#andi drabbles

[andromidaeswrites]

prompt from @adriftwords: Instinctively ordering their takeout order. (full list here)

December 31, 11:50pm 1999 - New York City

Aziraphale knocks firmly but still rather meekly on the drab little door of Crowley's flat. New York City is an entirely different creature to London and he feels so out of sorts. Still. This is where Crowley is planning terrible things for the humans again, and so this is where Aziraphale must be.

Crowley opens the door and seems unsurprised to see Aziraphale, shades reflecting the yellow hallway light. There's a white phone shouldered against his ear. Who on Earth is he speaking to? He absently twirls some of the cord around his finger.

"Ah, yes, hi," he says this with a grin at Aziraphale. "Can I have three slices of spicy chicken cheese and also two cheese light marinara sauce. Please don't get those confused or you'll have a devil of a time later." He winks.

Aziraphale rolls his eyes as Crowley disappears into the flat, and he barges through the threshold in pursuit. "Are you quite done?"

"What? Everyone's always talking about the pizza here, figured we might as well try it. Plus it was the only thing open this late, what with everyone being afraid of the end of the world and all. You know, for someone who can't stand hellfire, you enjoy some very spicy food."

"You can't cause Armageddon yet, this Y2K thing—"

Crowley laughs. "Oh, that? Yeah, bit of fun, isn't it? Was an accident, actually. I was speaking to some kid on the internet through some chat group and asked wouldn't it be scary if all this new technology went away in the year 2000 because we didn't account for it. I didn't think it was an actual thing." The demon shrugs.

There's a television on in the center of the room. The ball in Times Square is about to begin its descent. Crowley gestures to a disgustingly old blue couch with holes and stains. "Well? Let's see if that ineffable plan factored in the new millennium."

With an indignant hmph, Aziraphale sits. The two watch the countdown nervously. Crowley isn't so amused anymore as the final seconds tick, tick, tick. Five, four, three, two...

There's a knock at the door. Both angel and demon give a yelp.

"Pizza," a bored voice yells.

"That was fast," Crowley mutters, standing.

The power is still on, the music on the television continues, the announcers seem equally relieved. Aziraphale gives a little laugh. "Well, I suppose trying a slice or two won't hurt."

[fandomfloozy]

nsfw mdni

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

jason: what?

y/n: just lookin'

jason: you look like you got something to say

y/n: [shakes head] mm-mm

jason: you sure?

y/n: ...well...

jason: tell me

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

jason: pfft. you? embarrassed?

y/n: perish the thought

jason: so lay it on me

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

jason: babe...

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

jason: sweetheart, just spit it out--

y/n: i wanna suck your dick so bad

jason: ...

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

~°•*~

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

[jaehyvno]

thinking about bf!haechan who loves reminding people you're his. bf!haechan who doesn't really get jealous, but also is possessive. bf!haechan who tells you "dress however you want baby, i'll fight off the creeps for you". bf!haechan who brings you to a party, and introduces you to all his friends. bf!haechan who shows you off smugly, finding people that admire you more amusing than threatening. he doesn't leave you alone for a moment, side glued to yours, and hand glued to your waist. sometime during the party, he pulls you to the side and fixes your clothes for you. you smile at the innocent enough action, not knowing he just wanted to make sure the 'h' necklace you're wearing is visible enough. bf!haechan who brings you a drink but doesn't give it to you. slaps off your hands, and instead takes a hold of your chin to tilt your head back. "say 'ah'," he says with a shit eating grin, as he tips the drink down your throat, knowing anyone that had their eye on you tonight would know not that he's not playing when it comes to you. bf!haechan who pouts when you call him out on his behavior the whole day and says, "i can't help the fact that everyone wants you, but i can let them know that you're mine, can't i?

also thinking of bf!haechan who doesn't hesitate to let people know he's yours. bf!haechan who flashes the matching rings he got for the two of you at anyone who tries flirting with him, claiming he's married. bf!haechan who says “my partner kills people. get away!” to your utmost annoyance and amusement. who lets you do his nails and gets your initials on them. who parades around with you as his lockscreen and homescreen. who's social media is just a shrine for you. bf!haechan who just smiles when his friends tease him, claiming that he's wrapped around your finger. bf!haechan who brags about you to anyone who is willing (or unwilling) to listen. who goes on and on about you until every single person he's associated with knows that he's taken and in a committed relationship with you.

a/n: this was literally fueled by my need to put something out on this account since i post nothing here :( and also a singular haechan clip from the momentum tour's bangkok stop. i am actually so down bad for haechan it's crazy. requests/asks and taglist is open <3

[eccentricallygothic]

Psycho Husband!Steve Rogers who is a crazed coercive bastard.

Warning(s): Noncon, misogyny/sexism, depraved housewife kink, head shaving/hair cutting, he's a mental mf who thinks he is only doing what's best for you; cruel punishments are care and better sense according to him, age gap, fear kink, infantilization, humiliation, size kink. MDNI. 

. . .

You meekly sit atop your husband, Steve Rogers' lap as he feeds himself and you the dinner you meticulously prepared for him as he cares greatly for detail and perfection. 

The older man hums with each bite, one large paw caressing your back from over the thin -nearly sheer- material of one of the many dresses that make up the entirety of your wardrobe. 

“Absolutely delicious, baby, good job” he has been praising you with each bite and so you cannot help but smile at the compliments, your smaller body resting against his as you gently comb his hair with your fingers.

This is good.

Him being pleased is good.

“Thank you, my heart” you kiss his cheek that he had shaved just this morning when you were on your knees getting rid of his morning wood. He usually does that at night but you chose to wear a certain dress yesterday that caused for you to remain trapped in bed from the moment he got home till the both of you woke up tangled and sticky.

“See?” Now his fingers silkily glide up the length of your spine, past its dents that appear on your nape and towards your scalp that holds no barriers between your skins. “Wasn't I right?” Steve's fingertips flex all over your shiny head that he keeps empty from any hurdle between yourself and him. “Didn't it make things all better for us, hm?” Your tongue grows heavy and you feel it beginning to swell.

But you must not speak your mind.

For you are not allowed to have one.

“Yes, hubby, you were” you feel him stroke the bald crown of your head and the feeling of his coarse skin rubbing your soft and moisturized one sends shivers down your spine. 

His dark but relaxed blue eyes watch you, outwardly friendly but secretly inspecting you closely for the tiniest slip up. “Just too stupid to see it back then, weren't you?”

You nod nervously, offering him a smile as you avert your gaze from his, choosing to awkwardly play with his dress shirt instead. “Yes, hubby, I was.” Before you look up momentarily. He hates it when you don't look at him while speaking. “Thank you for teaching me better.” 

“And what did I teach you?” You bite your tongue, his words scalding your ears. 

Of course, he wants you to say it.

It is a routine that he likes to do every night. 

“That you are always right because you know better.” You resist the urge to cringe from how he suddenly gives you a burst of praise head rubs. 

It is a trap, meant to set you off.

He knows you don't like his hand rubbing your bald head like you're some kind of an animal and he still does it.

You've made the mistake of fighting back one too many times in the past.

But now you know it never fares well for you.

So better to just obey.

