#andy barber fanfics

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 7

Summary: Andy is such a daddy

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, breedable reader and a breeding kink man, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You should really wake up. There is a lot to do today; Audrey has her Donuts with Dad event at school, Suede had an allergist appointment, Andy’s day wasn’t too bad and he said he would go with you. But you don’t want to wake up, you want to enjoy this moment. You’d rather lay in this bed, facing Andy’s handsome face, and watching him while he sleeps. It could be creepy to some, but you doubt that Andy would mind.

There’s just something so magical about seeing the man you’ve always loved facing you, and his warm breath blowing over your cheeks. Life wasn’t perfect, but with him in your life you know you have a partner, and now not everything sits on your shoulders. He carries the weight, and he makes life fun again for you and the kids.

It didn’t seem like that long ago that you cried on the floor, while you watched your babies sleep. You were silent as tears stained your face and chest, watching these beautiful babies sleep soundly, while their father grunts in pleasure in the background. You didn’t understand why he would risk losing them. They are perfect, and he knew — knew that infidelity was the point of no return.

He risked a relationship with his offspring, the thing he claimed to desire the most, because he knew you would fight like hell to have custody of your children. They were all you have left of your marriage. And you just stared at them in awe. Audrey held onto Suede like he was her personal stuffed animal. And their lips were puckered out as they slept so serenely, having no knowledge of their babysitter fucking their disgusting father.

You tired of sitting on the floor, and crawled in Audrey’s bed, holding onto both of them like a lifeline. You had to be okay for them. You just didn’t understand. You had two good reasons in your arms for not cheating; he is two and she's four, and Scott was the ultimate idiot.

You made yourself believe that you stayed because they adored their father. You knew that the two of you had been drifting apart. Sex was a chore, until it was completely absent. His harsh words for Suede changed the way you thought of him. How someone could see this perfect tiny little baby that was in the NICU fighting to breathe was a miracle. You made yourself suffer through a subpar relationship because you felt it’s what they wanted.

It would have been easier on you if he told you he didn’t love you anymore. The low blow was who the woman was. He had to pick out the young girl that was every man’s fantasy, so you thought. She was young, stupid, perfect hair, perfect teeth, perky full tits, had a stomach that hadn’t carried and birthed babies, she was just the epitome of sex goddess. Your mom told you that you were stupid for hiring a babysitter that looked like her, but she was readily availed. Too readily.

And you thought she was fun for the kids for the few hours she watched them. She wasn’t supposed to be watching your husband. He wasn’t supposed to be coming home during a lunch hour to fuck her while your babies slept. Yours. They have always been yours. And you feel like a fool for staying in a loveless marriage, because their happiness now is infectious.

And now today, and everyday for the rest of your life you can thank Taylor because you have the better man in front of you. The man of your dreams. The man that is so fuzzy and warm, and then hard and protective for his family. That’s what the four of you are; family. His family.

It has made you painfully aware how you all are a family everyday. Every day Andy wants to do something as a family. He wants breakfast together, dinner together, play time with no electronics (thanks Ransom), he even helps Suede sound out his words more, and has mentioned a few times on helping him potty train. He immediately was the best bonus dad for your kids. Better than their own father.

As much as you would like to prolong this moment, you know you need to get breakfast started. Andy will join you later to set the table. He would even get Suede ready while you got Audrey ready. Keep them occupied while you make lunches. He was a help. They weren’t a burden to him. You know he’s always wanted a family, but you didn’t realize how much he would flourish as a father.

You try and let him get a few minutes extra of sleep, while you ease out of the bed. Giving a final look to the most beautiful man inside And out as you pick up some shorts out of the floor. Getting into the kitchen, you check the calendar for the menu today, and pull out the ingredients for pancakes. Even this part of life made you happy, Andy enjoyed helping you and the kids create the menu for the month. Blissful is a good word. Now if Scott could just buzz off, and let the four of you live in peace.

Lighthearted, you start laying bacon onto trays for the air fryer. Mixing up the batter for the pancakes as you dance around to happy music in your head. Not all mornings are this joyful, but you feel different. Usually he was the one that woke up before you did, and he would start this process. You hear the alarm go off in the bedroom, and start to make a yogurt dip for fruit.

“Morning, handsome,” you look over your shoulders as Andy pulls down his shirt, and makes his way behind you. He wraps both arms around your front, laying his hands flat on your belly as he starts roaming around. His hands become more needy, and he adds a bit more pressure, pulling you into him. “I gotta finish the last pancakes, and pop them in the warmer. Gimme me a moment.”

“I need my morning kiss,” you bump your ass out, pushing him back, just a tiny bit to get the pancakes off the griddle, and turn off the stove. Andy is already peppering kisses up your neck before he lifts a hand to turn your head to the side. “I need a real good morning kiss because the babies are still asleep, and the air fryer hasn’t shut off.”

“Kiss until one or the other happens?” He nods his head as he inches closer to your mouth. You wish he’d let you turn around to kiss him properly, but he’d taken to kisses like this. His hands continue to caress over your belly. Dipping under the hemline of your top, so he can have his hands on your skin. One hand roams a bit too high, and he pinches your nipples.

“The babies,” you manage to get out, and his hand already sinks back lower. You kiss him like there’s no care in the world. The best way to start a day. You are ready to get out of this house, and find a forever home with him. Create memories with everyone. Start drawing lines on a door frame to show how much they’ve grown. A big fenced in backyard because you have thought more about a dog for the kids, and a bonus if it can be a service dog for Suede’s allergies.

Andy bites on your lip, pausing his ministrations as a giggle makes him pull off you, “You look like you are eating each other,” Audrey giggles again, but Suede jokingly scowls at Andy.

“My mama,” he stomps his foot, and Andy copies his motion. “No oos!”

“You want to race to the table for her?” Both Audrey and Suede’s faces light up with a smile, and they bend low, bouncing in place as they look up at Andy. “Ready,” he drops his arms from around your body. “Set,” Andy walks over to where the kids are, getting in a running stance with them, “Go!”

Running in the house isn’t often. But these short bursts of racing to the table are fine. Scott would hate them. You open up the air fryer, and start placing bacon on a plate. Setting out the plates onto the counter. Pulling out some cups. “Auds, you want juice or milk, baby?”

“JUICE, mommy!”

“Suedey?”

“UICE!”

Starting a pot of coffee, you give Andy a chaste kiss as he grabs the plates and utensils, walking back into the dining room, “Suede, all the way in your seat,” Suede listens immediately, and Andy lays out the plates, “Do not stand up in the chair while I go get the drinks, okay?”

“Chess.”

“I mean it, Audi, you watch him, angel, okay?” She holds up a thumb as Andy jogs back into you. Finishing up pouring the drinks, you slap his ass as he trots back, “Ma’am!”

“Don’t have such a cute tush,” you shrug. He seriously has the best scrumptious ass that you will bite one of these days. Andy rolls his eyes, and you grab up the tray of food. Walking in to see your family. “Coffee should just about be done.”

“Is it just me today again?” You give him a nod. Coffee has been giving you the worst heartburn lately, so you’ll stick with just water for today. Now is one of your favorite times of day. Time to talk with your littles about their day. Time to watch Andy try and help Suede calmly sound his words out a bit more. It’s amazing what positive reinforcement from more than you helps him learn.

His speech is already improving, but also his behavior. He is still two and has his moments of big emotions for a little boy. But it’s almost like he has a male that now pays attention to him, and talks to him like he’s a human instead of at him because he isn’t perfect. Suede isn’t a mistake, and Audrey isn’t perfect. You didn’t want her to have these impossible goals, because no one is ever going to perfect. She would fail. There would be things she wouldn’t naturally be good at, and you wanted her to have those moments.

“Audi, are you excited about your dad coming to pick you up today?” You start the morning conversation. She hadn’t seen him in over a week. Even his nightly calls are dwindling down. Either he’s too busy with Taylor, or his insecurities towards Andy are taking over his need to be a decent father.

She finishes the gulp of her juice before she sits it down on the table, nodding her head. She missed him. Suede didn’t care or way or the other. If it didn’t hurt your children, you’d rather he just stay absent, “And and and and and…”

“Breathe,” you whisper. She has picked up a bit of stuttering with her excitement recently. You hope she didn’t have these moments with her dad. You shudder to think what he’ll say about her not being perfect.

She takes a slow breath, wiping her maple hands down her front, “Daddy says he’s going to take me to that new donut shop.”

“Me, too! Na Na, me go!”

“Buddy, we have to ask if they have donuts without eggs first. This is just,” Andy looks over towards you, wondering how he should phrase the next sentence. No matter how it comes out, it’ll be how it sounds.

“Suedey, today is just for sissy and daddy,” he furrows his brows, and folds his arms over his chest. “I know. But maybe you and Andy can do something special Friday evening, and Audrey and I can stay home.”

“Chess!”

“Can can can can,” she takes a deep breath without being coached this time, “Can you and I make Pinkalicious cupcakes? My teacher read the book, and I need pink cupcakes.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. But, Suede?” Suede immediately sits back on his bum as he looks at Andy, and he thanks him quickly, “I need you to be extra brave today. You got to pick out tonight’s dinner, remember?”

“Chess,” he says slowly. “Me,” he looks at you, and then only at Andy, “B-b-br…bave,” close enough. He smiles so big as he looks at Andy, and he reaches across the table, holding out a fist, and Suede bumps his hand. Andy moves it to Audrey who returns the favor.

“Alright, you two take your plates to the dishwasher, and head to the bathroom for teeth and hands and faces,” today was going to be tough. But today wasn’t going to be bad.

Andy checks his watch again while Audrey sits and stares out Sloane’s window directly to the parking lot. She stands up on her little tiptoes, trying to see cars closer to the building before sighing, and walking over to Sloane’s desk, and crawling back underneath. Andy’s assistant glares at him.

Waiting on the little girl to put her headphones back on, “Fix this,” she whisper screams. “Her looks so pitiful, and I can’t do anything to help it. So you have to fix it!”

“And what am I supposed to do? Her dad was supposed to be here ten minutes ago to pick her up. It’s a Dad’s and Donuts day at school. And no, the dads are not a requirement, but dads, moms, father figures, whatever are invited.”

“And you’re the step,” Andy clears his throat, his eyes scanning the parking lot again, “Bonus dad. Take her to get her donuts, and you take her,” Andy starts to make a comment before he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and walks into his office. Closing the door softly as he paces around.

“Doe!”

“Don’t tell me what I think you’re about to say,” there has been a sneaking suspicion in your mind all day. Scott hadn’t called to confirm the event at school, which only meant one thing, he wasn’t going.

“He’s not here,” you groan in frustration. Keeping your eyes on Suede who scribbles on a piece of paper with his tongue sticking out. It would be any moment that you were going to be called back for Suede’s test, and Scott wasn’t there to get his daughter.

“Days like this I want to hit him. I know that work gets in the way, but he can schedule around this, right? You do. God, I just wish you were her dad,” Suede looks up at you smiling, pointing at his paper, and things grow silent on the other end. Andy wouldn’t leave her hanging like this. You can imagine her looking out the window, and then going back under Sloane’s desk to hide.

She thinks that nobody notices when he disappoints her, but you do. More and more Scott’s insecurities about Andy were coming out, and she is the one that suffers for it, “Honey, tell me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but I can take her,” you inhale swiftly, staring at Suede, and how he tries conversing with a little boy in the waiting area. His confidence growing by a positive male influence.

“Okay,” responding quickly because Audrey deserves doughnuts that could potentially have eggs. “Yeah, okay. Umm, I’m going to send you the address,” your phone pings, and you check to see if it’s Scott, and it isn’t. “Andy, her favorite color currently is…”

“Pink, I know. Ransom, why are you here?” Andy looks at his colleague confused. Of course Ransom is there. He had to let you know that Audrey is hiding. Those iPads are going to be a blessing and a curse.

“Audrey is hiding under Sloane’s desk, and she sent me a message asking if I could bring her some doughnuts. I thought that — he didn’t show up,” Ransom growls, and reaches into his pocket for his keys, “Alright, let's get the kid the most obnoxious cupcakes…”

“Doughnuts,” you and Andy say at the same time, even if Ransom couldn’t hear you. “And I’m driving. You don’t have a car seat.”

“Yeah, whatever, let’s go,” Ransom leans under Sloane’s desk, smiling at the tiny little Audrey, “Come on, let’s go nuts for doughnuts,” nerd. Ransom is a liar, and he’s a nerd. He was the best liar and only because he ended up being the most tender man besides Andy. He is all bark, and only bites for mean men.

Audrey holds onto her box of donuts, and Andy opens her door, helping her get out, “Do you think the gold is too much?” She asks, looking down at her gaudy pastries, and Ransom scoffs. The gold had been his idea, “So people will love them, Uncle Ann?”

“They’re going to love them, sweetheart,” Andy butts in. He lets Audrey walk in front, leading the way into the classroom. “We’re just two minutes late, but I think the pink and gold were the right fit,” Audrey holds her head up higher. “You’re coming, too?”

“I’m not sitting out in the car. I want donuts,” Audrey looks like she’s commanding these two men. She guides them through the doors, stopping to let Andy sign her in before continuing her trek down the hallway. Nodding her head as she passes the classroom doors.

“That’s Suede’s room. He hasn’t been back since he was stung. Mommy wants to make sure there’s no other allergies before he comes back. Oh! Miss Tatum! My Uncle Ann and — Andy brought me. My daddy is busy, but this is okay, right?”

“Of course. Go sit your donuts on the table, I’m sure your uncles can help you,” Andy starts to protest. “We’ve got a quick circle time, and we’re going to go directly into the donuts. You’re welcome to sit down with her, or you can join the adults behind the table.”

“Haha, she thinks we’re a couple,” Ransom giggles, and he gets a sharp look from Miss Tatum. “You think she’s single? She is a feisty one.”

“I think she thinks that she’s not your type,” Ransom look from Miss Tatum to Andy, his lip curling a moment.

“You’re right, I don’t like kids,” Andy’s face falls flat as he stands in the back of the classroom. That isn’t at all what Andy was insinuating, “I don’t. This,” Ransom motions to the classroom of fifteen children, “this is terrifying. Perfect birth control. But she sure is cute,” Andy elbows his partner in the ribs as Miss Tatum sits on the floor with a guitar. “What does one do at donuts for dads?”

“I’ve never done this,” he keeps his eyes on Audrey who sporadically watches him as she sings. The biggest grin on her face for their morning song. A little dimple showing on her cheek that only appears when she’s at her happiest. “I think I’ve got the cutest kid here.”

