactly alike, after all. Your little brain was bound to get confused." 

That… did make a little sense, actually.

"I- I am sorry for being so stupid and bad, dear…" Your eyelids fluttered at the feeling of his fingers tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. 

"It's okay, hon. It's not your fault. You're just too much of a dumb little baby, aren't you?" You relaxed into his palm as he caressed your cheek, thumb toying with your lips. "That's why you need a husband; me. So I can help your little brain reason when it gets too silly. To remind you of where your loyalties lie." His voice was so deep and coaxing that no matter what he would have said in this moment, you would have believed it with your whole heart. 

This new side of Andy was bringing out a hidden side of you as well.

"Y- Yes, hon… N- Need you" you felt bad. Not only because of your guilt. But because he was confronting you about something so serious but all you could think about was how big he was. How he could do whatever he pleased and you would have no choice but to be his little toy– woah. 

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts. 

But he was making you so excited. So warm. So…  needy. An unfamiliar vibration had started to thrum through you.

"So then will you be a good wife and take your punishment because you know you deserve it?" Punishment? You lowered your eyes and nodded still, the heavy guilt pressing hard on your chest. "Use your words, doll." Your insides twisted at the word. God. "I know it is hard for you to speak like a big girl because you're so small and silly but I need you to try for me, okay?" 

"Y- Yes, dear… I will take my punishment l- like a… good wife…" You responded with much difficulty, blushing so hard your skin's defense system started to try and cool it down. 

"That's my girl." Andy praised before he gently retreated his hand from yours and backed away. "Come here and help your husband with his coat, baby. Good wives always do their best to cooperate in punishments because they want to be on their best behavior for their husband." You shakily adjusted your dress as you winced while slipping off the table. The spanks you had received on the way here were still sore. "Do you want to be on your best behavior for your husband, doll?" 

Oh dear. 

All these pet names were adding to everything else. 

You were going to combust into fumes before whatever he was planning to do to you was through at this point. 

"I- I do… h- hubby…" Your words caused him to smile and you couldn't help but sigh to yourself in relief as you shyly helped him out of his coat. Finally!

"Good girl." Andy praised as he now placed one of his hands into yours. "Undo the cuffs" you gulped to yourself when you complied and his other hand heavily placed itself on the top of your head while you were at it, nails scratching your scalp comfortingly. "You're doing so good, honey. Making me proud already." The corners of your lips pushed outwards as you shyly rolled his sleeve up to his elbow and only then realized that his dress shirts and jackets did nothing for his body. 

Damn. 

You barely managed to pull yourself through doing his other sleeve before he praised you and ordered you to bend over the table; the order causing you to nearly choke on your own spit.

His rather condescending words added to the heat pooling between your legs. 

"Now. I am going to need you to be brave for me, okay dear?" Andy reached over from behind you to pick up a very sturdy looking wooden ruler from the side of the table where all the stationary was laying neatly. "This may be a bit scary and painful but you deserve it for being such a dumb baby. So be good and prove that you are sorry, okay?" There was a compelling effect in his tone; it was so agreeable that whatever he said seemed to be the only truth to your clouded mind.

"Y- Yes, hubby." 

"Good baby" he stroked your still covered cheeks with the ruler. "I will give you some clothed, the rest bare. Since you have been at this for months, the count is up to me and how red I like your ass. Fair enough?" 

You gulped and nodded, still getting used to the rather humiliating position. "Yes, dear." 

Andy only hummed this time around as he squeezed your cheeks one last time. And then the ruler whipped through the air and sent you screeching against the wooden table. 

"Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh my God! Oh my God!" Your ass was on fire due to the force he had used. "Oh!" You went to rub it but the man tutted and softly smacked your hands away with the tip of the ruler. 

"No touching. You deserve it" his voice had turned dark. Another smack. And then four more in quick succession. 

Okay. 

He was definitely channeling his pent up frustration through this. 

"I am sorry! I am so sorry, hubby– owwwieee~!" You couldn't help but kick a leg when he suddenly started to aim for your sit spots repeatedly, heating them up just as generously. "Oh God! Oh God!" All of this made you feel so owned that it was driving you crazy with all sorts of urges and thoughts. And when Andy placed his free hand on the small of your back to keep you in place, you just wanted to hug him as he landed more lashes. "Please! Please!" You were so sensitive that you just wanted to hug him and apologize, your antics that had led to this moment playing over and over in your guilty mind. 

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Tears streamed down your face as you nodded and audibly agreed using incoherent speech. "I felt worse each time I looked at you and you were looking at him. Staring at him hungrily like a starved little puppy while your man was right beside you struggling to get your attention, tsk. Always cutting me off to engage in conversation with him." Andy clicked his tongue as he peeled your dress up and away. "Such a dumb little slut, aren't you, doll?" Just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the first bare spank (you still had your underwear on) indicated that it was about to. 

"I am sorrryyyyy! I'll never do it againnnnn! Promise!" Your chest was heaving as you tried to move your seething ass out and away from his punishing hand but to no avail. "Please! I was stupid! I- I am sorry! Please!" Fuck. He was so good at… handling you. 

You couldn't help but like the loss of control as he rained more and more spanks on your poor ass, paying no mind to your pleas. 

There was something so arousing in Andy's sweet homeliness and how it contrasted his calm, icy anger that you were being subjected to for the very first time. Always speaking so little but saying so much. So caring yet firm when the moment called for it. Confident and calm in his authority that he exercised like a true gentleman and not a boy with too much of daddy's power on his hands. Unlike a certain someone. 

You had let your stupidity overshadow the kind of man that Andy Barber was. 

The true husband material. 

Man, how your parents always ended up being right never failed to amaze you.

Because you had found yourself thinking about how they couldn't have just paired you up with Lloyd instead. He too had seemed good in his own way.

Until…

You had all your answers now. 

After a good few minutes of roasting your ass, Andy halted the assault once his own breathing had gotten labored. "You are doing such a good job, baby doll. I am so, so proud of you." He rubbed your back and peppered kisses all over it. And though you were sobbing you couldn't help but lean into his touch. 

Such a perfect mix of firm and soft. 

Your body was losing it down there. 

"I am sorryyy~" you gurgled through your tears messily. 

"I know. I can see it. You've proven yourself." He calmed you down as he helped you breathe easier by guiding you through a short exercise and relieved the wheezing and howling with the use of gentle praise which stood at total odds with his prior actions. Though he didn't let you move just yet, Andy helped you sip a bit of water before he spoke again. 

"Now. I will be taking your underwear off for the last few lashes…  And I need my brave little baby to be honest with me and tell me if she's really okay with it. Because she doesn't have to agree to it if she doesn't want me to." Your ears perked up even in the state you were in. Finally! You sighed to yourself as you bit your lip. Maybe when he was done he would help you with the awful thumping in your pussy. 

He had to… right? 

"I- It's okay, hubby. P- Please do~" you sniffled out almost chirpily, the eagerness in your tone making him raise an eyebrow that he decided to shrug off.

"Good doll." Andy's fingers wrapped around the sheer material before he gently pulled it down. "Now, I will give you 20 and you will count them out loud. But if you mess up, I will have to start again." The way he used the ruler to caress your burning cheeks caused something to trickle down your leg. The sight made him snicker. "Such a dirty little girl you are, dear." Before you could react to his observation, you were gasping in response to the first concluding lash. 

Your leg kicked up before the base of your foot slapped the ground beneath you to cope, a shudder of both pain and arousal seeping through every cell in your body despite the distraught state that you were in.

"Baby bun?" 

"Y- Yes, dear?!" You cried out as your fingers gripped the edges of the table tightly. 

"Unless you want this to go on for the rest of the evening, I suggest you start counting." Your eyes widened as you realized that you had forgotten to count. But another hit had been packed against your flushed skin already by then. 

"T- Two!" Andy tutted.

"No, that was one." You gasped and whipped your head to face him, teary eyes wide.

"B- But! Th- This is the second one!" He smirked while caressing your sit spots with the punishing apparatus. 

"You didn't count the first one." As he raises the ruler again you hurriedly yelled.

"Fine! Fine! One!" Your fiance chuckled as he initiated the final sequence that was unforgiving and unstopping in its brutal wrath. "FIVE! SIX! SEVEN!" Andy alternated between your ass and sit spots as he commanded you to thank him after some ten spanks. "TWELVE, THANK YOU DEAR! THIRTEEN, THANK YOU MY LOVE! FOURTEEN, THANK YOU HONEY!" You were almost hysterical towards the end and were sure you would have been if it hadn't been for him calming you down before getting on with this. "TWENTY, THANK YOU SO MUCH, HUBBY!" 

Placing the horrendous ruler in its place at last, Andy gathered you in his arms at last, switching spots so now he was sitting at the edge of the table with you curled against him between his legs. He murmured sweet nothings and praises in your ears as he rubbed your back softly. 

It took you a while to calm down and apologize in a level headed way. Andy fixed your clothes as gently as he could after that, helping you sip on some more water as he dabbed your tear streams dry with a tissue. It was when he wiped at a bit of your snot did you realize just how comfortable you had always felt with him. It wasn't that you didn't like to look good for him. But it was his affectionate gaze and reassuring manner that never made you feel self conscious in front of him. You could always be your relaxed self with Andy without any fear of judgment. 

The thoughts made you reach for his beard and scratch it a little, the gesture making him smile. 

You didn't say much and just accepted his care until after you had fully stopped crying. It was after you had fixed his sleeves and cuffs before putting on his jacket for him that he took your hand in his to rejoin the party downstairs that you stopped him.

"Wait, h- hubby" you hiccuped. Andy turned to face you with a hum. "I- Erm… I…" You lowered your head sheepishly. 

"What is it, doll?" 

God. 

This name made your insides twist in the best way.

"N- Need… you…" You guided your intertwined hands to the aching spot between your legs sheepishly. A whimper escaped you when he allowed his hand to linger there for a second, even grazing it against your sensitive core before snickering. 

"You want to have our first time here?" Andy asked in disbelief and your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. You peeked up at him through your lashes while shyly biting your lip. "Baby doll," your fiance stroked your cheek with the back of his free hand before leaning down a little to face you directly. "We are civilized people who belong to a respectable society. Not some savages of instinct." His condescending guidance coupled with the dominance he was exuding in this moment pulled a whimper from you yet again. 

"S- Sorry, d- dear." You looked away from his intense gaze. "J- Just…" you shook your head. "I am sorry." 

"That's my girl." 

You rejoined the party hand-in-hand. Except, you did not look at anyone but him this time around. It was only now that you realized that while you were busy ogling over others, there was so much to observe and swoon over at what was right besides you. Yes, there was not exactly a sense of lingering danger to thrill you, but you had Andy's dark ocean blue eyes to melt for as each time he looked at you, they ignited a powerful spark of need in every single joint of your body. 

And said need Andy fulfilled that night. With you writhing on his bed under him with your hands above your head and mouth agape, his expensive penthouse mostly dark against your teary eyes. Andy grunted with each thrust he gave to your tiny pussy that his cock pushed open each time more and more each time he moved, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as you screamed praises and thanks until you blacked out. The following morning wasn't much different.

Neither was the rest of your very happy life together.

[buckets-and-trees]

Prepare For Takeoff

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

Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, dubious existing engagement

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is this?” You call up loudly.

“You know what it is.”

“Where are we going?”

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

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

You hate this because you know he is right.

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

That is the constant curse in this relationship.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fact that there’s furniture…

“It’s not normal.”

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

“But what if I liked normal?”

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

You sigh and look straight ahead.

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

“Bourbon or champagne?”

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

“No, thank you,” you decline.

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

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

“Call if you need anything, sir.”

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

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

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

“Andy…” you hedge.

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

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

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

You whimper and throw your head back.

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

You know it, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

go to the next part: DON'T LOOK TOO FARI'm Your Man Collection Masterlist

[chaos-to-my-thoughts]

Seriously, fuck Andy Barber!! The gaslighting POS.

Ticking Clock: Fifteen

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Mentions of drugging, I’m tagging it non-con/dub-con due to drugging, language, unprotected sex, manipulation, gaslighting, assault, emotional breakdowns, threats, hints at post-partum depression as a tactic.

Word Count: 4.4K

gif by @voyevoda-thejoy​

Dark! Andy Barber x Fem! Reader

Summary | After your boyfriend is sentenced to prison by Neal Loguidice, you continue to find yourself in the crosshairs of Andy Barber, who is intent on keeping you close under the guise of being a friend in your time of need.

“She’ll be fine with Grandma, won’t you, sweetheart?”

Your mother lifted Violet out of your arms, snuggling her close while Andy handed her the diaper bag. You stood, unmoving as she held up Violet’s little hand to wave, your throat closing up at the sight.

It was for one for a night, Andy assured you, your look of surprise catching him off guard while he sliced up vegetables at the counter. He had been outspoken about not having the baby leave the house, only to reverse his own direction without consulting you.

“You didn’t ask me,” you started to say, the door closing behind you.

“Your parents have been asking for the baby for a little while. Figured it would be okay. You told me your father has been wanting to spend more quality time with her. Didn’t think it was a big deal.”

You know they aren’t far, your parents staying at her sister’s place not far from where you live. Still, watching your mother leave with your baby makes you uneasy, the alarm chiming as the door closed shut. There was another reminder that Violet would be surrounded by three adults, all willing to protect her if something were to happen, both Andy and your mother emphasizing that nothing would happen because everyone would be just fine.

Dinner was quiet, Andy studying you while you pushed your food around your plate with your fork. Truthfully, there was much you wanted to say but no way of saying it without sounding over the top.

It wasn’t that you minded your mother taking the baby. It was that Andy hasn’t asked. He’d made the decision for you and you knew it didn’t sound right, having him ask for your permission for your own parents to watch your daughter.

“Want some wine? Might take the edge off.”

His question hung in the air for a moment as you swallowed a bite of your food before you answered.

“I can’t,” you reminded him quietly. “Violet.”

“She’s gonna be gone for the night, honey. It’s alright. It’ll be out of your system before she comes home.”

Andy disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, the plink of the glasses on the counter making you reminisce on the last time you had a drink.

The last time you drank was the night you conceived Violet.

Andy placed the glass in front of you as you took it, taking a small sip as he sat back at the table. He looked more relaxed than he had in weeks.

“Better?”

Keep reading

[krirebr]

I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: ~1k

Summary: Andy gives you an early Christmas present. Why aren't you happier about it?

Warnings: Dark elements, threats of punishment, implied punishment, it's dark fic but mostly by implication. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: This is for @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge. The prompts I used, from the Naughty list, were 23. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.” 12. “Smile pretty for me.” and 19. “No one else is gonna take care of you like I do.” Thank you for the fun challenge, Navy and Roo!

This was my first time writing for Andy, aside from his brief appearance in Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire, the winner of this poll. Big thanks to @paperweight91 for helping me figure out my take on him. This is basically just a long drabble, but I hope you all enjoy it!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You sat stiffly on the loveseat as Andy rummaged around under the tree. You pulled at the hem of your black, sparkly cocktail dress. It was much shorter than you were comfortable with, but you were used to that now—your comfort not mattering. 

He made a noise of triumph and stood up tall, coming back to sit next to you on the couch. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package. “I know it’s a bit early, but I wanted you to open this one before we go to the party. Merry Christmas!”

You’d been dreading his office’s holiday party all week. All those people judging you, all those opportunities to mess up. You took the package and quietly said, “Thank you.” 

He chuckled, lightly. “You haven’t even opened it yet. Go on.”

As you carefully unwrapped the gift, your fingers trembled, uncovering a medium-sized square jewelry box. You took a deep breath, girding yourself before you opened it. Inside was a delicate silver chain with a pendant that spelled AB in elegant script. It took a moment for your brain to catch up, looking up at him as your confusion gave way to dawning horror. 

“I want everyone to know who you belong to,” he said, so softly, so sweetly. It was almost like he hadn’t just given you his brand. “Now is when you say thank you, sweetheart.” His tone was still gentle, but his eyes had started to take on that hard glint you were so terrified of.

“Thank you, Andy,” you whispered. 

He smiled, his eyes softening again. “You’re so welcome, honey. Now, turn around so I can put it on you,” he said as he took the box from you. You did as you were told and turned to face the other way. He draped the necklace across your chest and fastened it behind you. His hands ghosted over the back of your neck and you suppressed a shiver. “There. Turn back around now.” You did and he gave you an appraising look. “Smile pretty for me, baby.”

You gave what you were sure was a strained, brittle smile, but he still hummed in satisfaction. 

“Absolutely gorgeous.” His hand moved up to brush your cheek and you couldn’t help but flinch away from him. You regretted it immediately, but no matter what you told yourself, how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop your body from being afraid of his touch. 

He sighed, exasperated, and turned away from you. “I don’t understand why you insist on treating me like the bad guy,” he said, dejected.

Because you are the bad guy, you thought to yourself, but you were smart enough this time to not say it. You’d finally learned that lesson. “I’m sorry,” you said, reaching for his hand, but he pulled away.

“If you were sorry, you’d stop being so ungrateful! No one else is gonna take care of you like I do.”

 You nodded quickly. You needed to placate him and do it now. “I know! You take such good care of me. I know that.”