“Yeah?” His eyes begin to dance all over your form in that lewd fashion of theirs. “And how did I teach you that?” This is nothing new, and yet your heart drops.

“You taught me by…” Your face becomes hot from the embarrassment and humiliation. “B- By…” Fuck.

Even after all this time, it's no easier to do it. 

“By?” You can feel his sick arousal poke into the back of your thigh. He shifts to readjust himself. “Know what, honey?” He actually has the gall to sound friendly like he's doing you a favor out of the goodness of his heart. “I'll help your little mind out by giving you a hint.” You cannot hold his gaze anymore. So you drop your eyes and train them on his collars as you whimper into his cheek from how he hugs you closer with the arm he has draped around you. He loves proximity. “It had something to do with a machine and a cute head” his long fingers caress your scalp in circular motions.

Your heart is erratic against his chest. “H–” the whimper you let out is shaky and pathetic. Your expression falters into one of pain but you recover just as fast. At least on the outside. “T- Taught me by shaving my head.”

Steve's smirk is one of pride. “Oh? And what setting did I shave it on? Did I leave anything behind or did you become a complete cueball?” 

Tears sting your eyes from the sensitivity and helplessness as you feel your throat tighten even more. “N- No, hubby. Nothing was left. You shaved it all off…” Closing your eyes momentarily is the only way you can let out your next words. “Until I was a cueball.”

“And why was that, huh, baby?” Now he speaks to you like you're a child. 

He does that when he is horny. 

The realization makes your stomach twist.

“B- Because you warned me many times but—” your voice breaks and you softly sob into his cheek all of a sudden because the memories overwhelm you. “I didn't l- listen and my hair kept getting in the food I would prepare for you.” He somberly cooes and lowers your head forwards in a submissive position to caress the links of your spine.

“Oh, honey. Is that what happened?” Though Steve rests his cheek atop your bald head that he keeps shiny with scented oils and feigns sadness his bulge is too stiff against your tender skin for his little act to hold any weight. 

“Yes, hubby.” Your tears fall on your lap. 

“And how did it happen, huh, darling?” He loves the helplessness of your situation. That has got to be it. “Can you tell me?”

You nod and swallow the bile in your throat. Denial is not an option. “The scary razor went all over my head, hubby” you make yourself sound like a baby because that's what he likes. “Like buzz buzz buzz~” you try to mimic the sound and gesture as you run a pretend trimmer over your naked scalp. 

“Aw, it was scary for your little baby self, was it?” You timidly nod, pouting a little. “That's because you're so small and easily scared, aren't you?” He presses kisses all over your head and pinches your cheek. 

“Yes, hubby.” 

“Aw, my poor girl” he cups your face and lets his thumb trace the shape of your mouth. “I get it, you’re just a baby” he cannot but kiss you deeply before speaking again. 

“But it was necessary, wasn't it? And it worked” it is typical of him to seek validation for his unhinged actions from you, probably helps him sleep easier and pumps his pompousness further. “No more hair in the food.” He smiles and forces you to look at him by tipping your head back.

“No more hair in the food.” You echo him like the hollow doll he has made of you.

“Awww” he chuckles at the dejection in your voice. “Cheer up, silly. You look just as perfect as the first moment I laid my eyes on you” his lips repeatedly peck yours for a few moments. Then he continues. “I am the only one whose opinion matters for you and I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive” he scoops you up in his arms before standing up and you give him a smile like you're supposed to. He leans in to capture it in his own. “The cueball only makes you sexier and more nude for me. So it's a win all around” you whimper into the words he utters against your mouth. “C'mon, hubby will make you feel all better.” He whispers before carrying you to the bedroom. It is impossible not to be aware of your devastation and that is why he offers compensation the way he does. “Yeah?”

All you can do is nod defeatedly.

. . .

If you made it down here, hi you're cool. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Surprises 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, cheating/established relationships, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Andy Barber, side of Mike Weiss

Summary: You have a baby on the way but it's not the only surprise.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You inch the door open and wince. You knocked once but no answer came. You’re surprised to find someone within. You rap again with your knuckles, that time on the door frame. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Barber,” you say, “you mind?” 

He sits up straight. He clears his throat as he forces his shoulders high, resuming his usual rigid posture. He’s of the few attorneys there that acknowledges you. He nods. 

“Uh, sure,” he wiggles the mouse and clicks. “Come on in.” 

You open the door wider and cross the office to his desk. You pick up the wastebasket beside it, holding back a grunt as your waist band presses tightly beneath your belly. You carry the bin to the cart at the door and dump it. It’s just coffee cups and crumpled paper, a wrapper from an egg wrap. The thought of eggs makes you nauseous. 

“Need the break,” he rubs his eyes as you near him again. “Eyes are getting fuzzy.” 

“Oh no,” you humour him. You hold the cloth in your hand, “you mind?” 

“Go ahead,” he rolls his chair back. 

“So sorry, sir, I'm running behind today.” You wipe around his keyboard and mouse. You pause and hover over a wrapper for a protein bar. “All done with this?” 

“Um, yeah,” he answers. 

You smile and scoop up the wrapper with a crinkle. “No problem.” 

Your back spasm and you suck in a sharp breath. You rub between your hips as you retreat. You feel him watching you. 

“You... alright?” 

“It’s so sweet of you to ask,” you preen as you go back to the cart and toss the wrapper. “I’m just fine.” 

You go to the book shelf and clean around the awards, the decorative gavel, and statue of Lady Justice. You feel him watching still. A few people have noticed despite you borrowing Mike’s shirts. Even those are starting to cling. 

“You’re... expecting,” he guesses correctly. 

You drag the cloth over a shelf, “I am.” 

“I’m sorry if that’s...” 

“Nah, it’s okay. I just don’t like anyone fussing over me,” you assure him. “All tidy, isn’t it?” 

You step back and admire your work. The wheels of his chair roll over the mat. 

“Why don’t you sit? Take a load off?” He offers. 

You face him and smile. He’s so nice. He spends all that time working and he’s still worried about you. You’re just the cleaner. You know well how stressful law work can be. You barely see your boyfriend with him running around the public courts. 

“Really, Mr. Barber, I still got the rest of the floor to do.” 

“I remember when Laurie was expecting,” he says. “She was exhausted all the time.” 

“I can manage. I’m not too far. Three months is all.” 

“You really shouldn’t be doing so much,” he keeps his hand on the chair. “Not in your condition.” 

“My doctor says it’s good,” you argue. “I really appreciate you worrying for me, but I’m fine. Really.” 

He looks at you. The same way Mike does. They reflect each other in certain ways. They’re always so serious. They don’t like to be told no and they win most arguments. It’s probably why they do what they do. 

“Well,” he sighs, his hand going to his hip. That posture defines him. It underlines his age. At least ten years older than Mike, who’s got a couple on you himself. “If you need somewhere to sit down, you come back here.” 

“Oh, Mr. Barber,” you smile. “That’s so kind.”  

You back to the door and tuck the dust cloth away. You get behind the cart as he follows. “Should you be pushing that around?” 

“It’s not much,” you roll it back and forth. “Paper and sponges.” 