“Well, yeah, Audi is the best. Why is she so tiny though? I swear she’s the shortest here,” she is. One of the younger students, but also one of the daintiest.

“She’s perfect,” Andy whispers, smiling back at the little girl. “I couldn’t imagine not showing up for her. Look how happy she is. It’s all she wants is someone to show up for her. And this way she gets put first. Nothing about today is about Suede, just her,” the song finishes, and Audrey gives both men a huge grin, and waves her hands. She bounces around in her spot, but waits for Miss Tatum to dismiss them for the donuts.

“Alright, children, go to your grownup, and let's get our breakfast started. Don’t fill up on just donuts, there’s fruit as well,” Audrey bounces up, sprinting over to Andy and Ransom. She crashes into Andy’s legs giving him a huge hug.

“Come on, we have to hurry so we can sit at the best table. It’s the one closest to the kitchen area, and there’s a window, and you can pretend to have a store, and we have a money thingy that really beeps. And! Oh, look, come here,” grabbing both their hands she pulls them to another section of the classroom.

Forgetting she had a special table, she just wants to show off her space, “This is where I paint. And you see that picture way up there? That’s my hand and we made it into a pumpkin! And and and and and and…”

“Audi, breathe.”

“Yes,” she inhales slowly, exhaling, “That’s our reading area. And this book,” she pulls up a book from the shelf, showing both men, “This is my favorite right now. It’s Pinkalicious, and it has a girl who turns pink in it,” she lets out a roaring giggle before pulling the book out of Andy’s hands, and showing them something else.

“See the bags on the windows? We’re trying to sprout beans! And oh,” she drags them to another area of the classroom, “This is the block center. Jacob makes really big buildings and he knocks them down. And one time a block fell on my head and I cried.”

“Which one is Jacob?” Ransom’s eyes narrow as he looks at every little boy in the classroom. Putting Jacob on his list.

“Ransom!” Andy says under his breath.

“Mommy had to sign a paper that said I got in an accident. I just don’t go there if Jacob is going to be there,” Audrey shrugs, and sighs.

“Does he still bother you?”

“Not really. He hits the cymbals too loud, so Miss Tatum doesn’t let him have those anymore. Come on, we should really get some donuts. I want two of my pink and gold ones,” she drags them along even if Ransom whispers and asks Andy about who Jacob is. “Here are your plates. Oh, daddy, look there’s plenty of my donuts left.”

Audrey is able to squish in between a little girl, reaching for the donuts she brought, while Andy stares at her curiously. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t skip a beat. That name rolled off her tongue effortlessly, and while Andy is swimming in feels, it worries him. Scott is a non-issue as far as he’s concerned, but what will Audrey think when she realizes what she’s said? Will you be upset? Was it an honest mistake?

He’s spent every night with you and the kids, minus Scott’s weekends. He wakes up every morning with them. Drops them off to school with you. He reads all three of you bedtime stories every night. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves the title, it’s a worry on how everyone else will feel. He doesn’t care about his feelings when something like this can change so much.

“I bet that kid is Jacob,” Ransom motions to a little mischievous boy that gets reprimanded by his dad. “He looks like a trouble maker, that's definitely the brat that hurt Audi.”

“Shh, I’m going through an internal crisis right now,” Ransom furrows his brow as they make it down the line of food. Watching as Audrey fills her plate up with fruit. “Audi, let me carry this to the table, and you grab us some juice boxes.”

“Juice boxes? I was promised beverages,” juice boxes was not on Ransom’s list of things he was willing to drink. He’d been thinking a mimosa at least.

“We’re at a pre-k center.”

“Okay, daddy. Uncle Ann, what is your favorite flavor,” Ransom’s mouth drops open, and Audrey looks at him weird, “Orange juice, okay,” before she skips off, and the two men pick up their plates to walk to the tiny little chairs.

“Is that the first time she’s called you that?”

“Yup.”

“Is that your crisis?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” Ransom gives Miss Tatum a nod as he sits down in the chair, she really was cute, “These are the smallest things I have ever in my life seen,” he states, slotting a too small chair away from the table. He sits down, and glares at Andy. His knees feel like they’re up to his chin, “They are cute, but I look like an idiot,” he follows Andy’s eyes as he watches the man staring at the little girl digging around the cart for the right juice. “It was bound to happen.”

“Eventually. But is this too soon? How do I bring this up? Is she okay? Is she pretending that I’m her dad for today so she’s not embarrassed? Is she confused? I have so many questions running through my head like I’m in court, and all I want to do is stare at that little girl, and wish she was mine. She should be mine.”

“Can I be honest with you?” Andy’s head bobs up and down quickly. He is ready to get home to you, and talk through this with someone who was involved. He trusts Ransom, but this is a family matter. “She is yours,” Andy looks at him confused, “You’ve stepped up for her, her brother, but most importantly stepped up for her mom. You’ve become part of the integral familial unit, and the kids are both thriving. My guess is eventually Scott will quit trying to tear her down, and will eventually back out of the kids' lives a bit more permanently. He already has with Suede. He’s hoping Audi is going to be a good name for him. It’s the only reason he’s kept a somewhat decent relationship with her. By the way, the talk of the assistants is that he doesn't have a photo of his kids on his desk. It’s just him and Taylor, along with his phone wallpaper. Let’s see yours.”

Andy lays his phone on the table, and Ransom has a hearty laugh. “See, you, Doe, and both kids. What’s the other one?”

“Doe sleeping,” he smiles, waving at Audrey. She’d been talking to Miss Tatum about something. Her dimple sinks in as she points over to the table. She really is the cutest here, especially when she’s happy.

“And your fall family photos where you and Suede have actually matching shirts is on your desk. You’ve become their dad. Scott’s just their father. Hey princess, what’s this?”

“Miss Tatum said there’s no orange juice left, but she can go ask if you want her to. But I said you could drink apple cider with us. Uncle Ann! What is that donut?”

Her chubby little finger points at an overly decadent donut piled high with something, and he takes a big bite. Moaning at the deliciousness, “This is a cookie butter donut.”

“I think Jacob brought those,” Audrey giggles, looking up at Andy.

“This isn’t that great. I’ve definitely had better donuts,” he says annoyed. He gives a little glare over to the boy who he has deemed Jacob. He can’t believe he hates a four year old, but said four year old hurt Audrey.

“He he he he he,” she calmly takes a long breath when Andy’s hand lays on her back, “He always brings fancy stuff like that. Mommy says that his mom wants brownie points, but that is a donut. I don’t know what she’s talking about. Umm,” Audrey looks up at Andy. Her pink frosting clad hand lays on his pants, getting a bit of the confection on him, and he doesn’t care. She looks content.

“Thank you for bringing me. I’m sad that Suede can’t have these. But but but me and Mommy will make him some Halloween donuts, also the Pinkalicious cupcakes when you take him somewhere.”

“You’re welcome,” she doesn’t say the title of daddy again, and she also doesn’t remove her hand. Andy’s thoughts are swimming. Swirling thoughts of what this all means, but he can’t deny that Audrey is happy. She seems at ease, and that is all that matters to him. Even if this feels right, and all because you trust him. And he’ll continue to show up again and again, no matter what Scott thinks.

You inhale the hot water deeply. Letting the steam open up your sinuses, while you just stand in the heat. You’d finished cleansing your body, but you need these moments of just breathing. It feels like a never ending battle with Suede’s allergies somehow getting worse. You followed the rules. You didn’t introduce common food allergies to him. You introduced a new item a little at a time, and still it got worse.

He should be allowed to be a normal child, and not have to watch every little thing that he ate. It’s why you made sure to prepare things for him. Always carried snacks that were safe for him. It’s like Scott cursed him in some way. He pushed his distaste for his son onto him, and it made allergies appear or something. He was just two and had so many complications.

Too many complications. It isn’t fair.

You rest your head in your hands, massaging your temples. It had been such a long day. He cried, asking you over and over again why. The nurses said it would only sting a little bit, and immediately he went on edge. Crying uncontrollably because sting now meant bees. It was rough, so you loved hearing that Audrey had the best day possible, despite Scott not showing up again. Hadn’t called. Didn’t even bother giving an excuse. Out of sight out of mind. He’d never bring this up again.

Andy’s hands slide around your waist, and he pulls you into his hard chest. Laying his chin on your head, he keeps you tucked into him, and you drop your own hands, and return his embrace. Burrowing yourself into him, and letting Andy shoulder the heavy weight laying on you. “Honey, you don’t have to come in here to hide. I will listen. I take it today wasn’t a good day?”

“He’s not allergic to bees, that’s a good thing. The seventeen times just caused the breathing issues and swelling. I should be thankful,” that is such a minor thing. You were told to still be cautious, like you wanted him to ever get stung again?

Andy starts to rock you back and forth. You want to make sure your home with him has a huge bathroom like this house. A giant shower for you to comfort Andy, or in this case, him comfort you. Completely naked and vulnerable to each other, and nothing sexual. It’s just purely you and him. “He did add in all shellfish and soy though.”

“Audrey’s going to be very upset then,” leaning back, you stare up at him confused, “Uncle Ann said he wanted to make us some clam chowder,” it’s so silly and goofy, and it shouldn’t matter, but tears well up in your eyes because you hate that it seems like Audrey always gets the leftovers because her brother has allergies.

“She wanted clam chowder?”

“Ehh, she said it sounded gross. We’ll just have a funeral for the clam chowder that never was. She hasn’t tried it, so she doesn’t know what she’s missing. And I’m not so sure about Ransom’s cooking. However, I’m more concerned about what this beautiful woman is doing crying in the shower without me. You’re not alone in this.”

“I know. I just needed a moment to decompress. You didn’t have to see his pitiful face. It got started all wrong. He’s terrified of bees now, and just a mention of them — it was awful.”

Andy’s fingers massage your head as he sways you back and forth. Normally he complains about the water temperature, and even though his skin is turning bright red, he doesn’t say a thing. “Audrey called me daddy today,” gasping, you look into his eyes, and he’s so far away. Remembering the very moment she said it.

“It wasn’t purely an accident. She said it twice. She got pink frosting on my pants. We’ll take it to the dry cleaners, but it was so sweet. She just had her hand resting on my leg, and just would stare up at me with this cheesy grin. Doe, she was so happy today. She got to eat a pink and gold donut, and was proud that we were there. And with me she did show — I don’t even know. It’s silly, but it’s like she was claiming me as her dad to her friends. And who the fuck is Jacob?”

You snort, giving him a kiss to his chin. “Just some kid that has some behavioral issues. I think Audrey tries to befriend him though. So how do you feel?”

“How do you feel?”

“I want my kids to be happy and content. That’s it, and they are. Names are not important. Whether you’re Andy, Na Na, or daddy. So how do you feel?”

He spins the two of you, putting himself in the stream of water while he grabs the shampoo. You pull it out of his hands, and squirt the liquid into your hand before standing on your tippy toes, and washing his hair yourself. Getting a good lather, letting the suds stream down his body. He takes long deep breaths in and out before leaning forward for a sweet kiss.

“I liked it a lot. Is it going too far to say I feel like her dad?” You shake your head no. This is Andy in his element. He was seriously meant to be a father. “I didn’t want to correct her at first because I thought it was a mistake, but then she said it again, and I don’t want this to confuse her. I don’t want this to be a fight for Scott. I don’t want her or Suede to feel they have to call me that. But I liked it.”

“Maybe we should talk to her,” it seemed like a logical start to understanding. It might have just slipped out, she might be confused on what she should call Andy. But it should be discussed with her. Let her know that neither of you cared. “Just with her, we can wait for the next weekend we have them, Suede still takes two naps, and we just have a conversation with her. I’ve been feeling so guilty lately. I feel my baby is growing up too fast, and it’s not because she’s growing up but because she’s having to be an adult with her brother. She’s had so much trauma with the divorce, and his allergies, and she’s not even five. I want to make it a point to have special moments with her.”

“I think that’s the best idea. Not to change the subject, but are you going to wash my body, too? Want to spend some extra time on my dick?” Andy wiggles his brows around, and you snort rolling your eyes. He’s such a teenager sometimes. That’s one way to change the subject.

“Not in the shower.”

“Why not?” He asks, getting all squeaky. You start backing away from him. “Wait, wait. It’s been a hard day, we should take it out on each other’s bodies.”

“We are too old for the shower,” you can just see how this plays out, with someone slipping and falling. Or worse, both of you falling.

“No, we’re not. This is a perfect place to have sex because all our sins get washed down the drain.”

“Those sins cost a lot of money in a water bill, and I am afraid it’s too slippery in here. In theory that sounds extremely sexy. But why don’t you wash your balls, and I’ll lock the door, and then we can make sweet love in bed?”

“You’re mean. You could wash my balls with your mouth,” you give him a quick wink before fully leaving the shower, and Andy hurriedly washes himself. He gives himself a glance into the mirror while he towels off, and then throws it into the hamper. Remaining naked as he walks into the bedroom, and hisses between his teeth.

That’s what the wink was for. Looking all delicious and beautiful, you are on the bed, ass up in the air, while your face is on the mattress. “I take back what I said about you being mean,” watching him grow and harden while he walks closer to you is such an oddly satisfying thing. “Is this all for me?”

“It always was,” he runs his cock through your glistening folds. Using your juices as his personal lube, while he waits on himself to get to full mast. His fingers knead and caress your body, and you wiggle your ass around. Bouncing it, and circling it around before Andy slaps a cheek, causing you to yip. “Are you wanting to punish me, daddy?”

“Don’t start that shit again.”

“If I recall, you kinda got off on me saying that on one of your few visits from college. Everyone was so jealous that I was dating a college man,” Andy’s ego swells, right along with his cock, so you keep talking. “They’d see us out at dinner, and how needy we were for each other. They didn’t hear our whispers of how much we loved each other. How you were already so horny to see me pregnant, but knew it wasn’t the time.”

“Doe,” Andy warns, plunging two fingers into your cunt. His fingers immediately curl as he hits that spongy spot inside of you, and he drives himself in and out. The honey in your pussy create the most lewd sounds, echoing into the bedroom.

“Remember that one time?” his eyes flutter closed as he reminisces, “I told you that you had one time my senior year to knock me up. I was so scared, but at the same time, I wanted it. It was the end of the year, and it would mean that I didn’t have to go to my mom’s college. I could move in with you, and we could begin our life. But…I think this is how it was meant to be, and I love you more today than I could have ever imagined.”

He removes his fingers so quickly, popping his hips forward, and sheaths himself all the way to the hilt. Stabbing you into the depths of your soul, while he swells inside your warmth. His cock aching and throbbing, but he holds still. “I’ll protect you, too, daddy,” your voice whines out the last word, and you get another slap to your ass, “Andy.”