He stood up and turned on you with his hands on his hips. “Do you know that? Because you don’t show it. It’s not how you act. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

The way he loomed over you made you want to cower, but you did your best to control your body. That would only make things worse. You had no idea how to respond. Another apology would only make him more angry.

He looked at you expectantly, but at your silence, he just sighed again, running a hand over his beard. “Maybe we need to continue this conversation downstairs.”

You sprang up at that and threw yourself at his feet. Not that. Anything but that. “Please, no, I’m sorry, I’ll be better. Please, no. We don’t need to go downstairs.”

He bent over to grab your arms and lift you off your knees. “That’s good,” he said softly, back to being gentle with you. “I don’t want to go down there, either. You know I don’t. I just want you to be good for me. Don’t you want this Christmas to be better than Thanksgiving?” It took everything in you not to grimace. You still felt the marks from what he’d done to you after Thanksgiving dinner. At the memory, you couldn’t help but go weak in his arms, letting him hold you, taking any comfort you could get. “I just want to have a perfect Christmas with you, sweetheart, show you how much I love you. I need you to stop resisting it.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words falling out of you, too scared to think of anything else. You blinked back your tears, not wanting to ruin your mascara or get his dress shirt wet. He wouldn’t take kindly to being late to the party after all this.

He rubbed a gentle hand down your back. “Shhh,” he cooed. “You’re ok, you’re fine.” After another moment, he pulled away from you, looking you up and down. “Now,” he said, “take a deep breath and get yourself together. We’re going to go to the party and have a nice time, aren’t we?” You nodded, hurriedly. “Then when we get home, you can show me exactly how sorry you are, how grateful you are. Good?”

“Yes, Andy,” you said, quietly. You couldn’t make your voice get any louder. 

He stepped back into your space and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. He kissed you slowly, languidly. You let him. You had to. You matched his movements with your lips as much as you could, but he never cared too much how passionate the kiss was on your end as long as you didn’t resist him. As long as he was in control. He pulled back and stroked his thumb down your cheek. This time you didn’t flinch away. “That’s right. There’s my good girl. Come on, go touch up your lipstick. We don’t want to be late.”  

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Week 207-208

A/N: This is the end of year four reading list. Year five starts this weekend 😊

Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 30 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE.

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Making Memories - (Billy R. x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Evermore - Part 2 Chp 3 - (Ari x Reader, Andy x Reader) - @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Finding Home (8) - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Indecent Proposal - (5) - (Stucky x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet - Chp 9 - (Curtis x Honey) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

To-Do List - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Bucky Barnes drabble - @thezombieprostitute

it'll be okay - (Bucky x Reader) - @buckysburdens

Give Up - (Bucky x Reader) - @buckets-and-trees

all i want - (Andy x Reader) - @nickfowlerrr

Poison - (Steve x Reader, Reader x Brock) - @nekoannie-chan

Worship - (Andy x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Another bad date - (Jake x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Memories - (Bucky x Reader) - @mostly-marvel-musings

Drabble Roulette: You get what you give - (Andy Barber) - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Your Mark On Me - Part 12 - (Steve x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Fragile: Questions - (Steve x Reader) - @syntheticavenger

just between us - (Bucky x Reader) - @mellowsaturns

Pregnancy - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

You're a Firework - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Change of View - (Sam x Black Fem!Reader) - @awesomerextyphoon

Convention - (Steve) - @nekoannie-chan

TOL - Swaying - (Ari x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Wrecked (Part 7) - (Billy x Reader) - @tuiccim

Ensnared - (Cole x Reader) - @labella420

Trust Me, I Can Handle Me a Dangerous Man… - (Mr Freezy x Reader) - @the-iceni-bitch

I Hate It When You're Drunk - Chp 1 - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

DIY - (Bucky x Reader) - @mostly-marvel-musings

Space mission - (Steve, Nebula) - @nekoannie-chan

Some help - (Steve, Jarvis) - @nekoannie-chan

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Infinite Solutions - 1

PAIRINGS: Law!Professor!Andy Barber x Math!Professor!Reader

SUMMARY: MIT is famously known for its high level of education. What happens if it's not only filled with knowledge? What if it is also filled with confusion? Confusion of a new, hard-working Mathematics professor? A professor who might be falling in love with her fellow co-worker? What if that co-worker was in the Law faculty? What if that Law professor is Andrew "Andy" Barber?

WARNINGS: Swearing (if you squint).

WORD COUNT: 1,905

ENJOY!

"Shit!" You feel the puddle soak your new, expensive black slacks. Swearing at your recklessness, you ignore the mishap and continue to walk on the cobblestone. The Massachusetts chill is cooler than usual, and that’s why you have your coffee in hand. The sip you take instantly warms and floods your entire being with comfort.

You see students sitting on the lawn with textbooks and papers surrounding them like an iron fence; you lightly smile at the reminder of how you were in their exact position and place when you were in your undergrad.

MIT is filled to the brim with students as they walk to their respective classes. You see the building of your destination, and you trek towards it. The feeling of your wet pant leg sticking to your skin is something that you were not really into, but at this point, you really don’t care. You were going to be late if you pay any more attention to that mistake.

You push open the doors and walk in and make your way to an office you used to frequent back in your young adulthood.

-------

"I must say, that when I got your application, I was quite shocked," Schmidt says from his seat with a light smile on his face. You give him one of your downwards smiles, “I can assure you, Mr. Schmidt, sending my application in was something I thought I never had to do. I mean, it was an arbitrary decision; I wasn’t really thinking about it when I sent it in.”

He laughs at your response before taking a sip from his coffee. "And please, call me Tobias," the German mathematician replies kindly before gathering some papers on his desk and standing, and you follow suit. "Let me show you to your office; I heard it has one of the greatest views," he opens the door and lets you go ahead first.

The halls of the building were old and gave you some sort of idea of how much mathematical knowledge has soaked into its walls over the years. You used to walk these halls all the time, use some of their empty classrooms all alone, and solve the most complex problems on their blackboards.

Now, you’re here walking beside your boss, the Dean. But in a previous life, that was your bachelor's, he was your first-year Multivariable Calculus professor.

The little journey to your new workspace isn’t long, but it consisted of you and Tobias chatting in the first half. “If I may, may I ask what happened over there,” he points at the wet splotch on your pant leg. You shake your head and wave him off, “a long story you do not want to listen to, I assure you.” The rest of the walk is just the two of you recollecting about your time back when you were an undergrad.

“You used to send emails at 3 am,” he says with a throaty chuckle. You widen your eyes as you remember what type of student you were. “Oh dear, I did, didn’t I?” You both share a laugh until he stops in front of a dark oak door.

"Well, here we are," he smiles warmly and unlocks the door with a key before handing it to you. You nod your thanks and follow him inside when he opens the door.

When he mentioned that the view was going to be gorgeous, you thought he was overstating it. But now that you are here, and you are looking out of the window with your eyes. You are stunned.

“And I know how much you love the blackboards, so I recommended them to book this office, specifically, for you,” he states before setting the papers he’s carrying on the, your, desk.

You look at him confused, then see the blackboard attached to the wall opposite your window. God, you think you could die at ease now. Your desk sits in the space between the window and the blackboard.

There are metal drawers at two corners of the room, and lamps situated on top of them illuminating the room in a decent glow. “This—” you scoff shockingly, “this is amazing, it’s literally more than I could ask for.” The 50-something man chuckles and smiles at your reaction. “Welcome to the School of Mathematics, Professor.”

-------

You type furiously at your keyboard, the monitor taking in your input as you type the last of the lecture notes for week 5. Finally, you click on the period.

Sighing, you lean back and stretch your arms. Your back tenses as you finally straighten your posture from the hunched position you were in.

The clock above your door shows that it's half to midnight. You do a few finishing touches to your notes before posting it on the website so the keener few of the students can get their studying done.

At the end of it all, you shut down your desktop and get your stuff packed. Your phone pings as you receive messages from friends and family congratulating you and liking your post on Instagram.

The picture you posted was of the view you had from your desk, and it really was Pinterest-worthy, so you decided why not and post it on social media.

You leave your office and lock it before exiting the building and returning to the Cambridge chilling weather.

-------

You're nervous.

Really, really nervous.

It’s the first day of classes, and students are already starting to file in. You thought there would only be a handful at your 8 AM class, but here you are, seeing that the whole class is full.

The hand on your watch strikes 8 AM, and you look up and see all the different types of students waiting for you to start the class.

Taking in a deep breath, you adjust the microphone that’s clipped on your navy silk blouse and switch it on. Then you rub your hands together before walking to stand in front of the blackboard.

“Morning everyone!” You start with a bright smile on your face. “I’ll be your professor for this unit, for this semester.” You tell the class your name and what title you prefer to be called. “You really don’t have to call me Professor; you can call me by my first name. I’m not that much of a pain in the ass,” the majority of the class chuckles at your swearing.

“Welcome to Multivariable Calculus (ADVANCED),” your grin widens, and you rub your hands down your thighs. “It really isn’t for the faint-hearted,” you state with a slightly serious expression.

“But you can push through if you put in the hard work. Mathematics is a beautiful subject; it’s one of the few technical subjects where you can actually express your creativity and think in so many different ways to come to one answer,” you talk with your hands as you talk about the subject you're most passionate about.

“So, really do not be scared. Just put in the hard work, and if you do feel like you're falling behind, please, please, please contact me or the TAs that are assigned to this unit. We are here to help you with any mathematical problems you have,” you smile reassuringly, and you smile even wider when you see some of the students nod at your words.

“Alright, before we get started, do any of you have any questions about the unit or in general?” you ask before crossing your arms and adjusting the microphone a bit.

A lanky, you assume, first-year student raises his arm immediately after you asked that question. You look at him with a smile. “Yes?”

“Um, you are—” he says your full name in a questioning tone, as though waiting for you to correct him. You furrow your brows a bit but maintain a small smile. “Uh, yeah, that would be me.”

His eyes brighten a bit, and he asks a follow-up question. “You worked for NASA for three years, right? You were the main mathematician that calculated the landing trajectory and coordinates of the latest Mars rover.”

You are speechless; you thought that you’d be able to leave that life of yours behind you. “Uh, yeah, th-that’s true,” you answer with a pursed smile.

“Alright, any other questions?” you pointedly try not to look at the same student, and no one raises their hand. You clap your hands. “Alright, let's get started.”

-------

You look at your watch and see that two hours have gone by quickly. “Alright, I think I must wrap up in a minute. So, just a few late things,” you pause and look back at everyone and face your back to the used blackboard.

“Please do the practice questions; they really are helpful. And if you do have any questions, please either email me or any of the TAs, and we will reply. Just give us at least twenty-four hours to reply,” you smile and cross your arms.

“Ok, I think that’ll be it for today. Have a good one, y’all,” you nod and smile as you see your students start to flood out of the lecture theatre.

A few students line up to ask you a few questions about today's content, and you happily answer them and make sure that your explanations are detailed and clear for them to understand.

Soon, you are packing your stuff and wiping your writings off the blackboard. You switch off all the electronics, then finally the lights, before walking out of the classroom.

-------

It’s the end of the workday; you taught a total of three classes. And for each of them, you were equally enthusiastic about enlightening the minds of everyone present in the room with you.

You do your final routine of closing your office. You are quite happy with how today turned out; a few students took advantage of your office hours and asked you a lot of advanced questions, which tickled your brain in a really fun way.

You finally lock the door of your office and adjust the strap of your messenger bag over your shoulder.

You exit the building and head down the stairs. As you do, you hear someone call out your name.

You stop in your tracks as you sort of recognize the voice. You turn and see a 6’3 man jogging to catch up to you. His hair is the same since you first met him, his beard is much fuller, and his eyes. His eyes have always been the bluest you’ve ever seen.

But he's broader, stronger, and much taller.

“Oh gosh, it really is you, Hey! I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, you look different, but the same,” he chuckles as he pulls you into a hug. You hug him back, but you’re still in shock.

It’s been years since you both have seen the other.

“God, the last time I saw you, you were on TV,” he scoffs and laughs at the same time. “You were wearing the NASA uniform and giving that speech about your work,” he smiles at you so brightly; you think it’s the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen.

When did he get so handsome?

You just nod to whatever he’s saying; you seriously don’t think you can speak right now.

“How are you?” he smiles, gripping harder onto his briefcase as he waits for you to answer. And you smile.

“I’m well, Andy.”

🎀🎀🎀

TAGLIST <3: @sarahdonald87 , @yiiiikesmish , @jamneuromain

Here we are babes, with the first chapter of Infinite Solutions.

Took a while, but we made it. 😌😌😌

Again, if you want to be tagged, please comment so I can keep a list my loves.🤗🤗🤗

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[navybrat817]

Spoils of War

Pairing: Gladiator!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, mention of Dark Advisor!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: Steve gets a reward for a job well done and wishes he could have been with you under different circumstances. Word Count: Over 3k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Noncon references (do NOT read if this upsets you), Dubcon elements (reader consents with Steve), vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, dirty talk, talks of violence, captivity, servitude, dark themes, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Here we go with The Arena! Please heed the warnings with each post for this AU as there will be dark elements throughout. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Steve Rogers believed in doing the right thing. Even as a young boy, he didn't allow his small size to let bullies push him, or others, around. As long as he could get up, he would fight. He carried that idealism throughout his life. It was why he chose to work with S.H.I.E.L.D..

But he no longer fought for the greater good.

The cheers from the arena rang in his ears as he closed his eyes, the water from the showerhead washing the blood and grime away. It wouldn't take away the guilt that ate at his soul. He was meant to save people, not take their lives away. How was he reduced to being a puppet for the demented masses?

One day, he would be free.

Today, he would savor the spoils of war.

"You've done well, Captain Rogers. A prize is long overdue."

Steve dried off moments later and kept a towel around his waist as he waited for you. He didn't have to wait much longer. The cell door opened long enough to shove you inside, anger boiling in his gut when you almost fell to your knees.

"Break her and Barber will kill you," the guard threatened.

Andy Barber. His former colleague. Your master.

"Should I tell him you nearly made her fall on her face or do you want to do that yourself?"

The guard didn't respond, but had the decency to look afraid before he slammed the door and left the two of you alone.

Steve watched as you straightened up and carefully glanced around the room. The cell HYDRA kept him in was comfortable enough. A small bathroom, a nice bed, and a desk so he could draw. Charcoal only, as they didn't allow him to have anything he could use to harm them. They also refused to let him have a cell near Bucky, afraid they would conspire against the guards and break free.

Even if he did have a weapon with him, he wouldn't use it on you.

His prize.

"Would you like to sit down?" he asked, bringing your gaze toward him.

This was the first time he had seen up close since the day everything went to hell. You were still beautiful, but there was sorrow in your eyes that hadn't been there before. The lacy red and black lingerie set did little to cover you, so different from the office clothes he typically saw you in. He wondered if you shivered slightly from the cold or fear.

"Yes. Thank you, Captain," you answered, offering him a small smile as you made your way to the foot of the bed.

You still had the same smile.

"Don't call me that," he said harsher than he intended to. "I'm not your Captain anymore."

He failed as Captain America. HYDRA captured you, Bucky, and countless others because he hadn't taken them down. It seemed like they only referred to him by his title to taunt him. Was he ever worthy of the shield?

Your smile slipped away as you sat down and lowered your gaze. "I'm sorry, sir."

Steve immediately wanted to pull you into his arms and apologize. You weren't in his cell for more than two minutes and he took his frustration out on you. He hadn't meant to.

"You don't need to apologize. I'm sorry for taking that tone with you. Steve or sir are both fine, sweetheart," he said, his towel slipping further down his hips as he walked toward you. "Or would you prefer I call you by your name?"

"You can call me whatever you want."

The words sounded rehearsed.

You looked up at him when his warm hand cradled your jaw, surprising him when you didn't recoil. He wondered what you saw as you looked into his eyes. A murderer? A monster?

"Why did you ask for me?" you asked.

"Because I was told I could have a reward for a job well done," he told you.

You narrowed your eyes. "Why me specifically?"

Rewards were typically in the form of a mistress since fighters couldn't ask for their freedom, or challenge anyone in charge to a battle. Mistresses were usually sent from the harem and not taken directly from one of the advisors or generals. It was only natural that you'd ask why.

"You belong to Andy Barber," he stated to gauge your reaction.

You flinched, your eyes flashing with something akin to offense and fury, but you didn't pull free from Steve's grasp. From what he gathered, you weren't a willing mistress to Andy. You knelt beside him at every match he could remember and never said a word. Advisors and Generals loved to show off their possessions. Requesting you as his prize for doing such a good job in the arena pissed Andy off, but he couldn't deny him.

A pet having power or sway over a master isn't allowed.

But unlike Andy, Steve's intentions weren't to harm or force himself on you.

If he thought for a moment that you were a willing participant in this, your reaction told him otherwise. "I don't belong to anyone."

"I wasn't trying to offend you," he promised, keeping his hand on you as he took a seat beside you. "How does he treat you?"

You hesitated before you answered. "Sometimes he fucks me like he loves me."

He ran a thumb across your cheek when a tear fell from your eye, rage surging through his veins. Even though you didn't bear any physical scars like him and the other fighters, you no doubt had wounds on the inside. Forced into sexual servitude would be enough to hurt the strongest of people. But the flicker of fire in your eyes, you still had some fight in you. It comforted him that they didn't break you.

