#I wonder if Andy will ever get any friends his age

[pushing500]

Love watching my colonists all pitch in to teach Andy fun stuff. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and my colony is doing great at that so far.

I like to imagine that it's pretty easy to take advantage of Zonovo's Entomophobia trait if you ever need him to leave you alone for a minute. He seems particularly prone to being bullied, and I'm sure Andy would pick up on that quickly- he's a very clever cookie, after all.

Update on the illicit romance between the leaders of two rival ideologies: They are sitting next to each other outside in the rain to drink tea and coffee. I bet they're holding hands under the table so their followers don't suspect anything... Very sneaky.

The only colonist who doesn't seem to like helping Andy is Connie, even though Andy is, in fact, wearing a hat. She should like him more than Irwin for that fact alone based on how much she wants Irwin to cover up his hair.

But alas, her ideology says kids should do hard labour (thinking about it, she probably loves listening to Irwin reminisce about his days as a labour camp orphan), and she is upset that Andy is allowed to enjoy himself now and then.

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[babyjakes]

delicate. [blurb.]

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

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | virgin

pairing | daddy!ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | ddlg; daddy!ari is sooo soft the softest ever. virginity loss, not very graphic. stretching ft. ari's 13 inch dick. clit rubbing. cock bulging in tummy kink. lots of praise and encouragement. reader struggles to take him (same girl), cries a little. p in v, protection not specified. ari gives a safeword reminder.

word count | 837

an | written for ari's #1 babygirl @evansbby, who's been very good this year so no need to leave coal (an andy fic lol) under the tree for her!! happy holidays to you friend, i tried to make ari as sweet and soft and loving and wonderful as you always remind us he'd be! <33 hope the 13 inches live up to your expectations, if he's 13 inches soft he's a shower,, right??

Dragging his fingertips over your hipbones, Ari's warm gaze met your own as he whispered one final time, "You sure you're sure, baby? We can always wait. Daddy knows how big of a deal this is."

He had set the bedroom up just right for the occasion, his goal to make the space as safe and comforting as possible. He had lube on hand in case you'd need it, a big fluffy blanket spread out over the bed to act as a soft surface for you to lie on, a candle he knew you liked burning on the nightstand, and everything for cleanup and aftercare set out in advance: a pack of baby wipes, a clean pair of panties, one of your favorite old t-shirts of his that you liked to sleep in, and more. If your daddy was one thing, it was thoughtful, and he had put plenty of thought and care into preparing for your first time.

"'m sure, Daddy," you giggled sweetly, smaller hands coming down to find his. And you meant it; you had been the one to finally initiate things, after all. Ari had been patiently waiting for you to tell him you were ready, never giving you even the tiniest sense that he was getting impatient. He wanted everything done on your timeline, when your heart and body were telling you that they were ready.

The broad man held your hands momentarily, giving them a squeeze as he smiled adoringly at you, "Okay, princess. Just wanna be sure." Gently releasing your fingers to lay on your tummy, he brought his thumbs down to spread your puffy pussy lips open. He had already spent plenty of time warming you up and getting you ready; as he suspected, he wouldn't be needing any help from the lube. "So fuckin' pretty, sweetheart. Look at how wet you are for me, such a good girl." He took a moment to swirl some of your arousal over your perfect little clit, marveling at the way it twitched excitedly beneath his touch.

Steadying his thumb there, he moved his other hand down to line up his leaking tip at your entrance. Pushing his head up against your tiny opening, he sucked in a breath, trying to reel himself in. It was taking all the strength and self-control he had to refrain from sinking himself into you without a care- but your big, trusting eyes blinking up at him so adorably were more than enough to keep him in check. You were his princess, his baby, his entire world; he didn't have it in him to hurt you, no matter how tempting the situation.

"Ready, pretty girl? Take a deep breath for me," his heavy voice guided you as he gently began easing himself in. Immediately, the stretch was nearly unbearable. Little feet kicking weakly, you whimpered as tears welled in your eyes. "You're okay, baby. You're okay," Ari took his time with you, keeping his thumb working circles over your clit to help with the discomfort. "You remember your word, sweetheart?"

"M-mhm," you sniffled, the way you rubbed your eyes so sweetly earning a loving smile from the man. "Keep going Daddy, please. I-I can take it," you promised. As much as the insertion ached, you were determined to be a big girl for your daddy.

Gentle eyes resting on your face, Ari's voice swelled with affection as he murmured, "My baby girl's so brave. Doin' so well, little one. That's it, just keep those pretty eyes on me."

It was a long, grueling affair, each inch of his massive length proving to be harder to take than the last. But through every painful moment, he was talking you right through it. "Doin' so well, sweetheart." "That's it, baby. Keep breathin' for me." "Almost there, pretty girl. Daddy's so proud'a you."

When he finally pushed the last of himself inside you, his wide hips pressing up to meet your own, he brought a hand up to cup your cheek as the rest of his body stilled. As he stood there over you, looking down on your sweat-dampened face, you swore you'd never seen his eyes shine with so much love. "Look at that, sweet girl. So full of Daddy," he crooned with pride, his hand rising from your clit to gently press on the base of your tummy where his cock was bulging from within you.

"S-so full," you managed a nod in agreement.

Barely rocking his hips, Ari was intent on giving you plenty of time to get used to his size. As you lay there on your back, panting from the arduous process of simply fitting his entirety inside of you, your daddy's heart was so full of love and sympathy for you. "My good, sweet girl," he hummed knowingly, wiping a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek. "Don't worry, little one. We'll take things nice and slow. I'm in no rush; the most important thing to me is making you feel good."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 7

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

Andy returns in the afternoon. The day is a void in your mind. You don’t feel as if any time has passed at all yet you know you’ve been waiting for hours. Sitting, pacing, watching. You’re dizzy, almost dazed, as you can’t settle enough to stay still. 

As you stare at your father’s unmoving body, your ears filled with the noise of pumping and beeping machine, Andy nudges you gently. He holds out some clothes. Yours. You recognise the rainbow striped shirt and faded denim. You thank him and shuffle out to change. You know you need to put something on. Your skin is speckled in goosebumps in the ever-frigid hospital. 

You pull on the shorts and the shirt and ball up your bikini, keeping the hoody slung over your forearm. You go back to your dad’s room and offer Andy his sweater. He waves you off and tells you to keep it. His blue eyes focus on the bed, a furrow between his brows. 

“Anyone come check on him?” He asks. 

“The nurse, a couple times,” you answer. “No change.” 

“Mm, alright,” he rubs the side of his nose, “I got your bag in the car. Tried to grab what I could.” 

“Oh, my phone?” You wonder. 

“Yeah, uh, I popped it in there. Wanna go get it?” He looks up at last, his irises almost glazed over. 

“No, I don’t need it right now,” you shrug. You don’t have the energy for all that. 

“You call your mom?” 

He’s such a dad. It almost feels good though. Having someone looking out for you. 

“Yeah, she’s... she can’t come,” you bite your lower lip and try not to show your agitation.  

“Mm, yeah, I know they weren’t on the best terms,” Andy rasps. “You hungry at all? I walked past the cafeteria. Could at least grab a coffee? Since you don’t drink, I think they have tea?” 

You consider him then peek over at your dad. What’s a couple minutes. You’re starting to suffocate in here. You nod. There’s nothing else to do but wait. 

Andy gestures you ahead of him and catches up to you outside the room. He guides you to the elevator and takes you a few floors down. He leaves you to sit at a table and heads off in search of food. You cradle your head in your hands as you stare at the scratch surface of the table. 

You jolt up as he clatters a tray down across from you. He gives an apologetic smile and dolls out the goods. 

“Chamomile,” he places a paper cup in front of you, “tylenol.” He puts the travel tube down, “my head is splitting, how about yours?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you take the pills and rattle them before pushing down on the childlock, “actually, it kills.” 

