#andy renovation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misctf · 4 months ago

Text

Renovations Needed

For @artificial-transmutations

“Wait, you’re serious? Your uncle left you property?”

Andy nodded, “I’m as shocked as you are. But it says it right here. Look!” He handed Michael the paper, “It’s his old club. Not in the best part of town though...”

“Doesn’t matter, we can sell it!” Michael smiled, “We’ve been pretty tight on cash and we could use it for our wedding.” Michael hugged him, “Babe, this is incredible.”

Andy smiled warmly at his boyfriend. Michael was perfect. His smile enough to brighten up even his darkest days. His lean, muscular build highlighted under his tight white shirt. But more importantly, they complimented each other well. Michael’s ambition tempered and strengthened by Andy’s kindness.

“So, let’s go check it out”

_________

Compared to their cozy home, his uncle’s property was on the “bad side” of town. And just as his uncle neglected his body, he did the same to his property. Boarded up and worn down, this place needed a lot of work.

“Geez he let this place go.” Michael said, as the two inspected a broken window, “Fuck, I doubt we’ll get much for this place.” Andy frowned.

The two unlocked the front door, overwhelmed immediately by a moldy smell. The floors were stained, the bar was in shambles, and the walls were dirty. Andy jumped at the sight of a rat.

“What did you say your uncle did again?”

“He ran a club.” Andy replied, “At least until all that smoking caught up to him.” He navigated around some broken glass, “This place was really big back in the day... first gay club in the neighborhood.”

Michael nodded and continued his inspection, “Babe, look at this.” Andy’s eyes fell on a framed picture of his uncle, “Tough looking dude.”

Andy nodded, “That was him in his prime.” Mountainous biceps, a wide back, jutting pecs, bald, a thick beard- his uncle wasn’t someone you messed with. His stern glare could snap a lesser man in two, “He was never my biggest fan. I’m not exactly... tough. Just a ‘wimpy bitch boy’, as he would say.”

Michael frowned and kissed his boyfriend, “You’re perfect to me, babe.”

The rest of their inspection was disappointing, but nothing could compare them for the bathroom. Piss stains littered the floors and walls. Urinals were caked in it. There was even one missing- completely torn away from the wall. The smell nearly knocked them out, and they quickly retreated.

“This sucks.” Andy looked over to the photo of his uncle. His stern gaze piercing his soul, “He could’ve really made something of this place.”

“Agreed. It’s a real shame.” Michael replied, “He really fucked up, didn’t he.”

Andy sighed, looking at the picture of his uncle. And suddenly, an idea popped into his head, “What if I clean it up?” Michael let out a laugh, “No seriously! I could get this place straightened up. It would increase the value for sure!”

Michael sighed, “You really think you can do much for this dump?” Andy felt a sudden pang of anger that quickly dissipated before he could process it, “Look babe, I’ll support you. Couldn’t hurt.” He leaned in for a kiss.

_________

“This place looks better already.” Andy whispered as he entered the club the next day.

The club somehow already looked cleaner. Maybe even a little livelier. The smell wasn’t as bad, the floors not as dirty. But there was still work to be done. Andy swept the floor and watched as the grime vanished without much effort. He even dusted the photo of his uncle.

“We didn’t really get along, but thank you.” Andy whispered.

When he arrived home, Michael greeted him warmly, “Hey babe, how’d it go?” He scrunched his nose, “Damn, you stink.” He chuckled, but Andy glared at him, “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Michael replied, realizing his boyfriend wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m gonna go shower.” Andy said, brushing past his boyfriend without even a kiss, “See you in bed.”

In the shower, Andy tried to relax. His muscles were sore from earlier. And as he lathered up, he was surprised to feel small hairs along his chest and stomach. He was usually clean shaven, and these small dark hairs were odd. He thought little of it.

Upon entering the bedroom, he found Michael lying in bed. Naked. A sexy smirk on his face. One that Andy usually couldn’t resist.

“You seem stressed babe.” Michael said, putting his hands behind his head, “And I think I have the solution.” His erect cock was on full display.

“Not in the mood.” Andy replied.

“Bullshit, I heard you moaning in the shower.”

“Not in the fucking mood.” Andy continued. Michael frowned, “I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Michael asked, concern etched on his face, “You seem...” He approached his boyfriend.

“I’m fine.” Andy replied, “Long day. Last thing I want is your dick up my ass.” He crawled into bed and faced away from Michael, “You coming?”

_________

The next day, Andy sat in his uncle’s office, rummaging through a desk. Even the office underwent a transformation overnight. The smell was gone, the chair was repaired, and the desk was no longer dusty. Andy scratched his chest and mentally made note that it felt firmer. But his thoughts were interrupted when he found a VHS tape. He raised an eyebrow.

“Shower Time?” He read the label, “What the fuck?” He looked up at the newly repaired TV and VHS player, “Might as well.”

The video started. There was his uncle. Nude. Standing above some guy. Some lesser man. Andy watched closely, absentmindedly rubbing his stiffening cock. And then it started. His uncle pissed on the guy below him. Andy watched as if in a trance, still rubbing his cock. And then it stopped.

“What the fuck?” He whispered, looking down at himself, “I... I’m not into that kinda shit, am I?” The disturbed young man exited the office, “I need to get out of here...” But as he passed the watchful gaze of his uncle’s photo, he froze, “Where the fuck am I going?” He whispered, “I have work to do.”

Hours passed, and Andy’s work was nearly done. He wiped some sweat from his brow, barely registering his newly mountainous bicep. He felt his phone vibrate. Michael. He ignored the call and continued his work.