He nods, his lips thinned in disapproval. That’s why you don’t tell anyone. They treat you different. And Mike doesn’t want his family to know yet. He says his mom will want you to marry first but he hasn’t even asked yet. 

“You should be on accommodated duty. You know, I dealt with a few labour cases?” He insists. 

“Mr. Barber,” you chide softly. “You got enough to worry about.” 

You roll the cart away, down to Mr. Logiudice’s door. It’s already opens. He greets you with a flick of his fingers as he holds his phone to his ear. You clean quietly, certain not to disturb his call. 

As you leave, Mr. Barber is still by his door. He stares at you for a moment before he retreats into his office. You hope you didn’t bother him too much. 

You finish up your rounds and dump the bag in the dumpster. You stay outside for your break, sitting at the picnic table near the corner of the building. You drink water and chew on crackers. The baby is picky. Your breakfast ended up in the sink. 

“Ahem,” the deep noise draws your eyes up as you stare at your phone. Mike’s busy. Not answering. 

“Oh, Mr. Barber.” You blink at the attorney in his grey jacket. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He asks. 

You look down at your long-sleeved shirt. 

“Baby’s got me running hot,” you shrug. 

“Hmm, I just ran out to the coffee place,” he points over his shoulder. “Slow day.” 

“It’s not so bad,” you look up at the grey clouds. 

“They had a special. Muffin and coffee for three bucks,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white bag stamped with the cafe logo. “I just needed the caffeine.” 

He has a cup in his other hand as he sets the bag on the table close to you. You look at it, then him. You find his eyes on your phone. You peer down and find your conversation with Mike still open. Still no reply. 

“Thanks, uh,” you pull the bag closer. “I’ll save it for after work.” Odds are, you’ll give it to Mike. The smell of cinnamon is already sickening. 

He gives another flat hum. His blue eyes search you. “Too early? You don’t know if it’s a girl or boy?” 

You shake your head, “not yet. Don’t think I’ll ask.” 

“Oh,” he clucks. “Laurie had to know. Had the nursery done two months early.” 

“A lot to figure out,” you agree and stand, gathering up your phone and snack. “Gotta get back to it so I can buy the baby a crib, huh?” 

He’s quiet. He walks with you back to the building. You feel him glancing at you repeatedly. He opens the door for you and you thank him. 

“Least I can do,” he says. 

[hanasnx]

INDY I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU TO INDY-FY ANDY BIERSACK HE WAS MY FIRST CELEBRITY CRUSH I NEED HIM SO BAD -🍊

“ EVERYTHING’S CLEAN EXCEPT FOR MY THOUGHTS ” — andy biersack.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader | dom andy | size difference | sexual content | established relationship | p in v | mating press | spitting | use of good girl.

Something about ANDY BIERSACK has you thanking the evolution of human anatomy to create a specimen so pretty. Everything from his batting dark lashes when he blinks, to his filling ribcage when he takes a breath has you mesmerized. Even his long and nimble fingers captivate you, especially when they pinch your jaw to tuck your chin in the web, all to angle you up to look at him as he towers over you. "What're you lookin' at, pretty?" he purrs, an amused curl to his plump lips as he searches your spacey expression.

"I like you." you tell him, that same spacey way about you. Lost in thoughts about the events of last night and devising a plan to recreate them.

Endeared, Andy scoffs through his nose at such an innocent confession, one he knows all too well. "Yeah?" he asks anyway, goading you on to keep telling him what he already knows. "Yeah, baby, you like me?" That clamp on your cheeks tightens, squishing your lips together while you nod, brows upturning from the motion shooting straight to the space between your legs. His smile only stretches, embossing his subtle dimples as he gazes at you through his lashes. The act of his head held high when you have such distance between your heights makes you feel infinitely smaller.

"I really do." you respond to his shameless bait, and your lips in this position muffle your words so in turn he chuckles at you. That grin of his makes you go weak in the knees, held up by his grip on you. He leans in—and very sweetly—plants a kiss on your pliant lips that are unable to pucker further than he's manually forcing them to.

That little move he does to you manifests in other circumstances apart from heart-warming exchanges of PG kisses. Later on that night when he's got you on your back, he tucks your cheeks between his fingers and thumb again for a different purpose. "How you feelin', sweets?" he asks, voice husky from effort as his full body flexes with the endeavor of fucking you, having folded you over yourself to get at your hole. Your ankles have found their rightful home on his shoulders, plowing into you while his lips hang open watching yours be pried apart.

The tips of his fingers dig in, effectively separating your jaws as you flinch from both the ache in your buccal and the stretch of your pussy accommodating his length. His weight gradually presses you further into the mattress, and you feel the burn in your thighs from your flexible position. Unable to form words with your occupied mouth—quickly drying as you pant hard through it—you moan out various "uh-huhs" enough for that dreamy grin to reappear on his handsome features. Draped over you, his hair and silver chain alike flop with each roll of his hips. His tongue peeks out to moisten his lips, and he constricts your breathing room as he lays atop you, close enough for his nose to brush yours. You recognize the ripple in his jaw, and you know exactly why he's got a hold on yours now.

Obediently, you raise your head as he reaches for you, forming a gob of spit only to spit it directly into your willing mouth. That ache in your face doesn't subside as he keeps it open, watching with interest as you take his spit and let it slide down the pad of your tongue. Only when he twists his wrist to palm the underside of your chin and shut your trap do you swallow like the good girl he knows you are.

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Backwoods AU

A Special Sort of Craving (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

The Detour (Thor, MCU)

The Stranger (Chris, Destroyer)

Forget-Me-Not (Loki, MCU)

The Farmer’s Daughter (Walter Marshall, Night Hunter)

The Rebound (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

Second Best (Lee Bodecker, The Devil All the Time)

Crossed Wires (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob & Cole Turner, Ghosted)

Daddy Lesson (Rafe Cameron, OBX, Outer Banks)

All Things End (Arvin Russell, The Devil All the Time)

THTH (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

Called To Duty (Captain Syverson, Sand Castle)

Unmanageable (Pete Brenner, Pain Hustlers)

A Place in the Sun (Nick Fowler, The 355)

[babyjakes]

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

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | sex shop

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

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

word count | 987

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

imagine going to a sex shop for the very first time, aalllll by yourself, and meeting a very handsome dilf who helps you pick out your very first big girl toy 😏

parking as far away as possible (it’s at the end of a little strip mall in a tiny little town you’ve never been to before, you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone you knew!) spending like 10 minutes just sitting in your car hyping yourself up, you’re so nervous but you’ve wanted to do this for so long 🥺

eventually you build up your courage and make your way up the parking lot, to the front door of the place. a little silvery bell rings as you enter. you’re surprised at how clean and neat the place is. you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is better than you had been hoping. it’s not too big, a single large room with a counter in the middle. at first glance, you're alone, no other customers or employees in sight

the store has different sections with hanging signs directing you where to go. you can feel heat rising in your cheeks as you pass the racks of lingerie and intimates. just as you make it over to the toys for her section, you hear something from across the little shop. looking over, you see someone has entered through a doorway in the back. a man, but you don’t get too long of a look. your eyes quickly drop to the ground as you feel your embarrassment worsening

please don’t come over here. please don’t come over here. please don’t-

your silent prayers are ignored as footsteps approach. you take a step back from the wall of products, forcing yourself to look up at the stranger. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him, oh god, you’re thinking to yourself, why is he hot 😭

there andy stands in all of his glory, the epitome of dilfy deliciousness with his worn navy t-shirt and scruffy beard. scratching his head a bit awkwardly, he greets you, “hey, sorry. didn’t meant to startle you. can i help you find anything?”

