#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

[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. 

[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 🫠🫠

[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. 

[lookingformoondrop]

+ Yandere Andy (for my previous request for suggestive themes with a fem reader and him :33)

Yandere!Andrew Graves x f!reader - Drabble thing

TW: TOXIC ANDY, Yandere themes, obsession, possession, manipulative Andy, suggestive themes, foul language, Andy can't keep his hands to himself, threats & intimidation, Andy calls Reader dumb bunny, not proofread.

♥︎Notes: I think out of all the yandere content ive ever written, this is the most toxic. Please readers, if your irl relationship mirrors any of this behavior, LEAVE THEM. Andy is extremely toxic, and if given the chancs hed lock up his bunny for only him to see. I dont condon any of this behavior, but i support Andrew's rights and wrongs. Hope this meets your expectations <3.♥︎

When dating Andy, there are certain types of rules you must follow.

They're silent rules, sure, never spoken outloud, but you've been with Andy long enough to know that if you break them... there are consequences.

♡

Rule No. 1 : Never dare speak to another man

You can still remember this rule vividly.

It was sometime in April, and you had practically begged Andy to drive you to the mall for new spring dresses.

When he finally agreed, you both drove to the mall and walked around for an hour, just window shopping all the sweet spring deals.

You found a lovely dress and went to try it on. Unfortunately, you realized the size was too small, so you asked Andy to browse the store for something bigger.

This is when the incident happened...

When you finally finished changing, you walked out of the clothing booth with a couple of other items and one adorable shirt that lacked a price.

You searched for a store employee and spotted a young man.

"Excuse me, but is there any way you can find the price of this shirt? I can't seem to find it," you handed the shirt to the employee, and his cheeks turned a dusted pink

"W- Well sure. I can just ask my co-worker to-"

"Fuck off."

You jumped at the cold voice beside you and noticed a very pissed off Andrew. His hand was suddenly on your hip, squeezing your flesh very aggressively.

"I- I'm sorry, sir, but I was talking to this young lady, not you," the young worker looked nervous.

But Andrew was having none of it, "fuck off before I forcibly make you." His eyes narrowed on the man, as he pushed you against his chest.

The employee retreated for the employee back door, his tail practically in between his legs, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded.

You pushed at Andy's chest, "Andrew what the fuck?! He wasn't doing anything wrong, he was literally just helping me find the price tag for some-"

"Do you like pissing me off? I disappeared for not even 5 minutes, and you're letting men drool over you? "

His grip on your hip got tighter, assuring that it would leave a mark for later.

At a loss of words, Andrew leaned in and whispered into your ear,

"You're making me sad, Y/N... Do you honestly want another man?"

His voice sent shivers down your spine, making that spot between your legs ache, and that chilling feel graze your skin with goosebumps.

"Andrew, I don't want anyone else! Please don't be sad, I'm sorry for misleading you," Your eyes got glossy from the guilt that weighed down on you.

He sighed, disappointed. He gripped your wrist, using the hand that was on your hip to rip the clothes you had out of your hand and onto a random display table.

"You're not a very good girlfriend. But I love you anyway."

He walked towards the exit, caressing your hand while he did.

You quickly leaned that Andrew was not going to tolerate any sort of social interaction with other men, and if you broke this rule, he'd be very, very disappointed in you. Simple as that.

♡

Rule No. 2 : Where you're going, what you're doing, who you're with, and why is all of Andy's business.

A year into your relationship, you decided to take a spontaneous girls trip with your friends to a different state.

You'd only be gone for a couple of days, and since Andrew was always busy working, you figured that he wouldn't mind.

Thinking this, you texted Andrew.

Andy

I'm sorry I haven't texted you. How was your day? **

You

It was good! I'm actually packing right now for a trip. **

Andy

.... **

Andy

What trip? **

You

A girls' trip. I figured since you're busy all the time, I could take this weekend to vacation! **

Andy

.... Where will you be going? **

You

My friends cabin**

Andy

Who will you be going with?**

You

My friends? **

Andy

Whose Cabin? Which friends? Whats their number? How can I contact them? How many nights are you staying? What's the wi-fi situation like? How far away, is it? What's the exact location? Who knows about this trip? When will you be coming back? Will there be any men there? Is it just girls? Will you be changing in front of them? Will you be sleeping separately? Whose car are you taking? How will you get there? By what transportation? Do your friends have boyfriends? Are there any wild animals?**