“You play too much.”

“You don’t like it?” Andy grips tightly to your hips, and begins pistoning inside of you. Harsh, sharp movements that leave you clinging to the bedspread. You whimper out his name, trying to push yourself back into him. You want him deeper. You want him all the way into your stomach. You never tire of him, never can get enough, so you wanted him to be welded to your insides.

“I’ll like it more when you talk to our kids about daddy, and it’s me you’re referring to. Doe, I don’t get off on that name. I get off on being a father, and having a family with you. I’m not an overly kinky man,” he pushes into your warmth so hard and deep, your body pushes forward on the bed. “I wouldn’t mind fucking your ass, though.”

“But you’re spanking me,” he does it again, and you sob out his name.

“Because you like it. You enjoy the slaps to your ass, so I will do that for you,” he spanks you again, and then spreads apart your cheeks. Staring so intently on where the two of you connect. Your arousal soaks his cock, and you suck him right back into you. Even your body couldn’t get enough of him.

“Your family loves you, but didn’t give you the attention you deserved. They didn’t care that you were out with me, when you shouldn’t have been. You even said you thought they hoped you got pregnant. And now here they are, traveling around the world, and don’t have a relationship with their grandchildren,” he barrels himself into you, but leans over your body.

Hips snapping him into you at the most toe curling angle, “It’s why we have each other. You and I were meant to be each other’s family.”

“I don’t want therapy during sex,” you mewl, glancing back at Andy. His steel blue eyes capture your own, and he goes deeper.

“You don’t want to talk about it any other time. You don’t have to be the strongest person anymore,” someone had to be strong. And you didn’t care if it was you.

“And neither do you,” Andy thrusts so deeply that you see stars. His grunts louder than normal as his seed spurts into you, and you hope and pray that this is the one that takes.

“You didn’t come,” he pants. He doesn’t leave from inside of you, but tucks his hand under your body as he stimulates your clit.

“But you did. I don’t think you understand the pleasure I get from feeling you,” Andy gives your shoulder a bit of a nibble as he works your bundle of nerves. “How good it feels to know that you still find me sexy, and want to fuck me. And that my body can give you so much pleasure,” his movements become erratic, more rapid and harsh as he tries to get you to the finish line.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives, and sometimes, it just might not happen,” he bites on you again, but this time a bit harder, mixing the pain with the pleasure, “But knowing that I’m the cunt your sinking into,” Andy’s hips start a wave of motions. He’s softening in your cunt, but he pushes you forward, giving you the illusion that sex is still happening, and your body tightens. Winding the coil in your belly up to the point of explosion.

“You will come, or I can’t sleep,” clenching your eyes closed, your head drifts to the bed, and you listen to his voice. Only his voice. Envisioning your new home, full of new memories with Andy. A baby on each of your hips as he plays in the yard with Audrey and Suede with a dog chasing the three of them.

The potential of Suede growing out of his allergies is there, you just had to stay consistent. You would. You and Andy were going to have the picture perfect life. There would be arguments, there would be hard times, but you would be together. You would give everyone the life that they deserved. The life you wanted, and craved.

“Andy!” you can hardly breathe with how much your body is clenched. His love and your pleasure race through your body, bones, and veins, until you can’t even see.

“You’re right there. You’re fluttering around me,” you wonder who the kids would look like. Would they have your lips? Or Andy’s eyes? Would they be tall or short? Would they have health problems? Would they be a girl, a boy? Who would they strive to be? You are going to enjoy whatever they bring to your life.

“Doe, I love you,” he sounds like himself now, but also that young man that you became obsessed with. You and Andy had already created a family all those years ago and didn’t realize it. You were each other’s family, and that’s why nothing else ever worked. It’s why you saw flashes of Andy holding onto your babies as they were born. He was always meant to be in the equation.

Children aren't an obligation to Andy, they are what he wants. It’s why everything is so easy for him. Because this is what he needs. And he craves it with you. Two people that fell in love too young, and somehow made their way back to one another, and nothing had changed. And you can’t wait to see Andy in every new part of his life.

“Andy, I’m coming. My god, I’m coming!” Nothing has ever felt more magical than in this moment. The way that he’s still connected to you as your pussy tightens around him. His grunting breaths fanning over your back, while he coaches you through your high. Life isn’t perfect, but starting today, you’re enjoying every moment for what it is.

You will get a divorce. You will get joint custody of the kids, and it will eventually become full custody. Suede will grow out of his allergies. Audrey will be able to be a child without mothering her little brother. And you will give Andy a biological child.

“Doe, will you marry me?” Andy asks as he kisses down your neck. So much for taking things slow. You didn’t care. You have never stopped loving this man, and you never would. To some this might not seem like the most romantic of proposals, but to you, it is.

The two of you are completely nude and vulnerable to one another. Legs and arms entwined together. You two connect in the most basic animalistic way. Skin on skin, heart to heart, soul to soul. It’s raw and feral, but it’s the most beautiful feeling and something like you’ve ever felt in a lifetime.

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Okay,” he exhales quickly. Smiling against your back. “Okay. When — you know when I get out of you, I’ll get the ring.”

“You have a ring?!” You nearly shout as you try to push him off you. He falls onto the bed on his back laughing. Holding onto his heaving chest, and you sit up in the bed looking at the district attorney like he’s a teenage boy, “Andrew Stephen Barber! You have a ring, and you wait until you and your cum are inside of me to ask?”

“I thought it was kinda sweet. It was in the moment, and we were fused together. It’s totally sweet,” collapsing on top of him, you giggling. It was sweet in a grotesque way. It made sense, even if you’re laughing so hard at the stark differences in proposals. Scott’s was big and extravagant, while Andy’s was just Andy. Literally nothing was between you.

“I feel you’re hornier in your older age.”

“I’m not the only one. Who was riding my cock in the middle of the night last night?”

“I was stressed about the appointment, and your hard on was sticking into my back. Your body was inviting me to it,” he pulls you closer into him, his hand rubbing up and down your back. He really was turning you on by you being able to feel him. You couldn’t help it, so you had to take care of him.

“I’m not complaining. Waking up to you using me to pleasure yourself was sexy as fuck. I’m just proving my point that you’re just as horny as I am, so don’t forget it,” you wouldn’t forget. It was his fault. How could you not be horny when you wake up to someone that looked like Andy? “We should get cleaned back up, and unlock the door, just in case the kids have bad dreams.”

They rarely toddled downstairs to join you and Andy, but the fact that he even thinks about them might showing up warms your heart. He didn’t care to have them in the room with you. “When are you giving me the ring?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll go on a date, and I’ll ask you again. If you say yes twice, then I’ll give you the ring,” as long as the two of you were together, it didn’t matter. You are engaged to Andy. Now to get divorced, and then your life with Andy and your babies can have a fresh start. Next stop is a house. Maybe a dog. Maybe a pregnancy. But it will always be Andy.

Next

Masterlist

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

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy @hisredheadedgoddess28

[barneswinchester]

MCU Masterlist III

as always, I don't own any of these, they're just my absolute favourites.

mcu masterlist I

mcu masterlist II

Bucky Barnes

SMUT 👅

drabble

look at me

bad date

welcome back

ride

on his knees

wake up bj

a taste of submission

a good plowin

bliss

printesa mea

somnophilia

languages of love

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

protective

purgatory

grouch

his safe place

night terrors

my babydoll

sensitive

safe with me

Steve Rogers

SMUT 👅

the game

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

my love is winter

the game

every step of the way

Stucky

SMUT 👅

feral

heat of the moment

a sweet treat

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

initials

I'm pregnant, not dying

brave new world

happy ending

last hope part two

Andy Barber

SMUT 👅

anonymous

Ari Levinson

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

you said I was your favourite

SMUT 👅

forget everything

Loki

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

bad dreams

Lee Bodecker

SMUT 👅

persuasion

[worksby-d]

Can't Say No

Pairing: senator!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: Andy’s romantic gesture catches you on an off day, but it doesn’t keep him from wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. 

Warnings: None

Word count: ~1,100

a/n: This was an idea I had yearssss ago for this series, but it can be read alone atp. Enjoy 🩵

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The loud ring of your phone startles you awake. Based on the darkness still filling your room, you can tell it’s not your alarm yet. You groan as you reach for the device and rub your eyes when you see Andy’s name on the lit up screen. 

“What?” You answer in a short tone, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Well good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” he teases. 

He knows if you saw the smile on his face, you’d roll your eyes. 

“Get up,” he says before you can get mad at him for waking you up. “We’re going for a hike. Gonna see the sunrise.”

“Andy…” You grumble, hiding your face against your pillow. “I have to go to work though. I don’t have time.”

“I called in for you,” he assures. “You’re not going in today.”

“What? You can’t just do that…”

It’s almost comical. You’re dangerously close to dropping your irritated facade and laughing at him. 

“Well, I did, so…” 

Silence on your end worries him that you’ve managed to fall back asleep during the split second of silence he gave you. 

“Are you going to get up or what?”

He hears a small groan. Promising. He has to work a little harder. 

“I’m in your driveway, by the way. Did I mention that?”

“Oh my God,” you chuckle, letting out a quiet, frustrated sigh. “Give me a couple minutes, okay?”

When he hangs up, you have to put in a lot of energy to sit up and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. You’ve been under a lot of pressure at work, deadline after deadline constantly looming over you. Maybe a day off isn’t such a bad thing. But you can’t help but feel like it’s the worst time to do it. 

You do your best to let it go for now though and get ready. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” you reiterate when you hop in his car. 

“They can’t say no to the senator,” he smirks, leaning over to give you a kiss. 

“Please tell me you didn’t pull that card,” you mumble against his lips, wincing at the thought. 

“I’m kidding,” he laughs. “I told them you lost your voice, that’s why I called for you.”

“Oh, thank gosh.”

It’s easy to act annoyed with him, but everything he does is endearing. Including this stunt. He spent the last few days in D.C. and could easily be home sleeping after getting back late last night, but instead, he’s determined to spend the morning with you. 

He tells you to rest as he backs out of your driveway. And he surely doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re too tired to even ask where he’s taking you. You drift off pretty much instantly. 

You gain consciousness for just a moment when you feel him reach over and gently pull your hood up to protect your head from the cold car window you’re leaning against. 

You don’t have a clue how much time has passed when you feel yourself waking up again. This time, you peek out the window, and you can tell he’s pulling over. 

It’s a trail you frequent, usually not on such cold mornings though. The air has a crispness to it when he helps you out of the car and you huddle against his side as you start the trek. 

You can’t help but mutter about how cold and tired you are. It’s probably every couple hundred feet, but who’s keeping track…

You’re lucky Andy knows not to take it personal. 

He stops you once you guys reach an open area, pulling you to the edge of a cliff where you can see the sun starting to come up and light the sky. 

“Fuck,” you murmur through chattering teeth. You bring your hands up to your face to blow warm breath into your palms. 

Andy doesn’t think before he asks, “Why didn’t you bring mittens?”

As if he didn’t spring this whole excursion on you while you were more than half asleep…

The glare you give him has him holding his hands up in defense, wisely choosing to stop talking. 

The longer you stand there, the peacefulness chips away at the bitter mood you’ve got going on. 

“It is really pretty,” you admit quietly, leaning closer to him again. 

“Yeah, it is,” he smiles. 

But he’s not looking in the same direction. You can feel his gaze on you. 

“Are you looking at me right now?” You ask quietly, sighing before looking beside you and having your suspicions confirmed. “Cheesy.”

He surprises you when he reaches for your hands. There’s a slight tremor in his as he guides you to turn toward him.

“I didn’t come here to watch the sunrise…”

A look of confusion washes over your face. “What do you mean–”

“I’ve been ready to do this for a while, and I’m tired of waiting,” he starts. “Everytime we spend a few days apart, I miss you more than I ever even imagined possible. I know I threw you for a loop this morning, but I couldn’t wait to see you. Especially so I could ask…”

You freeze–not from the cold this time–as you realize what he’s doing. 

Your eyes follow his as he drops to one knee in front of you and shows you a ring that you didn’t even notice him grab. 

“Will you marry me?”

“Oh, Andy,” you gasp. 

You’ve never said yes to anything so quickly. You don’t even give him time to put the ring on you before you’re pulling him back up so you can hug him. 

He’s smiling ear to ear when he eventually pulls away just enough to slip the jewelry on your finger. 

It glimmers back at you, but your smile fades into a pout, catching Andy off guard. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been such a bitch all morning,” you whisper, thinking about how short you’ve been with him and how much you’ve complained. “God, I’m sorry.”

He lets out a laugh like a sigh of relief, pulling you close again to wrap his arms around you reassuringly. 

“It’s okay,” he promises, holding you tight. “I know you’ve been under so much stress. If I could, I would take it all off your shoulders.”

“Thank you,” you sniffle. It’s partly from the cold, but mostly an overwhelming amount of emotions. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

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

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans One Shot Rec List

here you will find all of my favourite chris evans + characters fanfiction recommendations, i have many more to add and will continue to update this list. Please don’t forget to reblog these amazing writers fics as they deserve so much love!💘💘

Walk On The Wild Side - @hansensgirl

you just wanted to go for a stroll down the road—but he wants you to take a walk on the wild side. (Dark!Chris Evans)

You Better Not Pout, Better Not Cry - @hansensgirl

they know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. (Dark!Multi character) - i would add every single one of her fics to this list if i could💘

Sinful Devotion - @evansbby

Lloyd promises to let you go, but he demands a depraved repayment. (In other words, Lloyd pops your cherry)- my favourite writer in the whole universe💘

Smothered With Bliss - @whereireid

Is it hard being married to the most influential man in America? You most certainly think it is. — Steve Rogers: Captain America, the heart of his nation, the soul of his country. After returning home from a particularly bad day at work, Steve finally snaps, deciding you need re-educating on how to be the perfect housewife.

The Night - @misshoneybee

Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?

Little Miss Red - @anika-ann

Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight, when you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.

Unholy Errand - @buckets-and-trees

You're caught in the crosshairs when a hit goes out for your boss. (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark! God The Bounty Hunter + Ransom Drysdale)

What A Shirt Can Tell - @justalonelyslytherin

5+2 times Colin asked 'Is that my shirt?' plus the one time he got asked it. Aka a look through the journey of Colin and his girl, each in which his shirts play an important role.