your heart’s pounding in your throat as you look around stupidly before your eyes return to the absolute unit of a man before you. you blink like a deer in the headlights. oh my god. he works here, you’re a little slow to put things together

andy sees your surprise, letting out a gentle chuckle. “i’m the owner,” he explains. “you okay, honey? you look like you’ve seen a ghost”

a part of you knows this is an extremely sketchy situation. you’re alone in a sex shop with a dude probably twice your age (who apparently owns the place), out in a town you can’t remember the name of, with nothing to defend yourself except your two bare hands (which are now shaking)

but there’s something about the man before you that you just find so… warm? disarming? (…attractive? 😳) the gentle smile on his face, the way he softens his voice when he senses your nervousness...

you’re a little ball of conflicting feelings, half nerves and half head-over-heels for this unknown man. again, you blink, unable to find your voice to respond

“you’re alright, just take it easy,” he tries to help you relax. “this your first time in a place like this?” all you can manage is a nod. he gives you an understanding smile, “that’s perfectly fine. i’m here to help. can you tell me what you’re looking for, sweetheart?”

your eyes glance quickly back at the wall of toys in front of you before returning to him. he must see the increasing humiliation on your face. “u-um…” you’re finally able to stutter, “i-i don’t… i’m not… i guess i'm…”

he’s so patient and attentive it’s only making the butterflies in your tummy worse 😭 “not sure where to start?” he finishes for you. when you nod, he hums thoughtfully, “that’s okay, honey. do you have anything already that you like? is this for you to use on your own?"

you grit your teeth, nodding through the waves of embarrassment. “d-don’t have anything, sir. looking for something to start out with”

“i see,” he nods, looking over the selection on the wall before the two of you. “a bullet is a great beginner toy. simple, quiet, different levels of intensity to fit your needs. do you like clitoral stimulation?”

you have to fight yourself to keep from rubbing your thighs together right then and there 😩 something about the way he’s talking you through everything is sooo 🥲🥲 a feeling of dread hits as you realize you’re already getting wet

you force out a nod. he looks at a few options before picking out a small, discreet box. offering it to you, he explains, “this one’s my favorite. it’s nice and smooth, hard to hurt yourself with. rechargeable, medical-grade silicon. six levels of intensity. and the pink matches your nails,” he says sweetly, nodding at the shiny polish on the tips of your fingers

you clumsily accept the box, looking it over briefly. “there are instructions on the inside. the internet can be helpful too,” he suggests. the burning in your tummy worsens as he sees right through you, sniffing your complete innocence and inexperience with ease

“o-okay. this looks good. thank you,” you agree

“of course,” he nods with a sheepish smile. “once you get comfortable with that, we can work you up to something more sophisticated” you never implied that you’d be returning to him, but now that he’s said it, you know you couldn’t refuse. “and if you have any trouble, you can always come see me. i got a room in the back, we can take some time and find what works for you”

i might have to write that follow-up visit someday this is making me 🫠🫠

[lookingformoondrop]

OMG FINALLY SOMEONE WHO WRITES ABT THE COFFIN OF ANDY AND LEYLEY AAA

Honestly I'd take any writing about Andy LMFAO whatever you want to write, I'd just love to read something, be it headcanons or some short story <3

Absolutely! I was shocked when I tried finding content for TCOAAL, and there was none💀. For the sake of fluff Andy, the reader is the closest thing Andy has to a sister!

*Leyley doesn't exist*

P.S. Hopefully, this isn't OOC. This is also not proofread, so

I hope these meet your expectations <3

Andrew Graves x female best friend! Reader

TW: Everyone has a filthy mouth (swearing)... N/M = Nickname ♡

♡925 WORDS♡

Ever since Andrew was a kid, he was treated more as his parent's friend than their kid.

This often meant that Andrew was forced to miss out on childish routines like throwing a tantrum, making a mess, having fun the loud way, and making mistakes, simply because "he was so easy."

If he were to add to his parents' load of problems, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, let alone sleep.

But that was all before he met you.

Every Friday, Mrs. Graves would give Andrew money to go on a snack run for the weekend.

But no matter what he did, no matter when or how he entered the grocery store, this little girl (no less than five) would terrorize Andrew.

"She's so annoying, mom! She always snatches the snacks I go for and then bolts for the next aisle. Then she just giggles and runs away with MY TOMATO SOUP."

Mrs. Graves sighed and turned around to face her son, "Andrew, just because a little five year old girl is taking some of the same snacks as you DOES NOT MEAN I am letting you shop at a different store! 'Shop Shop Shop and Shop, with more Shop' is the best for low-deals and prices. Please don't be difficult."

With no other choices, Andrew was forced to continue shopping.

Every week, she did the same thing. She'd sneak up behind him when he wasn't paying attention. She'd snatch the poor snack out of Andrew's hand and would bolt out of the aisle.

And everytime she did this, Andrew would grow angrier and angrier.

Finally, when the little girl stole the hundredth can of soup from his hand, Andrew turned around and grabbed the little girl's hair.

"AHH! Get off of me asshole!"

"You little shit! Give me that can back!"

They'd fight over the can of soup in the middle of the aisle for the next 10 minutes before the store owner kicked them out for "public disturbances."

Now, without his can of soup, sitting at the curb outside the store, with new bite marks along his arm, Andrew was more pissed than ever.

"What the hell is your problem? Do you just find malicious torment funny, you borderline psycho?"

Andrew turned towards the girl. She turned her smile towards Andrew, "Nah, just you."

Annoyed and exhausted, he put his face in his hands.

She thought for a moment , "No one plays with me, so I figured I should play with someone who looked as miserable as me."

Andrew looked at her through his fingers, "What about me screamed misery?"

She put a finger on her bottom lip, deep in thought, "You just have this face,"

Andrew scoffed at the girl, burying his face in his knees. She giggled.

"You just naturally look like an asshole"

"Watch your language, you fucking shit!"

Andrew went to grab the girls hair, "You dont even know my name, and yet you're calling me an asshole!? No wonder you dont have any friends."

She slapped Andrew's hand before it could reach her, "Well, what's your name?"

Andrew hesitated, "It's...Andrew Graves. What's yours?"

The little girl smiled, "Y/N L/N, your new best friend, Aaaaandy."

Andrew sat lazily with Y/N, laying on his lap. He cringed when he thought about their first meeting.

Of all the things they could've fought about, it was a can of soup... God, they're fucking stupid.

Since that day, Y/N would beg Andrew for attention and fun. She'd stalk him when he was out and about and would drag him away from any errands he was requested to run on.

"Leave me alone, N/M"

"Make me~"

"Please?"

"Lame. Now I have to come with you! With that bitch ass attitude you'll get beat up."