"Did he do something to you? Is this some sort of payback?" you guessed.

"He did, but I didn't ask for you to get back at him," he said.

He wouldn't have asked for Andy's mistress if it was anyone other than you.

"I don't know why you're asking how he treats me. At the end of the day, I'm just his whore," you said, eying him warily. "And tonight, I'm yours."

He shook his head, bringing his other hand up to cup both cheeks. "You're not a whore."

He wished you could be his girl.

Maybe in another life.

"Then I don't understand why I'm here if you're not going to use me," you said, confusion filling your beautiful eyes. "I'm nobody."

"You worked on the 3rd floor," he said, tracing his finger along your bra strap when you gasped. "You had a cardigan on the back of your chair and the background on your computer matched whatever season we were in. You kept to yourself, but offered a small, kind smile whenever someone looked your way or jumped in to help without anyone asking. You were vital to S.H.I.E.L.D. and you're far from being a nobody."

You moved an inch closer and his gaze fell to your lips. "You knew me?" you asked in disbelief as he nodded. "I-I never thought anyone as high up as you would've noticed me."

"Of course, I did. I was just too stupid to say anything then," he replied, smiling sadly when he wiped another tear away.

Would it have made this situation better? Worse? Dwelling on "what if" would do more harm than good.

“So, you asked for me because you wanted to see me? You care?”

He let out a breath as he nodded. “I had to see for myself that you’re okay. Well, as okay as you can be given the circumstances,” he said.

There were so many things he wanted to say. That he was sorry a man like Andy ever got his hands on you. That he didn’t want you to give up hope. Why wouldn’t the words come out?

"I didn't think anyone cared," you said, lightly tracing a tiny scar on his arm. Something in your expression shifted from uncertainty to seductive as you leaned in closer. "But that shouldn't surprise me. You're a good man."

He placed a hand on your lips to stop you before you kissed him. Yes, he asked for you to be here, but he didn't want you to feel forced to do this. “No, sweetheart. I’m not going to use you.”

The point of his confession, or whatever he could call it, wasn't to make you give in to him. He needed you to know you did mean something to someone. You weren't alone in this.

“Is it using me if I’m offering?” you countered when he lowered his hand, giving you the chance to lean in to pepper his jaw with soft kisses. He didn’t stop you this time. “Unless you don’t want me.”

Steve wanted you. God, he wanted you, but he wouldn’t take from you the way Andy did. Even when you placed a hand on his thigh, your touch light and heavenly, he had to resist. HYDRA reduced him to a killer, he refused to sink any lower.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you said, leaning back and reaching behind you to unhook your bra. He didn’t mean to groan when you took it off, but your breasts on display had his heart pounding against his ribs. Your nipples were hard and he hadn’t even properly touched you. “Like I said, you're a good man.”

Steve’s hands fell to your hips when you straddled him, his cock twitching beneath the towel. Was it wrong to give in if you wanted it? But did you actually want him? Were you acting on instinct? Orders?

“How am I a good man if I’m taking advantage of you?” he tried to argue when you pushed your hips down.

“You aren’t. You're giving me a choice and I'm choosing to give myself to you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want to forget even if it’s just for tonight.”

He wanted to forget, too. He didn’t want to see the blood that stained his shield or the life leaving the eyes of the bodies that fell. What he wouldn’t give to have a beer with Bucky after a mission gone well. Or take you out on a proper date.

“I’m your prize, Steve. So take it.”

The last shred of hesitation inside him snapped when he fastened his lips against yours. You went pliant against him, opening your mouth for him to take what he wanted. It wasn’t how he wanted your first kiss with him to be, but it made him dizzy nonetheless.

He didn’t break the kiss as he rolled you over, spreading you out on your back to slide in between your thighs. He swallowed down the small sound you made before he gave you both a chance to catch your breath. The sight of you gazing up at him made him lose his breath again.

“Please,” you whispered, shuddering as he moved his calloused hands up your legs.

He heard people beg before, but not like this. You would be his salvation. He hoped he could be yours, too.

Torn between kissing up your thighs or diving right in, he decided to dip a hand between your legs. You shivered again as he pressed his palm against the damp, flimsy fabric. “You’re wet,” he said in awe, gripping the underwear and tearing it away.

Your back arched, sending a shiver down his spine when he saw your eyes glaze over with lust. “For you, Steve.”

For him.

The slide of his first finger made him close his eyes. You were tight and warm and the clench around the digit alone was enough to make his cock twitch. He wondered if you ever got this wet for Andy. Did he prep you? Make you come?

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” you whined when he pushed another finger in.

“Are you my prize, sweetheart?” he asked, spreading and sliding his fingers in and out. He brought his other hand up to your breasts, not wanting to neglect them as he toyed with your pussy. "Are you giving yourself to me?"

“Yes,” you said breathlessly when he pinched a hardened bud, your walls tightening more by the time he added a third finger. “I am.”

“Then let me handle you as I see fit,” the slight command that came out was reminiscent of his days of being a Captain, the very thing he told you not to call him.

“Yes, Sir,” you whimpered, arching your back again when he removed his fingers.

He brought them to his mouth and licked each of them clean, savoring the sweet and tangy flavor of you on his tongue. If he was a better man, he’d take more time with you. Worship every inch of you until you sobbed and begged for more. Later, he’d indulge until all he knew was your taste. Your first orgasm though, he wanted on his cock.

He had to be inside you now.

You blinked and smiled as if you sensed his need. “I’m ready.”

Steve gripped the base of his cock as he settled between your legs. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine you were in his home. He refused to do so. This was the reality you were in and he had to make the most of it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, silencing you with a kiss when you opened your mouth.

You gasped as he lined up with your entrance and slowly slid in. He almost stopped halfway through when you clenched hard around him, but his kisses relaxed you enough to let him in. He never felt anything as good as you and was sure he never would again. He was afraid he’d become addicted.

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered back, sending shivers down his spine when you ran your fingers through his beard. “But it’s okay.”

He began to thrust, unable to take the tenderness in your eyes. In another life, he would’ve been worthy of that gaze and comfort. Now it was survival of the fittest.

“I won’t break,” you moaned, allowing him to take your wrists and pin them over your head. “You can fuck me how you need to.”

“What was it you said?” he asked, driving deeper into you to make you moan louder. “He fucks you like he loves you?”

You choked on your breath when you gazed up at him with fear in your eyes. You blinked it away before he could dwell on it. “Sometimes.”

“You haven’t been fucked by me before,” he grunted, taking your leg to wrap around his hip. “When I send him back to you, you’ll be dripping with me. He'll know you'll never truly be his."

A loud moan escaped when his grip on your wrists tightened, your hips rising to meet his thrusts as he fucked into you. It was easier than he thought to forget the horrors when he was buried inside you. What would he have to do to keep you for more than a night?

You squirmed when he slid his hand between your bodies and sought out your bundle of nerves. “You said you don’t belong to anyone, but here with me, you’re mine,” he said, circling your clit with his thumb. The whine he got in response was otherworldly. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you moaned, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

He wanted to believe it.

“Again,” he gritted. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours!”

Your eyes widened when you quivered around him, a gush of wetness flowing around his cock as you cried out. The orgasm seemed to take you by surprise, but he kept up his pace to ride it out. He hoped it would be the first of many. Your face twisted in pleasure was almost enough to send him over the edge.

“Please, Steve,” you moaned brokenly, lying bonelessly beneath him as he buried his face in your neck.

Steve couldn’t resist when you begged so beautifully, letting out a broken sound of his own as he spilled into you. The release had him panting against your skin as finished, trying to remember the last time he experienced ecstasy like that. He desperately tried to hang on, not wanting it to end for either of you.

He pushed himself up to look at you, but didn't pull out, a sense of pride filling him at your fucked out expression. Releasing your wrists, he brought your hands up to wrap around him. He wasn’t expecting to need the comforting touch, but he had to feel your hands on him after what you shared.

Silence stretched on as snuggled close and he thought for a moment that you drifted off when you stayed quiet.

“I don’t want to send you back in the morning,” he admitted, tilting your chin so you'd look at him.

You quietly sniffled as you turned away. “I don’t either, but you have to. Andy is furious enough as it is."

He pulled you in for a hug when you trembled. He wanted to choke the life out of Andy himself. Maybe HYDRA had made him a monster.

“Maybe you can't stay here permanently, but I’ll ask for you again after my next match. I promise.”

He didn’t want you around Andy longer than you had to be.

“So, we meet up after your fights and allow ourselves to keep forgetting? You go back into the fight and I go back to the Advisor quarters?” you asked, your eyes shining as he let you rest against the mattress.

He tilted his head as he studied your face. The blissful expression had determination underneath. Both of you wanted to get out of here, like everyone else. With your position, maybe you could use it to your, and his, advantage.

“I’m a fighter. You’re the mistress of an advisor. I’m sure we can forget and find other uses for our time together,” he said carefully, in case he was reading you incorrectly. “What do you say?”

The smile you gave him was hopeful. “I'm in."

Oh, you don't think it'll be that easy, do you? Not if Andy has his way. 😏 Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[jamneuromain]

No Use Running

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: NON-CON/DUB-CON, Dark Content, Smut, Angst and Smut, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Clit Stimulation, Pet Names (Angel), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Overstimulation, Angst, Angst With A Happy Ending, Dark!Andy Barber, sex toys, vibrator, bondage element

Word count: ~4k

Summary: What are you going to do when Andy is mad at you?

A/N: Big shout out to vera @rogerswifesblog and her amazing moodboard, both help me tremendously with the conversation in bold, also help me spiral a thought into a 4k smut. Fair warning, lots of angst, which surprises me, really, because I was mostly thinking of the smut when talking to vera (sorry not sorry XD).

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

A year into your relationship, Andy has only one rule for you.

One rule, and one rule only.

Don’t get drunk when you are partying with your friends. If you are partying, tell him beforehand in case he gets worried about you not coming home.

Just this one rule. Don’t get drunk, call him first.

Simple as that.

In your defense… face it, you have no defense. You screwed up. Big time.

You were so excited about the little getaway your friends planned (and told you about it the minute your last class of the semester ended “we’re partying tonight guuuuuuurl”) that you completely forgot about the rule of “calling Andy”, and happily got yourself more than tipsy.

“More than tipsy”. That’s an understatement. Your very last memory about the night was you doing shots with your friends. You find yourself in the shared home of you and Andy in the next morning, lying comfortably in bed with a minor migraine and fresh PJs, trying to remember what had happened.

Tipsy? You were wasted.

Knowing Andy? If he was home last night, he’d be so mad.

You search for your phone around your pillow, finally locating it on the other side of the bed, linked to the charger.

Your gut sinks to the bottom of your stomach. You’d charge your phone on your side. Your phone is now on Andy’s side.

Oh no.

Oh nonononono.

This is bad.

This is very bad.

This is Godzilla versus King Kong bad.

You can honestly hear every ounce of your luck shatters when you turn on your phone and a dozen missed calls from Andy pop up, dating back to last night and this early morning.

Holy fucking shit.

You are doomed.

Andy has already left because he has a full schedule today.

You frown as your phone gone cold. There was no message asking whether you have woken up. No sticky notes on your forehead as usual if you are sleeping late, telling you that he left a sandwich for you in the fridge. No nothing.

He’s really mad.

You frown more when you find excessive food in the fridge. Some leftover beef stew, chicken kabab, and a whole lemon cheesecake. That’s strange. Andy’s not the type to cook excessively.

And no sandwich.

You make yourself some food to eat and clean the house for a bit.

Your memory pieces some fragments together. You remember stumbling into Andy on the porch. You remember dancing in the club, raising your shot glass, and giggling with your friends.

Your memory is still incoherent and you don’t know what happened exactly.

You vacuum the living room, read for your upcoming assignment, and finally, you decide to cook dinner to show that you are sorry.

Leaping up when you hear his car pull up in the front, rushing to the door to welcome him home: “Hey Andy. How’s your day?”

Andy has a large box under his arm, which you pipe up to help him carry it and put it anywhere he wants.

“Just an average day.” He pecks you on your lips, insisting he carries this on his own. You are nervous as hell when he doesn’t smile, not even after kissing you.

You peek at the box, can’t help but ask as you see the black tape circling the cardboard box: “Amazon? What did you buy?”

“Nothing important.” He shrugs, heading up the stairs with the big box.

Maybe he’s not that mad?

You cross your fingers, hoping that everything works out with luck on your side.

Dinner is as uneventful. However, you can feel that he is distracted and uncharacteristically quiet. Andy used to say what he doesn’t want or what he doesn’t like. He’s vocal about your relationship, but this new Andy is so lukewarm that it is scary to you.

You choose to cuddle on the couch after dinner, playing a Netflix show as background noise on TV.

“I’m sorry about last night, Andy. I should’ve called you. I’m sorry.” You loop his arm around your shoulders, looking up at him apologetically, “and I shouldn’t get caught up partying either. I wouldn’t do that ever after.”

Something flickers in his eyes that you cannot catch. In the end, he says nothing, only tightening his grip on your arm, leaning for a kiss.

You rather wish he spanked you or edge you, just like what he did with your previous few wrong-doings. It wasn’t fun but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. You’d rather have him cuddling you after rough sex than to have him ... distant?

You deserve it, to be honest, you know he’d be angry with you.

You only are aware of how angry he is the second you step into the bedroom.

He is fixing the four cuffs tied to the bed, black leather with shiny metal chains. The now-empty Amazon delivery box lies wide open on the floor, giving you the slightest clue of what could have been inside.

Spoiler alert, you didn’t have cuffs in this house. He used to tie you up with his ties.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Andy smiles, for the first time today. He unbuttoned his cuff link and his collar to adjust the length of the metal chains. This normally looks extra hot to you, but knowing what could be waiting for you, you just want to run.

You carefully take a sneaky step back, “umm, Andy, I know you are mad. And I’m so very sorry.” Another step back. “But we can talk this out.” Another step. “Pl-Please don’t be mad?”

Andy rests his hands on his hips, his blue eyes icy cold.

“Sit on the bed, Angel.”

“Andy-” You visibly gulp, tensing all the muscles in your body so that you can dash to the stairs the second he drops down his guard.

“Don’t make me fuckin’ repeat that.” He shoots back at you.

You are going to die on the bed for all you know. You are going to be edged to the brink of your life. A chill runs down your spine, every sense in your body warning you of the menacing danger you are faced with.

“Please, Andy, we can talk this out, I’m begging you.” You plead to him, slowly dragging your feet to the door instead of the bed, “please, Andy.”

Your fight or flight response kicks in the second he prances on you. Of course, you choose to run from him.

You barely make it to the stairs when he grabs your wrist and halts you by your waist, clutching your body so tight like you are a prey struggling for its life. Your heart nearly leaps out of your throat. Your body, although unwillingly, clings to him for dear life, fearing that he slips and drops you on the floor.

“Andy, please! I’m so sorry! I won’t do it again!” You yelp when he throws you onto the bed. You try to sit up when he clasps your ankle with one cuff, you are forced to lie down when he clasps your wrist with another cuff.

“Can’t believe you even tried to run - save it, Angel. You’re in for a long night.” He huffs disapprovingly.

Clasp. Clasp. All your limbs are secured and tied up. He didn’t even bother to take off your nightdress, only pulls your panties to your ankles.

You think it couldn’t be worse.

Oh but it did.

He takes the vibrating wand from the bedside drawer and loosens his belt.

You watch in horror as he fastens his black leather belt around your thighs, squeezing the wand between your legs, where it nestles on your clit.

“Andy-”

“See, Angel, I was planning to hold that wand myself,” he kisses your forehead. The darkness seeps back into his eyes. With a flick of the remote on his phone, the wand buzzes to life. A warm grin on his face, he retreats to the corner of the room, where he sits on a chair and opens his laptop, “too bad I need to work first.”

The vibration is low yet brutal. It triggers your body into moving your hips to avoid it, not that there is much space to move. Without his kisses and skilled fingers working your body, your pleasure builds up high and dry, your skin heats up reluctantly, seeking the attention it deserves.

“Andy-” You choke when your squirming accidentally has the wand brush your clit again, “please, I’m sorry.”

He glances at your frame briefly; his eyes soon return to his laptop. Crispy strokes from the keypad seem to be mocking your fruitless begging.

Your core twists in agony. It doesn’t take much to force an orgasm out of you.

“Pleaaase, Andy, please don’t edge me.” You whisper, moaning when the stimulation to your clit brings a fresh wave of arousal pooling down your pussy. Your channel expects his shaft, but you get nothing. Tide riding higher in your veins, rushing to your core, you are on the verge of cumming any second.

He raises his head from the laptop, a smirk curls his lips when he dials the vibration up a notch.

“Andy-!”

The buzzing grows louder, no longer a soft vibration, but a stronger torture to your clit.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t cum.” He buries himself back into his “work”, his calm voice ghosts your ear, “you can cum as many times as you want. You’ve got all night, Angel.”

Your hips buck into the air, pressing your clit tightly on the wand, drawing the first orgasm out of you. Your body bounces on the bed as the orgasm hits you, doing all it can to run from the incessant stimulation on your clit. You wish you could run, but you are chained to the bed,

“Andy, please.” You cry out, tears rolling down from the corner of your eyes, “I-fuck-I said I’m sorry!”

The loud snap when he shuts his laptop makes you shiver.