Start Again - @wkemeup

A chemical spill, uncontrollable desires rushed to the surface, an unbridled need, and the consequences in the aftermath (Steve Rogers)

Daddy’s Little Pet - @sinner-as-saint

You and Steve are the epitome of ‘opposites attract’. He is the American hero, a super soldier who is known for his bravery, and righteousness and for being the one leading the Avengers. You, on the other hand, are a well-known fashion designer in the city. Creator and owner of your own brand, and elite boutique. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like you and Steve would be compatible. But you surprisingly are. And behind closed doors, in secrecy – you two are each other’s solace, each other’s definition of home. He’s your strong, loving and caring man. And you, his lovely, little pet whom he adores more than life itself.

Good Girls And Skype Calls - @youre-deadangel

chris gives you a treat for behaving.

Afternoon Delight - @christowhore

you're steve's live-in housekeeper and find your boss and his friends having a bbq on a heatwave stricken afternoon. they invite you to join them and show you all the pleasurable ways to cool down from the sun. (SoftDark!Steve Rogers + Sam Wilson + Bucky Barnes)

Got You - @hispeculiartreasure

The two of you had grown close over the last year; first as teammates, then as friends. You had been distant at the start, just as he had. Slowly, agonizingly - blood, sweat, and tears were definitely involved - walls were dismantled. A current of trust ran between you, one which caught Steve by surprise. As dense as he could be about matters of the heart, suspicions of his blossoming romantic feelings being mutual had proven true with a simple kiss. (Sex Pollen, Steve Rogers)

Golden Boy - @bucksfucks

you’ve always called steve the golden boy, but he snaps one night and decides to show you he’s anything but. (Roommate!Steve Rogers)

It Must Be That Old Evil Spirit - @vonalyn

There’s something unsettling about his demeanor but you can’t quite put your finger on it. As if there’s something hiding beneath the surface just waiting to pry its way out of the tight shirt across his broad frame and tear your throat out. Maybe it’s your general unease around others when you’re traveling alone, or maybe it’s just him.  (Jack-O-Lantern!Ari Levinson)

Stupid Kitty - @onsunnyside

Your father wrongfully entrusted Lloyd to care for you—it’s too bad he’ll never get you back. (Lloyd Hansen x Cat-Hybrid!Reader)

Manners- Or Lack Of Them - @rogerswifesblog

Ransom wants you, the sweet girl at the bar…but you’re not what he expected you to be. (Sub!Ransom Drysdale + Mommy!Reader)

Shadow Boxer - @mypoisonedvine

you’re stuck in the same destructive cycle with ransom, but maybe you don’t want to get out of it. (Angst + Smut, Ransom Drysdale)

It’s Not A Challenge - @gagmebucky

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. (Boxer!Steve Rogers)

Pretty Princess - @frostironfudge

Andy Barber gets jealous when he presumes you shared a room with one of his associates.

Over And Over - @frostironfudge

Ari Levinson is a possessive man, he'll punish you till you apologise.

Such A Good Boy - @lilacevans

You and Ari attend a business meeting, and at the beginning the other boss you're meeting with just assumes that Ari is the one in charge; however, that's not the case. While you look dainty, angelic, like you couldn't even hurt a fly, you're the one who runs the family and will not hesitate to fuck up anyone who stands in your way. (Puppy!Ari Levinson) - one of my favourite fics EVER.💘

Breathe - @buckyownsmylife

The one where the new co-star is obsessed with the idea of making Chris hers, but he makes sure to show her you’re the only one for him.

Justified - @dbnightingale24

Ransom has always been the center of your world you’ve always been the center of his. However, when he can’t change his ways and you’re tired of the heartbreak, is it really so bad if you think it’s best to walk away? Ransom thinks so. - one of the sweetest most talented writers i have ever met💘

My, My, My - @1800jjbarnes

Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.

All The Time - @geminixevans-stan

He is one of the most powerful men on earth but there’s more worse than him (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark!Nick Fowler)

Snack - @katherineswritingsblog

he just wants his snack- which is you.

Watchful Eyes - @espinosaurusrexex

When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself. (CEO!Steve Rogers)

Cherry On Top - @dcllbows

you’ve found your favorite way to help your daddy with his grownup work. (Ddlg, Daddy!Andy Barber)

Voracious - @arilevinsons

The first time he set eyes on you; you were his sudden infatuation. (DarkProfessor!Ari Levinson)

Best Friend’s Dad - @imyourbratzdoll

you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.

The Breeding Ground - @fl0werfae

To others, Ari’s house was a breeding ground for him and his omega, but to him it was just fulfilling her purpose of carrying his pups. (Alpha!Ari Levinson)

My Sweet Pea - @mavsstar

Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much. (Trailer Park Au)

Like A Movie Scene In The Sweetest Dream - @worksby-d

Johnny’s always been on your ��no” list, but you've finally agreed to work with him. (Pornstar!Johnny Storm)

Easy As Pie - @navybrat817

You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat.

[navybrat817]

Easy as Pie

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

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

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

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

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

You were looking forward to that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, you really do spoil me.”

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

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

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

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

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

You wouldn’t deny him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How long would he tease you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come.”

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

You loved him, too.

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[anika-ann]

Walking Back Into My Own Myth - A.B.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if. As if you were that.

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

The one place where you all truly came from.

The one place that loved you no matter what.

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

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

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

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

And so did your love for the woods.

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

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

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

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

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

Mocking was the right word. Goddamn bullying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hypocrisy of a small town.

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

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

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

Would you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the-“

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

An echo of a voice.

A soundless whisper of your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come to me.

I need you.

Fight.

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

Don’t you give up.

Come find me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come, my love.

Keep walking.

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

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

Come to me.

I’ll keep you warm.

Keep you safe.

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

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

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

A light.

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

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

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

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

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

And missing it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s get you out of these.”

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

“I’ll get you warm in no time.”

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

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

Your shirt followed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

That he was. Good.

And incredibly handsome.

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

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

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

He truly must have been a figment of your imagination.

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

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

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

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

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

A warm voice; a haunting whisper.

Come to me.

I’ll keep you warm.

I’ll keep you safe.

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

Come, my love.

I need you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, an entirely different experience awaited you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck-“

Come, my love.

I’ll keep you warm.

I’ll keep you-

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

“Everything alright, little bird?”

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

God gracious-

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

Without any prompting, he moved back.

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

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

“Andy. You can call me Andy.”

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

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

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

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

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

And so did the space.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You needed to get a goddamn grip on yourself.

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

“Hey. Good enough fit?”

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

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

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

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

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

“’Kay.”

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

You needed to get a grip on yourself. Fast.

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

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

Come to me.

Come, my love.

I’m all yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mostly, you reminded yourself self-deprecatingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened at the lake?”

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

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

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

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

I’ll keep you safe.

And then, a sultry one:

I’ll keep you.

“Oh.”

You laughed nervously, shoulders slumping.

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

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

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

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

“Good?”

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

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

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

That stunned you.

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

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

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

You taste like Eden on my tongue, honey.

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

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

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

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

I’ll keep you warm.

I’ll keep you safe.

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

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

But it didn’t, did it?

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

Not until Andy.

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

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

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

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

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

Of course he was hesitant.

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

You scoffed.

“Sure,” you echoed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He might as well be staring into your soul.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was it?

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

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

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

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

“Andy, please-“

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

What was wrong with you-

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

You deserve everything.

I will give it to you.

You’re mine to keep and cherish-

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

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

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

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

Interest in you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh honey, you know my favourite taste.

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

Storm. Danger and freedom. Freedom to be.

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

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

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

Try me, honey.

Oh? Look at you, giving up so easy.

Giving yourself up to me.

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

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

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

Let me, honey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you’d rather we sit in silence?”

But you make such beautiful noises for me.

Don’t hide from me.

Let me hear it all.

You were going to suffocate.

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

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

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

“Mmm, me too. Why is that?”

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

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

And sinful. Powerful.

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

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

“I should go-“

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

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

But I don’t think you do.

I think you want something else.

All you need is to ask, honey.

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

“I-“

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright, little bird?”

No. No you weren’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m… not a queen.”

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

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

Let me, honey.

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

Ler me claim you.

And fuck, you should go.

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

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

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

Why resist, little bird?

You’re already mine, aren’t you?

Always have been.

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

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

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

And as the mirages dispersed, the throbbing need stayed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Andy, please-“

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

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

As fucking if you wanted to escape this-

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

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

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

“Oh honey. What do you need from me?”

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

Yes, yes, yes, again-

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

More, more, more-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Andy-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until you couldn’t.

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

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

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

And Andy wouldn’t let you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Andy…”

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

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

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

A breathless scream tore from your throat.

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

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

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

“Andy, please-“

“I’ve got you, honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes-“

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

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

And so was your need.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

Anything. Anything, just more, more-

“Yes- Andy, please.”

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

Please, just-

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

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

“Need me-“

“Need you. Only you- please.”

“As you wish, little bird.”

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

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

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

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

You were going to die.

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

You didn’t want to die!

“N-no, please, please, Andy-“

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

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

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

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

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

Compassion?    

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

And you did.

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

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

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

“Are you ready, little bird?”

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

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

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

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

You wailed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Andy…”

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

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

“That’s my pretty little bird.”

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

“I’ll be right back, honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My little bird.

I’ll keep you safe.

I’ll keep you warm.

You deserve everything and I will give it to you.

You are mine to love and cherish and protect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did not seem to mind.

“How are you feeling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forever mine.

Forever yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sight twisted your heart.

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

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

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

Your pulse skyrocketed at the gravity of his words.

It sounded terrifying; it sounded definitive.

It sounded wicked.

And it sounded right.

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

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

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

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

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

And your heart ached and called for his.

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

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

“Oh little bird…”

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

“What if they come looking for me?”

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

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

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

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

“What are you, Andy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Warmth, yes. Humour? Not in the slightest.

“Yes, that’s possible.”

“But… how? Why?”

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

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

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

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

“Little bird?”

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

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

“…fantasies.”

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart stopped.

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

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

“But--- but does that-“

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

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

I’ll keep you safe.

I’ll keep you.

I’d never hurt you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me, honey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How- how do you-”

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

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

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

“Little bird…”

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

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

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

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

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

Two: he needed to stop.

“You saved me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he didn’t.

It only solidified your decision.

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Oh Andy…”

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

His lips tore away from yours with an urgent plea.

“Show me, love.”

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

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

Oh Andy.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[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

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*:·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✧

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[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 10

Summary: Happy Thanksgiving

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, "hut" Suede, sad Audrey, mean sister/aunt, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 8.6K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You lean over your son’s hospital bed. His tiny little body somehow looks even smaller now laying here passed out and helpless. Petting over his face, and sniffling when Andy calmly walks into the room, “How’s he doing?” He kisses your temple before leaning to kiss Suede’s forehead.

“He’s asleep. He’s okay, but a few ribs have been fractured due to the CPR. Nothing unusual,” the words are so heavy leaving your mouth; it’s the only way you can say them out loud. Nothing about this is usual. To think it could have been avoided completely. “They want him to stay the night here to monitor him.”

A silence falls over the room. You’re both beyond exhausted. You’re thankful that he fell back asleep in the ambulance. “He’s hurting so much, and there’s nothing I can do for him,” Andy pulls you into his warm embrace, and you bury your face in his chest. Everything is crashing down on you at that moment. Your baby is in pain, and there’s nothing you can do.

“How’s Audrey?” you wish you could hold her. Comfort your sweet angelic girl. Now that you have had time to breathe, you think of her pitiful voice, worrying about Suede dying.

Andy pulls you back to stare at your worn face. He’s never thought you looked as old as you feel, but right now you look so tired. Exhausted beyond what sleep could give you. “Ransom called on the way over here. Linda met them at Harlan’s. She’s okay, but worried about her brother and mom. He wants to know if you’d like him to bring her here to visit for a bit?” you respond by nodding your head.

You need to comfort her, too. As much as she worries about her brother on a daily basis, you know she’s not focused on anything but Suede, wondering how he’s doing. She needs to see he’s breathing, and he’s alive. Plus, you just want to hold her. “Did she look scared? I couldn’t — Andy, he needed me more.”

“Honey, nobody blames you for having to ignore her for a moment,” you wish there were two of you.

“But she’s always getting pushed to the side for his health, and it was her birthday, and…”

“This isn’t your fault,” he interrupts. His voice is so cold as he pulls you off his chest, “None of this is your fault. You had seconds to make a decision, and because of that our boy is alive,” ours. Andy is a better father. He deserved the title.

“Can I keep Suede from Scott? I don’t want him or Audrey around them. I can’t trust them. I’ll go to jail if I have to, but I-I-I-I I can’t lose my babies.”

“Shh,” he pulls you back into a bear hug, petting over your head. “Ray is going to push an emergency custody hearing, that you won’t have to be there for. This is a life and death situation, so no. You do not have to allow Scott to see the kids. I can’t — I can’t promise you sole custody. But this is enough to have supervised visitation,” it wasn’t ideal. But it was better than nothing. You couldn’t allow your babies there with him and Taylor.

Something about the whole situation just bubbles in your gut. Things have shifted. While you don’t think things were done on purpose, lazy negligence is still a form of child abuse. You can’t risk it anymore. You won’t. Your kids deserve better than that.

Ransom clears his throat behind you, because of course Andy told him to bring Audrey by already. He knew that you needed to see your daughter as much as she needed you. Sniffling you let go of Andy. Bending over, you rush towards Audrey, and pick your tiny little girl up. Squeezing her so tightly. “Mommy, I was so scared.”

“I know, baby. I was, too. But Suedey is so strong. He’s sleeping. And his breathing is good. He’s got some small fractures, and he’s in some pain, but he’s good. I’m sorry this happened on your birthday.”

“It’s okay,” no it wasn’t. “I didn’t want a birthday party anyways. I don’t want another one ever again,” you hope she didn’t mean that. Hope that this didn’t fully ruin her thoughts on birthdays all together. “Can we still go eat? Maybe soft play?”

“Suede can’t bounce around for a little bit. His chest has to heal. But we can go to eat. We could ask a friend if they’d like to go, and Andy and Suede can do something else?” She crinkles her nose, shaking her head.

“Oh. No, that’s okay,” it isn’t fair to Suede, but it isn’t fair to Audrey either. She’s a trooper and never blames him, but sometimes you wish she wasn’t so understanding. That she would ask questions. You fear she’s just suppressing those thoughts, and perhaps one day she’ll have an outburst and hate Suede for it. “How about his favorite pizza and then a movie.”

“How about what Audrey wants?”

“It’s okay. Can I see bubba?” You respond by walking her to the side of his bed. Tilting her head as she looks at him, she reaches out a small hand to pet over his, “Did Taylor do it on purpose?”

“I think Taylor just doesn’t think sometimes.”