"Great."

And when Andrew accidentally reveal his address? Andrew was permanently stuck with Y/N.

Every Friday, she'd follow Andrew home, and even when Mr. and Mrs. Graves questioned the foul-mouth girl Andrew would never offer an explanation better than, "Some stray I picked up that won't let go. I have to keep her."

"Aaaaandyyy, can you change the channel? I don't want to lift my eyelids."

Andrew sighed, "The remote is right by your leg, dumbass"

"So?" She scoffed, "reach it for me."

"It's closer to you than it is to me!"

"Andy change the goddamn channel!"

"i'm not getting up just because your ass wants to be lazy!"

"ANDREW"

"Y/N"

Even if that meant pissing each other off with meanless schemes.

Despite their bickering that has made local pedestrians' ears bleed, they still were there for each other in everything.

"Whatever, you dumb bastard," Y/N mumbled to herself.

Andrew played with Y/N's hair as he stared at the mindless TV.

"Veronica Steveson asked me out to the date."

"Aw, poor hussy"

"Ouch, you think so lowly of me?"

"No, I just assumed you said no," Y/N continued to watch the TV.

"Why would I...?" Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Y/N sat up and stared at him with intense eyes.

"Do you like her?"

"W- Well no, but it's not like any other girls are crawling to date me"

Y/N scoffed at Andrew, flicking his forehead, "That's because you're stupid to notice."

She laid back down on his lap, and Andrew secretly smiled to himself. "So...who aren't I noticing?"

"Your mom."

"Y/N GROSS!"

And even if no one admitted it out loud, and even if you blushed one too many times around each other, you belonged with each other.

"But seriously, Andy, pass me the remote"

"Eat shit, N/M"

Thank you for the ask <3

[capsiclecevans]

"come to bed with me"

Warnings: fluff, a little emotional, AU where Jacob did die at the end of Defending Jacob

Summary: Andy and Reader are reeling from your first major argument after moving in together and try to deal with the issue together.

Word Count: 1,291

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

⭐︎ ashleigh’s masterlist ⭐︎ | ☾ ashleigh’s taglist ☽

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It had been going on for hours now, the screaming and fighting. You and Andy had argued before this, but not this much. You had never seen Andy this angry before, over something he hasn’t even told you about yet. He was in a foul mood when he had gotten home from work, probably a run in with Neil (again), but he hadn’t told you what it was about. He had scolded you for even being near him when he was in this mood which you pushed back, making his anger rise more than you have ever seen it rise before. 

You were sat on the couch quietly, wiping your silent tears away as you stare at the fireplace, trying to listen to where Andy was in the house. Hoping that you won’t have to speak to him until tomorrow, when his mood might have improved and he has realised that he took his anger out on the wrong person. Heck, if it came to it you would even sleep on the couch or in the spare bedroom if you really had to avoid him and his temper. 

It was the first major argument you have had with Andy since you have moved in with him. You didn’t expect that you would have one that would be blown out of proportion just because Andy was in a bad mood from work. You knew that he didn’t mean to take his anger out on you but you were the only one in the house for him to do so. Maybe, this is what happened when he was with Laurie, maybe this is how she felt? But they were a happy family, weren’t they? Until she ruined everything after Jacob’s trial, killing him because she didn’t believe that he was truly innocent, making Andy leave her and in turn fall in love with you. 

He went out for a run to “calm down”, hopefully he will be in a bit of a better mood but that hadn’t happened as he slammed the door when he walked in, stalking upstairs to have a shower as you made dinner for you both quietly. That was 20 minutes ago and he is still to appear downstairs.

You sigh a little to yourself, moving off the couch to go and grab a blanket, wanting to alleviate the chill you felt from his mood. Usually Andy always tried to cuddle with you once he was back from a run as a joke, knowing that he was sweaty and needed a shower first. But, for the first time since living together, he didn’t. 

You weren’t even sure what was playing on the TV as you were just thinking about the shouting match you both had when he arrived home, you were so inside your own head and thoughts that you didn’t hear Andy walk downstairs slowly to come and find you as it was later than expected and you were usually getting ready for bed by now. 

You finally look up at your boyfriend when he sits next to you slowly, his hair still damp from his shower and the most guilty look on his face. His anger seems to have evaporated whilst he was in the shower. You hadn’t been able to stop crying since he left for his run and the look on his face just breaks your heart as he can see the tears in your eyes. 

“Oh baby…” He murmurs before cupping your cheeks in his hands to wipe away the tears away with his thumbs slowly “I am so sorry that I made you cry…I am sorry that I shouted at you…I am so sorry…” He whispers as he focuses on your tears. 

You close your eyes as he takes gentle care whilst holding your face in his hands. Taking a deep breath before opening your eyes to look at him, you melt into his touch slowly. Your Andy was back and you were eternally grateful as you knew that you would not have been able to not join him in your bed. 

“I have never seen you that angry…” You whisper as you look back at Andy and he nods slowly. A frown graces his face as he remembers how he treated you when he arrived home from the worst day at work he has had in a while. 

He lets a long breath before nodding slowly, his eyes flicking back to yours and he pulls you into his arms. His embrace was comforting, even though he was the one who made you feel like this. “Neil wants to look at Jacob’s case again, the Rifkin’s still do not believe that Jacob is innocent in Ben’s murder…” He says as he holds you close. You could hear the anger in his voice, his son was dead because his own mother didn’t believe him when he said he was innocent, and now the case was going to be looked at again to put the blame on a dead 14-year-old when he was found not guilty originally. 

Andy’s anger earlier was completely justified now you know why he was kicking off. He was going to have to re-live one of the most traumatising parts of his life again, and his son’s death because no-one believed that his son was innocent. Apart from the two of you. When Andy opened up and told you about those traumatic months of his life, you knew that he had fought for his son’s innocence with every fibre of his being, and you believed him when he said that Jacob was innocent. You just knew. You knew that Andy wasn’t lying when he said that Jacob was innocent. 

“Oh Andy…” You say and you look at him sadly, stroking his cheek gently as you watch his reaction carefully. He seems to relax a little as you stroke his cheek, like you were his rock, his support system. “I am so sorry that you have to re-live everything that happened to you and Jacob again, to prove his innocence yet again…that isn’t right what they are doing…” 

Andy sighs and nods before pressing a light kiss to your head as he holds you closer to him, neither of you knew what to say now. Andy’s life was going back under the microscope when it shouldn’t be. 

“Come to bed with me…” 

He said it so softly that you wouldn’t have been able to catch the five words out if the TV wasn’t muted and you weren’t cuddled up to him in his lap. A small smile plays on your lips as you realise that he does still want to share a bed with you tonight, even after the argument you had when he arrived home. 

You look up at him through your lashes before pressing a kiss to his stubble. “Of course I will…I would go anywhere with you…” You whisper against his skin in a promise that you would not be looking at breaking any time soon, since you were deeply in love with the man that you were sharing this house with. 

Andy’s smile is small when he looks down at you, his eyes glistening with tears before he nods and stands up from the couch, holding his hand out for you to take and head up to bed with him. 