“The thing is,” Andy sits perfectly still, he watches you writhing on the bed as the second orgasm builds up, "I don’t think you are." His tone barely contains his anger, “bet you totally forget about what yesterday was, huh?”

“Wha-”

“It was supposed to be our one-year relationship anniversary.”

Your brain stops working altogether.

Oh no. It was.

You started dating around this time last year.

You didn’t think you were doing an anniversary this early. If you are counting from the day you became boyfriend and girlfriend, you are two months away from your anniverisary.

“I cooked for candle-lit dinner and bought roses and shit, and what did you repay me with?” He crosses his arm and scoffs, “no texts. No calls. Get fuckin’ drunk with boys.”

Your mind clears its fog, letting you remember you stumbling into Andy while waving goodbye to Mike (or Michael?), who volunteered to uber you home when you were all getting “tipsy”.

“It’s nothing-He just-oh fuck, he just came along to make sure I got home. I’m sorry.” You whimper, your sentence cut off as you feel arousal leak from your pussy, “I’m really sorry about-ah-what you planned. Please, please stop the wand and we can talk.”

His words drip with sarcasm, “and I’m just a poor old fool who thought I could capture a young girl’s heart.” Andy snorts, “that work out well.”

Even as pleasure gradually clouds your brain, you understood what he said and a pang of pain rips your heart to shreds. If you knew about his plan, no, if you remembered, or thought about your anniversary, it wouldn’t end up with both of you in agony.

This is all your fault.

“No, Andy,” you croak, trying to ignore the buzz between your legs, “don’t say that.” It’s not true. I love you.

Andy doesn’t reply to your pleading, his cold expression molded on his face again, “you asked me to be ‘thoroughly fucked’.”

You did, trying to peel him out of his black T-shirt, trying to have him kiss you, saying tons of things that you utterly regret now.

“You wanted it last night, no? Wish granted.” Andy growls, “now take it.”

He turns up the vibration again.

If the previous vibration was barely endurable, this time it is way beyond what you can handle.

You cum with a scream, tugging the chains with your tied-up legs. The rattling of the chains doesn’t stop when you finish cumming. You jolt and kick, as the buzz is incessant on your clit, and you are on your way to your third orgasm.

“Andy, I’m sorry.” You whimper, “it hurts.”

“I don’t give a shit.” Andy picks up a book on the table, glancing at you one last time before he shuts his mouth and starts reading.

Another orgasm hits. And another. You can’t tell what hurts more, your swollen clit or his indifference. You scream and plead, stammering between moans and words, some of them mumble into one. Your skin is coated by a sheen of sweat. Your body reacts to the wand with overruling pleasure above your mind, having you think of nothing but the sensation from your bundle of nerves. And then it starts to hurt. With every second of the wand between your thighs, your mind cannot decide if it wants more or to get away from the stimulation. Another orgasm punches all the air from your lungs. Your cry is silent, mouth agape, tears roll into streams, your body refuses for you to breathe in, running low in oxygen that your vision has spots.

The stimulation between your legs dials down to a full stop.

You draw in a lung full of air. Coughing as you feel your chest is about to explode.

Your body buzzes. Or your clit still feels the buzz ghosting your legs. Your pussy twitches, quivering as it feels cold, soaked with your arousal. Your chest rises and falls, your heart pounding by your ear, your vision blurry with tears.

You want to curl up to your side. Your body is stressing as if it has just run a marathon.

The tugging from your wrists and ankles reminds you, you can’t.

A pillow is stuffed under your head, helping you to breathe a little.

You blink a few times before you make out it’s Andy sitting by the edge of the bed.

He held your head, bringing a cup to your lips.

You swallow on instinct, nearly choking yourself when you are taking big gulps of water.     

“…?”

His lips open and close, saying something that doesn’t make sense to you.

Or your ears are ringing so that you can’t hear.

“Wha-?”

“Still talking, I see.” He nods nonchalantly, “do you need more water?”

You shake your head.

He takes the cup, standing up to leave.

“Wa-ait!” You tug the chains desperately, trying to get a hold of him, “Sorr-sorry.” You sniff, “can’t. Can’t cum.” You realize how hoarse your voice is when you open your mouth to speak, like someone rubbed it on sandpaper. You feel sorry. You are sorry. You do. You just can’t do this anymore. Even if you are not screaming, your body is screaming bloody murder.

“Shhh, just a little bit more.” Andy coos, turning up the vibration again.

“No. No-!”

Andy watches as you make a mess on your shared bed over and over again. Your mumbling pleas and begs melt into crying and screaming. Arching your hips as your body reflexes, even though it adds to your misery. Your orgasm hits stronger and slower every time, lasting longer, depriving you of your breathing. You lean your head to the side, panting, struggling. Not out of your will, but when your body instructs you to.

Your thighs flex instinctively when he sits down and caress your buzzing thighs, which are still bound together.

“Don’t think about anything.” He bends down to kiss your belly, coated in sweat. His beard scratching your sensitive skin, having your core tensing once again. “Talk to me, Angel.”

Your brain is clouded. Hearing his voice, you mumble something that you don’t recognize yourself.

“Do you want this to stop?” His voice sounds muffled. Blocked. Like speaking, but with cotton in your ears.

But you understand.

“No-No-hmph.”

Your brain mushed. It hurts. You want more. Keep it going. Till the end of time.

Andy chuckles.

He dials the vibration down to a full stop. You, however, cry out again, one word slurring into another, “More. Want-more.”

He turns a deaf ear to your begging, unclasping his belt to reveal your thighs, having the belt digging into them so hard that leaves a red mark on both of them.

You burst into tears when he pulls the wand out between your legs. Your hips bucking for more pain and pleasure.

The wand is wet. From your arousal and your sweat.

Andy drops the wand to the side, unclasping the restraints on your ankles.

“More…” you whimper like a wounded animal, “more, Andy.”

Andy pries your legs open. Red marks from the wand between your thighs. A puddle of creamy arousal underneath you. Your legs shaking, trembling. Your pussy is red, swollen, covered in slick. Your clit puffy, peeking out from your pussy lips.

“More.” You mewl, as if that’s your whole vocabulary, “more.”

Andy kisses the red marks on your thighs gently, “you like that, huh?”

“Yes. More, Andy.”

Tears stain your cheek but you are about to cry again. Anything to have the wand back. To have something stimulate you to orgasm. Anything to stimulate you, burn your body with pleasure.

This is what he’s been waiting for. To overstimulate you until you are truly overwhelmed with pleasure. You will want more pleasure you can take until you pass out. You will agree to anything for it. Most importantly, you will want him again.

He unclasps your wrists too, prying your legs open more to touch your clit.

“Yesyesyes.” You grind your abused pussy to his hand eagerly, whimpering when he draws his hand back.

“My Angel…” He sighs, stripping himself out of his suit and trousers. His thick shaft straining in his boxers when you moaned and cried. He kneels on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs, hovering above you to kiss you, “my beautiful Angel. You’re mine.”

He sheathes himself in entirely at the last word, having you cry out. Having you moan his name. Having you digging your nails into his arm.

Your walls grip him. Sucking him in. Welcoming him with warm wet heat. Your walls crave his cock, craving to be filled to the brim again, craving the stretch and burn as you try to accommodate him.

The pain blends into your pleasure. You can’t tell them apart. His cock brushing your clit on his way out. Your walls convulse. Him slamming back in to rearrange your guts. Your walls clench down. He takes your long-ignored nipples into his mouth, sucking and tugging with his lips. You could only sob because of how good it feels.

You want more. You want him. You want his tip kissing your cervix.

“Say it.” He grits his teeth and spits out, “say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours.” You chant as he knocks the breath out of your lungs, his shaft thrusting deeper, harder.

“That’s right, Angel.” He snaps his hips into you, “you’re fuckin’ mine. I’m the only person who can make you feel this good.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm next to your head.

You stutter his name when you cum, your vision blacks out, everything is slowed down to a halt. You feel a few more thrusts, and his hot spent flood your pussy.

Then you drift to a dreamless sleep.

Your arms hurt. Your legs hurt. Your stomach hurts.

There’s not a fine muscle left on your body.

You curl yourself into a ball, facing the opposite direction of Andy, wincing as you hug your knee.

Your pussy hurts too. Sore and tired from the orgasms ripped out of your body.

Your eyes are dry as if the Sandman blinded you, but you still shed a couple tears onto the pillow. Some of them traveled across your nose bridge and blended into the tears from your other eye.

You can’t believe he overstimulated you. You can’t believe he punished you so hard for disobeying one rule. Most importantly, you can’t believe he had no faith in your relationship. After the class, after the drama with Laurie, after his participation and encouragement in your writing, he means everything to you.

The heartbreak from last night catches up to you, piercing your chest, so painful that you couldn’t breathe.

You open your mouth to ease the pressure of your puffy nose, but the pain just follows your breath like a knife, slashing everywhere it could reach.

You try to cry as subtly and quietly as you can, but your shaking body betrays you, having Andy push himself on his elbow to rub your arm.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.” He whispers softly.

He notices you are not responding, leaning closer to check on you: “Shit.”

He grabs the Kleenex box, places it in front of you, and moves to spoon your naked body, kissing your bare shoulder: “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m such an asshole.” Kiss. “I’m sorry. I pushed too far.” Kiss. “Please don’t cry, Angel.”

“I got too angry over the night before and…” he sighs, “I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”

“How can you say that?” You turn abruptly, staring at him with watery eyes, tears falling from your cheeks. You can almost hear your spine crack for turning so fast, “how can you say that like you mean nothing to me? Like I’m some gold-digging bitch exploiting you?”

“Angel, I-”

“You mean the world to me, Andy.” I love you. “You are everything I write, you are every reason I come home to, you are every piece of my heart.” I love you. “And I…”

Maybe it’s your insecurities. Maybe it’s the unsuccessful marriage of Andy and Laurie. Maybe it’s your stories that you are certain every hero and heroine would be the perfect match for each other, but you can’t be certain in real life.

You would return Andy’s excessive interpretation in class right back to his face. You would challenge him academically in his office. But you suddenly feel your tongue way too heavy to say the simple word, “love”.

Andy hears your silence.

Andy cups your chin, having you look him in the eye.

Andy, as a writer, knows there are a million ways of interpreting this silence, but choose not to.

He chooses to look at your bed hair, your puffy nose, your teary eyes, carving every detail into his memory.

He wipes the tears from your cheek.

“I love you, Andy.”

[chaos-to-my-thoughts]

Thank you so much for the update.

I appreciate your storytelling talent. 😊

Ticking Clock - Nineteen

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Manipulation, heavy angst, abduction, threats, mentions of mental health, pregnancy, extreme gaslighting.

Word Count: 3.7K

I've written this entire fic by just listening to the Defending Jacob soundtrack thus far. We are starting to see some of the past web spinnings coming into play...

gif by @katlarence

Dark! Andy Barber x Fem! Reader

Summary | After your boyfriend is sentenced to prison by Neal Loguidice, you continue to find yourself in the crosshairs of Andy Barber, who is intent on keeping you close under the guise of being a friend in your time of need.

“Mrs. Barber? Is everything okay?”

The school secretary slides a box of tissue toward you, her face full of sympathy. All you can do is nod, plucking a tissue from the box, wiping your eyes quickly while Violet fusses in your arms. It feels foreign to be at the high school, years since you set foot inside your own and now coming to collect Jacob.

He’s your son just as much as Violet is your daughter and you want to make sure he’ll be safe. You know deep down that Andy would never hurt him or Violet but the trauma alone of knowing that he had a hand in Laurie coming to your hospital room is enough for you to want to keep him close to you, not knowing what else Andy could do.

“There’s been a family emergency,” you answer, trying to keep your voice even and calm. “I need to pull Jacob out for the rest of the day.”

“Of course. If you could just sign this form and I’ll have his teacher send him up.”

“Sure,” you answer, picking up a pen as your phone vibrates in your pocket. You don’t have to look at it to know that it’s Andy. He’s been calling you incessantly since you’d left him on the side of the road. 

Time seems to go by slower than normal, soothing Violet with soft whispers, kissing her forehead as she settles down.

Andy had known all along.

Lied to you.

Snippets of memory rush back. The baby shower, the way he’d shook his head when you noticed her car that had been parked outside. How he’d told you that it wasn’t her when you saw her face while she drove down the street.

He’d known that she was inside the hospital, known that you were her target.

It had all been a lie.

You aren’t sure where you can go. High school isn’t the first place Andy will go. He’ll most likely call for an Uber and go home first. Or go to your parents’ house to see if you are there. The latter makes you worry the most, knowing that your mother will try to intervene to make peace.

For Andy and not for you.

“Everything okay?” Jacob asks behind you, whirling around as you wipe your eyes.

“I…”

“What’s wrong? Is it Dad?”

“No,” you answer quickly, hating that you have to lie to him. You don’t want him to turn against you. He can’t. Not now, not when you need to keep him safe. “He’s alright. Let’s get out of the car, okay? I’ll explain more when we get outside.”

“Okay,” he answers, walking beside you while Violet is asleep, her head on your shoulder.

Once you’re out of earshot, you head for the car, opening the doors with a click of the key fob, Jacob climbing into the backseat while you settle Violet into her car seat, her little face scrunching up with displeasure at being moved. Once she’s buckled in, you get inside, looking at Jacob through the rearview mirror before turning around to look at him, watching him tickle under her chin as she breaks into a gummy smile.

“Jacob,” you start, tears filling your eyes. “I have to take Violet away, okay? Your father is fine, I promise but I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I need to go. I can drop you off at home or you can come with me. It’s your choice. You do anything you don’t want to do.”

“What do you mean? Did Dad… did he do something?”

You break, tears slipping down your cheeks as you sob, covering your mouth while Jacob leans forward, his hand taking yours.

“I’ll stay with you and Violet.”

“Jacob, you have to understand that I have to lay low for a little. I need a breather.”

“I know. He’s been intense. We can all lay low. I can help with Violet.”

He settles back in his seat, watching her sleep before he looks back at you.

“Do what you need to do.”

-

“Andy.”

Your father listens closely to the hushed voices on the other end.

“Good afternoon,” Andy greets him, his voice light. “She didn’t happen to stop by your house did she?”

“No,” your father answers. “Why? Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine. She’s been mentioning that she misses you and I was going to have you over for dinner but she’s not answering her phone so I know that she sometimes likes to surprise you with a visit.”

“You don’t know where my daughter is.”

“I have a good idea of it. But I wouldn’t step foot inside. I warned you about talking to her, filling her head with all sorts of crazy things. She’s not herself.”

“She hasn’t been herself since she met you.”

“What did you tell her?”

Your father peeks through the blinds, a sleek black car parked by the curb.

“Who did you send?”

“A friend of mine. My wife is a creature of habit. She’s going to go where she can find comfort and it’s not at her mother’s house. It’s with you. So when she gets there, my friend brings her back home, where she belongs. If you intervene, there’s a good chance that he could think you’re trying to intervene with my plan and take action.”

“I’m calling the police.”

“Do that,” Andy urges. “Please. I’m sure the police would love to know why you’ve been silent with this evidence you claim. Not to mention having a fucking private detective on my ass! Did you really think you could get away with that? Stay inside if you know what’s good for you.”

-

“Uncle Curtis?” Jacob asks, the car slowing to a stop as a man stands on the porch. He’s wearing a thick leather jacket, black sunglasses and a baseball cap that sits low on his brow. 

“Jacob, wait,” you whisper. 

“It’s just my uncle. Haven’t seen him in years.”

He presses the button for the window, sticking his head out once it’s fully lowered.

“Uncle Curtis!” he shouts out, waving as Curtis heads down the steps.

He walks with a wager of a man who doesn’t bow to anyone, tapping at your window as you lower it, his tattooed hands leaning on your car door.

“Wasn’t sure you’d be home,” Curtis drawls out, flashing you a smile as he lifts up his sunglasses. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Barber. Andy’s told me so much about you. I’m sorry I missed the wedding. I was having some… marital problems but we’re good now. Came to see if Andy was home but it didn’t look like it.”

“He should be home around five,” Jacob speaks up. “You haven’t seen Violet yet.”

He moves quickly, peering into the backseat by Jacob as Violet babbles, your heart pounding in your chest, his phone vibrating in his pocket.

“Well, look at her. She’s beautiful. I’m sure you’re the best big brother to her,” Curtis affirms to Jacob, who nods proudly.

“I try to be, yeah,” Jacob says with a smile at Violet. “You gonna stay for a while?”

“I was going to wait for your dad to get back but I guess I could. Get to know the new family members.”

“I forgot we needed something at the store,” you murmur, Curtis looking back at you. “We’ll be back.”

Something about this feels wrong. You’ve never met this man in your entire life, never had Andy mention him and as he looks back at Violet again, you see him reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“We’ll be back,” you tell him, going in reverse as Curtis moves his hands off the door. It’s slow, so slow that you don’t want to raise any suspicion or cause Violet to cry.

“See you when you get back,” Curtis says with a slow wave, his smile fading. “I’ll call your dad and let him know I’m here.”

When you finally make it down the street, Jacob sighs.

“He wasn’t going to hurt you. My uncle isn’t like that. He’s a mechanic.”

“I believe you,” you say quietly, still looking in your rearview mirror. “I need to… need to clear my head.”