“Then daddy should have checked for allergies?”

“Maybe mommy should have,” Andy clears his throat, and you turn to look at him. He just shakes his head, and reaches out his hand to place it on the small of your back. Silently telling you again that this isn’t your fault. It’ll take you some time before you believe that. If ever. You’re the main caregiver, and you should have known that Scott and Taylor weren’t responsible enough. And you’re the one that made them have Suede, too.

You could have brought him later. You could have kept an eye out for him, “Doe, you’re spiraling,” find you a man that knows what you’re feeling without being told. Find one that doesn’t make you cry, that holds you when you can’t stand up. Find one that makes you a better person. A better parent. And you did.

You inhale deeply, giving Audrey a kiss, “I know. Audrey, you are the bravest five year old that I know.”

“Suede is braver.”

“He’s brave because he has a brave big sister,” she buries her face into your neck, and you feel her tears. She was so scared. Still is. “He’s going to be okay, sissy.”

“You promise?” You would make sure he was okay, and he would continue to be.

“I do, baby. Now,” you pull her back to look at you, using your hands to wipe away the excess tears on her chubby cheeks. “Do you want to sleep here with me and Andy? Suede will be going home tomorrow.”

She nods her head, holding back onto you again. “Andy, did you…?”

“I got us all a change of clothes, honey. Ransom, thanks, man,” he gives his colleague, and friend, a hard handshake, and you thank him silently.

“Thank you, uncle Ann,” Ransom steps behind you, and out of character, kisses her on her head before patting your back, and leaving your family of four. The way Audrey clings to you, you wonder if she knows that you can’t let her see her daddy as of right now. It’s just something you physically can’t do. He doesn’t deserve them. Or your kindness.

“Ouch, mama,” Suede holds onto his chest after you ask him to pick up his dirty clothes. “Huts.”

“Suede,” Andy pops his head into the bedroom. Suede furrows his brows, but leans over to pick up the discarded pajamas, and tosses them into the hamper.

“Me tied!” he whines, stomping his foot for emphasis.

“I know you’re tired, buddy. But you can’t keep using your chest hurting as a way to get out of things. The doctor said you have to start moving again,” Suede huffs out a puff of air, and sits on his bed. Crossing his arms a bit too hard, his angry face turns into a pout, and he reaches his arms up for you. “Buddy, you can’t move too fast.”

“Come here, baby,” reaching down, you collect him in your arms, rocking him back and forth, “You okay?”

“Chess. It huts,” you know it did. You saw the x-rays. See the bruising still. “Me oom. Miss it.”

“We’re just going to be gone for a week,” Andy gives him a quick kiss to his head. “Doe, we gotta get going. Let me go get the princess. We’ve got to catch our flight. iPads are charged. Snacks are packed. Suede’s medicine is in mommy’s bag. And we’re going to Michigan!”

“Aye!” He claps his little hands together, forgetting about his sore chest. Distraction was the best tactic for him.

“Princess Audrey! Are you done brushing your teeth?” Andy jumps from the side of the door, and Audrey squeals. Laughing as she puts her toothbrush on her own bathroom counter. “Mommy, Suede, and I are ready. What about you?” She nods her head, jumping into his arms. “Lights off! Let’s get our butts to the airport.”

“Andy — daddy, I’ve never flown before. Is it scary?” You grab the kids’ backpacks out of the hall, glancing at Andy and your sweet angel. Even though she’s struggling on what she wants to call Andy, you love that she still wants to call him anything. He’d taken such good care of her while you tended to Suede, and then, you’d switch, so you can spend time with her. Not having to do this alone is making life so much more enjoyable.

“Of course not. You and Suede have some toys, and your iPads…”

“Mimis,” it’s a running joke now to make sure that minis are added to iPads every time, it made all the difference to clarify that they are minis. It’s one of Suede’s favorite pastimes. “Nini and Papa!”

Time to see your parents. And sister. And brother. They hadn’t seen you since Suede turned one, and then not long after your world slowly started to change. Ignoring all the signs that Scott was no good. Even your mother told you, practically begged you not to marry him. She’d said that she had a car ready to take you away from the venue. Your dad told her to mind her business. Oh well, Nini and Papa’s here we go.

——

“Do we get to sleep in uncle Ryan’s bed?” Both kids had been full of chatter since landing. They enjoyed flying, and did well, and the first time flyer baggies you gave to each passenger went well.

“No! Me seep wif mama daddy!” The two of them trudge up the steps. Suede grunting as he pulls the suitcase that he insisted he roll. “No no Uck Yan.”

“Who is yuck?”

“Nini!” The two of them scream, dropping their suitcases on the porch, and your mom bends down to see them better. Opening up her arms for a hug.

“Easy on Suede’s chest,” she grimaces, before gently hugging them. You reach for the bigger suitcase before Andy swoops to the back of the car. He almost pushed her hand off of it.

“Let me get these. You go on,” you want to help. You’re not helpless.

“I can get one of them.”

“No,” he answers with an abrupt finality. “Go with the kids,” you don’t know how to take that comment. It kind of hurts your feelings that he was short with you. And he didn’t even smile when saying it. You can help with luggage. They were your dern suitcases anyways. You had to do it by yourself when you were with Scott.

Suede pulls his shirt down, revealing his chest bruise, and telling his Nini ouch. “Hey mom,” you say, giving her the biggest hug.

“Hey Andy,” she says over your shoulder, ignoring you to watch your fiance lug the suitcases that you could have helped him with. “I’m glad the two of you finally came to your senses. I never liked the first one.”

“Mother!” Audrey makes a face at your mom, but Suede grabs Andy’s hand, repeating my daddy. And you just want to change the conversation away from Scott, “Is Ryan here?”

“He’s in the backyard with your father. Can Suede run?” That’s all he ever does some days.

“Chess me un ast. Atch me,” he sprints into the house, stopping when he has no idea which way to go. Looking back at Audrey who walks with him, shrugging.

“Audi, keep walking all the way straight back,” you tell them, nodding in the direction to the back porch.

“Andy, why don’t you take them out back. We’ll take the luggage upstairs,” you mother smiles so sweetly at Andy. You know he’s attractive, but she didn’t have to look at him like that.

“No,” he’s being ridiculous. You can carry the damn luggage. “I’ll put it by the stairs. Doe, don’t take them upstairs,” you roll your eyes as he grabs each of your babies’ hands in one of his, and your frustration all but disappears with how sweet he looks with them. Your vision goes a bit blurry watching as they walk towards the back door.

Finally get to enjoy the thing you’ve always wanted when pain radiates through your tit, and you yelp, glaring at your mom, “You just hit me!”

“They look quite full. Are you pregnant?” the woman smirks at you. First she slaps your boob, and now she’s smirking.

“No,” you start to walk away from her. You need to pee. It was a long ride. She follows you. Meeting your every step, “Drop it, mother.”

“Mother,” she mocks. “Why won’t Andy let you carry the luggage?” It was a good question, but one you didn’t have the answer to.

“Because…”

“I called to talk to the kids the other day, and you and Suede were napping,” he was tired, and looked so snuggly. It wasn’t your fault.

“So?” What is she going on about?

“You are looking fuller.”

“I am stressed!” Does she understand the stress you’ve been under? You just moved into your new home, and there’s boxes everywhere. You’re staying at home with Suede because you have a heavy fear that he will eat something he shouldn’t. Scott hasn’t even called his children. You’re going through a divorce. You eventually will plan an elopement of sorts. You are fucking stressed.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I mean it as — I saw you pregnant with Audrey. And your boobs are sensitive.”

“You slapped my tit,” okay, Andy made the same complaint. What the hell?

“I’ll ask Andy how sensitive they are.”

“Oh my god! Do not talk to Andy about my titties. You know. I told you, I can’t have more children.”

“You know,” she smirks as you walk away from her. You have to pee. “I always thought the problem was more the limp dick you were married to,” you giggle as you sit on the toilet. Leave it to your mom who had no filter to say anything like that. “I mean, think about it, maybe your stress with being his wife caused more of your issues, and he was the main problem.”

“He gave me two kids.”

“Yeah, and you did nothing,” your eyes go blank as you stare at the sink. Finished, but not getting up. It had been too long since you had a period. You have had sex with Andy more than you ever did with Scott in a year.

“Would you wipe your puss and get out here, so I can talk to you,” you didn’t really want to. You’re having a bit of a moment, and not really a crisis, but an emergency in your brain. What did this mean? She screams your name with her mouth pressed against the door, and you wipe. Pulling your leggings up, and wash your hands.

When you open the door, your mom is just smiling at you. “Andy suspects it, doesn’t he?” He’d ask you to take a test every time you had sex if you were being honest.

“He asked me to take a test.”

“Then take one,” that sounds too easy. Too simple. And you’ve already accepted you can’t have children anymore.

“But what if…”

“It’s negative? Who cares? You’re with the man I always knew was perfect for you. You’re with the man that will give you his life, and my grandbabies. If it’s negative, you keep bumping uglies until it happens, and if it doesn’t happen, there’s other options. What are you truly scared of? Scoot to find out that Andy can knock you up, while he couldn’t.”

“Two kids. Two beautiful perfect kids. Even Suede,” your mama pulls you in for a hug. Her hands move up and down your back, while she holds you like you were still a child.

“No matter what the asshole said about Suede, that little boy is beautiful and perfect. And he doesn’t deserve to see that little boy. Never did. But aren’t you glad that life led you back to Andy, so NaNa can become daddy?” Yes. You’re very grateful that Audrey and Suede had Andy. “How about you go outside with everyone, and I’m going to get a pregnancy test, and some alcohol that you can’t have. But I do want to see how Andy reacts to you trying to drink a beer.”

“You’re so mean.”

“And you’re so pregnant. Go spend some time with your daughter. I’m sure Uncle Ryan, dad, and Andy can keep Suede occupied. Maybe you and her can go get a mani/pedi? I hear that Julie has a couple openings in about thirty minutes,” you grin, pulling her in for another hug. “I know things have been tough with Suede, but make sure my girl gets some special treatment and one on one time with mommy, too, okay?”

Nodding your head, you pull away from her, and wipe your eyes. You really want to have special time with Audrey. As mature and patient as she is, she deserves it. “Thanks, mother.”

“I really hate it when you call me that. It always sounds so derogatory. By the way, we’ve got everything Suede proof as far as food goes. But don’t hesitate to look over everything just in case,” even your parents could do this. Make sacrifices for you so, when their father couldn’t, “I don’t know how desserts will work.”

“I’m going to make him something. Audrey loves it, too. They won’t even notice the pumpkin pie,” your mother looks at you over smiling, and shaking her head. “What?”

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“If it means keeping my boy safe, I just do it. Andy is aware of his allergies. He also can read labels. And there’s still plenty of snacks in their backpacks. Suede can get a bit snacky if you don’t watch him,” but what toddler didn’t?

“Sweetheart, go get Audrey and go see Julie. Make sure she gets glitter on her tiny little fingernails. Does she ever grow?”

“She will. She’s just petite. Leave her alone,” she was so cute being tiny. Suede has nearly caught up with her height wise. You hate to think you have a five year old. You’d love to keep her tiny and innocent. So the fact that she is so tiny, you like it. Makes her seem younger. “When will Morgan be here?”

Your mom cringes as she turns away from you, “What now?” You ask, already annoyed at the baby girl. Neither of your parents want to admit how spoiled she is.

“She’ll be here the night before Thanksgiving. Ryan’s ex is bringing Cooper and Conner on Thanksgiving, so you may have to give up a room,” you didn’t care. The plan is to have the kids in Ryan’s old room with the bunks, but you didn’t care if they just wanted to snuggle up with you and Andy. Sometimes you liked it when they just wanted to be with you. “Morgan…”

“Has a problem with me getting a divorce, but not Ryan. Got it. I’m taking Audrey to get our nails done,” you and Morgan are just too different. Enough of an age gap that you just seem like you are from two different worlds. She is babied. By everyone. She really didn’t like you moving to Massachusetts. Had a few choice words to you when you left Scott. She always got along better with him anyways.

If he was any type of man, he would call your kids. You wouldn’t deny him talking, or FaceTiming them. You just didn’t want him to be alone with them. You hope he gets sunburned in Cancun. And even that didn’t cover all the ways you want Scott to suffer, but most of all, you just want him out of your life. More importantly, you’re children.

——

“Uck Yan,” your brother slowly looks towards you, narrowing his eyes at the name Suede had bestowed on him. “Me tong. Me hut. Me otay!” He uses big hands and gestures to talk about what had happened, and you cuddle in closer to Andy. Your hand rubs over his chest, while his is just slightly below your ass, caressing you gently. You’re essentially in his lap anyways. The kids are cozy with Ryan. Your parents have already ventured to bed.

“I think that my sister has some brave kids on her hand, you, too, Audi,” she doesn’t smile, but shifts uncomfortably.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Suede shh,” she gets out of Ryan’s lap, and you nearly think she’ll come to you Andy, but instead she goes to the beanbags on the floor, and of course Suede follows. Sitting closer to the tv.

“Andy, I didn’t know if I would ever see you again. You’re still as gross as I remember. Except now you don’t scramble away from each other when someone comes into a room,” you roll your eyes, but cuddle even closer to Andy. He’s always so warm. “Has he attempted to call?” Ryan looks at your leg where Andy’s grip gets even tighter, and nods understanding. “Maybe he’s scared?”

“I don’t care if he is. It’s nothing compared to how your sister and his daughter felt,” his grip softens. You keep your eye on the kids, but they have no inclination on what you’re discussing now. You have your feelings towards Scott, but you weren’t going to push them on your babies. They’ll come to the conclusion all on their own.

“I know. I just…”

“You sound like Morgan,” you stop him. Morgan always defends Scott against you. Scott is always a saint. He is perfect and can do no wrong. But where was he when Suede passed out from lack of oxygen? Where was he when his song was turning blue?

“No,” Ryan answers softly. He scoots to the edge of the sofa, and stretches. “I just don’t always see things as black and white. And I like giving people the benefit of the doubt.”

“We did,” Ryan nods to Andy. He can tell in the tone of Andy’s voice that this isn’t something he could explain away. There is no discussion. You tried with Scott, long past when you should. Your children’s health is not something you’re going to be lenient with anymore. You came too close to losing Suede.

Scott probably does feel a tinge of guilt. And maybe he is scared because he was the parent in charge. He should be scared. Him and Taylor moved into that ugly house the same day you took the final box out of there. Suede was already running to the car, while Audrey hugged your neck as the two of you stared into the front door.