You look at him before taking his hand, standing up with him and walks up to your bedroom, knowing that the fight wasn’t over, but you were glad the fight wasn’t between you and Andy anymore. It was against the two of you and the rest of the world who want to contest Jacob’s innocence when he is no longer here to fight himself. 

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

taglist:

andy: @kimberlydyan | @siriuslyslyslytherin | @sushiinmidnight | @bval-1 | @x0xchristine | @coffeebooksandfandom | @sherd-nerd | @titty-teetee | @bellaireland1981 | @tinylumpiaa | @rosalynshields | @lharrietg | @stillmanicc | @sohoseb | @patzammit | @livstilinski | @rogersdrysdalebarber | @wydtrina | @leyannrae | @dontbescaredtosingalong | @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @graciehams | @mansaaay | @fdl305

To join my taglist, just fill out this ☾ ashleigh’s taglist ☽

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Andy Yandere Headcannons

Been in love with Undead Unluck lately, and Andy and Fuuko’s dynamic is so funny it hurts. So what would Andy be like if he was a yandere?

Andy can’t die, no matter what. It’s been his dream to finally rest in peace, but after accidentally bumping into you on a street, his whole perspective changed. Maybe being undead isn’t so bad after all, if it means he can spend eternity with you.

Andy is the total protective type. Cooking? Let him handle the sharp cutlery. Going out? Let him tag along to protect you from any brutes. If he’s on a mission? You’re absolutely staying behind, and if you have to tag along you can bet your ass he’s next to you 24/7.

He’s super touchy too. He loves holding you in his arms, holding hands, wrapping his arm across your shoulder, and giving warm hugs. He won’t admit it, but having you close to him always has his heart go crazy. You’re like a drug he can’t get enough of. His reason to live after having none for so long.

If you’d let him, he wouldn’t mind going all the way with you.

Not really the jealous type. He’s confident no one can bring you happiness like he can, and if he has any rivals — hey, he can just take care of ‘em, can’t he? He’s strong for a reason.

If he sees you with another guy though or a girl too friendly with you, you can bet your ass he’ll be grilling you about who they are, how you know them, and what they are to you. If he doesn’t like what he hears? You’re in for a doozy. He’s lived longer than you have so he knows the true nature of people. Anyone he deems unsafe to be around, you can’t hang out with.

He’s so loud and brash, you frankly can’t ignore him. Try to give him the silent treatment and he’ll just kidnap you and hold you hostage in his arms until you give. He doesn’t play that way.

Definitely a stalker, but real conspicuous about it. He knows where you live, where you work, who your family is, what your hobbies are. He’ll straight up tell you he’s planted a tracker on your phone (for protective reasons) and that he’s installed security cameras around and inside your house. Ya know, for safety. Can’t have you getting kidnapped now.

[krirebr]

Hello, my dear Kris! So after reading the newest fic from the Trapped AU… I just can’t stop thinking about those two. And you know me… I’m all about making my heart hurt with a little angst…

Can we get a snippet or drabble or your thoughts on an angsty moment -and Andy’s surprisingly soft reaction- that takes reader by surprise by the end of it…

Maybe she’s not feeling well and missing all the comforts of her old life- the things she would do when not feeling well prior to this life with Andy

Or maybe, after accidentally seeing a calendar while cleaning in Andy’s office, reader realized a special day has passed or is approaching.

Or maybe she feels a twinge of jealousy when she sees another beautiful women flirting with Andy and she’s so thrown- never once thinking she could ever feel that way with about him

Any little bit of angst where Andy uncharacteristically (at least for now) comforts her in the softest way possible- and maybe this is her kryptonite (and maybe it even turns her on a little) Would Andy use this new knowledge to his advantage? Of course he would 😈

I just want him to be soft and not so terrifying 🥺😭🫠

My heart is so torn 😭🫠

I love them and even him- you evil mastermind!

(Kris 👆while writing this lovely verse)

(Also- I LOVE trash pandas, so I hope you are not offended that I depicted you as one in your evil genius mode 😅)

Carly! I love this prompt! I had to think really hard about the inciting incident, but once I thought of it, I knew exactly what to do. This Andy can absolutely get soft. That's part of what he wants in his perfect life! It'll just always be on his terms. 😈

And no offense at all at the trash panda! That's exactly what I look like when coming up with ideas for this verse. 😏

Pairing: Andy Barber x f!reader - from Trapped AU

Warnings: Just general kidnapping/basement wife/toxic relationship warnings that come with this AU. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

It started with a mug.

Andy presented it to you about a week after you moved upstairs. It was your favorite color (your real actual favorite, not something he’d decided you liked) and had a pretty vine pattern etched into it. It was your mug. You drank your tea out of it every day. And you tried to tell yourself that it was bad because everything that came from him was bad. But it was yours. No one else drank out of it. Only you. It felt like the only thing in the world that you actually owned. 

And so, as you looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, as you told yourself that this was fine, that it was just another thing in this house full of things, all you felt was immense, gut-wrenching loss. You sank down next to the pile of shards on the ground. Maybe you could piece it back together, or, or– You didn’t know what to do. And you knew you were being ridiculous but you started crying. Sobbing. You’d already lost so much. And now the last thing on earth that belonged to you was gone too, and you were the one who destroyed it.

You heard Andy’s footsteps come into the kitchen, but you couldn’t see him from where you were crouched behind the island. “What was that crash?” he asked, harshly. The sob you let out brought him around to where you were. He looked down at you, his hands on his hips. “What happened here?”

You looked up at him through your teary eyes. He was going to be so upset with you. “I’m sorry,” you gasped. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened. It fell, and, and– it’s gone now.” You tried to wipe your face clean, but you couldn’t stem the stream of tears.

“You didn’t throw it?” Andy asked.

“No! No, I would never!” You hoped he could see how sincere you were. 

He sighed and crouched down in front of you. “Explain to me why you’re so upset.”

You struggled for a moment, no idea how to put everything you were feeling into words. And you were so scared of saying the wrong thing. Finally, all you could come up with was, “You gave it to me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed as his face completely softened, no hint of anger or a coming reprimand remaining on it. He gently grasped your elbows, “Here, let’s get you up. I don’t want you to hurt yourself on any of the shards.” 

He raised you up slowly, then guided you into one of the stools at the counter. Then he went to the little kitchen closet and grabbed the broom and dustpan. As he started to clean up, you rushed to stand. Andy hardly ever cleaned anything. That was your job. “Oh no,” you tried to stop him. “That’s ok, I can do it!”

He just hushed you, as he quickly made a pile of the shards and scooped them into the pan, and then into the trash. “See?” he said, “all done. It’s fine.” He ushered you into the living room and pulled you down into his lap on the couch, wrapping you tight in his arms. “I’ll get you a new one,” he said softly. “Even prettier than the last one.”

Without even thinking about it, you laid your head on his shoulder, as he ran his hand up and down your back. “You’re such a good girl,” he whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here. You make me so happy.” You knew you should hate that. You knew that it should make you angry. But you were just so relieved that he wasn’t upset with you, you couldn’t help but sink into him. 

After a few moments of just cuddling, he spoke again, his low voice right next to your ear. “I think you need a break, huh? How about we just spend the day together? Your chores can wait til tomorrow. We’ll even order dinner in tonight. How’s that sound?”