You toss back the tablets as he continues to sort out the tray, “jello,” he puts a cup in front of both of you, “turkey club? That’s the special, I guess, and... coleslaw.” He lifts the top slice of bread on his sandwich and curls his lip, “not much colour to it.” 

“Food,” you say flatly and blow over the chamomile. “I’m not very hungry but... tired.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, “we’ll get through it. Just need to be patient.” 

He sounds sure, but compared to you, anyone sounds like they know what they’re doing. You sip from the tea and trade the cup for a spoon and the container of jello. Grape. You eat it mechanically. It tastes like cough syrup. 

Andy takes small, tight bites. Several times you catch him staring. You shift and leave the jello unfinished. 

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing,” he says as he swallows, “I just... you okay? Aside from the obvious?” 

You frown, “I don’t know.” 

“You look... a little... well, I slept like shit too.” 

“Oh, hah, yeah, I probably look like crap,” you snort. 

“Wouldn’t say that,” he counters. “Just tired. I...” He takes a breath as he measures his thoughts, “you’re a good daughter.” 

“Mm, I guess. I don’t know,” you lift the sandwich. The bread is stale. “Always felt like a burden but he did what he could.” 

“He’s going to wake up,” Andy promises, “but you can’t take care of him if you don’t care of you. So eat...” he looks down, “I know it’s not gourmet but like you said, it’s food.” 

“Step up from one dollar ramen,” you mutter. 

You eat all but the dry crust and only have a taste of the tangy coleslaw. You finish the tea before Andy dumps the remnants in the trash and returns, standing with a hand on his hip. You get up and zip the hoodie as you hug yourself. You head back to the elevator, anxious to get back to your dad. 

As you enter his room, there’s a nurse by his bed. You see his hand move, the tube tangled at his wrist, and you rush forward. Andy stays by the door as you stop by the bed rail. 

“Dad,” you babble, “dad...” 

“He’s still a bit groggy,” the nurse says as she holds a styrofoam cup with a straw up to him. Your dad growls and turns his head away, “come on, Douglas, you need to drink.” 

“Mm, mm,” he continues to evade the straw. His eyes bulge out as he looks at you.  

You lean forward and your heart throbs, “dad?” 

“Eh, kiddo,” he gurgles out and smiles, then cringes and falls back. 

“Dad!” You exclaim. 

“Douglas, come on and drink,” the nurse pleads then glances over at you, “here,” she holds out the cup, “get him to finish that, alright?” 

You nod and accept it shakily. You call to your dad again and rub his arm, “hey, dad, you want some water?” 

His eyes skim back to you and he squints. He sits up as straight as he can and you put the straw to his lips. He drinks, just a little, and the nurse exhales. 

“I’ll be back,” she says before she flits off. 

Andy approaches in her absence and you coax your dad to keep drinking. 

“Hey, Doug, good to see ya,” he pats your dad’s hand gently, though his voice is barely more discernible than your father’s. 

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your dad’s best friend makes an attempt at being a little nicer to you.

prompts. | Andy Barber + Dad’s best friend + “Can’t you see I’m trying?” + Cum-marking, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!dad’s best friend!Andy Barber x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, smut, male masturbation, facial, cum-marking, dirty talk, age gap, implied mean!andy, Daddy kink, pet names, alluded oral (m receiving), and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

You knew you should’ve just kept your mouth shut. But you couldn’t handle Andy’s rude behaviour anymore—not when he’d come over so often and intrude into your personal space. Every comment pushed you to the edge, and you couldn’t take it any longer, so you told your dad about it.

Of course, he was hesitant to believe his best friend would be so unkind to his daughter. But when you insisted and threatened to move out, your father acceded and mentioned it to Andy.

But now, you regret ever saying anything.

One of Andy’s hands is wrapped around your throat as he keeps you in place, forcing you to watch the dirty act he puts on. The older man strokes his dick in front of your face, making a real show of it. You balk at his size, and he notices this, chuckling.

“Aw, are you worried if it’ll fit in that tiny cunt, baby? Don’t worry, Daddy’ll stretch you out,” Andy chuckles, and though you claim you hate him for this, you can feel your pussy getting wet from his filthy words. 

You don’t dare move, afraid Andy will hurt you. But you also find yourself tantalized by his actions, roped in and unable to escape the trance he keeps you under.

“You’re so mean, you know that right?” you spit out, and he tightens his grip on your throat to threaten you. “I’m being nice. Can’t you see I’m trying?” Andy asks, and his tone almost seems genuine. 

You decide to keep quiet, worried your attitude will dig a bigger hole for yourself. 

You instead focus on Andy’s hand moving up and down his long, thick cock. Pre-cum leaks in beads from the tip, and you can feel your mouth watering. You have the urge to lick each drop up, but you fight it back.

“Fuck—you don’t know how many times I’ve done this while thinking about you,” he grunts, squeezing his base just a bit. The confession makes your thighs squeeze together—why are you so turned on? You know you should be screaming and crying, but you don’t want to.

“Do you think about Daddy, baby?” Andy questions, picking up the pace on his cock. He fucks himself expertly, and you find your panties ruined with your wetness. Your clit throbs, and you just want him to fuck you, the desire becoming too much to bear.

You don’t answer him—afraid you’ll give away the truth under his undeniable dominance. Andy Barber has you wrapped around his finger. 

“I know you do—fuck, I bet you dream about Daddy splitting you open on his dick,” Andy groans, and you can tell he’s close with how his tone gives way and his cock twitches. 

Andy stares at your beautiful face and moans when you start to give him those doe eyes. He’s yearned for something like this forever, wondering just when will be the day he could strike. And then you just had to go and run your little mouth—the mouth he’ll eventually teach to take his dick the way he likes it, nice and deep.

The older man’s moans grow louder and louder as he reaches his climax. Andy’s balls clench while spurts of his cum shoot from the tip of his cock, landing on your face. He paints and marks you with his seed, knowing he’ll have to take a photo of the sight to properly remember it. 

“Shit– fuck, yeah,” he pants, continuing to jerk himself off until he becomes too sensitive. Andy remains hard, though, and you marvel at the feat once you open your eyes. 

You can feel the streaks of cum on your face, especially your lips. “Y’know, you look so much better like this,” your father’s best friend tells you, and you know from his tone that he’s far from finished with you.

[dwindlinghaze]

hi ! i love your andrew fics and i was wondering if you could write something sweet and fluffy about andrew's love language being physical touch? <3

soothe me

(ag x reader)

hey thank you for the request!!! i also don't really know how to show physical touch since this isn't really my love lang but i hope this is what it means!! sorry for any mistakes <33 🫧🫧

contents: physical touch, fluff

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

i. midnight shadows

"love i'm going to the market, do you need anything?" he asked you as he grabbed the keys.

"maybe all purpose flour and brown sugar. i was thinking i'd bake tonight, ooh also i'm craving for strawberries. please get them andy," you give him a cheeky smile.

"alright, i'll be sure of it," he steps towards you to bring your hair back and kiss you. he stayed there for awhile, looking at you as if you're supposed to do something.

"what do you need? go!" you pushed him back playfully. he instead came back to you again and kiss you for the second time.

"come with me please? i don't want to be away from you," he said, tugging you to him,

"honey, it'll only take ten minutes! you have been away from me for months even," you laughed, nudging his side.

"yes but i want you to be with me when i grab stuff," he said sloppily as he flopped his cheek on the side of your head. "you know i forget stuff easily and i only remember you wanting brown sugar. that's it."

"fine, you're acting like a kindergartener," you giggled as you ruffled his hair. he leaned into your touch, he was basically glued to your side that whole micro trip to the market.

ii. daylight is so close

the most time he shows that his love language is physical touch is in the mornings.

he usually wakes up alone in a cold bed when he's away filming, but when he's with you, he wakes up in the warmest bed he's ever known (or he thinks that because you're in it).

you woke up with the feeling of his arms around you, no doubt those two skin and bone were wrapped around your figure the whole night.