You

I... Andrew, how could I answer all these questions? I dont... I dont know.**

Andy

Then you shouldn't be going. **

Andy

It's in a location I've never been to nor seen before. So many things can happen to you, my dummy bunny. It may be a cabin, but I know you can't handle being alone for so long. Save me the trouble, Y/N, you're not going. **

Andy

I'm only looking out for you. You're the love of my life. How could i possibly live with myself if something happened to you? Y/N, you're the air that I breathe, the food i consume, the blood i need to pump my heart. Are you trying to run away from me? **

You

No! Andy I swear I'm not! I won't go if it makes you uncomfortable. I just thought... **

Andy

You don't think many things through, dummy. You're such a headache sometimes. **

Andy

So, what's for dinner? I'm hungry. *

♡

Rule No. 3 : You belong to Andy, and only Andy.

"Hey Andy! Guess what I found?!" You walked up to Andy who was lounging on the coach watching some shitty news.

"What's that, Y/N?" He lazily turned his head towards you.

In your hand was an old photograph of you and an old prom date, taken long before you ever met Andrew.

You were cleaning your bedroom and found a couple of old boxes underneath your bed. Once of which, held many old memories of your youth.

"It's all the prom pictures my mom took of me! Don't I look cute?" You leaned your upper body over the coach back and showed Andy the dusty photos.

You expected a snort, a grin, maybe some mockery for your cheesy dress but instead Andrew tensed up his jaw, his eyes narrowing.

He grabbed the photos from your hand and slowly looked through them.

"You are very pretty, Y/N...." his hand squeezed the photos, to the point of crinkling them.

"Andrew, the photos are being!-"

Suddenly Andrew stood up and quickly crossed the distance between you two, letting the photos be dropped to the floor.

You gasped as Andrew smashed his lips against yours.

He grabbed onto your face, pressing his body into yours.

His lips were warm and slightly chapped, the brief smell of mint and cigarettes overpowering your head.

He broke the kiss, a strange hunger dancing in his eyes as he looked at you.

"You're so beautiful... You're so beautiful being mine, and mine alone. Mine, mine, mine, and mine, until the world comes crashing and burning. " He grinned at you, a dark shadow crossing his face.

"Andrew! I- I know im yours, but the photos are being stepped on-" You tried protesting, but instead, you felt Andrew kiss you again, this time going deeper. His hand squeezed your cheeks, attempting to make your jaw open, in a way asking for entrance.

You couldn't help but open your mouth wider, a victim to the rose colored glasses he always placed on you.

Your eyes closed, while Andrews' opened.

He stared at you with a strange intensity.

You, of course, could never hear his thoughts, but if his words were spoken outloud he would scream how much he wanted to rip that prom date to shreds.

Watch him bleed out of your hardwood floors until it stained from that fuckers punishment.

You belonged to HIM.

You were HIS.

And darling, he would go to heaven and drag you back to hell with him if he had to.

He broke the kiss and squeezed you into a hug,

"Promise you wont ever leave me, okay?" Andrew rested his head on your shoulder. You breathed heavily, wiping the saliva from your chin.

You nodded in a daze, the ache between your legs overpowering any kind of hesitancy you had.

Andrew smiled into your neck, reaching his hands under your ass to prop you up around his waist.

"Come on... I want to continue this in the bedroom. I want to see more of you..." He said in just above a whisper.

"Only you..."

Thank you for the ask (and patience)!<3

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Club AU

A collection of drabbles that intersect at the same club.

THE DUFF (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

NIGHTLIFE (Lee Bodecker, The Devil All the Time)

WASTED (Bucky Barnes, MCU)

SNAKE EYES (Loki, MCU)

MISE EN PLACE (Thor, MCU)

BLACK LIGHT (August Walker, Mission Impossible)

CAUSE OF ACTION (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob)

CARPE NOCTEM (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

BAD REPUTATION (Frank Castle, The Punisher)

UP ALL NIGHT (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

IF YOU CAN’T DANCE (Jonathan Pine, The Night Manager)

HANGOVER (Johnny Storm, Fantastic Four)

TREAT YOU (Peter Parker, MCU)

NIGHT MOVES (Nick Fowler, The 355)