You were so worn out, from your sobbing, yes, but also, from everything, so all you could do was nod into his shoulder.

“Ok, then that’s what we’ll do. Just me and my good girl,” he said, his voice maybe the gentlest you’d ever heard.

“Thank you, Andy,” you sighed.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki @spiderwebbedhearts

[jaehyvno]

        arguing with bf!jongho

is either the most frustrating thing ever or one of your favourite things in your relationship

it all really depends on how pissed off and how serious the topic of argument is (which to be fair holds true for most if not all couples)

you can never start a play argument with him, forget play fighting

you had searched long and lost for something amiss in the house that you could use to have a fake argument with him. you had planned on recording it, put it on tiktok maybe, be one of those couples.

but jongho, this fucker, is such an ideal boyfriend. it's annoying.

laundry? done. the dishes you told him to do because you were tired? done. he'd even rescheduled playing football with his friends because you'd called him over, unaware of his previous plans. in short? perfect. boyfriend.

but fortunately for you and your devious plan, men were men. and their tendency to leave the toilet seat up was unavoidable. and so starts your plan.

"choi jongho!" you scream from the upstairs bathroom, knowing you'd garner his attention from where he's lounging in the living room. you hear the prompt "yes, baby?" from him. "come here, right now!" your no nonsense tone has him up in your bedroom in seconds.

when he gets up there you hear him shuffle in the bedroom before the door to the bathroom finally opens. he surveys you with furrowed brows. when the urgency in his eyes fades, he looks around the bathroom. "spider? insect that i need to kill?"

you cross your arms, glaring at your poor boyfriend. you point at the toilet seat, brow raised as you ask, "how many times do i have to tell you to put the seat down?" he chuckles. oh, the audacity. but also, the sassy laugh has you folding. sort of. he makes a half apology, reaching past you to put the seat down, then heads to the sink to wash his hands. you watch him do all that with a heated glare.

"this is turning into a repeated thing, jongho." mentally, you run through the few sentences you'd prepared. "it's like my opinion and preferences are not valued in this house. is that so?" you cock a brow at him, and he matches your face perfectly. "do my words just enter through one year and leave through the oth—" you had started trailing off mid sentence and you cut yourself off abruptly when jongho grabs your leg and slings you over his shoulders.

you try to argue still, but he shushes you. "shh. if you want to be angry do it somewhere else. the bathroom is bad feng shui." you blink. and then you kick at his side to get him to put you down.

when he doesn't, you run through your lines, screaming them in his ear. your plan was failing! the perfectly set-up and hidden camera in the bathroom wasn't of use! "shush, baby. come watch something with me, hm?"

you frown. "can we watch reruns of big bang theory?" he nods. anything to get you to shut up. "anything you want baby, anything you want."

a/n: the lack of jongho fics/drabbles on here is insane!? you must create what you seek, and i took it seriously. jongho the man you are 😩. that one compilation of jongho picking up yeosang over his shoulder got me giggling n shit. like is this a safe space to talk about how he'll throw his gf over his shoulders when she's throwing a tantrum or when theyre play fighting and carries her to the bedroom like that like... do we see the vision??? working on three different works simultaneously rn teehee. a han jisung oneshot(?), a yangyang oneshot and a mark lee fic. wonder which one i'll end up posting first but heh. requests are open!

[eccentricallygothic]

Experienced Sadist!Lloyd Hansen who is addicted to fucking You semi-dry and raw…

Warning(s): Unprotected p-in-v, d/s dynamics, m!Dom, f!sub, Sir kink, semi-dry/raw fucking, spit play, choking, age gap, light consent play I think idk. MDNI.

MASTERLIST

“Ouchieee~” you whine against Lloyd's finely shaved cheek, your flush lips press into his hot skin and his mustache tickles your jaw due to the proximity of your faces. “Sir,” you pout and graze the short hair on the sides of his head with your fingernails, a moan escaping your mouth because of how his fingers firmly knead the skin of your ass. “It h- hurts!” You feel his cock twitch against your barely lubricated pussy in response to your words. 

His naked chest vibrates against yours as he chuckles, hips rising to sink against yours once more to continue the burning friction of your aching skins. “Aw, sugar” your nearly dry petals desperately cling to his cock because of how tight your cavern is, the deep pink channel moving and pulling down with his cock when it goes to pull out of your needy pussy once more. “I know.” The baritone of his voice makes your hole clench in response. 

Lloyd brings one of his hands to your throat and lets his fingers feel your soft skin. “It's supposed to” his fist closes around your voice box once his thumb finishes its dance over your vocal chords and the moment your eyes roll over when your lungs run out of oxygen, the older man gathers a thick, warm blob of spit in his mouth before pouring it down in yours that you part to try and breathe. 

A humiliating gurgle sounds from your throat because of how the drop lands right on the back of your throat, the sensation causing for your shoulders to flinch in reaction. The wince that sizzles out of you is shaky and pained but the cruel pleasure that comes from focusing on the aching pleasure that buds past the uncomfortable rubbing of your intimate skins is way too exciting for you to actually end the scene. 

You let out a wheeze and your cunt unclamps itself from Lloyd's cock when he finally allows you to breathe. “Please… owchie… please, Sir!” Lloyd tsks when your worked up body releases a pearly droplet of arousal yet again. He reaches for your throbbing pussy with his other hand as he pulls you closer with his chokehold and plants his bushy lips upon yours, the feeling of his coarse facial hairs brushing your soft lip making you moan loud and nearly swallow up the finger that he uses to wipe away your natural lubricant. 

He had discovered this a while back, and though it was a rather slow and painful process, the orgasm was always worth it because of how sensitive and desperate it made the two of you. The struggle due to the difficulty in movement that resulted from the minimal slick made you wanting, impatient and wild. So sometimes, like today, Lloyd would deliberately wipe your pussy of its juices -since you always drip puddles for your old man- and then fuck you with the least amount of moisture possible. 

“Oh, God, fuck it hurts so bad!” You hiss out when he releases your throat once more and spits on your mouth before snaking his chokehold along your jaw to smear his oral discharge over your lips. “Oh, fuck, ouch— mmmm” Lloyd forces his thumb between your lips and your lips obediently wrap around it to suck at the digit. 

“But you like it,” your back arches when he twists one of your nipples between his fingers. “Don't you, my dirty little cock mutt?” Your face scrunches into an expression of pain and wanton and you vigorously nod. “I mean,” he pushes one of your legs over his broad shoulder and you feel his tip ghost over your cervix. “I can stop if it's too much, y'know?” The mock care makes your eyes roll once more. 

Ever the tease.

“No! No, please! No!” Your toes curl in your peripheral vision as you pout up at him, feeling yourself getting impaled into the bed because of how tightly he holds your hips to slide into you deep and hard. “Please don't!”

A satisfied smirk makes its way on his face and he grins, shaking in silent mirth. “And why not? I thought it hurt” he's a sadist through and through. 

He gets off on this. 

“B- Because… Because…” You choke on your own spit when he reaches for your throat once more. 

“Because, what?” You cannot shame or blame him, though. Not when you aren't much different from him.