"morning," you said when you heard him shuffling the bed sheets. but no reply was given back as for he was still deep in slumber, it's not his fault though that he is tired.

his face was resting on the crook of your neck the next moment you opened your eyes. "hi," he said while smiling with closed eyes.

"hello to you," you replied. "i'm hungry."

he hummed in response. he didn't seem to notice the fact that he's not letting you out of his comfortable grip.

"i want to make breakfast," you stated, starting to push his thick arms.

"no," he mumbled, "don't go!"

you sighed in defeat, one of his arms were so much stronger than both of yours, thanks to his trainer. "andy, my stomach is practically grumbling right now."

he laughed softly, "starved aren't you?"

"very, so if you will, please let me go," you paused to look at his peaceful state. his eyes were fluttering close, his lips bent upward slightly. he was barely up; half awake.

guess breakfast will have to wait until he is fully awake.

iii. we're in slow motion

his display of physical affection shows no less when you two were walking on the park nearby. his hands were glued to yours, making it impossible for you to text back your friend because you other hand was holding the cup of tea you were having.

"isn't this interesting," he chuckled, peering over the bench where a dog was digging a hole to bury a squirrel.

you looked curiously at him, then at the dog. "poor squirrel. i hope she had a nice life in which she enjoyed very much."

"how'd you know it's a she?"

"guessing," you replied as you let out a small laugh. then a pair of soft lips were on yours, sucking in your breath. "we're on public!"

"i don't care," he said with a shrug and continue what was stopped.

"what was that for anyway?" you laughed, squeezing his hand that was holding yours to tell him that you loved it.

he pursed his lips, cocking his head to the side. "i dunno, you just look really pretty and i have to make sure that you know i'm here."

you laughed, "of course i know you are there! you've been squishing my hand every time a bug flew past you."

"oh no i don't," he shook his head, embarrassment taking over him.

"love, you know i love it when you're holding my hand."

iv. hard times are golden

his love language becomes even stronger when he is having a hard time. not only because he knows you are always there for him, it's also the fact that holding any of you keeps him grounded. brings him comfort in some way.

when he felt like every path is a dead end with no way out, you're there to hold his hopeless pieces together.

your hands running through his hair while also whispering sweet nothings. you did the best to speak his love language, you did not know whether it's almost enough or not. although almost is never enough, he assured you that it is enough.

and when it comes to you in the position, he would drown you is his touch.

when you cried tears, enough to see your reflection in them, it was clear to him that he is the one who could mend you up and dry the rain parade from your eyes and turn it into a rainbow.

he hugs you and kisses you like it's the end of the world. and the side part he loves about it is that you don't get annoyed when he is all over you. it brings him solace with the fact that he can physically touch you with affection while you greatly accept them too.

v. keep me in your orbit

he always keeps you in eye sight. no matter where and when.

in parties he would keep an arm around you to make sure that you're there. the last thing he would do is to lose your touch.

when your fingers intertwined, it's like it brought forth an incandescent glow. although your hands usually aren't so warm, he seeks out for it when he's cold.

"darling, are you cold?" he asked. the room was filled with a mix of cold and warm air, even though two heaters were on.

"are you?" you questioned back.

"no cold could harm me," he gave a sloppy grin. "come here please, i will keep you warm."

"wait after i finished putting these back on the cupboard."

and he did, he waited until you were fully done in storing the clothes. he would store them, hell he would be more than glad to do your work for you, but unfortunately, he seemed to be doing a very messy job the first time you asked him to do it.

when you came under the blanket with him, he instantly pulled you to his chest. "miss you," he mumbled, lips pressing against your skin. "is the temperature too cold?" he asked once more.

"it's warm under here, so it's fine to me," you smiled as you snuggled your face closer to his, making his insides feel funny. "why are you so worried about cold air anyway?"

"just want to make you comfy," he shrugged.

"you're so thoughtful, i love you," you said as he made a grab to the tv remote.

"i love you more, darling," he smiles slyly, pressing play on the movie.

"oh no i'm sure i do," you fought back.

"you heard me right, i love you more!"

"no i-" your words were not finished as for his lips were already on yours before you even know it.

[mooseyspooky]

Hiya, I love your blog so so much so I wanted to ask some questions I've been curious to know your thoughts on:

1) What do you think about Johnny's sexuality? I know it's a very personal thing from experience and I don't wish to be intrusive but I've always wondered about him as someone who has been in a similar situation with a friend. I recall an interview where, in response to being asked about the possibility of being in love with Moz, he simply stated that he wasn't just because he was in love with Angie. He didn't say "No, because I'm not interested in guys" or anything. Just an interesting one lol.

2. Do you think that Moz's longing for Johnny remained as a simple infatuation rather than there ever being any instance of the two being more than friends? I ask this because I remember reading on Tumblr somewhere that apparently Grant Showbiz claimed they had been sleeping together on tour in 1983 or at least he had suspected it and also I've always had a hunch that there had to be at least one moment where something happened because I get it being awkward anyway but there had to have been something happen between them for them to be so secretive, right?

3. The whole thing with Johnny's wedding seems suspicious to me but I was wondering what you thought about it. The reason I say this is because I've always found it interesting how Joe Moss was very pushy about Johnny marrying a 'strong woman' and that, even if he may not have been thinking about the idea. I wonder if it was partly because Moss wanted to sway Johnny away from Moz/hide something/stop any suspicion from the press. Idk, just rambling lol.

Thank you!

Thank you so much for all these amazing questions! And for your sweet comments!!

1) Johnny's sexuality is on paper assumed to be straight, but I don't believe that in the slightest. Johnny has always given me the impression he was bisexual. He was drawn to and fit in with other queer people from a very early age. His best friend Andrew Berry was gay, some of his other early best mates were queer. Johnny found community among these people and went on to form a band with an openly queer frontman. He encouraged and was excited about Moz writing lyrics about queer experiences and queer sex. Maybe he's the world's biggest ally, but I doubt it. He seems very much like Noel to me, and Clint. Where having wives and girlfriends gives you "straight people privileges" while behind closed doors they're very open about their sexual interest in both men and women. Johnny was very physically affectionate towards Moz, hanging off him, cuddling him, sleeping on his shoulder. He was this way with Bernard, too, and with Issac from Modest Mouse to some degree. He was also very physically affectionate towards Andy.

The one time I can recall Johnny trying to say he was straight he stumbled over the words. It's tagged on my blog somewhere, but it's in the Oxford Union interview from 2019. (Edit: Found it!) Otherwise he's never definitively said one way or the other how he identifies.

Also, these quotes from Johnny in the book The North Will Rise Again:

Like damn, Johnny. Tell me again how straight you are lmao

2) I go back and forth all the time about if Moz and Johnny were actually sexually intimate. I know, this is coming from me. The one active marrissey fanfic writer, but it's hard for me to say. I'd never heard that about Grant Showbiz though. I find him to be generally pretty trustworthy, so that's fascinating if he does think that. Because more than any other time, late 1983 is when I think their relationship could have become more than infatuation. Angie broke up with Johnny for a week or two in December 1983, before they first went to America. Joe Moss also left. They were alone together, there was no band manager around, really. Johnny was filling that role. There was plenty of opportunity. Because of Moz being so reserved, I don't know that they would have gone beyond making out and heavy petting while they were both drunk, but I think even that would lead to Moz' spiraling obsession becoming what we saw by 1987. Songs like Happy Lovers at Last United, Alastian Cousin, Suedehead ('it was a good lay'), You Must Please Remember, Speedway. So many songs suggesting something more happened between them. So to some degree yes, I think they had to have messed around some, though I imagine Johnny tried to back pedal and push Moz away because he feared losing the aforementioned 'straight privileges' that being with Angie had. Having a public and open affair with your frontman would have been a PR nightmare, and while I'm sure Moz didn't care - Johnny would.