AT FIRST SIGHT (Captain Syverson, Sand Castle)

YOU MAKE ME WANNA (Walter Marshall, Night Hunter)

MEMBERS ONLY (Tommy Shelby, Peaky Blinders)

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Mr. Barber’s feelings for his cleaner are more than professional.

prompts. | Andy Barber + Yandere + “Think an old man like me can keep up?” + conditioning/grooming, requested by @baalsgurl1913!

pairing. | Dark/Yandere!Andy Barber x female!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON (mostly dubious consent), abuse of power, stalking, yandere, obsession, spying, orgasm (f), large age gap (reader is legal), grooming/conditioning, gaslighting/manipulation, 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’ve always had a soft spot for Mr. Barber—and it seemed he had one for you, too. 

You would clean the Barbers’ house every now and then when Andy and Laurie’s jobs made them too busy, and their son couldn’t bother to learn how to help out. You didn’t mind it. They paid a good amount and were always so kind to you.

But that was before it happened. And now Mr. Barber hires you because he’s grief-stricken, and you’ve known him for so long.

It’s not hard to tidy up behind him. He has manners, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. Andy’s entire life fell apart, and everyone watched in amusement.

Everyone except for you. No, you would never. You’re a good girl; he knows it. So sweet with your patterned dresses and adorable sweaters. You tell him ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for every little thing, giving him those eyes that make him want to wreck you on the spot.

It really isn’t his fault that he watches you outside your work hours. He has to keep you safe anyway—don’t you know there are dirty criminals on every corner? And, plus, you made him do this. You’re too pure, too wholesome—and all his. Even though you don’t know it yet.

“That’s it for today, sir. Is there anything else you need?” you hum, light jacket on your shoulders with your purse on the chair since you just polished the countertops. “Actually, there is something else you could do for me,” Andy says, grunting as he stands up from his spot on the couch. 

He stayed there the entire time, making sure you did your job well. You didn’t mind.

“Oh, what is it?” you ask, already shrugging your windbreaker off. “Have a drink with me?” he offers, walking to the fridge. He grabs a beer for himself and a coke for you, knowing that you wouldn’t want to drive home with alcohol in your system. But you don’t have to worry. Not anymore, at least.

“Er, thank you. You’re always so kind to me, sir,” you tell him, sitting down on the couch. He joins you, his thigh touching yours. You involuntarily try to make yourself smaller, nervously giggling at the contact. When you look up at the much older man, he looks different. Pained, almost, with dark eyes and a clenched jaw. Is he upset? Did you do something wrong? Worry gnaws at you.

Andy looks down at you and remembers when you first started working for him. It was a warmer day than usual, and he had come home early at Laurie’s request. She was worried a young thing like you—who had turned eighteen a few months prior—would steal something valuable from the house.

She didn’t know that the only priceless thing had become you, and the worth of their home would decrease drastically when you weren’t there.

You take a sip of your chilled drink, resisting the urge to chug it after all your hard work.  

Andy places a hand on your thigh, but you don’t think much of it. He’s done this before, especially when he feels you’ve been exceptionally good that day.

“Y’know, honey… I really appreciate you coming here so often,” he starts, patting your leg. You smile, slightly embarrassed by the attention. “Really. I mean, you’ve put up with me for so long—through everything…”

You nod sympathetically, knowing what he’s referring to. 

“I just feel like I owe you. More than a raise or a gift,” Andy admits, and you start shaking your head. “No sir, really. I’m fine—thank you for everything. I already have so much,” you say. He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you?” he asks, puzzling you. You take a larger gulp of the Coke. “Yeah…” 

“Don’t lie, sweetie. I know you don’t. Going back to that little matchbox of yours? With your slob of a roommate waiting for you to clean her messes?” he scoffs, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean, sir?” you question.

“You know what I mean. I’ve seen it all, honey. I can give you so much more—haven’t I already?” he reasons, and it’s only when you feel a chill of air that you realize that your dress has been lifted up, and he can see your underwear. Oddly, you don’t fight him. It’s Mr. Barber—kind, sweet Mr. Barber, who cracks dad jokes and isn’t afraid to order pizza nearly daily. He’s been touchy before, but you’ve never paid any mind to it. Maybe that’s how he shows love.