If you had it your way, the kids would never be back at this house. It didn’t feel like home. It never did. You left most of the furniture, dishes, whatever you felt Scott paid for with his money. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of holding that over your head. It just feels like a time capsule of some of the worst days of your life. But some of the best when you remember Andy building a fort with them for the first time, and it’s still a favorite pastime of theirs, now they have a bigger living room to build in. New and better memories will be created at the new home.

The kids don’t have to be afraid to bring their toys in there to play. Audrey didn’t do her ‘courtroom homework’. Suede could have his hands on everything in the house. He could make a mess, and you would assist him to clean it up. The difference in the behavior is shocking. The new house — home, your home. Your home brings so much rebirth. You all needed it.

Speaking of rebirth. “Guys, I think it’s time to go to bed. Are you sleeping in uncle Ryan’s room or…?”

“Uck Yan! Me seep Uck Yan!”

“Mommy, I don’t want to sleep on the top bunk.”

“It’s okay. You can sleep on the bottom with Suede. It’s big enough. Alright, stairs, and we’ll do our tucking in, and book for the night,” they both jolt up in a fit of giggles, and head towards the stairs a bit too speedy, but they quickly slow down when Andy clears his throat. You need to learn that trick. The ability to barely do anything, and they just listen is amazing.

“Don’t forget your teeth, and me and mommy will be up in just a minute,” swoon. You find yourself growing more and more in love with him. You keep waiting on the other shoe to drop, and he surprises you with an ugly side of him. You know how protective he is, to a fault really. You know he can be quick to anger in order to protect you. But you’ve never seen his negatives affect you.

He pulls you in for a bruising kiss. Something you’ve been missing all day. He’s trying to respect your parents’ house when they’re well aware that you and Andy have sex. That’s the only details that they need to know. You pull away, smiling at him. “I’ve got a present for you.”

“Do you?” His hands roam down your back before grabbing both ass cheeks, one in each hand. “I’ve got a surprise for you, too,” you doubt his present is quite like yours. Regardless of what the answer on the test is, you know Andy will be happy you are taking one. “Alright, let's get the munchkins tucked in, so we can pretend we’re teenagers, and I just snuck up to your widow,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Dipping his hands between your thighs.

“You dirty old man.”

“As long as I’m your dirty old man, I really don’t care,” with a chuckle, and excitement for what’s to come, you head up the stairs to get your littlest loves tucked in. Ready to have a full week off with your favorite people in the world. Even if you weren’t sure about spending time with your sister.

You stand with your hands behind your back as Andy emerges from the Jack and Jill bathroom connected to Morgan’s old room. He smirks, trying to lean around your body to see what you have, “You go first,” he tells you, stepping right in front of you, he places his hands on your hips, and starts swaying the two of you to music that isn’t even there.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go first?” You are losing your confidence, and it’s just a pee stick. You’ve used one with Andy before. This is nothing new. You have children. The unknown is terrifying you, “You go first.”

“You are ready with yours behind your back. Mine is in the suitcase. Go on. I feel you might not like mine,” well that’s concerning. Now your interest is piqued. Is it a sex toy? A gag? Is he trying to be gross in your childhood room? It wouldn’t be the first time. A lot of firsts happened on that bed. “Doe?”

You exhale quickly before pulling the test in front of your body. Andy only stares at the box with so many emotions running through his mind. Your mom didn’t cheap out, she got the one that said pregnant or not pregnant. But your fiance is saying nothing. “I’m not saying I am. I’m just saying I think it’s time because…”

“Because you haven’t had a period in two months. Because you’re horny, and your tits are super sensitive. Because you’re super sleepy. Because your pants are getting tighter,” two months? Really.

“You know my cycle?”

“You don’t want to have sex because you’re cramping the first couple days, and you don’t even want to snuggle. And then on day three you are crawling in my lap so whiny. Yeah, I kinda figured out your cycle. Not to mention, you just smell different,” you pout up at him. He is so fucking sweet. Adorably sweet. “It’s why I didn’t want you carrying heavy things. And you’re bound and determined to ignore my need for you to take a test.”

You wiggle the test at him, and he playfully rolls his eyes. “Well, go pee on the stick, and there’s no need for me to give you my surprise because it’s the exact same thing. I was going to make you test even if it meant holding you down,” he’s so dramatic. Too dramatic honestly.

You push his hands off your hips, and walk into the bathroom, attempting to close the door when he clears his throat, “Why?” Whining just because.

“Because it brings back old memories. Pee with the door open. It’s not like I haven’t seen you in this position before. And many other positions if I’m recalling correctly,” dirty old man is right. But you’d choose him again and again.

“Fine,” you groan as you check to make sure the bathroom door on the other side is locked for some reason. Walking into the toilet alcove, and you pray. You beg. You hope and wish that it says pregnant. Not just for Andy, but for you. Audrey. Suede. The want and need to fill up your home. To make Andy a biological father, he’s already a daddy. The reality that you can have kids, and that Scott was the main problem.

With a deep breath, you lay the test on the counter, and start washing your hands as Andy steps behind you. Staring at the test, while you giggle, “Babe, it takes time. It’s not instantaneous,” not that it would take long. But his excitement is cute.

“Doe,” there’s something in the sound of his voice that makes you glance down at the test, and you gasp. Frozen as you stare at the test. You really didn’t think it would say that, “Honey, why would it be that instant?”

“Umm…well, I’m,” you can’t even think properly. This whole time you made yourself believe you were the problem. It wasn’t just you. You see as plain as the ‘PREGNANT’ on the test. It’s hard to fully believe the words, but there it is. Plain as day. “Andy?”

“Oh, honey,” he pulls you into his body, while you sob the happiest of tears. It’s just overwhelming. How many years were you told your body was the problem? And if it wasn’t the problem, would you have had a third child with Scott? You haven’t been careful with Andy since day one. But you haven’t been as stressed. You’ve been happier. “Baby, I know. I know,” he coos into your ear. “There was never anything wrong with you.”

You made yourself believe this couldn’t happen again. The girl that carried around a baby doll when she was little, and she went everywhere with you because it was your daughter. All you wanted growing up was to become a mother, and you thought that it was stripped away from you. That the man you wanted to procreate with you could never give that to him. There was always a part of you that almost believed eventually Andy would leave you for someone who could give him that.

“We’re having a baby, Doe,” his hand inches down your body before cupping your stomach. “Our baby is in there. And Audi and Suede are going to be big sister and brother. Doe, this is our baby in here,” you can’t even fully process this. A fear that you go to the doctor, and it was a false positive creeps into your mind, while Andy kisses all over your head. Pulling you back to view your red and swollen eyes before he crashes his mouth into yours.

He lifts you up from your ass, and you wrap your legs around him. Returning his desperate kisses with your own hunger as he carries you to the bed. You have Andrew Stephen Barber’s baby inside of you. You wanted to destroy the hope that was lingering in your mind for the past month because you didn’t think this was possible for you. Denying all the signs of a pregnancy because you were sure you couldn't give him a baby.

But you fucking can. You are. He drops you to the bed, and starts to paw at your underwear. He throws them somewhere behind you, and you look towards the door, making sure it is locked before he yanks his shirt off, and you stare up at his beautiful chest. You were never a titty girl, but Andy made you that way. With still his pajama bottoms on, he rolls his hips in between your thighs, and your back arches up.

Andy fucked a baby in you. There’s too much clothes that separate you, and you're pulling and tugging on his pants and underwear. Getting them down just enough to expose his hardening cock, and you grip it tightly at the base. Stroking him gently. Feeling him turn to steel in your hand before guiding him to your entrance. You run his tip through your slick, letting him know your body is ready. In one single thrust, he pushes into your warmth, lighting your body on fire.

He lays a hand over your mouth, “Shh, baby,” he draws himself out of you so slowly, but charges back in. “Doe, you’re so fucking loud,” loud? You growl at him. He feels amazing. “Your parents’ bedroom is downstairs. Maybe I should go softer since I’ve already fucked a baby…” Andy swallows deeply. His eyes become glossy, and you shove his hand off him.

“Andy. Andy, talk to me.”

“I don’t want you to think I don’t love Audrey and Suede. I will adopt them tomorrow. I will always take care of them, and you, but — I’ve always wanted to experience pregnancy with you. And you’re giving me that.”

Pulling his face down to yours you kiss away all the stray tears before returning to his mouth, “You’re giving me that, too,” you trace your tongue over his lips achingly slowly. Ignoring when he parts his mouth. “You’ve always given me so much. And I’ll always give you just as much. And I can’t wait to be Mrs. Andy Barber.”

He moans as you drag your tongue over his teeth. He meets you with his wet muscle, and you whimper at the taste of his freshly brushed teeth. Massaging his tongue with your own as he ruts into you. He’s not as deep as he normally is, but he still commands your body. This isn’t fucking. It isn’t raw. It is pure. Purely making love, and showing your love through your bodies.

There isn’t even a ton of friction. Just the two of you soaking up each other’s love and emotions. All these years of wanting, waiting, wishing is now in your grasp. The plan that you and Andy created all those years ago is now right here with you. He even told you it isn’t going to change the way he feels about Audrey and Suede, and one day they will be his legally. You have no doubt about that. Not now with your coward sperm donor unable to call them. Facing the consequences of what he did. What he allowed to happen.

You don’t give that bastard anymore thoughts as Andy rolls himself all the way in, “I won’t hurt the baby, will I?” Giggling you shake your head no, realizing now why he’d held off fully settling himself in your warmth. “You promise me?”

“I promise you,” things change to a frenzy as Andy stabs into you. Quick, hard, and all the way in. Crashing his mouth into yours so your noises won’t echo throughout the house. You did it. You both did it. You have accomplished everything that you ever wanted with Andy. Now the rest is just going to be beautiful fulfillment.

From the strange and quiet little boy, to the cocky teenager that you saw right past his fake bravado, now to the confident, protective, fierce, and super sexy man that you have fallen completely into the depths of his soul. Everything about Andy you love. Everything about the two of you, you love.

You squeak as your body tightens up, and Andy swallows all of your strangled sighs and whimpers. Tasting your pleasure on his tongue like it’s a rare delicacy. Wrapping your legs around him, you wait. Wait for his cock to go rigid, and his balls tighten up. Wait for his sticky release to fill up your belly, and your slicked up walls pulse around him. Milking every drop of his seed, and you squeeze your legs around him. Holding him in place because this is right where he belongs.

“Doe,” he pants out. WIth his forehead pressed against yours, you take a ragged breath. Spent from the day of traveling, to these overwhelming feelings. The only thing that could make this better is if he were already your husband. “Babe, what are you doing?”

His need to use pet names always makes you feel so warm and fuzzy. Home. “I’m keeping you where I want you.”

“In your cunt?”

“Is that so wrong?” He chuckles, shaking his head no, and lays the two of you to the side, so he can pet around your face. “We’ve got a baby growing in there.”

“I know. I know! I’m going to take so much care of you. I don’t want you to worry about anything. Suede’s health is a priority. Stay at home. Spend the extra time with Suede, and rest easy knowing he won’t have an allergic reaction. Hell, home school Audrey if you want to. This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” Pressing a chaste kiss against his lips you nod.

“I’ll take care of us. I need all our babies safe,” Andy knows there’s some legal issues that will have to be dealt with. But he’ll worry about them later. At this moment, you’re his wife. Audrey and Suede are his children. And you just told him you’re pregnant with baby number three. “I love you.”

“I love you, Andy,” you sigh, starting to fall asleep.

“Rest. I’ll unlock the doors in a little bit,” exhaling deeply, your eyes flutter close, and you nod. He would take care of everything. He is your husband. All three kids are Andy’s. That’s the dream. The fantasy that will be a reality.

Suede sits in Andy’s lap, picking food off his plate to shove in his mouth, and Audrey leans against your body in between the two of you. You figured today would be a bit harder for her. Faces she hadn’t seen in forever, and already she asked if her daddy would FaceTime her.

Morgan keeps looking towards you or Andy, you’re unsure why. But everyone chatters, and eats the thanksgiving dinner. “Where’s the deviled eggs?” she asks, looking at your mom for approval.

“Honey, your nephew is highly allergic, and he’s had enough attacks lately,” that should be the end of the conversation, but of course the baby of the family would sigh. Ryan looks towards you rolling his eyes as he stuffs a bite of turkey in his mouth.

Everyone, including Cooper and Conner, Ryan’s teenage boys, haven’t said a word about the slightly altered meal. You didn’t even insist on it. Said that you or Andy could have Suede with you at all times, and would make sure he didn’t eat anything he shouldn’t. You helped your mom alter some of the foods so they’d be safe for him, but you never expected so many accommodations. You paid for and made each of the desserts and snacks that were safe for him. As a good parent should do.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you back here, Andy,” your mom visibly moves uncomfortably in her chair, looking towards Morgan. She is always the one that starts something. So you don’t believe her intentions are pure.

“I did. I always knew I’d be back,” he responds, and your father raises a glass in the air. “What country are you guys going to travel to next?” He attempts to change the subject, but Morgan cocks her brow.

“Ireland,” your father’s voice is so quick. Short, and almost a warning to his youngest child. Morgan is a spoiled brat that your parents coddled for far too long. And now that she’s an adult, they don’t know how to control her.

“I just thought when my sister made her vows to Scott they’d be married forever,” you bite your tongue. Giving a smile to Audrey who looks up at you. She thought today would be a safe day with talking about her dad with people she didn’t know that well.

“You know my daddy?”

“Of course, I know him,” the tone in her voice sickens you to your core. Audrey didn’t need this.

“Can you tell him to call me?” Your father clears his throat. You hope Morgan chokes on her drink of wine as she takes another sip. “He he he he he he he hasn’t called since since my bubba…”

“NaNa my daddy. Chess,” Suede interrupts. His clean hand rubs on Andy’s beard, and you see Andy go stiff. Ready to say something, but knowing this was yours to handle.

“No, the hell he’s not. That is Scott Huffman’s son,” with a quick kiss to Audrey’s head, you lean her towards Andy, and scoot your chair back, standing up at the table.

“Outside,” Morgan glares at you. Practically snarling when you say it again. “Outside, Morgan. If you want to speak to me like an adult that is fine, but you will not talk to my children like this. Let’s go,” Morgan’s chair scoots back, and you hear Ryan hoop before getting a smack to the back of his head from your mom.

You march to the backyard. While everything is more worn and old from the weather and years, not much back here has changed. You’re annoyed that this adult woman is involving your children in whatever her deal is. She can take whatever she has out on you, but not them. They’ve been through enough.

“What’s your problem?” Morgan shrugs, sitting on the porch swing, but you stay standing. Pacing around while you try and calm down. “We’ve had the most pleasant week.”