When he arrived home, Michael wasn’t there- likely at the gym. Andy walked to the bathroom and stared closely at himself in the mirror. Something wasn’t right.

“There we go.” He whispered, pulling out the clippers, “Just a little...” He buzzed away his brunette locks. Shorter and shorter until not a single hair remained, “Better.” He ran a hand over his bald head.

Later, when Michael did return home, he nearly fainted, “What the fuck?” He said, “Andy, what did you do?” Andy looked up and shrugged, “Babe, you’re bald!” Michael knew how much Andy cared about his hair, “Somethings wrong. Please just tell me.”

Andy glared at him, “You got a problem, bitch boy?” Michael’s jaw dropped, “By the way, we’re keeping the club.”

“That wasn’t the plan.” Michael crossed his arms, “What about selling it? We need the cash for the wedding.”

Andy stood up and crossed his arms, “Who gives a shit? Club’s nearly done anyway.” Michael could only watch as his boyfriend got up and left.

_________

Back at the club, Andy sat in his uncle’s office, watching another one of his uncle’s piss videos. The initial disdain for them being replaced by pure pleasure, as he jerked off. But his pleasure was interrupted when the door swung open.

“Andy, we need to...” Michael said desperately, “What are you doing?” Andy smirked and continued to jerk off, “Andy. Cut this shit out.”

“Didn’t take you for a little bitch.” Andy replied, standing up, “You should be fuckin’ happy. I mean look at me.” He flexed his biceps, which now rivaled Michael’s, “And this fuckin’ club is gonna take off.”

“But babe, I don’t want the club.” Michael replied, “Ever since we got it, you’ve been different. Andy please.” And for a second, Andy’s new persona faltered. His boyfriend’s caring eyes breaking through to him. And the kindness returned to Andy’s eyes.

“Michael...” He whispered, “I-I’m sorry.” He stepped forward, “I don’t know what happened.”

Michael smiled and hugged his larger boyfriend, “It’s okay.” He looked down at Andy’s arms, “ But you need to tell me your workout routine.” He said, trying to add some humor to the situation.

Andy shook his head, “Michael... this isn’t right.” He looked at his larger bicep.

“You’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.” Michael smiled.

The two started walking down the long hallway to the main floor. Past the furious eyes of Andy’s uncle. And Andy froze.

“Wait babe, I left something in the bathroom.” He said.

Michael nodded, “Okay, I can wait...”

“No, come with me. Please.”

Michael shivered. Something told him to run. There was something different in his boyfriend’s eyes. But he wasn’t gonna leave him. He nodded and the two entered the bathroom. It was still in a state of decay.

“God, smells like piss in here.” Michael laughed nervously, “Guess you haven’t had time...”

Andy shoved him. A forceful push that sent him tumbling against the wall. Falling exactly into the empty slot between two urinals. Michael’s back hit the wall and he winced in pain, looking up at his boyfriend.

“Andy, what the hell...” Michael tried to move, but he couldn’t. He pushed against the wall desperately and looked up at his boyfriend in terror, “Andy, please! You need to help...”

But then he saw it. Andy was frozen, his clothes shredding as his muscles continued to grow. Behind him stood the specter of his uncle, who’s ghostly hands ran up and down Andy’s enlarging body. Andy moaned as his pecs grew into a pair of firm muscle tits and hair finally carpeting his clean-shaven skin in seconds.

“Andy...?” Michael whispered. Andy’s uncle smirked and suddenly Michael was naked. Pressed against the grimy wall of the bathroom.

The young man let out a yelp as he felt the pipe behind him enter his asshole and fuse to it. And he shivered as a sickly cold passed through his body.

“It hurts...” Michael whimpered as his muscles ached.

He looked down and quickly regretted it. His muscles were deflating- retracting into his body. His proud pecs and abs smoothing out, and his brunette locks and body hair fell to the ground below. Michael cried out again as his legs began to shrink and pull up into his abdomen.

“Andy help!” Michael cried out. He could see himself in the mirror. How his human features were starting to disappear, while his skin took on a paler tone. He felt cold. A sickly inhuman cold, “I-I...”

Tears fell from his eyes as he watched his toned arms begin to retract into his body. All the while, Andy was moaning as his own body packed on firm muscle and manly hair. His once clean shaven face now sporting a beard, while his expanding arms grew wiry hairs. In the midst of his transformation, he looked down at his boyfriend.

“Michael...” He whispered, “I-I’m sor...” He moaned as his package expanded, his bulge barely contained in his tight underwear.

Michael open his mouth to reply, but no words came out. Instead, his mouth remained forced open. And he could only watch in terror as it widened and stretched, forming a basin, while his tongue shifted into a urinal cake. Tears streamed from his eyes as he felt piping emerge from the top of his head and connect with the wall behind him. The coldness he felt earlier was now spreading. His flesh fully converting to white porcelain. And the last thing he saw before his vision went black was a final look of terror from Andy, which was soon replaced by the stern look Michael recalled from his uncle’s photo.

And then it was dark. It was cold and he was unable to move. Trapped. Not able to fully understand what happened to him.

“Fuck, I gotta take a leak.” Michael could still hear Andy’s voice, now gruff and harsh. He called out for help in his mind, hoping someone could hear.

But then he felt it. In the cold darkness of his new existence, he felt warmth. And tasted what he came to horrifically realize was piss. And after a minute or two of his old boyfriend filling his new mouth with urine, he felt hands wrap around his handle. The orgasmic pleasure nearly breaking Michael’s mind entirely, but not enough to free him from his new prison. Or awareness. And as the urine was washed away, Michael cried out in anguish as he came to realize his permanent fate.