3) Joe Moss being pushy about the wedding is also something I haven't heard, but I'm not surprised. Johnny didn't propose to Angie. He just asked her if they should get married, and then they did so the next day, in California. Hundreds of miles from their parents, their siblings, from their home. They didn't have a honeymoon until after Johnny left in June 1987, suggesting Johnny didn't prioritize their marriage. The wedding photographer wanted a lot of money for the wedding photos, and Johnny decided it wasn't worth it (yes, the photographer was scamming him, but surely you'd pay out the nose for your own wedding photos - like. Did he not know a single person to loan him the money? In 1985 he was snorting a mountain of cocaine a day, couldn't he sell some of that and buy them? There had to have been options). Marriage seemed like an afterthought to him. Moz calling Angie a 'sad veiled bride' is also weird. Yes, of course Moz was upset. Johnny didn't choose him, but I Know It's Over is hardly a resentful rant. It's a very honest song. And so that makes me wonder why exactly is Angie unhappy? Because Johnny is doing this out of peer pressure? Because she knows it's something he doesn't really want? I refer to it again and again, but Happy Lovers at Last United also brings this up. Why did Moz have to help repair Angie and Johnny's relationship? Was Johnny unfaithful? Just checked out? Disinterested? This is further compounded by the fact that Johnny was MIA for so much of Nile's and Sonny's childhood. Johnny talks endlessly about how him and Bernard were always together. They spent days in the studio, at times saying they were literally locked in there together. Johnny went on holiday with Bernard, Johnny went on tour with him. More than that, Johnny says he spent several days at a time high on acid or shrooms recording stuff for The The. How did his marriage to Angie survive that? Did his kids get to see him sober when they were growing up? Did they get to see him at all? I don't have definite answers to any of these things, but it's definitely troubling.

[streets-in-paradise]

Safe Adult - Andy Barclay x Reader

Requested by Anon

" hey I was wondering if you can write one about Andy Barclay wanting to have kids with his SO please and thank you "

Quickly written on a rush of inspiration, but i hope you will enjoy the result :)

Warning: This fic implies Andy has rescued and deprogrammed Caroline.

Summary: Andy revisits his positive experiences dealing with children happening on the hunt for Chucky and realizes he wants to have kids with you.

Note: For some reason, in that pic he looks like he is having an epiphany and this is exactly what's happening on the fic.

Interactions with children were a vital part on the process of finding Chucky and despite Kyle was always the kindest, Andy noticed how many of them were spontaneously inclined towards him. Strange realization he would get in the most stressfull contexts, with a killer doll possibly after them.

Kids liked him for no damn reason, he just wanted to surveil the fighting ground and they would do anything to get his attention. At one given time, a little girl began to show him her toys before his sister could finish to introduce the excuse her parents needed for their presence. Still, it wasn't untill having Caroline arround that he began to take it seriously. That girl had enough time of being poisoned by Chucky to despise him and despite things weren't always easy, he got to win her trust. She was confortable with him and, according to Lexy, that was an accomplishment for anyone even before Chucky complicated things.

Then there was also Devon, whose blind faith in him remained a mistery that Andy couldn't solve. He never imagined he would be in the position of menthoring a teenage boy, incapable of guessing why anyone would want to emulate him. His affection and admiration were increíble, but also unexplainable. Unlike the little kids, Devon had the proper age to understand that he was a mess of a man and his life sucked.

For most part at least, since it got better with you on it. Against any of his initial predictions, you wanted to stay and your relationship had prospered regardless of the hardships. You had endured a dangerous meeting with Chucky and even after that you were patient regarding the work required on fixing the horrors he would leave behind with each appearance. Out of sudden a little girl was living with you after being rescued and you were on board with it from the start. He didn't ask if you wanted to be part of it, but he didn't have to for you to welcome the child. In fact, you were so involved that he started wondering if you weren't a little too happy with the whole thing.

Children were never a discussed milestone for the possible future of your relationship. He had never consider it before and, if you did, you had never brought it up. However, your reactions were an indication that something had changed. His weird little friend had awakened a side of you that he ignored completely and he wasn't severly alarmed by that.

More like curious, intrigued … Fascinated.

" Why are you acting like if we were her parents?" He questioned you once, ríght after observing in awe how you followed every bedtime ritual that the girl demmanded. " We don't know yet if it's going to be permanent, this is rehabilitation. Once Caroline will be clean from Chucky, she will be free to go for a normal home if she wants to. At least untill Lexy will reach the age to take over. "

You raised an eyebrow, then responded to his question with more questioning.

" Like if she could ever feel comfortable arround anyone else. Tell me this, Andy. Were you ever comfortable in any of those normal foster homes before Kyle had the age to take over?"

You had a point and he hated having to admit it, leading to complete honesty of what what happening inside his mind.

" You may be amazing at this, but I can't be a foster parent! I don't have control over my own damn life! Kids just follow me thinking that I know what i'm doing. "

" Most adults don't know what we are doing, we just pretend we do." You sweetly comforted him out of the self deprecating claim. " It's part of life, but I don't think all these children have been choosing you in vain. There must be something in you that they like: you listen to them, you make them feel understood and safe. "

Andy wasn't convinced of that, despite how flattering it sounded.

" Kyle does that a thowsand times better, so why me? "

" She didn't hear the lies, or saw her best friend in the world betray her. " You theorized out loud. " Your trauma is different and so is your way to connect with children. They relate to you, no matter how hard you try to put distance. "

Your words encouraged him in more than one aspect. Andy felt at the edge of a powerfull realization burried underneath all the layers of insecurity.

" Do you think I could ever be a good dad? "

His shy smile was a ray of hope.

" Of course I do! You would be an excellent one! And I don't say it just because I fall for you a little bit more deep with each of your safe adult stories. " You inmediately encouraged him. " You are a great man who cares so much, when you try your best you give all of you and I love you for that."

Proving your point with actions, you began to roam his face with little kisses.

" I love you, Andy. "

He enjoyed of your affections, but his mind was still focused on the topic.

" … But what if there could be someone else with us, apart from Caroline? Someone smaller and louder. "

" Did you got another Chucky head? " You teased him in return. " We have talked about that. Doll remains are only fine if the parts stay dead. "

He chuckled and pulled you even closer.

" I mean, to bring another Barclay into the world and continue the doll hunter bloodline. I have been thinking I won't live forever, but Chucky may."

Your eyes were open wide with surprise.

" Are you serious?? "

" Yes, I am. Hell, if Chucky dared to have children … Why can't I? " Andy insisted, with confident determination. " I can't do worse than him … Can I? "

You chuckled and kissed him on the lips, clinging to him with radiant happiness.

" There is nothing I would love more than starting a family with you. "

[andypantsx3]

Hi Andie, I've been reading your fics since your first one savvy 3 years ago. Your fics have been a great source of comfort for me and I'd like to thank you for that. I'm writing to you anonymously so I know you can't answer me privately, you don't need to answer or publish this ask at all as I don't wish to stir discourse on your blog or put you in an uncomfortable situation. I've really been debating on sending this to you because I don't want you to feel like I'm guilt tripping you or expecting something from you, because I'm really not.