“You mean before I got here?”

“Yes! You have this undying need to hate me. And that’s fine, Morgan. I really don’t care. But when you involve my children who are going through enough right now, that’s where I draw a really big line.”

Your sister gives you an evil smirk before crossing her arms over her chest, “And whose fault is that?”

“Well, I don’t know what you mean. Do you mean the fact that Scott was a cheating piece of shit? Do you mean how he neglected my son, and he almost died? Do you mean how he is a pussy bitch and won’t call his kids?”

“Because he knows it’ll be an argument,” you shake your head no, starting to go back into the house. “No, it will be. He’ll call to talk to the kids, but you made it very clear you don’t want Suede around him. He can’t even get Audrey now. And you know she’s his pride and joy,” only for what she can do to make him look good. He didn’t love her like Andy did.

You aren’t sure where she’s getting her information, but that’s not entirely true. Scott could see his children, but he chooses not to, “I issued him with supervised visits only.”

“How is that fair?”

“How is it fair that my two year old son had fractures to his rib cage because I had to give him CPR? He’s two, Morgan. Do you remember that? Two years old. The unfairness is to my kids. I chose supervised visits, so I know that my son’s life won’t be in jeopardy. I don’t understand how you can’t comprehend that. You act like I am this evil witch, while Scott is so innocent.”

“You filed for divorce,” you squeeze the bridge of your nose. For someone in their late twenties, she’s acting like a child. “You had him, and you filed for divorce.”

“And what would you have done if you walked in on your husband being fucked by the babysitter? One that he’s still currently with.”

“You weren’t having sex with him. Everyone knows that if you don’t give it up, they’ll find it somewhere else,” you stare at her dumbfounded. There is no reason to even bring up your postpartum depression, or the fact that your son had multiple health problems. The fact that you and Scott had grown distant. Honestly, you should have filed for divorce before you caught him cheating.

“You’re an idiot. Just don’t say anything to my children. And don’t bring up Scott.”

“Why?” She’s utterly ridiculous. “Because it’ll upset little Andy? You had it all. The perfect husband, home, kids, and life, and you don’t even realize it. You didn’t love him the way he deserved.”

“Don’t bring up Scott because it upsets my daughter! And I never had any of that with him. I have that now,” Morgan rolls her eyes, and stands up abruptly. Squaring up with you. You know exactly where Audrey gets her size from. Your sister is tiny. “If you think he’s so grand,” no you won’t say it. Whatever this is between you and Morgan, she still deserves better than Scott is offering. And how awkward would family dinners be then?

“I tried,” you step away from her. “I had him,” no she didn’t. She was about to start college when you and Scott started to date. “But he had found someone that he loved so much, and he couldn’t wait for me to graduate anymore. He needed a respectable wife if he wanted in a decent firm.”

“What are you saying?” Lies. A bunch of fucking lies.

“I had Scott first. We met when he did a lecture at college. I am the one that went to law school. The one that deserves him,” oh god, you’re going to be sick. Scott was perving on college girls while you were dating. Not just any college girls, but your sister. You can’t process this. “You took him from me, just like everything else. And now you’re with someone you loved more anyways. Couldn’t wait on Andy? Is he with you for pity now?”

“Do not speak to my children the way that you did ever again. Audrey has cried for her dad. I text him, and he doesn’t respond. I call and leave voicemails, and he doesn’t respond. I have tried and tried to be the bigger person for them, but I can’t force Scott to be a decent father. Whatever happened between you and him is in the past. I don’t care. I’m the one that has children with him, so I will always have to deal with him in some way.”

“Why doesn’t Andy just adopt them?”

“You’re the lawyer, Morgan. You tell me how easy it is for people to adopt children. That’s the plan, eventually. You know. I don’t need this stress right now,” Morgan perks up a moment. Her eyes flash to your stomach that you have kept a hand on the whole conversation. “I want a divorce. I want to marry Andy. I want my kids to be happy. I don’t care about Scott. Maybe you should ask him how he’s enjoying Cancun with his girlfriend. I’m done with him. I’m done with you. I’m done with this conversation.”

You don’t care what she has to say anymore. You can’t care. You have never been happier than this week. It wasn’t about being back home. No, home is wherever your family is. Andy and the kids are your family. Learning you were growing your family by another tiny little baby made everything better. And after the doctor’s appointment, you’d tell the kids.

Morgan wasn’t going to ruin anything. Whatever. You didn’t like it, but what were you to do? If she is still hung up on that man all these years later, what could you do? How is it your problem when you didn’t know about it? And you started talking to Scott before she was even in college, so her math is incorrect. No, you didn’t introduce him to your family, but your family is sacred. He never deserved to meet them.

“Mommy,” Audrey waits for you at the edge of the table. Your dad’s hand family falls off her belly, and she rushes towards you. You pull her up, and settle her on your hip, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, princess, everything is okay, and everything will be okay.”

“After dinner can we try daddy again?” Fuck Scott for being a coward, and leaving you to pick up everything. Fuck Morgan for brining Scott up again. More than likely he won’t answer the call. Selfish man can’t even tell his kids happy thanksgiving.

“We can,” you kiss her temple. Side eyeing Morgan as she walks back into the house.

“If he doesn’t answer, it’s okay,” you hope Morgan hears how a five year old is more mature than she is. That she understands that your child misses her father, even if he can callously ignore her. He can forget everything that happened at her birthday party, but she still has nightmares. You hope Morgan sees how Audrey’s always checking to see if Suede is breathing okay, and apologizing for not noticing him that day.

Scott and Taylor ruined her birthday because of their negligence. She will never be the same. That is a moment that will haunt everyone, including her. You just hate that you couldn’t split yourself in two and comfort her as well.

“Can we FaceTime Uncle Ann?” You sit beside your Andy, Suede already leaning back in his lap, patting his extended belly with a food covered smile. You keep Audrey in your lap, so you can share pie, and Andy places an arm around your back. He pulls you in for a quick kiss to your temple. You keep your chin up. She won’t ruin your day.

Morgan is jealous of a life you didn’t have with Scott. She can have it. Instead you’re going to wrap yourself in warmth and love with your family. A family of five. And when you return home, you’re going to give your family the best Christmas ever. Decorated beautifully, and giving your future husband what he’s always wanted. Traditions.

Next

Masterlist

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[intrepidacious]

melting snow

summary: Andy finally meets his upstairs neighbor

pairing: andy barber x f!reader

word count: 992

warnings: divorced andy's pov; florist!reader; snow if that counts as a warning lmao; first meetings fluff 🫶🏼 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i'm literally on my way out of the house but i wanted to post this little ficlet while we're still firmly in february because it feels so wintery to me hahah 😌 also @writing-for-marvel you sent this gif to me one and a half years ago so shout-out to you being the most patient person on the planet ily

masterlist | read on ao3

Here's what Andy knows about his new neighbor:

She lives in the apartment right above his, and even though he barely heard her moving in, just a couple of weeks after he signed his own lease, she seems to love rearranging her furniture in the middle of the night. The music she listens to is loud and annoying and keeps getting stuck in his head when he's supposed to focus on paperwork.

And right now, she's struggling to get her groceries out of her car.

It's way too early for a day off, but he's not been sleeping well on the new mattress. He’s missing the perfectly broken in softness of his old bed, and combined with the incessant noise of the cars and the sirens outside, he can count the hours of sleep he’s been getting with one hand.

There’s been a lot of change in his life after years in the suburbs, and he's frankly too old for all of this. But he needed the fresh start.

So he's on his third cup of coffee as he looks out of the window, watching the new neighbor in her bright winter jacket as she tries to balance another plastic bag on top of the stack of boxes she's compiled in the trunk.

She's pretty, his brain supplies, but he swallows the thought down with his coffee. The divorce has only just gone through. It's way too early for anything like that. Besides; there's such a thing as too much baggage.

One of the bags rips open and the neighbor curses so loud Andy can hear it through the closed window. He waits for a beat, takes in the scene unfolding on the parking lot outside, and then his mug clanks against the metal of the sink and he's grabbing his keys and his coat and pulling the door closed behind him.

"D'you need help?"

Her head swivels around, her eyes widening slightly as she sees him coming towards her, groceries still spilled all over the car and the melting snow. Like a breadcrumb trail of canned beans and tofu.

"That's alright," she says with a huff of air that forms a steam cloud in front of her face. "I don't have far."

"I know," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I’m 3B."

"Oh. Hi. Sorry, I meant to introduce myself properly once I'm all moved in, but then …" She trails off, but he gets it. He's only introduced herself to Mrs Hernández down the hall because he kept bumping into her at the elevator and it got awkward.

"That's alright. I'm Andy."

She says her name with a smile and he has to remind himself that he still has a tan line on his ring finger; even though it's starting to blur in the cool winter sun, blending into his skin quicker than he'd thought possible.

"Let me get that," he offers again, and this time she doesn't protest. Two pairs of hands and eyes are far quicker than one, after all. "Are you having a party or something?" he asks once everything is packed up in plastic bags again and they each carry two inside.

"Uhm, no. I have a dog, though, and some friends coming over on Saturday. But we'll try to keep it down!"

"Don't worry about it. It's good you're christening the place. I mean—" He coughs uncomfortably. "I'll be out of town anyway. Work conference."

"Oh, really. What do you do?" Bright, keen eyes study him like he’s being flayed layer by layer, a particularly interesting specimen.

He swallows and holds the elevator door open. "I'm a lawyer."

It's not that he particularly misses the stress of being district attorney; still, it'd been everything he'd worked for for most of his professional life. And then, just like that, within a single year both his job and his family were ancient history.

Anyway. A couple of weeks of retraining courses and now it's back to low-stakes cases of insurance fraud and tax evasion. It's better this way.

That’s what he tells himself in those long hours when he’s supposed to be sleeping.

"Very fancy," she says, and he supposes it sounds that way if you leave out all the important bits of backstory. "I could never. Not smart enough for that kind of stuff."

"I highly doubt that," he says without really knowing why. It earns him a smile. "What do you do?"

"I'm a florist. My best friend and I own Letters and Leaves on—"

"Arlington Street."

That gets him another, brighter smile. "You know it?"

He does. He's often wondered about it actually, a small shop selling books and flowers that's nestled between a chain restaurant and a pharmacy. There's always fresh bouquets out on the window sills, and a handwritten sign promoting new releases and book talks.

"It's on my way to the office."

"Well, you should come by sometime. I'll give you a neighbor discount."

"How much's that?"

A moment’s hesitation as her eyes flit down his body and meet his gaze again. "Depends on what you buy."

The elevator dings for his stop, and he wants to curse it.

"Thanks for your help, Andy," she says and suddenly the bags are out of his hands and he’s been dismissed.

He clears his throat. "My pleasure."

With a nod, he steps out of the elevator and she gives him a small, friendly wink as the doors close. There's something odd happening to the inside of his chest as he returns to his still-too-empty apartment and picks up his cup of coffee again.

It's gone cold.

He looks out the window again, at the two trails of footprints in the snow outside. The sun’s come out now, and they’re already beginning to melt together until it’s impossible to tell them apart at all.

A couple of minutes later, the music is turned on upstairs. He can't help it: It makes him smile.

thank you so much for reading!! see, i will save every ask i get, i'm just very, very slow when it comes to actually writing them lmao

if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 🫶🏼

[sidechrevans]

shower

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!),smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation kink (he calls us whores, like three times??) shower sex, wall sex (?), age gap, and more..

important: English is not my first language so there will probably be a lot of mistakes but there is nothing to be done, and it is my first time writing smur so don't attack me!!!

characters: dbf!steve rogers x fem!reader

I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! kisses

Steve Rogers was never as obsessed with a person as he was with you. He vividly remembers the first time he saw you, in that red dress begging to be fuckedYou were like a hurricane, bringing chaos and desire to every breath he took. He knew it was wrong, that you were taking him down a dangerous path, because you were his best friend's daughter, but he couldn't resist. With a penetrating gaze and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. You involved him in your games, in your dark fantasies that scared and excited him at the same time.And that's how you ended up in this current situation, being fucked in the shower by your father's best friend.

Your parents had gone on a trip to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage, and even though you were 20 and completely capable of taking care of yourself, your father asked Steve to keep an eye on you.

“I've been dying to fuck you ever since I saw you in that tiny red dress, you were practically begging, weren't you whore? That's it, isn't it? You just needed a big fat dick in that cherry.”

His hands tried to hold onto the stall in a failed attempt as Steve frantically thrust into you, you could feel his balls hitting yours against your clit as he pushed harder and harder into you…

your breasts jiggled as you were thrust into you. Steve moaned hoarsely, you felt every vein, every tiny vein inside you, the complete sense, his hands held your waist while the hot water ran between the two of you, giving him more access to fuck you hard... you look over your shoulder with some difficulty and then you see him, his hair was messy, some strands stuck together, his mouth was being pressed because he was biting his lips heavily and at the same time making a face.

“FUCK” he moans loudly, starting to move quickly and forcefully, not giving you time to breathe properly... the butterflies were playing with you, his trembling hand even went towards your clitoris when he started to rub it quickly, giving you spasmsHis mouth opened in a wordless moan. The glans hit the depths of his intimacy, making his lower belly burn. You had no idea how many times you had cumHer body shook violently and Steve watched her cum on his dick.

“Tell me, whose little whore are you?” His hoarse voice echoed through the bathroom along with a loud slap, you just swallowed soundlessly when he started moving again.“Stevee” you moaned when he hit that spot, you were already sore“So it’s here? Hmm?" he asked and you moaned in response.

He growled in his ear before pushing his body onto the bed and starting to thrust making you scream in pleasure “Whaaat? Do not handle it? Weren’t you the one thirsty for cock?” laughed while you whimperedYou moaned in a sob when the older man pushed everything in, squeezing your neck with one hand and making you orgasm again in such a short time.Steve withdraws his member and you let out a sly moan.

He soon bends down watching the abused entrance dripping all his cum.Her swollen clitoris pulsed, her breathing was heavy, her legs were wobbly. When you thought it was finally over, he smiles and then goes back into the hot grip in a brutal way, hearing your surprised scream.

[worksby-d]

That’s the idea

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

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

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

Word count: ~1,200

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

“It's gonna be fine, hon—” 

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

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

“What if they don't like me?” 

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

“I know, but…” 

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

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

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

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

“Are you done yet?” You finally ask. 

You know time is ticking. 

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

“I can tell,” he laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not working,” you mumble. 

“What isn't?” He teases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirks, knowing it's working. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feeling better?” He teases. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl,” he grunts. 