-

“You make cute kids, man,” Curtis greets Andy when he picks up the phone. “Violet is adorable.”

“Where is she?”

“Can’t tell you. If I was a betting man, she’s going to her safe place. Which isn’t the grocery store, by the way. She’s a terrible liar. I think that’s kinda cute. She’s terrified, Andy. What did you do?”

“It isn’t what I did. It’s what her father did. Piling on lies, making me out to be the bad guy over her ex-boyfriend. He can’t seem to come to terms with the fact she’s got a new family. Her mother understands.”

“No man wants to be second in his daughter’s life,” Curtis reminds him. “You want me to find her? I can, won’t take too long. Jacob’s with her.”

“What?”

“Oh,” Curtis says with a laugh. “New development. He’s with her.”

“She signed him out of school. Shit,” Andy mutters. “I’m on my way.”

The line clicks as Curtis shakes his head, heading back to his car.

-

Your father opens the door, staring right at the man who gets out of his car.

“I’d go back inside if I were you,” the man calls out, flashing a smile. “Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I’m not going to be a prisoner in my own house,” your father shouts back. “You have five minutes to get off my property.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you but it’s on a public street and your property line doesn’t start with the curb. So I think I’ll stay right here. You’re welcome to come and talk to me if you’d like. As you said, it’s your property.”

“You’re one of his lackeys.”

“Lackeys,” the man repeats with a wince. “Hardly. No, Andy calls me for very niche things. If at all. He tends to want to handle his own things in house. But when his house is falling apart, he seeks outside counsel. That’s where I come in.”

“He’s not taking my daughter or granddaughter away from me.”

“He won’t have to if you listen. I know, weird, right? Retired and still having to take orders from someone younger than you. Seems like it never stops.”

The man holds up a finger, answering his phone.

“Fowler.”

“She’s on her way,” Andy tells him. “She’s got both kids. I don’t want him in the house. Take him somewhere.”

“He’s a big dude,” Nick says. “You couldn’t have mentioned that prior?”

“I’ll pay for your effort. Keep him alive and all limbs intact. I don’t care what you do otherwise.”

Nick blows out a breath, reaching for the other gun that is loaded.

“Alright. See you in a few.”

He hangs up, looking over at your father who is coming out of the house.

“Two minutes,” he demands.

“Listen man, I don’t want any trouble. But you’re going down for the count. Lucky for you, I have ibuprofen in the car,” Nick says, shooting the tranquilizer right at your father’s neck. 

He drops to his knees, pulling it out of his neck as he glares at Nick before slumping face down into the grass.

-

Your father’s car is still in the garage, Jacob holding onto Violet while you head down the hallway, calling for him as Violet gets fussy.

“I think she’s hungry,” Jacob calls out.

You can’t stop searching, calling him again before you give up, turning the corner to see Jacob trying to hold a crying Violet before you see the distress on his face, smoothing back his hair.

“She’s alright,” you soothe, heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll show you a trick.”

Violet still fusses in his arms, her little hands balled tight as she cries, the sound echoing in the empty house. You grab a container, filling it with water before sticking it into the microwave, waiting about a minute or two before placing the bottle inside it as Jacob tries to soothe her. You can tell he wants to make her feel better and you don’t want to come between them, Jacob watching you pick up the bottle after a few moments, testing it on your wrist before handing it to him.

“In a pinch. I don’t like to use the microwave because there’s some hot and cold spots,” you murmur, letting him take the bottle as he starts to feed her. She quiets down immediately, a smile on his face as he relaxes.

“There you go, Vi… you were just hungry, huh?” Jacob asks his sister, settling down on the couch while you look around for any sign that your father will be back.

“I’m going to make a phone call, okay? I’ll be down the hall. Two minutes.”

Closing the door behind you and dialing a number, you wait, forgetting to breathe when the line picks up.

“Have you talked to Dad?”

“Well, hello to you too,” your mother remarks. “No, I haven’t seen him. This is a surprise. I thought you forgot you had a mother.”

“I can’t do this right now,” you answer her. “I came by to see him and he’s not here. The car is in the garage and that’s not like him.”

“He likes his walks.”

“His phone keeps going to voicemail.”

“Is there something you’re worried about? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I just wanted to know if you knew where he was.”

“I don’t, sorry. We don’t talk much these days. Don’t always see eye to eye. I can let you know if I hear from him.”

“Fine. Thanks.”

Sinking down on the bed, you hear the sound of a doorbell, Jacob calling out for you as you scramble up from the bed, heading toward the door as the lock scrapes, ease starting to take over until you see Andy.

“Andy,” you murmur, watching him close the door as you spy your father’s keys in his hand. “What are you doing here?”

“He asked me to check on you. Check on my kids,” Andy replies, giving Jacob a smile that he doesn’t return.

“Where is my father?”

Andy pauses, leaning close to your ear so that Jacob can’t hear.

“Safe. For now.”

Andy plucks Violet from Jacob’s arms, cuddling her close as she breaks into a wide smile, grabbing at her father’s face while Jacob looks at you.

“Everything okay?” Jacob asks. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

“We’ll be fine. We just need to talk, don’t we sweetheart?”

“Your Uncle Curtis will be here soon,” Andy informs Jacob, who looks right back at you as you shake your head, not wanting him to say a word. “He told me he wanted to stop by but you were all in a hurry.”

Andy places Violet back into Jacob’s arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he straightens.

“Let’s have a little talk, honey,” Andy instructs you, Jacob watching you.

“Dad, she didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know that, buddy. She’s not in trouble. I just want to apologize, okay?”

“Okay,” Jacob says cautiously, Violet squealing as his attention is turned back to his sister.

-

“That little stunt you pulled was over the top,” Andy tells you, standing in front of the door. “Emotional response. I get it. Especially since you’re pregnant again.”

Thick tension falls between you, Andy tilting his head to the side as he waits for your answer. You’re silent, mind reeling at how he could have found out already.

“How long were you going to wait to tell me this time, honey?”

Ignoring his question, you fire back with one of your own.

“Where is my father?”

“I asked you a question first,” Andy responds, his eyes narrowing at you. “How long?”

“I’m leaving you,” you whisper, Andy laughing as he shakes his head. “I’m taking Jacob too.”

“That’s cute that you think I’m going to let you take my children away from me. That I’m going to let you walk out of my life. I don’t think so. One word to my contact and your father is finished.”

Your stomach lurches with his words.

“I don’t believe you.”

Andy shakes his head, looking right into your eyes as he pushes himself off the door, taking a step toward you.

“You want to push me?” he asks, taking another step. “Everything you’ve done since Violet has been born is the definition of postpartum depression. Paranoia -”

“I’m not crazy,” you deny, hot tears pricking at your eyes. “You lied to me.”

“Paranoia,” Andy repeats, shaking his head with mock sympathy. “My poor, little wife. So much to deal with. Former boyfriend in jail for murder, spending Christmas alone. Trying to find comfort anywhere you could. I broke up my marriage for you, to keep you safe and make sure you were loved. You gave me my first daughter and we’ve got another baby on the way. But you’re so stressed out, honey. Thinking I’d harm your boyfriend, that I’d hurt you by letting Laurie into your hospital room? Thinking you’d up and leave to take a drive to get an emergency contraceptive only a few months after Violet was born? You can’t sleep at night, you worry about the alarm being on, taking Jacob out of school for no reason…”

He sighs as you shake your head.

“I could have you committed,” Andy continues, your soft gasp making him nod. “Do you want that? You’re pregnant again, they’ll take the baby as soon as you give birth. That will break you. I know it will.”

“Let my father go.”

“Oh, honey. Your mother said you’d be relentless” Andy gives a disappointed sigh. “You want to bargain?”

At your silence, he shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Alright. You come home with me and we forget this ordeal ever happened. I let your father go, you mend things with your mother and we’re back to being a happy family. No more emotional outbursts, no more mentions of being committed.”

“What is my other option?”

“That depends on you. You leave, he disappears for good and I find you, I take our children and you get round the clock care at a nice upstate facility until the baby comes. You won’t see them again.”

“I’m not crazy,” you sob, Andy shaking his head.

“You’re talking like it. What woman in her right mind would just pluck her son out of school, take her infant daughter and think about leaving? You tell people all the time our marriage is solid. I wouldn’t be the unstable one who left.”

You can hear the sound of a door opening, Jacob’s voice down the hall.

“Where’s your dad?” Curtis asks, your eyes wide as you try to open the door, Andy blocking you as he grabs your arms.

“Let me go!”

“Shh,” Andy soothes, guiding you up against the wall, his hand at your mouth.

“You don’t want the kids to hear you, do you? You keep pushing your boundaries and I keep trying to tell you that you’re mine. You always have been. Curtis is taking the kids back to our house and you’re coming back home. We’re going to be a nice, happy family because that’s what we are. Or,” Andy pauses, lifting his hand from your mouth. “I call two people. My contact who has your father and my father.”

“No,” you whisper, trying to push away from him, head spinning as nausea comes in waves. “You can’t.”

“I can,” Andy corrects you. “But that depends on you.”

He holds his hand out for you to take it.

“You only get one choice. What’s it going to be, honey?”

-

Your mother places her purse on her lap, looking around at the empty space. Normally, she wouldn’t set foot in such a place, let alone even entertain the thought.

Time has a way of changing people.

The door squeaks open, her eyes lifting at the sight of the man who gives her a nod, sitting down while they study each other for a moment. When she reaches for the receiver, he does the same, leaning forward to listen to what she has to say. She settles on the scars on his face and hands before finally looking into his eyes.

“Mr. Barber,” she begins, her fingers gripping the receiver tighter. “I wish I was here on better terms.”

“Mr. Barber,” he repeats, moving his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Where did the formalities come from?”

“Do you have any reason to believe that Andy would hurt my daughter?”

Billy scoffs, his forearms on the counter, confusion on his face.

“What happened?”

“She ran away from him. Took my granddaughter.”

Billy pauses for a moment, giving her a smile.

“What did she do?”

Your mother purses her lips for a moment, unsure of how much information she wants to give away.

“Andy said they argued and she left him on the side of the road. He’s going to look for her, Billy. I need to know that my daughter will be unharmed.”

Billy crosses his arms, the receiver cradled between his shoulder and ear, listening intently before he answers her.

“You didn’t come all this way just for her. We’ve been in contact for months, remember? This is different.”

“I want you to answer my question.”

“You’re worried about your little lamb being led to the slaughter, hmm?” Billy laughs, your mother glaring at him. “Or is the ram that you feel will be up next?”

“I want my girls safe.”

“She’ll be fine. Both of them will,” Billy assures her with a nod of his head, pausing for a moment. “But that soon to be ex-husband of yours. Well, that’s a different story.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Andy never did like coming to see his old man. Once to ask for my help with Jacob and another time to show her off. Doesn’t really like the parentals all that much. Seeing as I’m in here and your husband is out there… only a matter of time before he gets in my son’s way. You can’t have it both ways. You’re a woman of God, right? Ever heard of the story of King Solomon and the baby?”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

“He wouldn’t? He’s a family man through and through. Can’t say he gets that from me. Good luck trying to interfere.”

Your mother slams the receiver down, grabbing her purse and leaving the room, dialing your father’s number as it goes straight to voicemail.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Paradise Lost ||

Summary: Two identical twins. You are engaged to one of them. But you always catch yourself staring at the other one. To make it worse, he always stares back. 

Pairing: Brother-in-Law to be Lloyd Hansen | You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Lloyd Hansen. This story contains mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. Please DO NOT REPOST my work in any way and DO NOT USE MY IDEAS WITHOUT PERMISSION, thank you.

Warning(s): Cheating, arranged marriage (engagement), Lloyd being himself, choking, reader being a slut for Lloyd when she is supposed to be Andy's, spanking, degradation, age gap, corruption kink, naive!reader, p-in-v, dom!Lloyd, sub!reader, possible angst, painal, humiliation, fingering, daddy kink, dacryphilia, power imbalance.

Note: I'll admit it right here and now. Lloyd Hansen is my favorite C Evans character and I am convinced we are happily married in one of the universes. As for the fic, I don't exactly know what this is, I just love my mustache King. This isn't exactly what I intended for this story, but I think I like how it turned out. And for what's it worth, I do not condone cheating irl. It's disgusting and unacceptable.

MASTERLIST

Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy brother's wife.

It was tradition in your old money families for the bride and groom-to -be to not meet or speak outside of family gatherings. Like that ever stopped the future couples from meeting up in private anyways. Unless, of course, they had other lovers. 

All in all, it was a front everyone put up to stay out of trouble with their elders. 

You, though, you were different.

The youngest sister of three brothers, you had been raised to be the smartest, most kind girl under strict supervision. Interested in academics and things of the nature that does not worry the guardians of young adults, you had managed to keep your innocence intact all through middle and high school. The first two years of college had not been much different. Your main drive was the validation you received from your achievements. So you loved to indulge in things that helped to improve the mind. And to be fair, you had never really felt the need or urge for companions of the physical sort either. Sure, you saw a handsome man and a pretty woman every now and then but none of them had ever been able to make you so infatuated that you would be compelled to look again. And then keep on doing so.

Until…

It happened.

And it happened all wrong. 

Since you attended college in another state (the most prestigious one for the field you had chosen for yourself), you were visiting your family for the weekend. You had been snacking and watching a sports match with two of your brothers when your parents and oldest brother arrived from one of the many lunches they attended every now and then.

It had not been forced upon you. 

Your reaction had been rather neutral because you couldn't really care less. 

A marriage proposal for you from the Barber family was nothing short of an accessory for you and an opportunity for your family. 

It was not something you necessarily needed. But you could not see any harm in it either. 

Because, your parents had never chosen anything wrong for you so if they said Andy Barber was one of the best, most eligible bachelors for their precious daughter, you believed them. 

Besides, you knew you would be hopeless if you were to go out looking on your own. 

You could not be bothered with something like that when you had so many other exciting things to learn and try in school everyday. 

The man in the picture your mother showed you looked nice with a small smile on his handsome bearded face. 

You were one of those people who believed that a person made their paradise and hell themselves. 

So you agreed. The engagement happened. Andy was a nice guy. He was intelligent, educated, charitable (you had done a brief Google search) and confident in the things he said. Quite posh and very eloquent. You had zero experience in these matters but you decided that your parents had been right. He would make a good husband. And you could always meet him halfway. 

Mrs. Barber, though, seemed quite dejected and was most regretful to inform you that her younger son, Andy's identical twin and junior by an hour, could not attend the function because he was busy with some business matters in some other continent. Your fiance, though, did not seem much bothered by the absence of his only sibling at such an important event of his life. You were not the type to waste your time prying in matters obviously meant to be kept away from you and you quite frankly did not care. So you naturally forgot about this twin and held Andy's hand in your free one as he introduced you to so many people that your brain stopped trying to process them at one point, causing you to blank out.  

The next time you met your fiance was at your house a couple weeks after your engagement when you had returned home for semester break.

That day, you met someone else too. Someone who looked exactly like Andy. But was in stark contrast to him in every other way. The younger brother was like fire is to ice. A polar opposite.

Lloyd. 

Forthright, blunt, straight forward, smart, quick witted, arrogant and so fucking attractive. You were confused as you had never expected yourself to be into the kind of man that he was. But here you were, frozen and awestruck as you stared on for who knew how long. 

You had still been rubbing the sleep from your eyes when you had walked into the dining room in a simple and comfortable sundress, half of your hair being held back by a small claw clip as you dragged your drowsy feet to the table. 

Yes, you had been informed that your future in-laws were over but you had never been the type to get too self conscious. You felt as comfortable in your natural state than you did with all the glam in the world. And you were sure Andy did not mind. He was not the entitled rich asshole type. 

But as his twin brother who was exactly the above mentioned type eyed you further and further down your body, your cheeks heated up and a foreign feeling washed over you. For the first time in your whole life, you felt frantic and self conscious. The need to check if you looked decent hammered its way in your brain. 

The disappearing frown on his formerly annoyed face indicated that he had been as bothered by having to be here so early in the morning as you were. Because… come on. You respected your fiance and his parents but you had had a tough exam season. After getting home just last night you really were not looking forward to socializing with anyone let alone your future in-laws so early in the morning! 

Unbeknownst to you, your own scowl was melting as fast as his. You could feel your families speaking around you. You knew what those words meant. You understood the language. But you were unable to process and understand anything. You found one of your hands gripping the edge of a dining table chair. Your fingers clasped around the wood.

Your own eyes started to roam free. His shoulders flowed away and down his neck like a waterfall, thick arms that were bulging against the polo shirt he wore connecting to them flawlessly. You could see the glint of a shiny neck piece inside the collar of his shirt, shifting whenever he did. Fur ran down his elbows and onto his big manly hands, another piece of jewelry; an insignia ring, gleaming in one of his pinky fingers. His eyes were clever and diligent, coloured in the most dangerous shade of dark blue. Nose that was tall and pointed above his mustache took your mind to an unknown place. He was tall when he stood up. With a friendly smile that had a strange tinge of darkness to it, the man stretched out a hand for you to shake. An expensive wrist watch adorned the wrist he pushed in the pocket of his dress pants as he did so.