A lot of people at this time are posting about the situation right now in Israel with Gaza. They are doing it out of empathy and I'm sure you are too. I live in Israel and in the past 2 weeks I've been in and out of our bomb shelter with rockets falling in our area every day. 4 people I know have been murdered by Hamas, I went to their funerals. 2 of them were my classmates - one was at the music festival, she was hiding in a bomb shelter that the murderers threw a grenade into. She was supposed to get married this week. One was guarding one of the towns that were infiltrated. One was my schoolmate's father who was biking in the area. And one was my neighbor's 19 year old cousin. I just want you to know that we've been hurt too. 1300 people have died and 200 are still kidnapped within Gaza. Women were raped and children were killed. This is not propaganda, I know those people. It IS a war, and I really wish it was over. I wish none of it ever happened. I've been reading your fics and following your blog in this nightmare situation, just trying to distract myself. Israeli people are not cartoon villains, not even the ones who are 'zionists'. We're all just afraid of being hurt. I'm just a normal woman, around your age... I guess it just made my heart sink to think that if you knew I was reading your fics you would think of me, my friends and my family as murderers or something. Everyone I know is scared out of their minds. Almost all reservists were conscripted and nobody wants them to go because we know some of them won't come back. Everyone just wants their loved ones to be safe and healthy. I just wish people saw us too. I've been on the left leaning side of the political map my whole life and I still am, the entire country is so livid with our government because we know this is their fault. But I just feel so torn between what I see online and my lived experience in this moment. I don't want anymore people to be hurt anymore anywhere.

I will continue to silently follow your wonderful writing and blog, and I wish you well.

Hey! I appreciate you looking out for me and saying I don't need to publish this but after reading, I wanted to make sure there was space for your voice on my blog too.

I think at least I personally am appalled at the generational, systematic genocide of the Palestinian people and I become more livid the more I learn about it. But at the same time, I have a fair few Israeli friends and know that the hard right Israeli government does not represent all, or even most, of Israeli citizens, and that you guys are hurting too, beyond imagination.

I am sorry if any of my posting has given that impression; I would absolutely never think that of Israelis on an individual level.

One thing I have not at all liked about the discourse I have seen in leftist spaces is the flattening of this war. You can hold two ideas in your head at the same time, the idea that Israel has oppressed Palestine for generations (with the full unwavering support and military funding of my American government, might I add) and the idea that the people who were hurt in the Hamas terrorist attacks, many of them children, deserved absolutely none of what happened to them. You are right to be shaken and hurt and terrified. I am so so sorry for your losses too.

I have been posting what I have because I am particularly terrified for Palestinian citizens, as I see how neatly Israel's response mirrors the US's outsized response after the 9/11 attacks. We were responsible for the deaths of millions of innocent people who had nothing to do with the 9/11 attacks, just as Israel has been killing Palestinians who had nothing to do with Hamas. So as an American, this aspect has been particularly haunting for me.

But my thoughts are with you and your family and your friends too, and if you ever want to talk about anything with me you are absolutely welcome to do so. I want you and your loved ones safe and healthy as much as I want that for the people of Palestine. Please, please, please stay safe.

[theteablogger]

Is there by any chance a screenshot of the details of the shaman wizard battle in a better resolution? I cannot make any of it out

Here's a screenshot of another archived version.

In case that doesn't work, here's the full text of the LiveJournal entry in question. m_oquinn is Brittany, who wrote the emails from her and Andy. To avoid confusion, I've put the emails from Brittany and Andy in italics.

28th-Dec-2009 11:32 am

Okay, my friends, here is the sum total of the Astral Undead Shaman Wizard exchange. I am leaving out the contact info and also one entire email that contained extremely specific personal info about Cfc, who is completely innocent of all of this and had no idea this was being done behind her back.

The worst part of this? Cfc has kids, and Andy and company divulged her address and other personal info which should never, ever have been revealed. So that part is left out.

Keep in mind I never bought into this for a second...from my very first response, I was leading them on, for the lulz.

The good stuff is behind the cut. *passes out popcorn* Everything beginning with this > is from me. The others are from m_oquinn and Andy

First: Many weeks ago, I posted about a recurring dream I was having of wandering through the woods. Somehow, that led to this:

Dear [redacted], Look, I know that you were the one to talk to Luvcharlie, AND I know that you did not mean for anything that happened to happen. Someone has been fucking with us. Cfc is under some kind of attack, something is trying to literally eat her kids. She sent message and we didn't get it because we were on road-now when we contact her it is like no one is home. Cheerful, everything is wonderful mode-nothing has been wonderful for ages. there is something big and something dangerous and deadly-You have the capacity and strength and power to do something. We are powerless and have been rung out by trip. Please, this is your dream-the children are in the house in the woods being eaten by monsters-Andy is down and when his shield over those kids break. it. is. over.

> Oh my. > Anything and everything else aside, let's deal with the > important stuff. I can and will help of course. > > I need a general idea of where they are. If you have a pic > you could email that would help. Their names, if you know > them. Anything that would help me zero in on them, > y'know? > I'll do what I can right now, but it won't do much > good without something more specific to work with. > > Please get me whatever info you can asap. > Love you dear, be strong, all will be well. > xoxo > [redacted]

[Way too much personal info, redacted] We will have more info following. The most important thing is to get inside the house so to speak, and distract from the children. Thank you thank you thank you

>working. more info on nature of threat? >please tell andy he can step down and relax, not to burn himself out. i've got some serious >shields started and am trying to target the actual threat, but i can't pinpoint it yet.

Spirit/Astral form of technically dead but v. powerful Seneca Sachem-level shaman, plus allies and minions. I know this sounds crazy, but is true.

>ok. i'm enlisting some help. >do you know why this is happening? who's ultimately behind it? that would help...whoever's >sending the ill will is a tool. i want the source. >something isn't right here. this isn't shamanic energy, but something darker. and there's >only one energy signature, no sign of "allies" or "minions". are you sure of your source? >also, there seems to be a secondary target, but i can't identify it. what's really going on?

A source said that it was above " the wheel" with each spoke a world and the hub a connection place. it was a shaman/wizard cross in late 16th possibly but that has passed from place of dead to something above that. Several targets have been hit so far. Not sure who or what is current secondary. The "allies" seem to have been neutralized by someone from the hub as a favor to Andy.

[At this point, I grew weary of the insanity and decided to go to bed. This was my final reply. I have heard nothing since]

Okay guys, this has been vastly entertaining, but I've had enough. I don't know if you all are serious about all this and therefore either being duped by someone or are in real need of some help, or if you're just trying to draw other people into your little games, but really. This? All of it? A genius level of what-the-fuckery.

Some good lulz, but I like playing in the real world. You've failed your saving throw. Your low charisma stat made this inevitable. Is there a paladin in your party?

Evil twins, IRA, mysterious pasts, Claymore scars, now astral undead wizards? Really? And you all just believe this? Without a second thought? What next, a coma?

Such amazing energy and clear creative talent should be used for something a lot more productive than this nonsense. It's a shame that the talent doesn't seem to be enough.

I'm sorry. I just can't be a part of this drama and lunacy. I have a life, in the real world, and I like it just fine. I hope all of you find the same someday.

[bdluejay]

tagged by me friend thing @alltimewhat to do this thingy thank u for putting it on my dash i love these thingies

last song: So Much (For) Stardust by Fall Out Boy. i finally listened to the titular album and cant get over how good it is oh my GODDDD. bipolar anthem. thank you pete wentz thank you patrick stump thank you andy hurley and thank you joe trohman. i love fall out boy sm the band of all time

last show: in the middle of rewatching Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts with my partner and its SO GOOD EVERYONE WATCH IT ON NETFLIX RN. it came out in 2020 and no one has talked about it since even though its so so very good. excellent 2 season cartoon with a great plot, actually good plot twists, dynamic, funny, and interesting characters, and an INCREDIBLE OST. like seriously the music alone sets it apart from other cartoons in its league. also the style and animation are so wonderful please watch Kipo please plase

currently watching: other than Kipo im finally watching breaking bad, just started season 3 and i hate walter hartwell white with every fiber of my being. the only cool thing he's ever done in his horrible miserable life was when he beat those guys up for making fun of his son with CP. jesse pinkman is my babygirl thank you.

currently reading: im in 2 books rn bc i need variety or ill never finish any book ever. first is The Creative Vegetable Gardener by Kelley Smith Trimble, its a really good book about gardening that i really didnt expect to like this much. aside from general gardening knowledge, its about breaking the mold of industrial inspired modern gardening and acknowledging gardening holistically, and what it can do for us mentally, physically, ecologically, and historically. honestly didnt expect to read about native land acknowledgement and the psychology of play in a gardening book written by an HGTV editor, but its a pleasant surprise and a very pleasant read. i cant garden where i am right now but theres a lot of good stuff in there. wow that was a lot but SECOND is How To Be You by Jeffrey Marsh, a lovely interactive self help book. ive only just started it but im already in love with it.

current obsession: Cheekface the band. ive had their music on REPEAT since i saw them live last month. an incredible mix between poppy energetic catchy music and cynical socially self aware lyrics. stream cheekface. all three of their albums. and also the b-sides. theyre so good if you want song recs I WILL GIVE THEM TO YOU LISTEN TO CHEEKFACE

tagging anyone who wants to as well lol

[purposefully-lost]

There was a note and a few bills on the counter when she got home. If you want to order dinner. Tell Andrew I said hello!