“Shit that felt good.” Andy grumbled, “Alright, back to work. Opening days in just a week.”

The larger man went to leave, but not before turning back and looking at his new urinal. Something told him he was forgetting something important. A sense of dread filling him. He shook it off and left the bathroom, all under the watchful gaze of his uncle’s ghost.

_________

Opening day would come and go. And night after night, partygoers enjoyed the club and its atmosphere. Unaware of what had transpired there. And while they might not have been aware, Michael was. Day after day, and hundreds of men later. All filling his mouth and sending him into orgasmic pleasure with just a pull on his handle. Leaving him trapped and begging for freedom. But at least Andy would visit him. To use him of course. And only him. Andy couldn’t explain his attraction to that urinal. Nor would he ever realize why.

#male transformation #age progression #inanimate tf #personality tf

221 notes · View notes

twixnmix · 6 months ago

Text

Andy Warhol’s Polaroids of his boyfriend Jed Johnson in the 1970s

Jed Johnson (December 30, 1948 – July 17, 1996) was an American interior designer and film director. Shortly after arriving in New York City from Sacramento with his twin brother Jay Johnson in 1968, he delivered a Western Union telegram to Andy Warhol’s new Factory. He was hired on the spot to sweep the floors and strip wood throughout the renovations. Johnson helped Warhol recover from an assassination attempt in 1968 and became his live-in boyfriend for 12 years. He edited several Warhol-produced films and directed Andy Warhol's Bad (1977). Before launching a lucrative decorating company, Johnson decorated the townhouse on the Upper East Side where he and Warhol lived with their two dachshunds, Archie and Amos. His clients included Mick Jagger, Yves Saint Laurent, and Barbra Streisand. As a passenger aboard TWA Flight 800, he was killed when the plane exploded shortly after takeoff in 1996.

#jed johnson #andy warhol #lgbtq #1970s #1970s fashion #dauchshund #vintage #polaroids

267 notes · View notes

beat-the-morning · 8 days ago

Text

🖤 Fumigation Journal || Hozier x Reader🖤

BOTH PARTS

READ ON TUMBLR UNDER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ || smut

Tags: oral sex, multiple orgasms, cum eating, cum swallowing, marsturbation interrupted, love confessions, fingering, face fucking, dry humping, marking, creampie (kinda), squirting, breakfast in bed

Summary: Andrew is staying at your apartment while his house gets fumigated, you come back from work one day only to find him with your dream journal in hand. What will happen next?

Word Count: 7k

A/N: This fic was co-written with oomf :) We both wrote both chapters— go give them some love!!

Their Twitter

Their Wattpad

💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙

You gazed out your window, sleepy eyes reverently observing the sunrise. Your heart swelled— somehow, the sunrise always felt prettier when you had someone to love. Really, everything in life gets slathered in beauty

And, oh, how close your love was. He was staying in your shitty apartment instead of his big, old house. The one that had no air conditioning, that he needed to get renovated when he moved in to even be able to piss in the bathroom. It also frequently got infested with bugs. Andrew tried everything, but nothing really worked. Not bug traps, nor the exterminator, nor closing the gaps in the house.

So, currently the house was getting fumigated. Maybe these bugs realized how he was made for you. Maybe they were on your side— the ultimate matchmakers. You giggled into your pillow at the mere thought.

You got up and rolled out of bed. Work was in 30 minutes— it was probably best to suck it up and stop staring at the sky, like some sort of romantic. Even if you very well were. You stumbled out of your room, hair frizzy, face bare, eyes blurry.

Your sleepy legs made their way into the kitchen, every step a battle. You weren't paying attention, your mind was way better at thinking about your pretty best friend. In consequence, you bumped into the man himself. Face hitting his chest, you let out a tired groan. You looked up at him with weary eyes— one of his hands ended up on your shoulder, steadying you.

“Clumsy morning, huh?”

You cover your mouth, hiding a yawn. Andrew laughed, a warm, mellow, welcoming sound. Wanting him was your only absolute this early. Everything was blurry, you really didn't care about anything, you were tired, and your head hurt. But you wanted him, and you wanted him now.

“I made french toast.” He said, letting you go, interrupting your thinking.

You happily hummed, sitting down at the table as he set a plate in front of you, “Thank you, Andy”

“No problem. And I'm sorry for this being all so sudden. Thank you for taking me in. It… it really means a lot, you're a sweetheart. Truly.”

Your cheeks flushed, and it took you a few seconds to compose yourself before you dug into your pancakes.

Once you were done stuffing your face, you quickly got ready for your job. You organized books at the local library— and you sure as hell dressed the part. You decided on a patterned button down and black trousers- hell, your elderly neighbor dressed younger than you.

Work was boring as fuck, but at least it was Friday, so no more work for a couple days. You got through the day with one too many cups of coffee and at least one “smoke break”, which was really just a lap around the block to get away from work for a few minutes.

You didn't have the worst job ever—hell, the pay was the best you'd had. But it was tedious, and mind-numbingly boring. Especially when you had a man at home. Not your man, but rather the man you were given the curse of being “just friends” with.

You were utterly thrilled, yet exhausted at the end of the day, when you took the bus home and planned what movie you and Andy were to watch.

Your aching legs made their way up the stairs, your hand holding tightly onto the handrail, trying not to fall down the steps from how drowsy you were. The sweet promise of seeing your best friend filled you, though, and it did almost numb your pain.

You finally reached your floor, opening the door, heart warm and fuzzy, and your eyes befell a beautiful, but shocking sight.