“And please, call me Andy. You’ll have to, eventually,” he says, inching his fingers closer to your core. Your breathing gets heavy from nerves and desire. “I– I just don’t get it, sir—I mean, Andy. I’m a little scared?…” you confess, and he coos at you.

“That’s alright, sweetie. I’m here for you. Don’t you know how much I love you? I would never hurt you.”

His words make you dizzy. You feel his large, warm hand dip into your panties, and you let out an exhale. You’ve got a vice-like grip on the glass bottle he gave you, but it nearly slips when Andy finds your clit with ease. 

“Now, I know you’re young and all…” he starts, rubbing slow circles on your nub. He can feel your wetness, and it takes all of him to not pounce on you right then. You gasp from the pressure, and your free hand reaches down to grab his wrist, but you don’t push him away. Instead, you keep him there as if he has threatened to pull his hand away and leave you a writhing mess on his couch. “Think an old man like me can keep up?” he asks, and your eyes flash to his face. He’s got mild wrinkles and a slew of greys peppered into his hair and beard. You’ve always admired the look, even though he was married. “It’s been a while, but I can go a few rounds. You get me so hard, honey.”

You quickly come undone on your boss’ fingers, and he drinks in the sight, even though it certainly isn’t the first time he’s seen you have an orgasm. And it will never be the last. 

[biteofcherry]

Ruby Garden Series

BDSM Club - various characters

Summary: Separate stories will focus on a different a pairing and have its own summary. The main background is that it all takes place in a private club Ruby Garden which caters to bdsm community.

Warnings: each part will get its separate warnings, but in general: BDSM themes; D/s dynamic; Dom/sub; spanking and other impact play; oral; anal; orgasm control; edging; sex toys; power imbalance; ssc - safe sane consensual;

Dom!Andy Barber

Dom!Ari Levinson

Dom!Steve Rogers

Dom!Lloyd Hansen

Dom!Nick Fowler

Dom!Bucky Barnes + Dom!Curtis Everett

[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.

[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.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey there..thank you for writing my previous ask

Here i am again🙈🙈

Can you do a husband andy x pregnant wife smut!

Just her round belly making him feral trope

Thanks❤️

hi! of course, thank you for sending these requests in! sorry it took so long. I hope you like it.

warning - smut, swearing, creampie, sex while pregnant, breeding kink.

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

“Fuck, baby girl! You feel so fucking good! Look so fucking beautiful, round with my baby!” Andy thrusts deep inside you, growling when he feels you clench around his throbbing member. His eyes connect with your dazed ones through the mirror, slowly trailing down to stare at the bump you both created. His large hands come around, gently cradling it as he pounds into you from behind. “So– beautiful and mine, isn’t that right?”

You nod your head lazily, eyes rolling back from the intense pleasure. “Y–yes, all yours, daddy.” Walls pulsating around your husband’s vast cock. “Wanna be round with your babies all the time!” Andy’s hips stutter at your words. He rests his chin on your shoulder, taking in your sweet scent as his hips move faster.

“Yeah, baby girl? You wanna be full and round with my babies all the time? I can do that.” Andy growls, nipping your neck, leaving marks. His eyes were still glued to your bump, “my god, you’re so fucking gorgeous. My little goddess.” Andy’s head lolls, his eyes close, and his body explodes in complete bliss. The feeling of your cunt fluttering around him as you cum, sets him off. 

Andy groans, cock twitching as he pumps you full, wishing it would add an extra baby. Carefully, he pulls out and heads into the bathroom to grab a damp washcloth before walking back over to you and cleaning you up. “There you go, baby girl. Are you feeling okay?” He stands in front of you, cupping your face in his hands as he stares deep into your eyes.

You nod, eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion catches up to you. “I’m okay” A yawn falls from your lips. “Just tired, thank you, daddy.” You nuzzle your face into his hands, feeling content with your life, and you can’t wait for this baby to come out because then you and Andy can start on another. 

Andy smiles, picking you up gently as he carries you over to the bed. Lying down alongside you, holding your body close to him. “I love you, baby girl.” His hand strokes the growing bump, warmth filling him at the reminder that you are carrying a piece of him. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Frisky Friday thot: you’re in a crowded elevator at work and jostled into one… Andrew Barber. Obviously you’re in love with him and coming on to him, and now you’re gonna belong to him—in every way—just like you want, honey 😌

Going Up

Warnings: naughty Andrew doing naughty and non-consensual humping.