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

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

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

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

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

“We'll see,” you sigh. 

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

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

[mrcavill88]

Despondency turned rapture

Pairing: Stepdad Andy Barber x Stepson Male reader

Summary: A recent family passing took a deep toll on you. Never have you ever felt so isolated from humanity. The only thing keeping you going are the lewd activities between you and your stepfather

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: 18+, ANGST, mentions of death, SMUT, age gap (reader just turned 18, Andy is 42) drunk Andy, reader is a stoner, intimacy in the shower, Dom Andy, deep kissing, skin biting, stripping, spanking, fingering, prostate orgasm, oral sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, cum control, breeding, cuddling

A/N: Hey everyone thanks for all your support lately. This is my first Steve only fic, hope you enjoy! (If you have any questions/requests, feel free to ask me in my bio;)

You're not quite sure how your life crumbled apart so easily. One moment you're frolicking in the park with your beloved mother and stepfather, then you're hyperventilating in a hospital hoping your mother's life could see another day.

*FLASHBACK 6 MONTHS*

"Mom! P-please *sniffle* please stay with me!" you pled as you tightly gripped your mothers hand, her body laying near lifeless on the hospital bed. "Sir! Why are you in the room? Your mother is in a fragile state I understand your pain but you need to exit immediately!" the frantic doctor yelled as he tried to pry you from your mother.

"Get the hell off me!" you yelled as you shoved the doctor into the concrete wall. "Mom! Mom! Answer me!" you cried as tears stained your cheeks, feeling helpless as your mother remains unresponsive.

And then it came

The longest, most heartbreaking beep you've ever heard in your whole life. The beep that signified the death of your mother. You fell to your knees as you've just accepted what reality has become, a reality without your mother.

"Y/N! What happened? Is she okay?" your stepdad Andy panicked as he rushed over to you, seeing your mother. "N-no, NO! NO!" Andy screamed as he hugged your body tightly, in grievance of your dead mother. Both of you sat on the floor, drowned in tears as you've both lost the dearest person in your lives.

The trip out of the hospital was one that wasn't that long, but for you and Andy? It was a million years. It took a host of angels to get you out of that hospital, several doctors needed to escort you out of the hospital room. That day, a part of you was never the same, you became an incomplete puzzle with a forever missing piece.

*FLASHFORWARD TO PRESENT*

You sit in your bed, still grieving your dear mothers death. A mountain of disposables piling up in the corner of the room, making the room reek of weed. A deep and scratchy exhale left your mouth as you continue to sit in your room, refusing to leave your domain. It seems like years since you've spoken to anyone,

Well, almost anyone

The only trustworthy person in your life? Your stepdad Andy. You two have always had a close relationship, you both understood each other on a level no one else (besides your mother) could. But little did each of you know, the deep feelings you both felt for each other. I mean, how could one resist Andy? His beautiful blue eyes that dilated each time he saw you, his broad figure and chiseled muscles, his structured face and sexy beard. You knew it was wrong, especially after your mothers death, but it was something out of your control.

"Y-Y/N! G-get your ass o-over h-here!" he yelled, slurring his words amid his recent alcohol addiction. You slumped off your bed and walked over to Andy's bedroom, the unpleasant aroma of alcohol filled the room as you shut the door; bottles upon bottles of beer stacked in his closet.

"Y/N, y-you better s-stop sm-smoking, i-it'll kill you. If I f-find one more goddamn c-cart in the t-trash, I-I'm whooping your ass. Understand?" he said, barely able to connect his words together. "You think y-you can talk? It smells like shit in here, I don't know how you keep all those muscles and that jawline when all you do is drink all the fucking time! Give it a fucking break already!" you yelled, right before a thick hand smacked your cheek, you held your face.

Andy grabbed your face yelling, "You speak t-to me like t-that again? I'll fucking k-kill you, understand?" squeezing your face. You nodded as tears formed and fell down your face. You ran out of Andy's room, into your room, slamming the door, staying there for what seemed like an eternity, but was only 2 days.

*FLASHFORWARD 2 DAYS LATER*

A light knock on the door awakened your seemingly endless slumber. You stood up, feeling sticky and extremely hungry, and dragged your body towards the door and opened it to a surprisingly healthy Andy, who didn't smell.

"Hey y/n, I know you probably want to talk to me but, I'm really concerned about you. You haven't left your room in ages and your mothers death (tears up) left its toll on both of us, but I know she wants us to find happiness in our lives. So please, would you come out? Maybe we could spend some time together?" he asked, caressing the cheek that he slapped the other day.

You gave him a blank expression, still feeling a little scared of Andy after what happened yesterday. "Fine". You finally walked out of your room, the sunshine blinding you as you sit down on the couch.

"Now, let's get you cleaned up. Honey, can you please take a shower?" Andy asked, his cute nickname for you leaving you a little bit surprised. You reluctantly entered the bathroom, it seems like an eternity since you last entered it. You undressed yourself and turned on the hot water, waiting for steam to accumulate before you entered. The hot water dampening your soft skin as you cleanse yourself for the first time since your mothers death. As you were washing your hair, you noticed the bathroom door slowly creaked open. The feeling of curiosity and anxiety filled you as you waited for someone to show up.

"Y/N? Can I come in?" Andy asked, as the door was still slightly ajar.

"Come in"

Andy walked in with a white tank top that perfectly illustrated his large biceps and broad shoulders, and, it got hard, and, it seemed that he realized this. He walked over to the shower and opened the door

"Hey! Get out! I need some privacy!" you yelled as you covered your private parts, slightly blushing. "Oh I'm sorry, lemme just close this" Andy said as he seductively slapped your ass, causing you to jolt and moan a little. "GET OUT!" you yelled, clearly aggravated, little did he know a little turned on as well. He left before you finished your shower, you turned off the water, dried yourself off and put on a tight little black tank top and some shorts.

You walked out and approached Andy in the living room, still a little surprised at what he did in the bathroom. "H-hey Andy, sorry I got mad at you there" you chuckled. "Oh it's all good Y/N, in the end, that was my bad. Come sit with me, the patriots are on right now" he said to you, bringing you over to the couch, sitting you next to him.

Oh God

You were feeling things you never felt before, things you shouldn't be feeling, he was your... stepdad. This was wrong, you couldn't help but feel butterflies race around your stomach, your body temperature rising as Andy got closer and more touchy with you.

"So Y/N, you like football?" he asked you, wrapping his muscular arm around your shoulder. You didn't answer him; you couldn't even think straight you were going crazy, sweat accumulating on your forehead.

"Y/N? Why so silent?"

"S-sorry I'm just-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you found the six foot one man hands all over you, pinning you to the couch.

"H-hey! What're you doing!" you whined out as he got closer and closer to your face. "Oh Y/N, sweet innocent Y/N, I know you like me, in fact, you love me." he said, tightening his grip on you as he was practically an inch away from your face. "N-no Andy, this is wrong! You're my stepdad! What would mom think?" "Y/N, at a certain time, you have to move on, your mother was an amazing person, she would want us to be happy right?"

You shrugged your shoulders in response before Andy's lips crashed onto yours, your tongues twisting together, fighting for dominance; you lost. "Mm baby I've been waiting years for this, you don't understand how hard I'm gonna fuck you" he huffed as he continued kissing you, moving onto your neck. "Fuck, daddy" you moaned.

"Mm, daddy huh? I like that name, you only address me as that now, understand?" You whimpered in response as Andy started biting and sucking on your neck. Moans and whines leaving your mouth as your own stepfather was leaving hickeys on your baby soft skin.

When he was finished with you, you were a moaning and whining mess, breathing in and out at a rapid pace as Andy's eyes starting filling with something, insurmountable lust. "Strip for daddy" he commanded as he put you on your knees. You slowly removed your clothing unveiling your beautiful and slim frame.

Andy stared at your angelic figure, completely awestruck by the beauty that stand before him. He grabbed onto your shoulders and started sucking on your skin again. "Mm fuck baby! You taste as good as you look, you're gonna feel so good with me inside you!"

"Mm, fuck me daddy!" you moaned as the bearded man vigorously bit and licked your skin. He grabbed your body and placed your moaning figure over his lap; you knew exactly what part was next. He squeezed and fondled your cheeks, praising them before his hands gripped them firmly.

"Count"

"o-one" *SMACK* his hand swiftly cuffed your right cheek, causing you to wince in pain, and a wee bit of pleasure.

"two" *SMACK* he smacked your left cheek with even more force, causing you to scream as a tear leaked from your eye.

Said smack became 5 smacks, then 15, then 30. At 31, your ass cheeks were tinted red and tears stained your cheeks as your stepdad had just smacked the hell out of your ass.

"Oh baby, don't cry. Daddy is so proud of you, and he thinks it's time for your reward, baby. Come on, open up"

You aversely spread your legs open, leaning up on the couch you were sitting on. Right then and there, Andy slowly inserted his thick fingers into your tight and tiny hole. He used his spit as a lubricant to make the trip nice and smooth, causing moans and whines to constantly leave your mouth.

"Daddy! Ugh! Fuck daddy! That feels so good!" you whined as his fingers went in and out of your hole.

"Oh baby I love to hear you moan, it's like music to my ears. Now, this might hurt, just sit still ok sweetie?" he kindly said as he started finger fucking you with multiple fingers. Your moans started becoming screams as the feeling of pleasure, pain, and discomfort consumed your body.

"D-daddy! I c-can't take it anymore! I'm g-gonna cum!" you whined as you could feel your cock twitch uncontrollably, completely wet with pre-cum.

"Oh no you don't" he said cupping your cock in his other hand, making you even more horny. "Daddy can't have you cumming yet, I know you can do it, be a good boy for daddy". At this point, you were practically walking on strings, shear milliseconds away from shooting your load.

Andy finally released his fingers from you, sucking on them. "Delicious. Oh baby, you're such a determined little boy, thank you for not cumming, daddy appreciates it! Now, get on your knees baby, daddy needs to unload a little". You were still a little weak from Andy finger fucking you, but you got on your knees as Andy unleashed his meat. You've been picked down by many, but nothing surmounted Andy's cock. It looked to be 8 inches long, and insanely thick. You licked his bitter tip, causing him to groan out, before you started sucking his dick.

It didn't take much before you started gagging, your drool spilling from your mouth as Andys dick invaded every corner of your mouth. "T-take it easy b-baby. Oh fuck! Baby you look so good around my dick like this!" He started to thrust into your face, you almost fell back at his aggression. The sound of moans filled the room as Andy could feel himself getting close. Noticing this, you started moaning and whining on his dick, sending vibrations up his dick. "F-fuck baby" he moaned as he shot his thick and warm cum into your mouth, filling your mouth with his baby batter.

"Oh baby you did so well! Now, it's time for the grand finale! Come on baby, face down, ass up"

You stood crawled up on the couch and did as he asked, face down, ass up, your hole still lubricated after Andy's fingers violated it. "This is a very special memory Y/N, let's make the most of it. Alright?" he softly said before he violently thrusted his cock in your hole, going in and out aggressively.

"Daddy! Ugh! I love your cock so much daddy!" you whined as his meat was invading every bit of your insides. His thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier by the second as the pleasure he felt weakened his knees.

That's when it happened

His dick thrusted into your prostate causing you to go crazy, cock twitching uncontrollably as cum shot from your cock onto the couch, practically painting a section white. "B-baby, I-I'm close, y-you're doing so well" Andy groaned as he was once again close from summing, this time inside you.

"I love you daddy!" you screamed as your legs started to wobble. At those words, Andy lost it. His cock shooting ropes and ropes of cum into your velvety walls, painting them white. You both collapsed on the couch, completely drowned in pleasure after having sex the best sex of your lives. You crawled up onto Andy's muscles, cuddling up against him.

"I love you" you said before you lightly kissed his lips

"I love you too Y/N" he huffed before you both fell asleep in each others arms

THE END

Thanks for reading:)

[krirebr]

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

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

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

[navybrat817]

The Silent Treatment

Pairing: Dark!Andy Barber x Female Reader

Summary: You attempt to give Andy the silent treatment during dinner.

Word Count: Almost 500

Warnings: Implied NONCON/DUBCON, implied kidnapping, delusion, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: The Basement Spouses Writing Challenge Week 4! Character: Andy Barber. Length: 250-500 words. Prompt: "You think I care about you? Cute." ❤️ Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You made no attempt to eat your dinner as you sat at the table with Andy. You also hadn’t spoken a word to him since he got home. He warned you before he left for the day that he’d be home late, but you were still in a mood the moment he walked through the door. You greeted him with a kiss as expected, but you didn’t extend any additional warmth.

What had he done to deserve it?

Andy took a bite of his food with a hum of dissatisfaction. “I thought takeout would’ve been a good idea since I had to work so late, but this is kind of terrible,” he teased, looking to you for a smile that you didn’t give him.

Your silence was the most eloquent reply you could provide.

Clearing his throat, he pushed some of the food around on his plate. “Did you have a good day?”

You replied with a shrug before you stared off at the wall behind him. It was the first time you noticed that the floral painting he had hung up was slightly crooked. It was fitting considering he tried to put on a front of perfection, but something was off.

His sigh brought your attention back to him, watching wordlessly as he ran his fingers along his beard. “Honey, I’m trying, but you have to meet me halfway.”

Lifting your chin in defiance, you watched his blue eyes flash as you slowly shook your head. You weren’t in the mood to be nice today. You were tired.

“So, that’s it? You’re giving me the silent treatment? That isn’t how our relationship is going to work. You-”

“Our ‘relationship’? There is no relationship, Andy,” you finally spoke, bitterly laughing at his stricken expression. “What, you think I want to be here? You think I care about you? Cute.”

You flinched when his fork scraped his plate, his jaw tight as he pushed his chair back. You should’ve stayed quiet. Why had you opened your mouth? “I knew I let you out of the basement too early,” he said more to himself than to you. “That’s my fault.”

“Andy, please,” you whispered as he rounded the table to grip your arm. The plasticware and plate wouldn’t do any damage if you fought. He never left anything sharp around you. “Don’t send me back down there.”

“You haven’t learned yet,” he said, your body trembling when he kissed the top of your head. “But don’t worry. You will.”

You tried to apologize as he dragged you back down to the basement. Just as you had given him the silent treatment, he ignored your pleas as he pushed you into the dingy mattress and took what he wanted. Later he’d remind you that he chose you to be his perfect wife and he’d eventually let you back upstairs to try again.

Until then, he’d keep you in the prison he created until you learned to love him.

You'll learn eventually, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[imyourbratzdoll]

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

hello, honey, I hope you enjoy!

find part 1 here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.