"Lloyd" so your hearing and ability to decipher sounds was functional, after all. "I must say…" His eyes roamed over your form again. "It is very nice to finally meet you" a shaky whimper left you when your body went auto mode and you reached for his hand with your smaller one, the grazing of your finger tips causing a spark to burst within the joints of your fingers and bolting down to your wrist. 

"H- Hello, Lloyd. I am Y/n…" You did your best to gulp down the bile in your throat, shaking his hand softly. "H- How do you do?" Really? You winced. Smooth, Y/n. Even Lloyd is trying to fight back the smirk threatening to spread across his face.

God. 

His face was very similar to Andy's. 

Yet he looked completely different–

Wait. 

Andy. 

As though someone had suddenly splashed icy water on your face, you jerked your hand away from his, blinking and frantically looking away to locate him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Even Lloyd seemed a bit taken aback by your silent outburst. 

Your mother had always had a way of reading you and sensing if something was wrong. So she spoke up as if on cue, cutting Mrs. Barber's continuous praise of Lloyd because she seemed to be the only person in the Barber family who was genuinely fond of him. 

Maybe too fond. 

"Sweetie, why don't you take a seat over there with Andy?" You could only nod, cheeks burning hot as you scramble to your fiance. The smile he passed you went unnoticed by you as you were too busy struggling with pulling out a chair for yourself and then sitting down on it without messing up, only now realizing just how hard your heart was hammering inside your chest.

"You alright, hon?" Even though his voice was barely above a whisper, you jump a little, overstimulated and hypersensitive. You could not pinpoint what was wrong with you. This had never happened to you before. So much excitement and shyness and… embarrassment was coursing through your veins. "Your face is all red…" You turned to look at him. His voice is not as deep as Lloyd's– fuck. 

Okay. 

Time out.

You whimpered again and clenched your eyes shut to cancel it all out. What the hell is wrong with you?! You screamed inside your head. "F- Fine… erm…" You cleared your throat before slowly looking back up at him. His gentle smile tightened the knots in your chest even more as a feeling of guilt washed over you. You should not be having these kinds of feelings towards his brother. "J- Just a… a lot of attention all of a sudden, you know?" Andy snickered and nodded understandingly, reaching for a jug of juice before pouting you some. 

"I know. I am sorry. I tried to stop my mother but Lloyd was in town and she couldn't wait to introduce you to the prized son." Your fiance's bigger form leaned towards you as he looked at the glass he was pouring the beverage into. 

"That's fine~" you lied out of courtesy. A frown made its way on your face because Lloyd was still very much staring at you and your… 

Andy had never looked at you like that. Being the gentleman that he was, he always looked you in the eyes when he spoke to you. His compliments were always decent and respectful. The most he had touched you up until now was holding your hand and placing his hand on your upper back to guide you.  

Yet. The stomach churning gaze of his brother has an unfamiliar kind of excitement thrumming through you. And though you placed your head on Andy's shoulder to try and shake all these thoughts away, you found your gaze traveling back to the overconfident man at the opposite side of the table. Whatever. You thought as you sipped on your juice. It's still pretty early in the morning, that's all. 

But alas! 

It wasn't because of how early or sudden it was, after all. 

Instead, it was every glance, every interaction, every conversation, every accidental touch and every whimper that left you and was heard by him. 

Leading to more and more. 

Piling on and on. 

Pushing inch by inch. 

Until Lloyd had you cornered in his parents' mansion during a grand dinner his mother hosted as compensation for his absence during your engagement. As the events of that night along with how she treated him transpired, you realized it was all about him. 

Not the couple getting married and not Andy, the groom, being unable to attend it as he was on a brief business trip. Not Mr. Barber having a fever. Not you having to cancel a plan to attend this thing instead.

To her, Lloyd had to leave again tomorrow and that's all that mattered. 

For Mrs. Barber, it seemed that she thought that the world was for Lloyd to take. 

Maybe that was why he felt entitled to something else much forbidden and already taken too. 

You. 

Andy's unsuspecting fiance innocently surveying his childhood room alone as he was away. Tracing your finger along the many bookshelves and trophies coupled with all the other boyish stuff. 

And just maybe, you weren't much different from Mrs. Barber. As when Lloyd quietly approached you from behind, you saw his reflection on the flat screen in front of you but said nothing. When he made a lewd joke, you giggled shyly. When he closed the distance between you two, you remained in your spot with your back turned to him. Inviting. Awaiting. Imagination running wild. You said nothing when he felt his way up your hand and along your arm, squeezing your shoulder when you stiffened. You said nothing when he told you to relax and you said nothing when he turned you around to press you against the bookshelf where a photo frame of the twins stood staring at the sin unfolding.

Instead, you whimpered when Lloyd said that he knew that you wanted him too. You moaned when he pressed hot kisses to your neck. You threw your head back and pulled him closer when he sucked at the sensitive skin. You requested more when his hand began stroking and groping your very private spots. You put all that you had looked up on the sites you had never visited before after seeing him for the first time; everything vile and filthy that you had never been interested in before. 

You said nothing, but you did everything you shouldn't have. 

The guilt lingered and pressed down at your chest only until Lloyd creeped one of his warm manly hands up your dress and squeezed your ass. The skin to skin contact made your knees buckle and the man chuckled, hooking an arm around your form to keep you from falling. All too soon, you were putty in his hands.

To play with and mold however he desired. 

It had to be all about Lloyd. And much like his mother, you couldn't help it. There was just something about him. Something so irresistible, something so enticing. 

A phenomenon so foreign to, yet alluring and thrilling. 

You let him strip you next to the picture of the man you were supposed to be loyal to. You let him touch you where no one except for said man should have. You let him feel you. You let him, practically a stranger, manhandle you when your own man treated you like the most fragile thing with the utmost respect. Instead, you thanked Lloyd for it, begged for it, writhed for it as he fucked you into the bed of the man you were supposed to be chaste for. 

"Dirty slut. Loves to be fucked in her fiance's bed by his brother" you giggled and pushed at his chest, blushing under his playful smirk. The worst part was that the guilt didn't return until after you had orgasmed and made out with him in his arms.

Though it wasn't strong enough to keep you from melting into his arms the next time you two met. You had been meaning to go for a jog when you bumped into Lloyd outside your apartment building. Instead of being concerned about how he just coincidentally bumped into you exactly outside your building, you blushed instead. He had remembered you attended college here and sought you out even though he was in town for business. 

That had to mean something. 

Were you really to blame though?

You were only human, after all. 

"Lloyd?"

"Hmmm… yes, bunny?" 

"This is… wrong." You stared at the ceiling, one hand above your head as you held your headboard for support, the other hand buried in his hair. 

The man moaned against your cunt as he peeked up at you through his lashes, one finger buried deep inside you as he swiped his tongue across your clit. Your back curled outwards as a moan exploded in your throat, fingers tugging at his hair. Fuck, you loved how his mustache felt against your skin. 

"Wouldn't feel so good if it were~" you shut your eyes tight as a whimper tumbled past your lips this time around. Fuck. He wasn't wrong. This felt good.

Really fucking good.

"But Andy- OW!" You squeaked when he abruptly pulled his finger out to land a heavy slap on your exposed and sensitive cunt, an offended expression on his face. "Lloyd!" You panted for air, naked chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Is he the one eating your dirty little cunt?!" His demanding tone made you whimper. "Well?! Is he?!" When you continued to pout, another spank landed on your pussy.

"N- No!" The loss of stimulation had you clenching around air. 

"Then I better not hear his name" you tried to reason and explain but Lloyd beat you by pushing two fingers up your glistening entrance this time, making you moan and instead spread your legs further apart. "Or this will not end well for you." Though it wasn't on that day that he followed through with that threat but a few weeks later, it was your justification for pushing the guilt you felt towards Andy as far away in your mind as possible. 

The day he actually did what he had threatened you with, though, was when your family got invited to a golf Sunday by the Barbers. Lloyd had always had a natural dominance over you. But that day was when he set the power imbalance into stone. You said nothing because you weren't complaining. 

You had explored so much of yourself with him. Maybe it was the adventurer in you. But you loved every play time and all the games. He was too good. 

You wore white sneakers, a silk baby pink skort and a greyish-purple full sleeved shirt tucked into it. Your hair was half up with a pink ribbon in it, a white sports cap clasped around your head. 

Andy had smiled at you as always, complimenting your appearance before pressing a kiss to your cheek. You didn't know it. But Lloyd was not a family gatherings person. But he now made an active effort whenever it was one with yours. Andy wasn't dumb. 

You smiled as Mrs. Barber went off on a tangent being her extroverted self -something you were sure Lloyd got from her-, leaning into Andy subconsciously when he wrapped an arm around you and curled his fingers over your shoulder.

You had not expected Lloyd to be the jealous type. Hell, you weren't even sure if you were the only one he was fucking. Or if he was even serious about all the possessive things he grunted while both physical and phone sex with you. 

But you couldn't lie, as ironic as it was coming from someone like you, you liked it when you found out.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, after all.

So when you went back inside the golf club building to use the bathroom, instead of feeling guilty for moaning due to his touch while your family and fiance were right outside, you blushed when he taunted you about the act of affection with Andy. 

"Tell me, doll. Do you like being shared, huh? Is that what you are into? One brother isn't enough for you? You're just so slutty that you want us both?!" You felt glad and hot. "Wanna give us identical children?" 

Lloyd pulled your head back by your hair as he made you look outside and at your families– Andy, through the small changing room windows. You moaned when he spanked your ass in a punishing manner and your hole clenched around air, face scrunched up with pain when he fucked into your unprepared ass, making sure to leave bruises with each hit his hand landed on your trembling ass cheeks. 

Lloyd made you apologize even though he had no right to an apology. He made you promise him that you were only his with each thrust and insult. You dry orgasmed as you were ordered to degrade yourself for being such a dumb little cock hungry whore for Daddy. Then you eagerly got down on your knees and let him fuck your throat until he came all over your face before taking a picture. Then he proceeded to record a video where you explained, on your knees, in your disheveled state and nakedness, just what had happened and how sorry you were. You looked into the camera as you thanked him for making you his good girl again. 

How could you not ache day and night for someone like that? 

He did you so good.

Or maybe, this really was Lloyd's world and you were all just living in it. 

You didn't really care for the reason anymore. 

Not really. 

He was a man of instinct. Always fully comfortable and aware of what he wanted. And he took it without regret or remorse regardless of the cost. He was not a man to be tested or played with. 

It was dangerous. 

And oh so thrilling.

The day that changed everything for you and gave direction to what you two became later though was the day he made you cry on his cock for the first time. It was the first time he went full on hard Dom as before that, he had been mostly fun and pleasure.

Yet, it didn't upset you. You only felt special when he moved past the conventional type of sex. We are getting closer. You weren't wrong.

Andy deserved better. And he found that out soon after. 

"Lloyd… please-" you had whispered, body excited and stimulated. Panicked. Your eyes were wide as you tried to be as quiet as possible, hands tightly clasped around the edges of a heavy table placed in the wine room of your family mansion. It was right next to the patio your families were lounging and chatting in after lunch. They had started to discuss wedding arrangements nowadays. Though Andy had assured you that it wouldn't happen until you were ready. Since you still had your school and everything. 

"You're the one making noise" he grunted from behind you as he pushed his girth up your much lubricated and inviting yet tight entrance. I love to fuck you from behind like the cute breeding bitch that you are. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and hand slipped from the blind you had pressed down to peek outside the window next to the table and besides the door. 

"Anyone can come inside. This is dangerous!" You whispered before a moan tried to jump past your mouth. 

He snickered as he pulled you against his chest by clasping a hand around your throat. "You're right… so let me help you out" there was always a catch with him. Your eyes widened when his fingers tightened around your throat. "You talk too much anyways" Lloyd whispered in your ear as his thrusts got rougher, cock pistoning in and out of you, the force causing the bottles and glasses on the heavy table to vibrate.

Your hands tapped against the wooden surface of the piece of furniture when the lack of air got too much and he released your throat just enough for you to heave in as much as you could, free hand dipping into your folds before you could complain. You tensed around him just as fast as you had relaxed.

"Fuck, Daddy!" There was no way they couldn't hear you outside. His huge cock and fat balls made a lot of noise. "Please! We will get caugh-" your voice disappeared when he squeezed your throat again, rubbing your cunt harder. The stress and frustration caused tears to flow freely down your face but the roughness of his actions made you clench around him so hard that it almost hurt. You flailed your arms helplessly, body needing to hold something to withstand the brutal orgasm that exploded through your burning cunt. Your muscles spasmed as you reached back and awkwardly grabbed a hold of his hard shoulder from one side and arm from the other, nails digging into the stiff skin as he nibbled on your jaw.

You couldn't even play innocent. You loved this just as much as he did.

"Shut up and take it, slut" you did take it, the stress and frustration of having to stay quiet along with the back breaking fucking forcing more tears out of you. The lack of air every few moments didn't help. But when Lloyd asked if you wanted him to stop the choking, you shook your head, turning your head to look at him with lust filled eyes, mouth agape. It went on until he came inside you with a curse, having gotten you on birth control long ago.  

"Let's go" you were still panting for air with your body bent over the table when he swatted your ass with the back of his hand. You weakly turned around to see him fully dressed and proper like nothing had happened except for his reddened ears. When you continued to tremble and stare at him dumbly, Lloyd shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"Dumb baby" the older pulled you up to your wobbly feet by your nape before he fixed your messed up dress. "Needs her Daddy to do even the most basic things for her, tsk. So helpless on her own, isn't she?" Your mascara had run down your face but he didn't care. He needed it for what he was about to do. "Show me your hands" you were still groggy from your passionate episode so you obeyed without question. 

Lloyd didn't like many of those anyways.

"Wait– what–" the man pulled your engagement ring off before pushing his insignia one in its former spot instead. "Dadd-"

"Wasn't gonna do this just yet like this but that pretentious fucker has gone so far that he deserves it" he whispered vehemently as you blinked up at him in confusion. Your fucked out brain could not remember that Andy had kissed you on the corner of your mouth today instead of the usual cheek.

"What– wait!" Your eyes widened when he pulled you along after pecking your lips. "What are you doing–"

"Who doesn't like a mouthy girl?" Lloyd stopped right next to the door before looking down at you in annoyance. 

You whimpered at the tone. "Y- You, Daddy…" 

"And who is my girl?" As always, you blushed regardless of how wrong it was. 

"Me, Daddy."

He nodded. "So unless you want to be gagged for the rest of the day, behave." With a condescending pat on your cheek, Lloyd pulled open the heavy door as he walked towards the party with your hand in his. 

Everyone went silent. Frozen and shocked. Your hair was a mess and so was your lipstick, run down mascara drying on your flushed face as you basically hid in Lloyd's side, looking anywhere but at the people in front of you. This could mean only one thing.

This looked like only one thing. 

"'Kay, so!" Only Lloyd could chirp cheerfully in a situation like this. "Nothing much to see here, really. Just a little change of plans– or, should I say… change of grooms?" His playfully dramatic tone made you want the ground to swallow you whole. 

"Andy, catch bro!" The clink that followed made you slowly look in the direction of the man in question. Your engagement ring laid next to his feet on the ground. Your heart sank. "Hm, you never could play good defense after all" Lloyd had the audacity to chuckle after he had tossed the ring in Andy's direction. "See what I did there?" Your heart broke when you finally dare to look up at your fiance– former fiance. You hated how the knowledge brought you a sense of relief deep down. 

Andy's eyes weren't widened like everyone else but betrayal swam in their ocean blue. He was looking directly at you– only you, with an otherwise nonchalant expression. 

A silent question. 

But what did I do wrong?

A bond forever broken. 

You never even said anything. 

A paradise lost.

You were the greatest deceiver of all.

"Okay. We are done here. Let's go, bunny." As Lloyd pulled you away from the party that was finally starting to hum to life, their voices audible but words meaningless to you. 

Andy's face in that moment was branded into your memory forever as you were pulled away. Impossible to be erased or amended. For you never saw him again after that. He was not spoken of in either households or heard from again. 

You didn't forget it when you married Lloyd, you didn't forget it whenever you would look at Mr. Barber because he looked and behaved exactly like his son, you didn't forget it when you gave birth to Lloyd's children and you didn't forget it whenever you would look your oldest son in the face only to gasp because sometimes you'd momentarily forget that your husband, his father, was the identical twin of that man. 

That man you hurt. 

A companion humiliated so viscously.

A loyalty that you had been undeserving of.

A testimony to your selfishness.

But it was the 'what's wrong, mommy?' in that innocent tone of your child, the extroverted nature of him and his two other siblings (up until now), the family you had built at the expense of something so terrible and most unforgivable. Most of all, it was the man that you loved more dearly than anything or anyone you had ever come across, the man that loved your true most decadent self back, the man that held you in his arms and catered to your every need at all times, that you reckoned it was indeed worth losing a paradise over. 

You were ashamed. 

But you were not repentant. 

For you knew that you would do it all a hundred times over. 

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Chris Evans Masterlist

Here you will find all of my Chris Evans works, arranged by character and type of work.

Series

Don’t Take My Sunshine Away (possibly on hiatus)

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing) - Lloyd is a minor character.

Challenges

Pretty As A Picture - Explicit - Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader - What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Requests

Power Play: After Hours - Explicit - Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader - What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

A Duke and His Duchess - Explicit - Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader - The night takes a dark turn when you are harassed at the club, but Lloyd comes to your rescue.