Oh. Right. She'd mentioned that Andy might be coming over tonight. Chris ignored the note and the cash both in favor of moving right for the stairs. Her bedroom door was slammed shut and her shoes were kicked to the corner before she walked over to her bookcase. She barely had to glance at it to know what book she was reaching for. A battered paperback was pulled from its place on the shelf and pulled to her chest as she climbed onto her bed, her back against the wall and her legs drawn up so that she was as curled into herself as she could be. With her head tilted down, her lips pressed to the top of the book, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to run.

The Return of the King. She hadn't actually finished it yet. She'd been about halfway through when Rabbit had disappeared; the library hadn't had any copies on hand, and when she'd mentioned it, he'd given her his to borrow. He'd apologized that it was a little beat-up and scribbled in, but she hadn't minded at the time, and now.. now it was a solace to her. Even if she couldn't bring herself to read it, just knowing the pages inside were marked and folded and written on by his hands had been a comfort. She'd been keeping it safe, just so she could return it when he came home.

No matter how hard she'd tried to fight it, the tears finally came anyway. Chris whined, reaching up to rip off her glasses and toss them maybe harder than was safe to towards the nightstand. She didn't glance to see if they'd landed where they'd meant to, instead leaning down further to press her forehead to the book. She could smell the mustiness of the pages, could feel the way they'd softened at the edges as they'd aged. She wondered how long Rabbit had had this particular copy, if it'd always been his or if it'd been secondhand. It wasn't like it mattered and it wasn't like she'd ever get the chance to ask him. He was dead.

There was no one home to hear her cry, so there was nothing to be held back. She choked and cried and yelled in frustration, squeezing the book to her chest like it was a lifeline. She screamed, muffling the sound in her arms, until her voice turned hoarse and her chest felt hollow. There was an instinct to go downstairs and find the phone, dial the number she'd taped up to the wall next to it over a year ago, look for comfort in the only other person in the world who'd really known what she was missing. The thought just made her yell again, wordless and angry, even if it made her throat hurt and left her coughing for breath. What a fucking joke. All those times she'd looked to Andy for friendship and compassion and all he'd done was lie to her. She was tempted to think that he was just as bad as his stupid friends, but honestly, he was worse. Desmond Baker and Alan Nowak had never had the smarts to string her along and make her think they were her friends. Andy had been doing it for a year-- and he'd done it to Jack, too.

Chris choked. He was dead, wasn't he? There was no use in denying it anymore. If he was alive, he'd have been caught by now. She supposed there was the chance that he'd just.. gotten away, he'd always been smart, but his face was one of the most distinctive she'd ever known. Someone would've recognized him. She'd been living for a year with a stupid fantasy of him coming home, alive, somehow with the evidence that it hadn't been him, or that his hand had been forced, and things would ease into normalcy again. This time, she'd ask him out or kiss him stupid the moment she saw him. She'd hold his hand..

She squeezed the book at her chest. She was aching to touch him, just to feel him there beside her. The closest they'd ever been was that formal and it'd been much too brief. The memory of the way it'd felt to have his hands on her waist was starting to fade and there was nothing in the world that had compared to his cheek against her lips. She should've kissed him then, a real kiss, and maybe somehow none of this would've happened.

"Jack.." her voice was meek and broken as she glanced up, taking in her empty bedroom. It almost didn't feel real, this place she'd grown up in and that she saw every day of her life. It didn't feel safe, or familiar. The posters on the wall felt like strangers, the room at the corners felt too small and the whole of it felt too empty and open. The light seemed doubly artificial, more like a movie set than an actual bedroom. Her breath hitched. "Jack, I really miss you."

There wasn't any response. Of course there wasn't. Tears slipped down her face that somehow felt cold.

"And I'm really sorry," she said, squeezing at the book as if the boy himself would be able to feel it. "I- I didn't know. I didn't know anything." Not about what Andy had done, not about all the things he'd actually suffered through outside of what she saw at school. Her chest hurt. "We- we should've gotten dinner, after the dance. I..."

She trailed off, closing her eyes. How fucking stupid. He couldn't hear her and she knew it-- what more was there to say to an empty room? Trembling, she pressed her lips to the book again and bowed her head, waiting until it passed or she fell asleep one. It was going to be a long night.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Chris was shaking as she spat the words out, staring wide-eyed and wild at Andy. Just a moment ago she'd been sitting next to him, listening with a slowly sinking heart as he told her about Jonathan's love letter. That had stung, just a little bit. She'd spent the last few months of their time together pining hard over Jack Stone while he'd had his eyes on someone else. But that was fine, that wasn't his fault, and she would be happy to just be his friend, but before she could even fully process that, her heart wasn't sinking so much as dropping violently to the bottom of her stomach. She'd jerked away from Andy and stumbled a few steps across the floor, turning on him while she went through the stages of shock.

Andy looked ready to cry. His eyes were as wide as her own and his shoulders shook like he couldn't catch his breath. "Chris, I--"

"Shut up!" They were less words, more of a scream. If his parents had been home, she didn't doubt they'd hear them storming into the living room at that one. Not to demand anything of Andy, of course, he was perfect, to their eyes and everyone else's, but glad to finally have a reason to send her home, demand she never spoke to Andy again. Honestly, right now, that didn't sound too bad. Her vision starting to blur, she wrapped her arms around herself. "Why would you-- fuck! You're such a dick!"

"I know!" He yelled back. "Chris-!"

"No you don't!" There was real panic in his eyes, something she wasn't quite sure she'd seen there before. She'd seen sorrow and heartbreak and frustration and everything else in-between, but this was something like fear. She didn't like the way it made her chest tighten. "No you fucking don't, Andy! You- you fucking--" She choked, not quite breaking into tears yet, but close. She remembered Jack getting all beat up more clearly than she'd ever admit; it'd worried her to death and he wouldn't even talk to her for weeks after it'd happened. She'd been worried that she'd done something wrong, somehow, like she'd been insenstive or pushy and had pushed him right away from her when he could've used a friend. And she remembered Andy, too, the first time he'd ever really talked to her, asking if Jonathan Stone was alright.

God, she felt sick. Something heavy and aching settled in her gut, her gaze hardening into a glare. "Are- are we even really friends?" She asked, her voice bitter and her breath hitching. She watched the shock move over his face, turning panic and upset into something confused.

"What?" Andy shifted on the edge of the couch like he wanted to stand. "What do you mean?"

Chris' hands dug into her jacket at her sides. Her skin crawled. It'd been a little weird, hadn't it? Andy giving a shit. It'd surprised her to learn that he and Jack had been friends and maybe she shouldn't have ever taken it at face value. She shook her head. "You're such a dick!" She yelled again. "Did you ever even care about him? Or- or were you just guilty?" The tears started to spill, causing her to almost snarl as she continued on. She hated it- all those times Andy had seen her break, had carried her home and coaxed a laugh out of her. She wondered if it'd been some kind of act, at least at the start. Some half-hearted attempt to make himself less guilty by befriending Jack's stupid friend. "How much have you been lying to me?"