Andrew lay there, on your cozy couch, in sweatpants and a white ribbed tank top. Even that was enough to stun you. His eyes were focused, glazed over, head tilted back. His hair was messy, tangled.

In one hand, he held a small, black journal- with striking similarity to your dream journal. You’d been using it for a few months now and had written every dream you’d had in it, while it had started out with innocent little fairytales, your dreams had become far less appropriate as of late. So the journal mostly was composed of dirty descriptions of intimacy- all with Andrew. This was the book that you mistakenly left open on your coffee table the night before. His other hand was under his sweatpants, gripping tightly, stroking his cock with wild abandon. He knew it was wrong, that he was invading your privacy, but god, was he weak for you.

“So fuckin’ hot…” He groans, the world around him fuzzy and blurred. “Please” he whimpered, bucking into his hand, a bit of drool leaking onto his chest, soaking the hair that peeked out from under that singlet.

You took it all in, and realized that you should not be watching this. You quickly shut the door, followed by a loud curse from Andy. You could feel your heart pounding in your ear. Fuck, were you wet. You were still in your work clothes, very much dressed like a librarian. But you couldn’t deny the wetness underneath it all, you felt your panties soaking more and more as the seconds passed by, you hated and loved what his simple yet perverted act was doing to you.

Behind the door, Andrew quickly put his conscious, ever twitching length away under those unintentionally slutty grey sweatpants. Or intentionally— you knew this man. Despite his very common bouts of disliking everything about himself, he knew how hot others saw him. And he wasn’t an idiot— he'd seen your reverent stares. He'd noticed how you always stayed wrapped in his arms just a second too long after hugs. He knew that you were attracted to him on some level. Maybe not the full extent, but he knew something was up.

How could he ruin this by wanking off to your private journal? Once his dick was put away, still twitching, leaking a bit in his pants, he ran his hand through his hair, hunched over, filled with guilt. Your moleskin-wrapped journal was abandoned on the floor. Man, did he fuck up.

You leaned into the door, your voice shaky— you were embarrassed, turned on, and terrified all at the same time.

“Andy… you decent?” you called out on the other side of the thin door, meek.

He looked up from his hands covering his flushed face, and responded a very pathetic, “Yea… Ehm, yeah, I am.” He shifted awkwardly, before his pretty hazel eyes fixed upon the floor. Shamed, and rightfully cockblocked.

You opened the door, slowly walking back into your apartment, your eyes focused on the floor, too embarrassed to look over at him. His breathing was shaky— he was scared to take even one step closer to you.

“I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t—“ he cut himself off, taking in a deep breath before speaking again. “I have no excuse, I really, really don’t. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I was.. you were gone, found yer book… and… and I thought you were working, and I'm so fucking sorry, Ang-” He cut himself off with a sob, one finger nervously twisting at a curl.

Angel, huh? The man was always such a sweet talker when he fucked up. Now you weren't even mad at him, how could you be? You wished you could have the image of him pleasuring himself burnt into your eyelids. But you snapped out of these filthy thoughts when he spoke again.

“I’ll just leave, I know you probably need to process this whole thing, but please don’t—“

“No- I mean, it’s…” You took a heavy breath in. Please keep going. You thought, but what slipped out was a little more civil;

“We all do it, yeah? So… so…” You took another heavy breath in, your tone changing to a softer one. “Don’t leave.”

His heart broke with your last words, how could he say no to you?

“No, no, I'm… really sorry, that journal was private. And… and it's not fair to you,” cue the chorus of sniffles, “It's none of my business, even if it's about-”

And when you thought your cheeks couldn't flush more. Your best friend was sobbing, and yet you couldn't help but notice the outline in those sweats. Long, hard, twitching, leaking onto the waistband. Oh, how you wish to swallow it whole.

You took a step closer to him, finally looking into his eyes, they were red and teary, begging for forgiveness. You hugged him, awkwardly, but you knew he didn’t care much about that. He just needed the embrace of another. He felt horrible—disrespectful, dirty, perverted. All he wanted to do was sink into this couch and die from pure sin.

But the closest he could do was sink into you. He was so disappointed in himself that he didn't really notice his face was between your breasts. Fine, he did notice, and it made him even harder. But it was a shameful boner— and he really did derive a lot of comfort from your embrace.

You gently stroked his hair, whispering the occasional ‘you're okay’. Did he notice how hard your nipples were? Did he feel your heart beating? Oh, you felt him. Obviously he was hunched over, in a way that you couldn't feel his cock, but you could feel his shaky hands holding onto you. You could feel the way he nuzzled his nose into your breast— and fuck, did it turn you on.

You moved to the couch, sitting down next to each other, you gently pulled his face from your chest, holding it tenderly in your hands. He looked so ashamed, yet aroused. He closed his eyes for a second, relishing in your touch and caresses, surprised that you even wanted him near you.

He sighed softly, eyes still closed, you placed a tender kiss on his forehead, your thumbs softly rubbing his cheeks in an attempt at comforting him.

When you pulled away slightly, he let out a little whine. He didn't mean to– he was ever so flustered. His cheeks under your fingers were hot, very hot. Like he'd never been kissed on the forehead by someone as pretty as you. You were sure he had, but it was cute to see him fumbling around like he hadn't.

“I really am sorry, I don't deserve this.. you being so damn sweet, when you should really just be yelling at me.. and in your own house, I'm such a-”

“For God's sake, could you shut up?” You blurted, your hand stilling in his hair.