"Oh, excuse me. Sorry, er," you try to dodge the bodies in the packed elevator, only to be elbowed and pushed deeper inside. "Uh, okay, um."

The doors open again and in blatant disregard of the weight capacity labeled on the wall, more people step on. You take another step back, right toward the corner, and hear a grunt as you press into another person. You can't move enough to see who it is; not that you would even know them.

"Sorry," you squeak as the heat and mingling colognes and perfumes thicken the air.

“It’s—” he coughs as you’re crushed against him. He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead letting out a strained sigh.

You try to fold into yourself. Curling your shoulders and hanging your head low. You need to get off of this elevator before you suffocate. You should have just taken the stairs. Now you know better.

Your chest constricts as sweat glazes over your scalp. You don’t do well in crowds. In fact, you’ve only ever worked remotely. Anywhere. Some might think it’s lucky that you’ve only ever worked from your bed or couch, but customer service isn’t exactly your strong suit. No, this office gig is supposed to be a fresh start.

Another man steps on. You can only see the top of his head. You lean as the space gets even tighter and you press into the man behind you again. You try to apologise but it comes out as a whimper.

Panic starts to crawl up your stomach and wraps around your neck. You hold your breath as the walls get even closer and you blink as your vision blurs at the edges. You tremble as you reach to fix the strap of your bag, swaying on your wobbly legs.

You should have stayed home. It’s easier to face people over a headset. This is too much.

“Take a breath,” the man growls under his breath as you feel a tickle on your skirt.

You push the air from your lungs and nearly collapse. He slips his hand around your stomach and holds you up. If it wasn’t for him, you’d fall into the see of bodies. He pulls you back against him.

“Take another,” he girds.

You do as he says.

“Keep it up,” he commands.

You don’t know why you obey. You’re scared. You’re about to shatter to pieces. You can’t think but he can do that for you. You focus on your breath; in, out, in, out…

He brings you flush to him and you feel something else. Something prodding. Oh!

The subtle tilt of his hips catches you off guard. You can’t make a noise as you feel what he’s doing. He grinds against the back of your skirt until it’s warm. You feel along his slacks and push on his firm thigh. You can feel his strength. It sends another jitter through your body.

His own heavy breaths fan over you and dampen your hair. You can’t move, you can’t speak, you’re mortified. All these people. How can this be happening?

He sighs as the elevator doors open with a ding. The top floor. Your destination. He lets go and you stagger out as the suits and heels disburse. You finally get your balance and look around. Who was it?

Everyone is in a hurry to find where they’re going. At least they know. You spin and come face to face with a blue neck tie. You follow it up to the face of its wearer. You gulp.

“Excuse me, sir,” you bat your eyes at the bearded man as your voice quavers. “Do you know where Mr. Barber’s office is?”

He grins, “that’s me.”

His voice sends a chill rippling over you. It’s the same one that spoke to you in the elevator. He extends the same large hand that stretched over your stomach. You stare at his long fingers and reluctantly take it.

“Let me show you around,” he offers as his thumb rubs between your knuckles.

[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 | massage

pairing | massage therapist!andy barber x reader

warnings | andy’s soooo soft and sweet <3. err, some sort of violation of massage therapy ethics lol. me kind of not knowing how a massage works. my shameless hand kink. fingering. praising/encouragement. squirting. he cleans her up after :)

word count | 897

an | big thankyou to @starksbabie for letting me ask weird questions about massage practices lol. sorry if this still didn’t seem realistic, i’ve never had a massage before 😭

okay but 😳 getting a massage from andy? 😏

he’s a professional ofc!! recommended to you by a friend who’s noticed how tense and stressed you’ve been lately. “he’s the best, those hands are magic!”

he’s got a little private office built off of his home. he greets you when you arrive, guiding you back into the private room with the table. “go ahead and undress for me, honey. hop up and lay on your back when you’re ready; you can cover yourself with the sheet if you like.” he gives you a few minutes of privacy to let you do as he instructed. all you can think about is how handsome he is 🥲 your friend should’ve warned you this guy’s a total dilf lol

he comes back in and dims the lights, making his outline just barely visible against the few dull lamps stationed around the room. washes his hands at the sink in the corner before coming to stand at your side, pumping some oil onto his large hands. he can see you’re trembling a little 🥺