Headcanons

Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

What happens when the reader starts dressing to match Lloyd?

Interesting quirk (an ask I submitted to stargazingfangirl18)

Events

Daddy Dearest | Lloyd Hansen + Female Reader + Daddy kink + “Can you feel how much I want you?” + Darkfic (Sweet Treats Events 2024)

One-Shots

Oxytocin - Explicit - Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC - At a New Year’s Eve party, Ransom Drysdale’s life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

One-Shots

Don’t Take Your Eyes Off It - Explicit - Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader - It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Requests

No Good Deeds - Explicit - Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader - Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Events

Do It For Daddy | Jake Jensen + Female Reader + Daddy kink + “I told you, you would eventually start begging.” + Smut (Sweet Treats Events 2024)

One-Shots

Sweet Redemption - Explicit - Dennis Baker x Female!Reader - You move into the neighborhood and meet Dennis Baker, a man in the middle of a divorce. Trying to keep yourself honest, you keep him at a distance. But you’re drawn together after a mishap online. Will it end sweetly or on a sour note?

Headcanons

“Don’t run from me” Dennis x Wifey (facesitting)

Brunch with the family (slice of life)

Late night on the beach with Wifey

Ass worship

Nicknames and height

Panty sniffing?

Running into the ex-wife in the grocery store

Dennis comforting Wifey after a long, stressful day

how Dennis finds out that Wifey is pregnant

Dennis' zodiac sign

Does Dennis' wife like to be spanked during sex?

Is Dennis a horndog?

What are Dennis and Wifey's love languages?

Do Dennis and Wifey share nudes?

Drabbles

Dennis tells you about his and his ex-wife's fight on the day you met

Dennis comforts Wifey after her day doesn't go as planned (slice of life)

Dennis being the most capable father and husband (slice of life)

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

Dennis Baker (DENNIS)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

[buckets-and-trees]

hii i have a request this can be for Ransom or Andy

But imagine y/n and him are in an arranged marriage. y/n is doing everything she can for him to sign the divorce paper for examples smashing his cars, serving overly salty food, cutting his expensive clothes into pieces, disrespecting his workers, and spending his money on the most useful things (but if it ransom spending money at “low class” retail shops only bc I feel like he’ll hate that), etc.

instead of giving her a divorce, he just randomly starts acting like a romantic gentleman until the night ends he punishes her 🙊😈

I have to apologize for taking so long to answer this ask... and forgive me for not using all the inspo you dropped my way, but from the MOMENT I read this, I knew it was going to fuel something very specific for I'm Your Man Andy and his entrapped fiancé reader., and so I still needed to post it as an answer to this to give some credit where it's due. So even though it took months and months to get to here, this is the result.

Title: Don't Look Too Far Characters/Pairings: soft!dark mafia Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After jetting away with Andy for a week, you're back. The reality that this is going to be your life starts to settle in in very unsettling ways. And although Andy's taken so many liberties with you already, he finally crosses a line you didn't know was on the board.

Content/Warnings: violent behavior; spanking as punishment; emotional manipulation; explicit smut: nipple play, cock stroking, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart), implied dacryphilia

Author Note: This is not a stand alone section! You can find the previous parts here.

Author Note 2: I've been sitting on this for a long time, and I'm excited to finally have it here to share with you. Some of you genuinely seem to love this awful Andy, and you'll like this chapter. Some of you kinda like him against your will and I think you'll like this chapter (cough @stargazingfangirl18 cough). Some of you loathe this man, and you might like at least a few things in this chapter (looking at @biteofcherry).

You are glad to get home from your whirlwind trip with Andy.

Everything had been stunning, luxurious, and beyond your wildest dreams in one of the places you’d been longing to go almost your entire life. Even Andy had been nearly wonderful and certainly subjected you to endless spoiling and copious amounts of exquisite sex.

He makes all of this so difficult.

The private jet touches down in the early afternoon, and Andy allows you to avoid him until dinner. One of the things he’d made clear was an expectation from day one was having dinner together. After dinner, he insists on taking you for a ride in his Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante – not his only sports car in the gargantuan garage of his mansion, and not even the only Aston Martin. Though he gave you no choice in whether or not to join him, he doesn’t force conversation, merely lets you enjoy the scenic drive, occasionally holding your hand. Once home, he takes you to bed and gets you to scream out through two orgasms for him before he lets you rest in peace.

The next morning, you awake alone. Andy only invokes a little small talk in the kitchen, lets you know he’ll be taking a few meetings, places a kiss on the top of your head while you eat breakfast at the counter, and then leaves.

It is more room than you have been used to in the mornings, and you don’t question it. You are happy to have the Saturday to yourself.

Three days after Andy so decisively put his engagement ring on your finger, he put a black card in your wallet. Today you will break it in.

You start at a hair salon you have never been able to afford but that had been on the “essential” list of prenuptial rituals for some of the wealthiest brides you’d planned nuptials for. Having the long-standing relationship with the establishment to arrange appointments for your clients meant they were willing to fit you in last minute for the late morning.

You hold yourself back from doing anything drastic. You don’t want to give Andy the satisfaction of driving you to go for a new style. You leave more than a generous tip.

You get lunch at a small sandwich shop – one of your favorites. You choose a table with a view out one of the large windows. It’s nice to be in a familiar place, even with the presence of Shep watching out for the non-existent security threats.

After lunch, you ask Mark to drive you to the plant nursery you love.

You get everything you want, leaving no plant behind if it strikes your fancy. You buy lovely pots for all of them and never look at price tags. When you tap your card for the enormous bill, it’s with a self-satisfied smirk on your face.

Next you go to the nail salon. They are busy, as it’s Saturday afternoon, just as you knew they would be, but they say they can take you in an hour or less, and since you have no demands on your time, you’re more than fine waiting.

As it’s late summer, it really is too warm for the plants to stay in your car, so you insist on sending Mark home with the plants – you know better than to try to convince Shep to go with him. The man has made it clear he will not shirk his duty as the point man for the security Andy has assigned to you. He’s ever present, and you don’t give him a hard time – he’s only doing his job. Shep doesn’t like your suggestion, however, and instead calls someone from the house to come pick up your plants so neither of the men have to leave.

Once your pedicure and manicure are complete, you check your phone while you’re escorted to the SUV. Your mom has sent you a text.

MOM: Call me when you get a chance! I want to hear all about your trip!

You frown as you slide into the backseat.

How did she know?

Since being trapped and installed into the life of the mob boss, you’ve avoided getting together with any of your friends or family, phone calls, and any deep text conversations. It’s self-isolation, nothing mandated from Andy. But what would you tell them about your new circumstance? Forced into an engagement with a charming, handsome man who just happens to be a mobster with control issues you were sure you could never escape from? Not a subject you want to get anywhere close to.

You only hesitate for another moment before you hit the call button and place the phone to your ear as Mark starts your drive home.

“Hello, dear!” your mom’s voice is clear and full of excitement.

“Hi, Mom,” you reply, smiling despite yourself.

Your heart aches for the weeks it’s been since you two last spoke. You missed her voice. You’re close with both of your parents. Your job had kept you incredibly busy over the past five years, but you usually spoke with them at least once a week and made it out to their house in the suburbs once or twice a month.

“I got your text,” you say simply, not sure how else to begin.

“Yes!” she exclaims, her voice full of enthusiasm. “I want to hear everything about your trip! But first, we have to talk about Andy!”

She can’t see it, but your jaw drops. “Andy?”

“He made us promise not to say anything until after lunch today – and I’m sorry, it’s why I haven’t texted or called all week, I wasn’t sure I couldn’t NOT bring him up, but he told us everything! How you met–”

“Well, you know I planned that signature gala for him,” you interject, somehow needing to jump in to clarify that point.

“Of course, yes, but how he was so impressed by you but waited until the event was over before saying anything, how he couldn’t help moving so fast with you. When he reached out earlier this week to set up the lunch with your father and I, he said he wanted us to meet him without you there so that we could thoroughly vet him and judge for ourselves without worrying you, make up our own minds even though he was obviously hoping we would approve since you’re engaged, but he didn’t reveal that detail until today.”

“Oh,” your mind is racing. “Andy always seems to have something up his sleeve.”

She laughs. “I can only imagine! And things certainly developed quickly!”

“Yes…” your voice is thick with hesitancy, and you know you can’t hide it from her.

“But your father and I want you to know that while you don’t need our approval, you have it. We’re surprised, but we approve. He’s so clearly smitten with you, and we know you would never jump into an engagement like this unless you were sure. We trust you.”

You don’t know what to say.

“I would have told you and Dad about the engagement,” you say. You don’t know when you would have. You were still so freshly coming to terms with its reality and ramifications…

Now telling your parents about Andy is yet another thing he has stolen from you.

“We know! We were young once, too! I can only imagine how much that man must have swept you away!” she soothes and exclaims, her voice bright and beaming through the phone.

It makes your chest ache because if this had evolved without Andy’s constant control, it might have been like this, and you would have gushed and been giddy with your mom right now in this moment.

“Why don’t we get lunch tomorrow just the two of us?” you suggest, wanting nothing more than to talk to your mom, but desperately needing to get off the phone so you can regroup, clear your thoughts, and figure out what in the world you are going to be able and willing to tell her.

“I would love that! Where do you want to go?”

You quickly sort out details that you promise to confirm over text, say your goodbyes, and then you end the call. You set the phone on the seat, drop your head back, and shut your eyes, fighting back angry tears. You wouldn’t let them fall down your cheeks.

“Your mom sounds like a lovely woman,” Shep interrupts your thoughts.

The laugh that tumbles out of your mouth is short and underscores how ridiculous all of this is. “She is. She’s not perfect, but she’s the best and has the biggest heart,” you respond with a genuine smile.

“She passed it on to you,” he says, meeting your eyes briefly in the rear-view mirror.

“You two should probably meet her tomorrow,” you offer up.

“We look forward to it,” Mark chimes in.

That’s the end of the exchange, but it dawns on you that while these two men have been assigned to your personal security and transportation, and they’re work for Andy, they have been nothing but professional, and you can see now that while they’re not warm and soft, there is a degree of care from them that has developed or that you’re only now recognizing exists that does seem to go beyond being a paycheck for them. Mark is probably close to your age, and you would guess Shep is eight or ten years older. Both men wear wedding bands on their left hands.

Having to have them assigned to you, you’re grateful it’s these two seemingly good men.

You’re sure there could be much worse.

You’re quiet the rest of the ride home, but your mind doesn’t stop racing.

“Would you like to get out at the front of the house or in the garage, ma’am?” Mark asks as you near the house. He always asks because the house is so large it makes a difference.

The corner of your mouth lifts as you decide, “The garage, please.”

The garage is a drive in basement level on the southeast corner of the house and holds two dozen cars, including the black Range Rover designated for you. You wonder if you’d ever be allowed to drive a car of your own again.

More aware now of the men, you notice there is a degree of ease that settles particularly over Shep now that you’re safe in the house again. You wonder if that’s always been the norm or if there’s a higher threat potential than usual. The shift does clue you into the reality that Andy is involved in more dangerous things than you thought. Instigator or target, you don’t know which he is, but regardless he’s swimming in dangerous waters, and you’re tied to his fate now.

This is your life.

Would you have chosen it?

Would you have?

A month ago, before the gala, you had genuinely been taken with him, even thought of him as you went to bed, alone, a hand on your breast and a toy between your legs and imagined what it would be like to have him there dealing out your pleasure instead. You hadn’t thought any serious interest being reciprocated from even the faintest possibility.

You had been so wrong.

And he’s dealt more pleasure than you had ever experienced.

More pain as well.

He was mindful of your physical limits, even if he rode them mercilessly.

He failed to comprehend the gravity of the rest of the pain he caused.

And today he reached a limit you hadn’t been expecting.

You slide out of the backseat when Shep opens your door, and instead of heading for the staircase in the corner, you move to the south wall of the garage and start opening cabinets. Shep tracks your movements but gives you space.

In the second set, you find Andy’s golf clubs.

Perfect.

You test a few of the drivers, and when you’re satisfied you’ve got the heaviest in your hands, you pull it clean out of the bag and make your way directly to the car you’ve noticed Andy favors most.

His silver Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante.

The very car he drove you around in last night.

You hold nothing back in your swings, cracking the glass with your second hit. The third doesn’t do much more damage, so you move to the metal body, and here’s where you see you will get at least some of your satisfaction, easier to create dents in the metal than breaking the windshield. You do manage to smash one of the windows. Then you round on the next car.

Neither Mark nor Shep move to stop you, but you do see Shep is on the phone briefly.

You guess that you won’t be alone for long, so you move to a third car. Andy arrives as you lay into the fourth car. You look over at him with apprehension, unsure of what his next move will be. He meets your gaze, surveys the damage you’ve done so far, looks back at you, and then takes up position leaning against the Range Rover.

You grit your teeth, then raise the club over your head and bring it down with a battle cry over the hood of the silver Porsche 911 Turbo. A fifth car bears the fire of your rage, and mid-swing on the sixth is when a someone finally grabs the other end of the iron. You scream in fury and turn to face Andy, who’s looming over you, his blue eyes dark, stormy, and his mouth a thin line.

You yank against the club, but his grip is firm. You don’t let go though, still trying to wrest it from his hands, eyes locked on his, and he uses the rod to pull you closer to him, nearly chest to heaving chest (yours, not his).

“That’s enough, sweetheart.” His fingers work yours away from the metal rod, and he clasps one of your hands in his to keep you close while - eyes on you - he tosses the club to Shep, who catches it easily.

You huff and try to pull your hand away, but he interlocks your fingers and then starts to lead you away and up the stairs. Not wanting to allow him seeing any petulance from you, you comply and follow him in silence. Adrenaline starting to taper off, you feel exhaustion seeping into your limbs, and part of you wonders if Andy knew you were reaching the end of your strength and stopped you before you would have lost steam on your own. Your stomach seethes.

Once on the main floor, you fall in step with him, not needing the staff to see anything that will make them talk. Some of them may be oblivious to why you’re here, but you know there are those who are aware at different levels that you aren’t here as the other half of a fairytale.

Your destination turns out to be the family dining room, not the formal one.

Dinner, of course.

He pulls your chair out for you, tucking it politely as you sit, and then takes his place across from you.

Sometimes you and Andy talk over dinner.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

If he’s going to be silent about today, say nothing more about your vandalism on arriving home, then you certainly are not going to stoke conversation. His eyes are on you frequently, but you ignore him.

Halfway through dinner and after taking a sip of wine, Andy finally says, “Your hair looks nice.”

You scoff. “As if you really noticed. Your men told you where we were.” You know it’s hardly changed.

Andy set his fork down. “Look at me,” he demands, tone serious, and so you comply. “They’re your men, and don’t make the mistake of thinking I will ever fail to notice a detail, especially when it comes to my wife.”

Your heart skips a beat - part fear, but part some flare in your heart that you hate reacting to his words. You raise your chin in defiance. “I’m not your wife.”

“Yet.”

Threat and promise.

As if the exquisite engagement ring whose heavy weight you were growing so used to weren’t a constant reminder.

Rather than think further on that, for the rest of the meal you consider his correction that Shep and Mark are your men when you’d said they were his. It was an interesting distinction, and you would put feelers out to ask about it later - not Andy, but maybe with the men.

When dinner is over, Andy stands and reaches for your hand. He always does. It’s unsettling because if only you had ever had a choice, the gesture would be endearing. A few nights over this month that you’ve been his, he kissed the back of your hand and left to attend to business. Some nights, he wanted to watch something with you before bedtime, or go on a drive like last night. Most often he takes you to the bedroom.

It’s the latter tonight.

You walk silently to the master suite together. Every muscle in your body is taught with tension, with the simmering rage and hurt of the day seething through your veins.

Andy closes the door and turns to face you.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re so upset before or after your punishment?”

“My - what?!” You glower and put your hands on your hips. “Why am I being punished? You let me smash two more cars before you even stopped me.”

“It’s not about the cars, it’s your refusal to talk to me about something that clearly has you worked up.”

“Worked up?” Your eyes widen and then narrow. “I’m not worked up, Andy, I’m infuriated.”

“Then tell me what crime I’ve committed.”

You scoff and turn away.

He catches you before you’ve taken two steps, gripping your upper arm. He hauls you toward the bed, takes a seat on the end of the mattress, and then lays you down over his lap. He takes both your wrists in his left hand and holds them firmly while his right hand pulls your pants down.

All of it happens so swiftly that you can’t even fight him, but you cry out when the first, harsh slap hits your bare ass. The sting is sharp and shocking. The second comes quickly after. You try to shake out of his hold, but he growls your name, tightens his grip, and the third slap comes even harder.

Four. Five. He kneads the flesh of your ass between some of the smacks. Eight. Fifteen. Twenty. Somewhere in the middle, the smacks morph into a swirl of simultaneous pain and numbness – a mirror of how you feel. You’re sobbing once he finally stops, body sagging in defeat over his lap. He lifts you carefully and lays you stomach down on the bed. You fold your arms and hide your face into the frame of them to cry and settle into softer cries, and Andy lets you have the moment of privacy.