He looked at you with big, wet eyes, almost like a kicked puppy, he looked like he was on the brink of tears. “But I-”

You saw those pretty shining eyes, and that blabbering soft mouth. And all you could think about was shutting him up yourself. You leaned in, the bow of your lips drawn against him in a slow, but nevertheless desperate affair. Andrew sobbed a little into the kiss, but held you close. He needed this, he needed you.

You were the first to slip your tongue into it, tasting his spit. He tasted like coffee and tears. Poor man, an insomniac and depressed. What he needs now is pussy. Plenty of it, to drown his sorrows in.

You kept devouring him, feeling his hands shaking throughout, yet incredibly needy. One hand landed on your thigh, and you fell into him, groaning needily.

God, he could feel the heat radiating from you. He pulled off your kiss-swollen lips and got at your neck, quickly finding the spot that drew you in. He spoke quietly, under your ear

“This good?” He whispered, eyes half lidded. He didn't even try to hide his boner, and you could feel his precum leaking out.

“Mhm..” you whispered reverently, moving his hand up your waist.

He fumbled while unbuttoning your shirt, quickly followed by your bra before he latched onto one of your breasts, needily sucking at your nipple while his hand played with the other one. You whimpered quietly, your hand immediately moving to his hair, fingers tangling in his brown curls. His lips moved to your other nipple, sucking it passionately while his hands travelled lower on your form, undoing your work pants after a bit of a struggle.

You tugged at his hair, leading him to where he was so obviously so very giddy to lap at. He looked up at you, heart eyes so pretty in the golden hour, but ever so feral. You met his gaze with a smile. He kissed a trail down to your clit as he inched both your panties and trousers down at the same time, moving down, licking a firm stripe up your warm pussy, then digging in, and eating you like a man starved.

And god, did he eat you out. Like he was made to. Eager and adoring, he worshipped you between your legs without even pulling away to breathe. His long tongue, soft lips, and nice big fingers— what else would he use them for? Yes, guitar playing, but he'd much prefer to play you instead.

His tongue worked at the lips of your pussy, nose dug into your clit, his stubble drawing giggles from you. It quickly became his safe space. He loved it. He'd always loved it, and he loved it even more now that it was you. His sweet muse.

And his favorite melody, out of all the love songs that he's heard, were your moans. A sweet crescendo, starting soft and shy, but loud enough for all your neighbors to hear by the time his fingers were inside you. You were his, all his. And everyone had to know that. They had to know that he was devouring your decadent body as it deserved to be.

His fingers curled into you, tickling the very spots that made you squirm and squeeze his face with your thighs. You returned his heart eyes before they rolled back.

You moaned so loudly, lewdly. A noise that you didn’t even know you could make. You felt a familiar knot in your belly, the feeling of it tightening only to suddenly snap overwhelming you.

“Fuck, you- Andrew, fucking- God!” You said, frustratingly riding the waves of pleasure running through you.

He looked up, eyes shining, still so very big and needy, but drowning in your orgasm, just as you were. He curled up next to you, catching your lips in a hungry kiss. When he pulled away for air, you smiled, in a way that you hoped he adored.

“You taste like pussy, Andy” You teased with a little giggle.

“Mm… Wonder who’s fault that is, angel.”

You giggled, kissing him again. His hands grabbed your waist and moved you so you were straddling his thigh, you ground against it, unknowingly rubbing his cock while doing so. One of your hands travelled lower towards his sweatpants, slipping under the waistband and wrapping your fingers around his cock. Slowly, you stroked it, the tip of it red and glistening with precum, poking out under his clothes. Your other hand pulled his top off, consumed with the need to feel his skin against yours.

He moaned softly into the kiss, pulling your hips firmly onto his thigh and making you hump it, you moaned in return, and he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t long until you felt him twitching in your hand, his hips buckling towards you ever so slightly, you were going to stop, you wanted him in your mouth before he could finish, but you were too late. He came on your hand and on his abdomen not long after, a thick pearly coating on his slight pudge. You broke the kiss, looking down at his lap and pulling your hand up to your mouth.

He looked into your eyes, and you returned it, almost asking for permission, to which he gave you a small nod and a smile. Your eyes focused back on your hand, still covered with his seed, and you licked it off, quiet, soft moans escaping you as you swallowed his delicious sin.

“Baby, look at me,” he commanded softly, his grip in your thighs tightening. You looked at him, his eyes full of love and lust. “Good girl, now look here,” he pointed at the mess of cum on his abdomen. “Look at what you did.”

“Sorry.” You said with feigned innocence, looking at him with puppy eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet angel.” He cooed in a patronizing tone, knowing you were putting on an act. “Just clean it up for me, yeah? Be good and clean up your mess.”

You nodded, sliding off his lap and onto your knees on the floor. You leaned in close to his tummy, his dick still hard even after his climax. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling you even closer, then, you started licking him clean, his happy trail tickling your tongue in the best way possible. You swallowed him, over and over again while he moaned softly. You slowly started to run your tongue over his cock, looking up at him with your sweet bedroom eyes. He gasped. He adored having someone suck him off after he's already come. It made him see stars, truly.

“Mmmm… you like this, sweetness? You enjoy cleaning me up after you made such a mess of me?” He cooed again, hands brushing through your hair.

You nodded the best you could while his dick was stuffing your mouth up. God, his sweet whimpers and words of encouragement. They really could kill you.

You swallowed him deeper, closing your eyes, trying your best not to gag. You ended up getting a little carried away, your nose pressed hard into his pubic bone, like a puzzle piece. There was a bulge in your throat. You decided to try something out and stroked it from the outside, looking to see if it did anything for him.