“easy sweetheart, just relax. i’ll be gentle, i promise.” his voice is so soothing and warm, it’s hard not to trust him

he starts things out innocent enough, moving the sheet and working your calves and around your knees. murmuring soothing words as he notes your jumpiness, “deep breaths, good.” “that feel okay?” “a little tight here, honey. let’s see if we can help with that-” his hands are so strong yet gentle 💕

he gradually works his way up to your thighs. the outsides first, then the tops. you try your best to fight off any inappropriate thoughts or feelings, but there’s just something about his dark figure towering over you, his massive hands, his low, soothing voice…

“gonna open up your legs a bit, princess. you’ve got some tightness here,” you jump as his long fingers are trailing to the insides of your thighs. he opens them just a few inches at first, guiding your knees to fall apart. you’re glad the room is so dark; you’re sure you’re making the most humiliating faces at this point 🥲 he works at your sore inner thighs as you try to ignore the fact that your bare pussy is now on display for his trained eyes and hands

he makes his way up to the tender space where your legs meet your groin. a whimper escapes your lips, heat rushing to your cheeks

he pauses. “sweetheart.” his voice is so dangerously low, with just a hint of tentativeness. he takes a deep breath, exhaling audibly before continuing. “i wanna help you, baby. will you let me?” his hands are guiding your knees further apart, hooking them over each side of the table to let your calves dangle down towards the floor.

you close your eyes, trying not to let your voice tremble as you give a soft, “mhm,” nodding your head. it’s all the answer he needs

he pumps some more oil onto his hands, warming them gently for a few moments before returning to the side of the table. you can just barely see his form leaning down a bit to get as good of a view as he can. his hands are careful as they land on either side of your needy cunt. you don’t get to see the smile spreading across his face as he catches a glimpse of your wetness, shining subtly in the darkness

he uses one large hand to part your pussy lips, the other dragging a few fingers up through your puddle. he hums in approval as your body jerks sensitively. he strokes the pads of his fingers broadly over your clit for a few moments, paying attention to how your body responds. when your knees shake and your little feet kick gently, he moves to press two fingers up into your soaking hole as the others continue on your burning button

“keep breathing for me, baby. that feel good?” you offer a mumbled confirmation, your head nodding almost desperately as his strong digits stretch you out. the sensation of fullness almost does you in alone- and then he starts pumping his fingers into you, curling them ever-so-slightly up to reach your sweet spot

you let out some mixture between a moan and a cry, your hips bucking up instinctively to match his pace. “good, that’s good, honey. keep going for me, that’s it…” he forces your mound back with his fingers, swirling his thumb quicker over your hardened nub. “come on, baby. give it to me, almost there…”

you come right on his fingers with a string of jumbled cries. “goood,” he croons, keeping up his pace to coax your orgasm out of you. he smiles as he feels you squirting out against his hands before things finally begin to ease up

he slows to a gentle stop, reaching for a towel with one hand as he continues stroking your inner thigh with the other. after wiping off the mess you made from his fingers, he gently moves to find something to clean you off with, turning the lights up a little to make the room more visible

“feeling better?” he asks when he returns to your side. you just nod pathetically, a sweet look of humiliation settling on your face as he gets to cleaning you up 😌

[eccentricallygothic]

You get sick but you hate the doctor and his healing remedies so Daddy!Ari Levinson/Andy Barber…

Oh my God?

The man is like an actual parent?

Like, sometimes you have to remind him that he's your Daddy and not your Dad (and get punished for it)!

Whether it is Andy or Ari, both are such naggy old men and so fucking sharp at picking up the smallest of anomalies and differences in your behavior and condition because of their jobs that it is annoying. 

For instance;

One dark eyebrow raises at you when he notices your chatterbox is uncharacteristically quiet today. Because -not that he is complaining or ungrateful- usually your voice runs his old man ears raw. And when you avoid his eyes as you take way more interest in his preparation of breakfast because your baby sloth ass could never, his Daddy antennas are up and steering around in vigilance before you can blink your next. 

You just nuzzle closer into your stuffie and suppress a cough because the pain in your head and nose is nothing compared to what his treatment entails. In your little mind, dealing with this is better than Daddy finding out you're sick. 