“Because I am your dirty little painslut cock mutt, Sir” you say the words he likes and Lloyd moans before suddenly clanging his fingers against the side of your ass that is exposed to him due to your raised leg. “Ouch!” 

“That's fuckin' right, sunshine” his fist closes around your windpipe once more and his face and shoulder trap your elevated knee between them, other arm holding your stray leg down so his fingers can tickle your spread out cunt. Your body spasms at the sensation and your eyes lose their balance, the balls going into a disorder and your vision falters from them crossing in on themselves. “Tsk, look at you, gettin' off to a man twice your age giving a dry beating to your slutty little pussy” your mind disconnects from a gush of depraved euphoria overwhelming it and you breathlessly giggle at his words, nodding along to them mindlessly. “You are my stupid little cross eyed whore, aren't you?” His ears turn red and his own breaths get heavy because of how silly you look. 

You distantly nod, out of commission and ready to cum any moment now. 

“Hey” Lloyd cannot help but let you breathe when he taps your head back into focus. 

“H– Huh?” The heavy thumping of his heavy hand against your brain brings you back to the present moment and you confusedly blink up at him.

“Say it.” His jaw clenches from the sheer willpower it takes him to hold himself back from enacting the beastly urges that moments like these give him where he gets so overwhelmed that all he wants to do is to merge with you completely. “Say it how I like it, right now” Lloyd drops himself on a hand he places next to your head and the motion causes for his cock to hit your guts and you cry out a pained moan. “Let's fucking go.” His flared nose touches yours with a menace that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I- I… ah!” Your orgasm burns out of you and you know what's coming after this. “I am— hnng!” Your back arches and your chin presses into his mustache as a result, your muscles clenching to put everything into the feeling of your high as you cry out and try to get away but Lloyd holds you down. “I am your stupid cross eyed pain mutt, Sir, please!” The cry you let out is blood curdling. 

“Good doggy” he pats your head in his typical condescending praise and it only makes you moan louder. “Even though your cum control still needs work, good doggy.” You whine in frustration. It is his acknowledgement to it. 

You're going to have to pay for it.

Lloyd is going to put you over his knee and give you a powerful spanking with your painted thighs spread open on display before you can hope to be excused for the day.

And there is not a thing you can do to get away from the wrath of your strict lover.

You are going to take it.

And you are going to love it.

Because what Lloyd wants, goes.

. . .

Someone get my masochistic ass off this site.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 1

Was gonna be a drabble roulette. Fuck me, I can't do this right, can I?

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.

You push yourself up from the air mattress, feeling the floor through the deflating cushion. You grumble and yawn as you rub your eyes. You stand up, the loose tank clinging to your stomach as you tug the hem of your shorts from the crease of your thigh. 

You don’t lament your accommodation. You know you’re a last-minute addition to the trip. The place is a bit crowded and you’re just happy to not be laid out in the dirt. Still a free vacation is a free vacation. You won’t complain for it. 

You stretch and pad to the door, careful not to disturb the bodies sleeping in the dual bunk beds. You’ve never been to a cottage before. This place is nicer than your house. Even if it’s a bit cramped. 

Your dad always complained about the mortgage and now you know why. He’s struggling to make his monthly payments and keep you in school, meanwhile the neighbour has a whole second house by a lake. You feel worse for your meagre contributions. Your part-time job won’t get your dad his own beach house. 

As you get to the door, you jump at the loud snort the cuts the air. Jacob rolls over and throws his arm over his face. He’s been at it all night. Him and his friends who crowd onto the single mattresses.

You get along but you’re not exactly a part of his usual gang. It was your dad’s idea to come up. You know he forgot it was his turn to have you for the summer. The awkward getaway is better than dealing with another of your mother’s boyfriends. 

Your weight creaks in the floor as you come down the hall and you stop short at the unexpected figure stood before the open windows. You hug yourself as wind blows in from over the water. You stare at Mr. Barber’s broad shoulders as he stands shirtless as he stares out at the morning landscape. 

You should go back. You’re always the first one awake at the sleepover. You lean back on your heel and the floor whines loud enough to give you away. You cringe. 

“Burton--” Mr. Barber grits as he glances over his shoulder, cutting himself short as he sees you. He turns to face you completely and coughs, “sorry, I thought you were your father.” 

“Um, no, sorry Mr. Barber, I was just... awake,” you utter dumbly. 

“Andy,” he corrects you. 

“Right, Andy,” you echo nervously, “I’ll just--” you point with your thumb over your shoulder. 

“It’s fine, I... I--” he stops and looks down at himself. He wears only a pair of shorts, “shoot, I--” he clears his throat and searches around, pulling on the button up hung over one of the dining chairs, “got a bit hot.” 

You notice the couch is all made up; crumpled blankets and a wrinkled pillow.  

“Your dad’s in my room. He had a bit too much fun with the beer,” he sniffs.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you rub your neck. That’s not unusual. 

“You drink coffee?” He asks as he comes forward, “you college girls still have caffeine without all that whip and syrup?” 

You frown at the insinuation. He’s one of those; ‘in my day’, though you sense a flavour of misogyny too. You shrug. 

“I don’t drink coffee,” you answer as he nears, “I’ll have some water and lemon, if you have it.” 

“Lemon water,” he grumbles as he brushes closely, “you on a diet?” 

You squint and let out a scoff, “no.” 

He’s quiet as he looks in the fridge and takes out a large pitcher. His cheek ticks as he thinks, “not that you need to be on one... sorry.” He pours you a glass and slides it to the end of the counter, “no lemons.” 

“That’s fine,” you accept the glass. 

“Well, I was gonna say,” he scratches his beard as he backs up, his shirt still open, revealing his furry chest, “coffee always tastes better out on the dock but... you don’t drink coffee.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “well, thanks for the water. If you don’t mind, I might go out anyway.” 

He nods as he turns, popping open a cupboard to search out the canister of coffee. You linger, waiting for any response. He peels the lid off the container and glances over. His blue eyes makes you shiver. You don't know him very well, he only just moved in your first year of college. Your dad likes him but your his friends never want much to do with you. 

“I’m sorry if I’m bothering--” you begin. 

“Don’t mind,” he answers, “the company, that is.” He turns back to fill the machine and lets out a sigh, “not used to a full house anymore and I don’t think your dad will be up soon enough to share the pot.” He loads the filter and closes the lid on the percolator, “or the others...” 

“Probably not,” you agree. 

He peeks over again as he fills the carafe. You’re suddenly very aware of your own attire, or lack thereof. The loose tank, the floral shorts with the untied drawstring. You sip from the glass and give a sheepish smile. 

“Anyway, I need some fresh air,” you inch away as tap your fingertips on the side of the glass, “maybe I’ll see a few loons before they fly off.” 

His brows rise and fall and he turns his focus back to the sink. He shuts off the water and turns to the machine. You leave him, eager to be away from the tension of your unexpected encounter. On second hand, this is just as awkward as dealing with one of your mother’s random hookups. 

[writing-for-marvel]

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

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

Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

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

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

Word count: 700

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

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

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

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

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

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

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

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

The root of his envy was insecurity.

And he was green with envy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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