And God, did it do something. He let out a noise you thought was impossible. He was there, on the couch, legs spread, back arched as you were on your knees, sucking from the tap. He pulled your hair tighter- probably not intentionally so hard, but it's not like it didn't turn you on.

You kept at it, closing your eyes, drowning in those growls and whimpers. You'd think he was some sort of slut.

He gasped, and starting fucking into your throat, pretty eyes rolling back, legs shaking. After another few languid strokes, he came down your throat, basking in the way you enjoyed this, just as much as he did.

“Good girl, fuck.. your throat, fuck,. Jesus fucking Christ, angel… so tight, Mmm—!” He babbled mindlessly as you pleasured him. God, he adored you.

Adored you so much that he came down your throat. You choked on it a little, pulling back and clearing your throat. You smiled sweetly up at him, cum dripping down your chin, then kissed the tip of his cock, warranting another little burst of cum to shoot at your face.

“Such a messy eater…” He teased lovingly.

You were in the middle of a reply when he stuffed his cock into your mouth again, holding you there.

“Shhh, princess. Nobody's ever taught you to not speak with your mouth full?” There was a smile on his face. God, was he a vision… Cheeks flushed, hair the messiest you've seen it, hands shaking, stray drops of cum on his pale skin. You started to bob your head, but he stopped you.

“Two rounds of sucking me off in a row? I'm sure you get tired. So tired. How about I just do it for you… keep your mouth around me, and I'll take care of the rest. Is that okay with you, angel?”

You gave him those puppy eyes, humming happily as a way to say “yes”.

“Mmmhm? Okay, then..”

He started to fuck into you, a little bit sloppily, his hips bucking. He was feral, truly. He moved quickly, hyperventilating, a third orgasm threatening to happen at any time. He moved faster, fucking your mouth with a surprising amount of strength for a man that had already come twice.

But it became too much, and you had to pull away to take a breath, warranting a surprisingly bratty whimper for a man acting so dominant.

“Wha- Wha- FUCK,” He belted, shooting cum onto the floor, right onto your moleskin notebook, it wasn’t much, just what was left inside of him after the last two orgasms. Your hand was still wiping your chin, and your mouth fell open.

“Jesus, sorry, I didn't know-”

“I didn't either,” he said, irrationally upset. It took him a bit to calm down. He caught his breath as he leaned back on the couch. You got up and sat next to him, gazing up into his brimmed eyes.

“Andy, you know I wanted to swallow, I really did. I want it…”

He looked back down at you, gaze softening. He leaned to your level, grabbing your chin and opening your mouth, then, moved his head on top of yours and slowly let his spit flow from his lips and onto your tongue. You smiled, a little naughtily, and swallowed. God, that was hot.

“Mmmh.” You hummed.

“That's something to swallow, isn't it?”

He leaned in and kissed your tired lips tenderly, as you tangled into him, ending up a cuddling, naked mess on your—now, filthy couch.

He moved you to lay on his chest while he played idly with your hair, his nose buried in it as well, taking in your scent in the quiet evening. His other hand traced patterns on your back, his fingers dancing carefully over your skin, almost fearing you’d shatter like a porcelain doll just from his touch.

His lips pressed onto your forehead, giving you a soft, affectionate kiss that took your breath away for a second. You looked up at him from his chest, your eyes wide and adoring. “Hi,” he murmured softly, not really thinking about what he was saying.

“Hi,” you responded, making the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“This doesn’t feel real.” He whispered softly, still caressing you with all the love in the world.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I never thought I’d actually get to hold you like this, to have been with you like we have.” He elaborated. “This was always more of a fantasy, I didn’t think it’d be real.”

“What, you thought I didn’t like you like that?” You asked, a bit incredulous.

“I knew you thought I was hot, I’m not stupid, I see how you look at me.” He sighed again, his arms tightening around you, his gaze avoiding yours. “But the… ehm, the extent of just how much you liked me was more than I thought it’d be.”

You smiled softly, your hand playing with his chest hair as you listened to him. His voice was like a melody in and of itself, every word he said a note in the symphony of your dreams.

“It’s just…” He continued, his tone even softer. “It’s like there’s steps to all this, you know? There’s finding someone attractive, then there’s wanting to- ehm, have sex with them, and then there’s just wanting to be with them, in every way possible…” He trailed off.

“Andy. What are you trying to say?” You asked, his eyes immediately focusing on yours the moment you finished your sentence.

“That I love you, angel, I have for a long time.” He finally confessed. You felt his heart speed up in his chest, he was so incredibly nervous.

“I love you, too.” You timidly whispered, then placed a quick, loving kiss on his chest. “You can calm down now, your heart is beating way too fast.” You added teasingly.

“Maybe a proper kiss will calm me down.” He teased back.

You moved carefully, crawling up to his eye level and kissing him deeply. He kissed back almost immediately, your mouths moving in tandem to make the perfect kiss. Andrew pulled back after a few seconds, his mind too crowded with thoughts to fully lose himself in you no matter how much he wanted to do just that.

“Let me take you out on a date, somewhere nice,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. His voice little more than a lovesick whisper. “If not, at least let me call you mine.”

“Yes, to both.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his hand.

“Good,” he kissed your forehead. “Sorry to change the topic like this, but I’m exhausted, wanna go to bed?”

You chuckled softly at the change of subject. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.” You argued lovingly.

“I had my fill with you already.”

“Then I guess we can go to bed, but I have to shower first.” You stood up from your cuddling position on the couch, watching Andrew follow suit not long after. “Maybe put a movie on my laptop and we can watch it afterwards?”

You looked up at him with begging eyes while holding his hand in yours, he smiled, he couldn’t say no to you, especially now.