"I..." There was a look on his face that she recognized now. Pure and utter heartbreak, the kind of look he got when they'd driven out of the city for Rabbit's seventeenth birthday. They'd sat on the hood of his car in some field somewhere and had traded a beer back and forth, letting music play from the radio while they talked about the boy they were honoring. It'd been a sweet idea and a good memory, but right now she wished she'd never gone. "I didn't tell you about this, but that's it," he finally managed. "You've gotta understand, I was scared. And I- I thought..."

"Liar!" She shook her head again. "You- you hurt him! How could you fucking say you were friends? God, Andy, what if it's your fucking fault?"

He looked taken aback. "Chris-"

"Don't fucking talk to me! Don't you dare!" She yelled. She was taking a step back, realizing that she needed to go. She couldn't be around him any more. "He's dead! He's dead 'cause everyone treated him like shit and you were apart of that! What if it's your fault, Andrew?"

"Don't you think I've thought about that?" It was the thing that had finally gotten him to snap back. It went unnoticed, though, because Chris' eyes had widened. She wasn't even really looking at him, anymore.

In the year and a half since he'd gone, she'd never once really let herself consider the possibility that he was dead. But it'd slipped out as easy as nothing and suddenly the tears were coming on much stronger than before. Andy started to stand and move towards her, but she stumbled back with a frustrated noise that was mostly just a broken-sounding scream. Desperate to put distance between them, she ran for the front door and slammed it hard behind her, barely aware of anything she did until she was sitting at a stoplight on the way back to her own home, her hands gripping hard at the steering wheel. It dawned on her that she wasn't ever going to talk to Andy Campbell again.

[chrispyevcns]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 - 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

warnings: smut, handjob (m receiving), age-gap, stepdad! andy x reader, angst?, 18+ reader

summary: andy finds out what you did while away with your friends

a/n: do not steal my work, it’s all my own. 18+ only, minors do not interact!

——————

you walked into the house, hearing it settle once the door shut behind you. you knew he was home as you nervously awaited his appearance around the house. whether it be a kiss and hug from behind, or a normal greeting if your mother was around.

it was eating at you. not telling him sooner. how would he take it? would he be upset at you? would he take it out on you? maybe. a little voice in the back of your mind spoke back. you shook your head, removing any type of sexual thoughts that could come about from this situation. it wasn’t the time.

“hey y/n, you’re home early” a voice said, greeting you from the kitchen island.

“yeah, decided to get home before anyone saw i left” you responded.

“how’d it go over there?” your mother added, finishing up some dishes.

“it was fine” you answered.

after a while your mother retreated back to her room wanting to watch a movie before going to sleep. she invited andy, your stepfather, to join her as she began her walk upstairs. he refused so he could finish up some last minute work, but assured he would join her before the movie ended.

as andy sat typing away at his debilitating work from the office, he could see the shift in your demeanour. he could tell something was off.

“what’s wrong?” he asked.

“andy we need to talk” you spoke, your voice hitting a lower octave.

“about what?” he asked, his blue eyes scanning over you.

“i made a mistake, and i just don’t want you to be upset with me” you replied.

“okay, what is it?” he pondered, giving you the floor.

“a couple of my friends and i went out to a bar yesterday night, and we got a little bit tipsy. we decided to go meet some old friends and i saw my ex there. one thing led to another and he kissed me a bit before i pushed him away” you explained, hesitant about what was to come next.

andy’s jaw clenched.

“it didn’t mean anything, and i made sure to leave before anything else happened” you assured.

he was disappointed. you were his. he didn’t like you near any boys especially when it was him that had you begging on your knees. no boy could ever match up to that.

he didn’t reply to your story, just nodded and continued working.

“please don’t be mad at me” you pleaded, trying to get any type of reaction out of him.

as he continued to work you realised he was going to give you the silent treatment. typical. to you it just meant he didn’t care, but little did you know andy cared so much he just didn’t know what to do.

you walked over to him, taking a seat on the stool beside him.

“it really didn’t mean anything andy, i swear” you spoke, which seemed like forever.

“it’s ok y/n, it happens” he replied, keeping his gaze on his laptop.

he never called you by your name when your mother wasn’t around, that’s what you adored about your little relationship. it’s what you loved. it was always baby or sweetheart. he was clearly bothered. and you wanted to change that.

you let your hand slowly crawl up his thigh, the material of his pants grazing your palm. he tensed under your touch, and you knew at this point he was yours again.

“i’m sorry…daddy. i really am” you whispered out.

andy was trying to keep his composure, your hands working wonders by the obvious tent that was forming in his pants. rubbing over his bulge, you wanted more. and so did he.

you reached your hand underneath his pants, squeezing and grabbing his length, stroking him softly.

“oh my god” was all he could mouth, his eyes slowly closing and his head beginning to roll back.

he grabbed your face softly, kissing you passionately, as you continued stroking him under the table.

he was fully hard at this point, you continuing to jerk him off. the little moans you earned from him were enough to make you finish yourself. all those little noises. all for you.

“i’m cumming baby” he managed to moan out.

there it was. you were his again.

he finished into his pants, leaving an embarrassing spot on the front of them like a teenager.

“i’m sorry andy. i didn’t mean for the night to ever go the way it did yesterday” your soft voice spoke, resting your head on his shoulder.

“it’s okay baby” he breathed out, head slowly rolling to kiss the top of your head.

“just remember, i’m the only one that can get you to fall apart the way i do”

a/n: guys this is my first smut on tumblr, don’t hurt my feelings 😩

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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Sugar daddy fic (Some tags didn't work)

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[buckyownsmylife]

Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me.  I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame. 

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene -  I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay Chapter 4: Breach

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader, Senator!Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat

Chapter Warnings: Angst; Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse; Betrayal; Lies; F!Reader’s Age Kind of Finalized; Specific Reference to Age; Blackmail; Crying; Slight Panic Attack; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Chapter Summary: Even the truth can’t set you free.

Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3

Notes: And we’re back to pain. My outline got derailed for this chapter so bear with me, sometimes revelations need to be hammered in. No smut here for now but I also needed to get this arc finished so I can start on the next.

Also I know I keep jumping forward — I swear I will write about their relationship growing.

Thank you all for reading and commenting! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, even if you’re yelling at me.

Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

The air is…

Shifted.

Shifted enough that the whole office notices, avoids yours, avoids the glare Steve Rogers fires at them the moment they approach the door, avoids your eye. Shifted enough that you miss the before, the pressure of his presence demanding your attention, the smugness in his endless eyes you denied looking at.

Shifted.

Counsel.

What?

We need to talk.

Is that not what you’ve been avoiding doing all morning, Captain?

You swear you can hear his molar crack in the dead silence, but your eyes never flit upwards from the contract you’re poring through, red pen in hand.

Focus.

It’s a job, this life, and this is a part of it, the presence of him, the pressure of him. It’s a job, and he calls on you to do your duty and you do but no one has ever asked you to be kind and no one has ever asked you to smile as you bear it so you don’t.

It’s a job, this life, and this is a part of it.

You. Are a part of it.

Counsel.

It’s a bark, an order, an annoyance and you shouldn’t let his stubborn fury be the thing that derails you. This is your domain. Your palace of glass and steel, remember? New York buzzes behind you and you surge forward on the tightrope of his affections, teetering dangerously close to his temper and always, always daring him to pull you down.

Try it again.

Fine, with a sigh and a setting down of your papers, You’re closer to the door.

And in your defense, he is, seated on your couch as stiff as a board, scrolling through his phone on occasion and — previously, at least — deftly ignoring your inquiries about the status of his office and why he needs to spend his morning in yours.

He fixes you with a look you do not name and proceeds to stand anyways. The door clicks shut and stays that way — both of you have learned.

Do you still talk to him?

Excuse me?

The Senator. Are. You. Still. In. Contact.