It’s not long before you register Andy’s return though, his weight sinking onto the bed next to you. Then his hand is on your tender backside, applying a cold cream to your skin, and the relief makes you let out a shuddering sigh. He works it over you slowly, gently, methodically. By the time Andy’s finished, so are your tears. You’re still full of emotions, but they’re a swirling, complicated mess. You feel like the frustration has been spanked out of you, but you’re still hurt and angry, but now you’re also confused by this tender act. This only extends when he urges you to roll over, and sit up, and he kisses your forehead. You look up at him dolefully, he wipes away the remaining tracks of your tears. He’s shed his clothes from the day and is now bare-chested and in a pair of navy silk pajama bottoms. He proceeds to gently help you take off your shirt, your bra, and then slips you into a silk robe he’s brought from the closet.

Then Andy stands, scoops you up into his arms, and heads to the balcony of your master suite. He settles down onto the loveseat and arranges you in his lap so you’re sitting sideways over him, and he wraps his arm around you. It’s more of the confusing closeness, physical intimacy that you crave but can’t give into with him. It’s the first time you’ve been out here, and it affords a beautiful view of the darkening sky. Yet another thing you would have yearned for but don’t want like this.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you say honestly.

He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“But will you hear me?” You ask and turn your head away and out of his hand.

He smoothes his thumb over your jaw but - to your surprise - doesn’t force you to look at him as he had before. Instead he lets his hand drop and brings it around your waist so he’s got both arms banded around you again.

“You’ve taken so much from me, Andy. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I have no way out of this, but it’s been mounting and it came to a peak today. I had a day to myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend it with my friends or my parents because I can’t tell them about us! I haven’t spoken or texted any of them on more than a surface level since this all began. And I haven’t gone back to work yet, but I want to work, I need to work, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell them either!”

He is quiet for a moment. And then, “I knew you hadn’t told anyone, but why do you think you can’t tell them about us?”

“What am I supposed to say?” You scoff. “I can’t tell them that you threatened me with blackmail and forced me into our engagement!”

“No,” he agrees, “You can’t tell them that.”

“So, what am I supposed to tell them?”

“That you fell for my charms, that I surprised you when I declared my intentions and by how serious I was, that I made it almost impossible for you to refuse me. It’s enough of the truth.”

You frown and scrutinize his face. “Enough of the truth,” you repeat, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Is that how you always live your life?”

 He lifts his chin, a flash of hardness in his eyes. “I’ve done what I needed to.”

“You didn’t need to go behind my back to meet my parents!” You blurt, the hurt in your voice bleeding out despite trying to keep it in, to keep it away from him, not wanting to share something so personal.

“I want to have a good relationship with my in-laws. My mother’s dead and my father was sentenced to life in prison when I was a kid.”

“But they’re my parents,” you stress. “I should have been able to be the ones to tell them about getting married. You stole that from me.”

Andy studies your face quietly.

You drop your gaze. You won’t tell him why stealing this moment – more than anything else he’s done – was your breaking point. You doubt he would care or understand, but he also doesn’t get to know something so personal. He hasn’t earned that right.

“You love them,” he finally says.

You nod. “We’re very close.”

He falls silent again.

Finally, you give an exhausted sigh. “Why did you have to do this to us?”

“I wanted you.”

“I wanted you, too. You should have let us fall into it.”

“Fall now.”

“I can’t,” you protest, and you look up to argue further, but he’s faster, cutting you off with a kiss.

His lips are demanding, and the heat he pours into the kiss seeps into the cracks he’s been chipping away inside you, and your traitorous body leans into the moment. You’re exhausted physically and emotionally.

You don’t know how you can ever let yourself fall for him.

But as his hands soothe up and down your back, you wonder if you have to deny yourself everything for the rest of your life?

What if you fell into him for one night? Allowed yourself to let go, to forget for just a few hours? You are so tired. And your body aches. And after so much hurt, betrayal, and anger running high through your veins for so many hours now, after the shock and release from being put over his knee, maybe you just want to forget and get lost in pleasure.

Pleasure you know he was far too capable of giving.

Not only capable of giving, but master of overwhelming you with it.

After he’s stolen so much from you these last weeks, maybe you want and need to steal a night of ecstasy without any thoughts.

You shift on his lap, his arms still around you, until you’re straddling his lap. You leverage his broad shoulders to push yourself up on your knees, and you look down at him. You can’t read everything in his dark blue stormy eyes yet, but you can interpret some of what’s there. He’s intrigued and you can see the spark of hunger flaring, but there’s something else you can’t quite read.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

He doesn’t pull you in closer, but his arms hold you steady in your kneeling stance. You reach for the tie of your silk robe, and you slowly pull it loose.

“Tonight is not for you,” your voice is low, quiet, but not soft, “it’s for me.”

His eyes narrow a fraction, but as you shrug the silky garment off your shoulders, he helps let the robe fall free to the ground.

Andy’s eyes rake over your naked form, drinking in every curve and dip of your body. His hands glide up your sides, rough palms contrasting with the softness of your flesh. You shiver despite the warmth of the evening air.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscles there. Your fingers trace the lines down to his abdomen, following the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his waistband. You can feel the evidence of his arousal, and he groans, gripping your hips tightly, and you squeeze his length - big as the rest of him - the cock that has ruined you.

He leans in and his lips burn a trail down your neck, over your chest and find one of your breasts, nipping on the swell before licking at your aereola and taking it into his mouth. Your fingers rake into his hair, and he sucks insistently until your nipple is almost painfully hard. He releases it with a pop, then moves to give equal treatment to your other breast. You press your needy cunt down against his groin, keening for him.

You grind against him, and he can’t help but groan. In one fluid motion, he stands, lifting you with him. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist instinctively as he carries you back into the bedroom. He lays you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. He takes less than a second to push his pajama bottoms down and off before he joins you on the bed, his body covering yours.

His weight presses you into the mattress. You feel every inch of his hard body against yours, and you arch up, desperate for more contact. Andy's hand slides between your bodies, finding your slick folds. He groans when he feels how wet you are for him.

"Always so ready for me," he murmurs against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

You whimper as his fingers tease your entrance, circling but not entering. You buck your hips, trying to force him inside, but he pulls back with a dark chuckle.

"Patience, sweetheart," he admonishes.

But patience isn't what you want tonight. You want to lose yourself in sensation, to forget everything but the pleasure he can give you. You reach down and grasp his thick length, guiding him to your entrance.

He forces your hand away with a tsk, and you glare at him, but he is grinning, moving down your body already. He kisses the sensitive spot on your lower stomach, the one he discovered that always makes you gasp and arch your back for him. His shoulders force your legs open to accommodate his frame as he plants himself between your thighs.

Andy's mouth descends on your core, his tongue laving your sensitive folds. You arch into him, a moan escaping your lips. His beard scratches deliciously against your inner thighs as he works you over with his skilled tongue. He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, building your pleasure steadily.

Your hands fist in his hair, holding him against you as you rock your hips. The coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter. Just as you're about to topple over the edge, Andy pulls back, denying you release.

“Andy, please,” you beg.

Andy's breath ghosts over your sensitive flesh, making you shiver and whine. He places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, then another, slowly working his way back towards your center. You squirm, desperate for more contact, but his strong hands hold your hips firmly in place.

He chuckles, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through you. "I thought this night was for you," he teases, his beard scraping deliciously against your thigh. "Let me take care of you."

Before you can protest, his tongue laves a long, slow stroke up your slit. You cry out, your back arching off the bed. He repeats the motion, this time circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Your hands fist in the sheets as Andy's talented mouth works you over. He alternates between long, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, never letting you settle into a rhythm. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that he knows makes you see stars.

"Oh god, Andy!" you cry out, your hips bucking against his face.

He hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers pump in and out, matching the pace of his tongue on your clit. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy murmurs against your flesh. "Let go for me."

His words are your undoing. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your body arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelms you. But he’s anything but finished.

Andy doesn't let up, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm and pushing you towards another peak. Your body trembles, oversensitive but craving more. You tug at his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

"Too much," you gasp, but he ignores your weak protest.

He adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously as he continues to lap at your swollen clit. The intensity builds rapidly, and before you can catch your breath, you're tumbling over the edge again. This time, Andy pulls away, allowing you a moment to recover.

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to nip roughly at your collarbone. When he reaches your mouth, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, your hands roaming over his broad back.

Andy positions himself between your thighs. You reach between your bodies and guide him to your entrance. You need him inside of you. He pushes in slowly, stretching you deliciously, filling you completely. You both groan as he slides in to the hilt, and you throw your head back. He stills there, kisses along your jaw, then gives a soft rock of his hips, rutting against you, but not thrusting.

“Move,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to urge him on.

Andy leans down and claims your lips again, demanding the intimate kiss as his price, his tongue licking into your mouth to tangle with yours. He then sets a steady rhythm that has you moaning with each thrust. You buck your hips to draw him in with each stroke. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans of pleasure.

You drag your nails down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. He hisses, then retaliates by biting down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure makes you cry out.

"Harder," you demand, needing more, needing to lose yourself completely.

Andy growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force of his thrust pushing you up the bed. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders. He sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his movements. Your walls clench around him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "Take what you need from me."

You're climbing higher and higher, chasing that blissful peak. Andy snakes a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs tight circles over the sensitive bud, and it's too much.

You shatter, screaming his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body convulses, clenching rhythmically around him. Andy fucks you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you're a trembling mess beneath him as he chases his own release.

It takes a few more strokes, and then he’s spilling his hot seed inside of you, groaning against your neck. He collapses his weight onto you for a few moments, catching his breath. Your hands roam over his back. If you had been given the chance to choose him, to choose this life, wrapped in his arms right now you would have felt blissfully content, and so since tonight was a pass on reality, you let a satisfied sigh fall from your lips.

Andy’s lips find yours again, and you kiss until you feel floaty and boneless beneath him, head empty of all thoughts.

When the fervency of the kisses finally slows into a languid calm, Andy finally rolls off of you. He reaches for the switch to turn off the soft lights that had been on, then settles on his side, facing you. He traces lazy patterns over your form with his fingers, and you close your eyes and simply feel.

You didn’t know you had fallen into sleep except that the motion of Andy pulling you into his chest so he can spoon up behind you pulls you back into consciousness. He chuckles softly at your little mewl, and then pulls you a little closer to his warm chest and plants a kiss on your neck, just below your ear. You settle against him without complaint.

You’re exhausted, and you don’t know where he finds the resilience, but his hand snakes down to cup your cunt again, and you hum as he begins to work your clit. You have no strength left in you, but if you don’t have to work for it and Andy’s going to give it to you, you’ve learned under his hand that he always knows how to coax out one more climax from you when you think you’re already spent.

Your breath speeds up again, and you can feel the promise of pleasure pulling at your muscles, tightening them for one final release.

As he works you quickly up to that point, he speaks directly into your ear. “You said tonight was for you, not for me. It’s the lie you needed to tell yourself to let go, and that’s fine, but know that your pleasure is always pleasure for me.”

And so unfairly, your body comes for him right then, exactly as he wants you to, and you cry out before going even more limp in his arms. He presses another kiss on your neck, and you can feel his satisfied smile against your skin. You desperately wish you could break out of his arms and roll away from him, but you do not have even an ounce of strength left, and so you simply let the exhaustion overtake you and escape from him in sleep.

You’re vaguely aware of how close Andy keeps you all night. Since he typically does, it’s a surprise when you wake to an empty bed. There is only a vague suggestion of sunlight beginning to come in the windows, so you know it’s still incredibly early. The sheet is down around your waist, and you splay your arm out to where Andy should have been. The bed isn’t cold, but there’s only a hint of warmth, so you know he’s been up for a while.

As if unnervingly on cue, Andy comes in from the ensuite bathroom and hums at seeing you awake. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

He strides right up to the edge of the bed, leans down, and plants a kiss on your cheek, then rubs his hand softly over your jaw.

“Morning,” you respond.

You hate how lovely this scene should be. Your heart wants it, but your brain reminds you not to accept this contrived intimacy he pretends is real and normal.

He crosses the room and retrieves his phone, starts to put on his watch, the finishing touches before he embarks on his day.

“You can sleep in,” he says softly.

“Why are you up so early? It’s Sunday.”

“Early tee time at the country club,” he answers.

You make a vague sound of acknowledgement and pull the sheet and duvet back up to burrow in for a lazy morning of more sleep and maybe some reading.

“Enjoy lunch with your mom, by the way,” he says at the door. “I’m teeing off with your father, so I’ll persuade him to have lunch with me to give you two time as just mother and daughter.”

You suck in a sharp breath and he departs, dropping this revelation, and leaving you to seethe at his making yet another bold move, seeping steadily further into the foundations of your life.

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

SO

YEAH

Still with me here?

Even though I figured out the plot point for this chapter a while back, when I wrote it, I had to take a break a few times because I was upset over how some things were playing out.

I was also surprised by some of the development with her security detail of Mark and Shep. I randomly made them up really quickly during Prepare for Takeoff, but then here I learned they were going to end up being even more important than I thought (including something key for two specific future plot points).

[nickfowlerrr]

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[barnxyes]

moth to a flame - dark mob andy barber x fem actress reader | Chapter 1

- Summary: You have captivated the boss’s heart much to your obliviousness.

Warning(s): Mentions of stalking, kidnapping, obsession + mentions of guns + needle, armed men, reader is drugged.

WC: 4.6k

AN: Let me know what you thought! Reblogs, Asks & Comments are much appreciated!

With a sigh of exhaustion, your head plopped against the window of the vehicle, eyes heavy as they closed , desperately calling for sleep.

The AC hummed with peace, your driver's hand thumping against the wheel with the music coming from his ear as he continued to drive. Night was yet to come, the sun hidden behind the curtains of gray, dark clouds with shocks of lighting emerging.

Your peace was stolen, taken suddenly with a gasp of alarm as screeching tires resounded, your body lurching towards the driver's seat with force as the car came to a halt. The pain from the seat belt jamming onto your chest wasn’t comprehend from the fear that took over when your eyes set on three vehicles that surrounded yours

“What - what the fuck is going on?”

You couldn’t see it, but Ari gulped, his hand on his holster, ready to unveil his handgun at any second. But yet, he knew he couldn’t do much because an entourage of men in suits made their way out of their black SUV’s, five or six in each.

It was months ago that your management had upped the security after a man tried - but failed to take you as his own.

If anything, you felt bad for the guy, expending his time, YEARS of stalking, and spending his last dime all for you until he realized that you’d never be his to keep. He planned it all, but unfortunately for him he was only one and he was taken in seconds.

But, all extent security seemed a bit too extreme and stupidly you’d only taken Ari in because the man was trustful and the most loyal man to date. “Stay calm ma’am. They might just ask for money.”

“Money? Ari, look at them. They don’t need money.”

Surprisingly, he took to rolling down the window with not an ounce of fright in his voice or expression. But, you on the other hand trembled slightly, giving a tight lipped smile when the eyes of the man who approached the windom connected with yours. He dressed simply, a black leather jacket wrapped around his upper torso with washed out blue jeans and aviator sunglasses that he took off and handed to a man behind.

The man stopped just next to Ari’s door, his hand wrapping around the front of his pants as his other dragged through his shaven head.

“May I help you gentleman?” Ari started.

“You very well can, sir, Mr. Levinson. I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the car. The three of you.”

Ari didn’t miss a beat. “Why?”

The man’s eyes traveled once again to yours, a hint of a smirk forming on the corner of his lips. “Boss’s orders.” He shrugged. “Curtis, pleasure I’m sure. Please, don’t make this difficult. Oh, also hand over the sidearm that I know you’re holding.”

It seemed he didn’t know patience, for he sighed, his hand immediately pressing the SUV’s buttons that unlocked the vehicle. Ari was quick too, taking advantage of what the man standing before him did, pointing the gun straight at him.

Curtis smirked, raising his hands up in the air with mockery because as soon as Ari raised his firearm, more were soon to follow from the entourage of men that stopped your car.

“Well…this is awkward. You brought a knife to a gunfight.” He pouted with a derisive laugh as he shook his head with faux disappointment and sighed. “Get her out.”

“Don’t you dare touch me!” You grunted, kicking at the two men who came for you, their hands gripping your forearms with a harshness that made your skin burn. “Ari! Let me go!”

“Please, ma’am!” One of them spoke. “Don’t be difficult. We truly do not mean you any harm.” His sentence fell on deaf ears for you kicked one where the sun did not shine and punched the other just as Ari had taught you. They both cried out, tending to their injuries with grimaces and while they did, you took the opportunity to run, dashing through the barrier of cars that stood around you.

But Curtis was faster, and with a cackle he wrapped his arms around your middle, his grip tight as your body flailed. “Not so fast Ms. Hollywood.” He gritted. Behind you, you could hear Ari’s grunts of struggle against the hold of multiple men holding him back from getting to you.

“Why are you doing this!”

Curtis was strong, holding you in his vice grip with one arm as his other went inside of his leather jacket, fishing something out of it and when you saw it, the thin and clear syringe in his hold, you cried out even more, thumbing your legs against his boots.

He hissed, annoyed with the slight sting. “Like I said -,” he spoke, gritting the top of the needle with his teeth before spitting it out on the ground and inserting it inside your skin.

“No, no no.” Mumbling, your body sagged against his as your vision blurred and your body felt heavy.

“ - bosses orders.”