“As you wish, princess.” He took your hand to his lips and kissed it playfully, a small giggle escaping you both. “Any movie in particular you desire to watch, your majesty?”

“Okay, cut it out,” you continued to giggle, “just choose one you like, yeah? I’m gonna shower.”

With that, you went to your bathroom to clean yourself up while Andrew went to your room and set everything up, including cleaning himself as best he could and fixing his messy, post-orgasmic appearance.

You came back from the shower after almost an hour, hair still wet, in comfy sweatpants and a tank top. You made your way to your room, waiting to see your angel. He sat there, in bed, scrolling on his phone, hair up in a messy bun. He looked nothing short of adorable— cleaned up nicely too.

Your laptop was next to him. It seems he'd already chosen a movie, Legally Blonde, for some reason. You sank next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“You like chick flicks?” You asked, with a giggled cadence.

“Nothing short of modern masterpieces, they are.” He replied, starting the movie and letting your body adjust against him. You clicked, your arms the perfect length around his waist, your lips the perfect curve against his, your nose perfectly nesting into his pulse.

You fell asleep first. Fast asleep- not stirring in the slightest. He thought your slight snores and weird murmurs were adorable. He'd much rather fall asleep to those than any movie. He closed the laptop and set it on your bedside table, his long arms holding you tight into the late hours.

He ended up having the best sleep in a while— no thoughts of upcoming concerts or snobby dinners to torment him. You somehow made it all stop. In his busy world, you were his only constant. Something he wanted to hold close to and never let go.

——

Andrew adored your face. He saw it everywhere- the pure beauty of it. He saw your beauty in the Irish hillsides. He heard your voice in every old timey love song. Everywhere, everything, it was always you.

In the early morning, he found himself gazing at you again, a long finger tracing your cheek. He sighed contentedly, completely enamored with you. His limbs tangled further into yours. This went on for about half an hour— his sweet touches and comforting, soft kisses.

Your eyes fluttered open. Your first view of the day was Andrew cupping your cheeks, his head tilted. You smiled dorkily at him, your view still unfocused.

“Morning, sleepin’ beauty” He greeted in that soothing Irish lilt of his. You responded with a groan— giving him the opportunity to scoop you up in his arms, holding you to his chest. You giggled into the firm, warm body.

“Hey!” You grogged. He pulled you even further up, paving a path of smooches along your face, whispering sweet nothings.

“So pretty when you wake up, you know that? Sweet, sweet angel… and you're all mine…” he was getting lost in you, reciting all his best praise while you were barely away from the sandman.

It took a while for you to properly wake up. When the consciousness came, you returned his kisses sloppily, hand coming up to tangle in that messy brown hair.

The kisses got more desperate and messy as you went, desperate to taste each other, to catch up on everything you've missed. You grew a little dominant— even a little frustrated. You rolled him over, warranting a whimper, then pulled away, laying on your side next to him.

“You're so needy in the mornings.”

“Huh?” He whispered hoarsely, looking up at you with half lidded eyes.

“I said you're needy in the mornings. All kisses and sweet words…”

You got onto him, warranting a little ‘oomph’ to squeeze out. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding you steadily, groaning as your thigh brushed against him.

You put your thumb in his mouth, slowly grinding and watching as he sucked it at the same pace. The little pacifier kept him quiet, even when you were ruthlessly rutting into his growing hardness.

He looked up at you with shiny eyes before his head tilted to the side, giving you a full view of his beautiful, biteable neck.

You stop grinding for a second. You ached to keep staring into those lovely breaking eyes, “Andy, look up.”

He obediently gazed up at you through thick lashes, mouth biting your thumb a little. You kept going, watching as he tried not to lose his locked stare. His hand moved to your wrist, trying to pull to take your thumb out of his mouth, you shushed him in return, pushing it in a little deeper.

“Keep it in,” you ordered softly, starting to grind on his crotch once more. He listened, lightly biting your thumb to suppress his moans. “That’s it, good boy.” You added in a sultry whisper.

Andrew’s eyes shot open, you felt his dick harden almost immediately, the size poking at you through the layers of clothing. He pulled your thumb out of his mouth, his eyes dark with lust. His hands moved to your waist and threw you onto the bed, making you whimper.

You looked up at him as he moved on top of you, caging you into the mattress with his long arms. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head with just one hand, then pushed his knee between your legs, smiling devilishly at you.

“Grind.” He ordered, his voice stern yet undeniably full of love for you. His thumb found your clit, tracing obnoxiously slow circles over it.

You obediently rubbed against his knee, the dual stimulation of his finger and your actions making your back mold into an arch. You struggled playfully against his grip, moaning softly as your hips moved.

You kept grinding, eventually losing yourself and collapsing onto him. “Awww, that's not all you have in you, is it, baby?” He teased, his grin widening.

“C’mere, let me treat you.” He spoke in a lowered octave, gently nudging you over, as if asking for permission to take you.

You let him guide you over, your eyes hungry, legs wrapping around his waist. He firmly kissed down the side of your face, sinking down to your clavicle, and getting to work, sucking at it for a good few minutes- summoning giggles that quickly turned to moans of pure desperation. When he finally pulled away, what was left of all the sucking and biting was a reddish purple mark that he blew on, the air sending a shiver down your spine.

“Was that okay, darling? I’m sure you have some turtlenecks you can wear for a couple days if you need them.” He continued to kiss down your body, his voice even more rough. “Though I’d rather you didn’t, the idea of you going out with my mark on display is so fucking hot.”