The older man puts down the spatula and since his hands are all you let yourself see, it is impossible for you not to notice when he puts them on his hips. You chew on your bottom lip and stare at his belt for a few moments while praying hard that he resumes his work but your Daddy can be just as stubborn as you. 

And when you do look up, his suspicion is making his burly appearance even more intimidating than it already is. You cannot help but gulp. You give him a confused look with a little shrug of your shoulders. Unfortunately for you, the two of you have been over this one too many times. 

“Say something.” The simple command comes out a menacing order because of the baritone quality of his voice and the way his muscular arms cross over his broad chest serves only to make you feel even smaller. He raises an eyebrow. 

You shrug in pretend puzzlement again, eyes looking at him like he is being weird when you are the one giving yourself away. Your voice is one of the first things to change when you are nearing a flu or a similar sickness so after you realized that it is what your Daddy catches on, your great idea was simply not to speak. 

Sadly for you, you can never outsmart your old man. 

“I want you to say something, now.” You dumbly sign him ‘what?’ and completely damn yourself but you're too small and slow to realize it just yet. 

It is painfully obvious, honestly. You are hugging your sickness time teddy that your Daddy jokingly named Mr. Sicky because of how he only gets attention when you're under the weather, your nose is red, your eyes are glazed and your body that curls in on itself on the kitchen island chair looks like it's on the verge of crying like a little baby because of how sensitive you tend to become. 

“Okay, fine” he puts the kitchen towel that was hanging by his shoulder down on the counter and kills the stove before walking around the barrier separating the two of you, big arms reaching to grab a hold of you. “Come here” your eyes widen and though your heavy head pounds from how you jump off your seat, a painful escape is better than meddies and his old man remedies. 

But alas!

Your grizzly of a Daddy is too fast. 

You furiously shake your head and kick your limbs like an agitated hedgehog to try and break free from your cruel captor, still refusing to utter a single syllable and trying to avoid his prying hand so he can't find his way to your throat. 

“Stay still” he deeply grunts, easily holding you up in the air and against his strong chest with an ironhold around your waist all by one arm. 

You growl and bare your teeth like an angry pupper trying to bark at an adult husky. 

“Ughhh—”

“There we go~” the older man drawls out in satisfaction when he locates the damage with the use of his old man methods by feeling for swelling under your jaw and behind your ears. “I knew it.” 

“Let go, meanie!” He hums in triumphant sarcasm when you finally let your nasal voice loose. “Ugh!” You try to crane your head away from him, legs furiously fighting a lost battle. “I don't like you!” 

Your Daddy is so not impressed and completely unbothered. “Too bad.” The sheer lack of effort it takes him to hook your protestant form to his hip as he walks to the sink to fill up a pot with water is in stark contrast to the energy you're putting into your unsuccessful escape. 

“I dun want! I dun want! I dun want!” He doesn't even grunt as he places the pot on the stove and turns it on to boil with his free hand. “NO!” Next he leans over the counter to phone your usual doctor just because he does not like to use medication carelessly.  “This abusive!” You are so tired and sore that you cannot even properly speak but you swear to yourself that you will die before you let him put you in that stupid steam treatment that always suffocates you. 

(You will lose because your brutish bear Daddy will tightly hold you against him under the blanket until the steam forces your blocked pathways open but a brat can dream) 

“Babies are too small to know or decide what's right for them” he is slightly distracted as he softly squints at the dialer like the oldie he is. “Now shush so Daddy can speak to Uncle Steve.” That is, the name of your Doctor who is another meanie because he's besties with your villain of a Daddy. He always has great fun recommending you ewie gargles.

“Nu…” You whisper in despair as your words melt into a cough. All you can do is watch your blurred reflection in one of the fridge doors as you hang sideways, the deep voice of your Daddy filling your ears as he props the phone against his shoulder to take out ingredients for one of the many soups you will be cursed to for the next few days.

You hate soups! 

Especially the sick time ones! 

Daddy always tells you you're being dramatic but he will never be able to fool you! You just know he puts extra ewie healing things -probably recommendations of his be(a)stie!- in them that always make the soups taste so old man recipe-like! You puff your cheeks and glare at the stupid celery stalks that he places upon the chicken container.

You may be sick, but that will not stop you from going to war before your old man can put a spoon of that in your mouth!

[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