He spreads out every word like an accusation and every word turns you a little colder. You’ve been avoiding this. Avoiding him, distracted by work, the both of you but now you are back in each other’s orbits and this…

This cannot be avoided.

I haven’t spoken to him beyond to tell him I returned home safe that night.

Not. For lack of wanting.

If he’s hurt you, just say the words.

There’s nothing you can say.

It’s been a week. Almost two.

He’s been kind, stayed away, kept his distance but that… that will not last. Only as long as whatever conference has his office busy and then you know what comes next and then you know what comes after.

The bruising may have faded but the memories remain, after all.

They always do.

Steve Rogers is not Andy Barber, is not warm-eyed concern or a soft-voiced invitation, is not trying to save you from the horrors you cannot name, is not to be trusted but Andy Barber is also not Steve Rogers, is not exactly the man you expect, is not the answer to your dilemma, is not the devil you know and you…

Are still testing your wings.

Get up.

Get up and walk away from the prison of your desk, see how far you can get before you shackle yourself to your own ambition. Get. Up.

Blue eyes watch you like he’s calculating the next angle of his attack and technically you know that’s exactly the case but let’s pretend a moment he doesn’t have his claws out and you aren’t trapped in a cage for him to batter.

Delude yourself into the power you think you have, and keep him there, across the room where he cannot show you how effortlessly he strips you of it and how deeply you enjoy it.

Don’t.

You may be in bed with the mob but you are not asleep to his crimes and this is just an interim, a plan, a moment.

You stood me up, Counsel. After we made our deal.

It was a week ago and you ever-so-kindly taught me my lesson — don’t wince as you speak, don’t let him know you remember, don’t let him think you actually learned from his hand, hard against your body.

He hasn’t since, after all.

He says your name.

He says your name and your blood runs cold and you freeze by the coffee machine you keep in your office and you turn. Senator Barber is a friend.

A dangerous friend. I won’t even ask if you know his stance on —

On the Syndicate? Oh I know. I know who he shakes hands with.

Then you know why I’m asking.

Are you loyal?

Are you?

Is it loyalty that keeps you here?

Don’t let your hands shake when you look at him. Don’t let him see the slide of your eyes, the glance outside, the wondering how long before your window would be a portal and that tightrope would snap.

You are not a fool.

This. Is not loyalty.

I keep to my ethical duties, Captain.

You’re sleeping with your boss.

Oh that one makes you laugh, sharp and cruel and you do look at him then, fix your eyes onto him and raise an eyebrow and watch. All that power, all that smugness, wrapped up in one body and how does he contain it, do you know?

I believe the actual term is serving at your pleasure.

It’s back to the game, the dance, the ruse, the steps you take around each other, the blades he digs into your chest the reminders he gives you you are a whore you are a whore you are a whore and you lift your chin up, dare him to look at the bruises his lips leave on your skin and ask him in the silence and what will you do about it.

You could hate him. You do, technically. You hate that you could love him in the early hours of the morning, when his eyes seek you out and soften at the reminder you’re still here. You hate that his invasive presence in your office is a shield as much as it is a virus, a comfort in the silence and you hate most of all that the way he looks at you with that open desire women might normally have just dreamed was possible makes you want to return it.

You hate that he is dangerous. That he has bound you to him like this, chained you to the idea of his warmth and that there is a sick sort of safety in the binding.

You hate that he looks at you now with something like hope, with something like obsession, with something like vulnerability and you hate that it strips you of that cold armor as effortlessly as his hands strip you of your resistance.

And he could hate you too, in the whispers he leaves on your shoulders when he thinks you’re asleep. He could hate that you are soft, that you are sweet on his tongue that you…

Are his.

Could hate that he has thought of nothing else but the very theory of your betrayal and you know none of these things but his eyes are not so inscrutable as he thinks and so—

He twists the knife.

I talked to your Judge, by the way.

You did what?

You heard me. Interesting conversation.

Excuse me?

You really sold yourself to me for a lover’s spat, Counsel? I thought you were better than that — woman of the law and all.

A lover’s spat? That’s what he told you?

Just what would you call it, if not that?

He’s daring you, back to somewhere between smug and angry, as if disappointed you made him waste his time and all you can do is feel your heart sinking, feel yourself back in that place again, the decade-long sting of control over your body, the painful reminder of the girl you once were.

Where is he?

Did you think I’d clean up your dirty laundry for you? I’m not a breakup counselor, and you nee—

You left him alive!? The panic in your voice is so palpable it stops him in his tracks all over again, suspicious and surprised and you step back to reach for something — steady yourself steady yourself steady yourself you are not safe you are not safe you are not safe.

I’m not killing your ex-boyfriend without a good reas—

I was nineteen!

The world tilts, shifts, your knees are buckling, that’s tears in your eyes and you.

Are that girl again.

Too small, too scared, too naive to know better, too easy to mold and break and manipulate and you promised you’d never be her again, you promised you’d get her justice and you promised it wouldn’t be like this over and over again, promised he wouldn’t sink his fangs into you a third time.

What? He sounds smaller. Or is it faraway? You are too busy trying to stand, trying to still the shaking of your hands, the cold chill in your veins, too busy feeling your knees surrendering, too busy sliding to the floor and staring blankly into your memory.

Counsel. What. Did. You. Say. He repeats himself, and then he’s crouching before you, holding your chin in his hand and when did you start having tears on your cheeks for him to wipe away?

I was nineteen, you repeat, blank and broken, not seeing his brow furrow, not seeing the regret flash over his expression, I didn’t want it. I never wanted it.

What are you saying, sweetness? How dare he sound so soft? How dare he sound like he actually cares, when he’s the reason you’re here, on this floor, barely resisting your breakdown yet again?

You know better.

I was nineteen, a third time, I needed a job, something to give me experience, and he — he used me. That was my experience.

He’s starting to understand, but it doesn’t matter to you, not when you’re staring too far into the past, into a sneering face and cruel hands.

(I can ruin you or I can help you, Intern, so you make your choice. You need me.)

It never stops. Not after the first time — but you know that.

But you know that. That’s your knife, the one you twist into his chest and the realization sinks in heavy as an anchor, the thing he’s done.

The thing he’s done to you.

So why wait until now?

I would have waited forever.

You hid the letter. Hid it well enough even he wouldn’t have found it rifling through your things. Hid the threat in those typewritten words and the casual signature swept across the stationary, unaffected.

Men like him never face consequences. Only you, only the women they make use of, the ones they turn into commodities for their enjoyment. Who would care if you’d made it public, if you showed the world the kind of man he was — he was appointed for life, he was friends with the Governor, he was powerful and you were never going to be strong enough.

(You wouldn’t want anyone in the District Attorney’s office knowing just the sorts of things you’re willing to do to get your way. I can still help you be an exceptional lawyer, Intern.)

What are you? Ambition and drive and skill but what does it all mean when it can be reduced to plaything and pet project and whore.

I helped him get appointed. He helped me get into law school. Introduced me to… To Andy Barber, who calls you Sunshine and watches out for you and comes to New York despite having no power in the state just to see you again because he worries, because he cares.

You pay.

And sometimes that payment bounces back.

You pay and you pay and you pay and you struggle but what is the culmination of your strife is it the sight of you finally broken on the floor, is it the moment he’s been waiting for, dragged off your pedestal why couldn’t he have left well enough alone didn’t he know the horse was for your protection and not his pride?

No.

They never do.

They never do, do they, always so wrapped up in themselves and even now he kneels in front of you and wipes your tears but he has no words to say to atone for what he’s done and you know he can never.

I need you to leave.

The words come out without your control.

You know what you are. You are fury made flesh and you will not be manipulated again, not by the pressure of his hands on your face, not by the way he almost hugs you, he lied he lied he lied he lied.

Sweetness…

No. You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.

You could have tolerated it. You could have accepted it you could have let yourself become the prize he took, owned his defeat by defeating you, you might even have enjoyed it but no.

No.

I held up my end of the bargain.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”