“I work at a library, I can’t just have hickeys on displa— FUCK!” Andrew sucked on your chest, intending to leave another mark while his hand had traveled down to your core again, only to insert two fingers inside you this time, thrusting away any words left in you.

He smiled as he pulled away again, blowing softly on the second mark he’d left, his eyes already scanning your body in search of a spot for the third and fourth ones, all while never stopping his fingers inside you.

His mouth found your tummy just as his thumb found your clit, you moaned loudly, trying to thrust into his fingers but getting stopped by the rest of him on his quest to mark you fully. Not like you’d complain though, you’d be lying if you said the thought of being marked by him all over didn’t turn you on.

The pattern repeated as he went lower, marking your abdomen a few more times while his fingers worked on you, getting you closer to your climax. He sucked on your inner thigh, leaving his last mark on you before replacing his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking on it while he fingered you still. You screamed from pleasure, your hands gripping the bed sheets as you felt your orgasm washing down on you in intense waves of ecstasy. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and your moans turned into whines, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, almost making out with your clit before sitting back on his heels.

He put his soaked fingers up to your mouth, you welcomed them, sucking off your essence and making Andrew smile. He took one of your legs and put your ankle over his shoulder, straddling your other one in a way that made his cock perfectly align with your entrance. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trailing them down in a path that connected all your hickeys and continued down your belly, pressing down on the weak spot right under your belly button.

You giggled, batting your lashes up at him. Truly, you wanted him to fuck you until your guts split, and the best way to get that would be to put on the innocent act— one that you had quickly learned was his favourite. Even if he knew it was little more than that.

He rubbed the tip of his cock over your soaked folds, watching as you tried to keep the little act up. And it was hard, when he was there, with his chest hair and stupid smirking pretty face. When his hair was in a side part, tossing every time he made a sudden move.

He pinned you down with his lean arms. He squeezed into you, feeling your pussy envelope him, squeezing around his cock in just the right way. He didn’t take the time to ease you in, quickly building the pace up, gritting his teeth. He fucked the woman he loved the most in the most feral way possible.

You loved this side of him, your body instinctively moving your legs to where he perfectly hit your g-spot with each needy thrust. You abruptly came after a few of these- making that your second orgasm.

But he kept going, and you kept laying there and looking so utterly fuckable. Legs spread, tits bouncing, eyes rolling back every time he hit your sweet spot.

“God, you're such a pretty thing. Wish I could just stay inside you all day, keeping me warm…”

He kept going. At this point, your eyes couldn't even keep open. Your nails dug into his back as he leaned closer to you, little half-crescents engraving into his pale skin. He was close to you now, chest sweat dripping onto your face. You could feel his hot breath and hear his beautiful moans, and feel the spit dripping out of his growling mouth.

You yelped as a strange sensation took you, snapping him out of it. You whined and wrapped your leg, that had now fallen off his shoulder, around his hips, practically begging for him to continue his thrusts. You didn't even notice at first— it was him who pulled out. He felt your squirt soak his dick, biting his lip, slapping his dick lightly to try and drain you as you squirted all over him.

“Jesus… You just do that, love?” He whispered lowly, dripping in shock— still incredibly turned on.

“No! I… I didn’t know I could…” You said softly, still trying to catch your breath.

He laughed and leaned in, kissing your cheek, “Well, I'm glad to be the one to help you find out, Mmm?”

He was silent for a few beats, then placed his hand tenderly on your cheek, “Are you okay? Can I keep going?”

“Please put it back in…” You begged.

He smiled. “As you wish, my love.”

He did exactly that, pushing back into you, getting lost in your body once more. Sweet moans escaping him as he chased his own release.

He felt his balls growing tighter, moaning in almost your key, his hot seed bursting into you. He gave you a big dorky smile, still slowly fucking in and out as his cock started to soften.

Andrew leaned in and kissed your face all over, still buried inside you, feeling your warmth around him, and, slowly, coming back to earth from the heaven that you’d taken him to. Your arms enveloped him lovingly, he melted in your gentle touch, his heart swelling with love for you. His eyes widened in a split second, realisation setting in.

“Shit, baby, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t- christ.” He mumbled apologetically, caressing your face, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear, I didn’t mean to, angel.”

You looked at him, slightly confused as to why he was apologising so much.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, slowly getting your strength back.

“I didn’t put a condom on, I’m sorry, I completely forgot, I’ll go to the store and get you the pill.” He apologised again, his voice threatening to break from the nerves.

“Andy, hey, calm down,” you smiled, caressing his face with one of your hands. “It’s fine, I’m on birth control, stop worrying.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at you with loving eyes. “Thank God,” he chuckled, kissing your lips for a split second, “still, I’m sorry, I should’ve put one on anyway when I didn’t know if you were on birth control or not.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, taking the moment to finally pull out of you, swallowing your soft whines as he did. His cum flowed out of you, the sight of it making Andrew smile darkly. He went to your bathroom and came back with a washcloth, gently cleaning you up.

“The bed’s wet, love, want me to carry you to mine?” He asked, caressing your cheek with all the tenderness in the world.

You nodded in response, then felt his arms wrap around you and carry you to the guest bedroom he’d been staying in. He laid you on the mattress, you yawned, your legs exhausted. You had to admit, you always got so sleepy after sex. Your exes hated it— but Andrew found it so endearing. He gently tucked you in, kissing your sweat-slick forehead.

“You’re so beautiful, angel. Be a good girl and get some good rest for me. You deserve it.” You reached for him with grabby hands as he threw boxers and a big knit sweater on. He smiled at the sight. “I’ll be back, okay? I just have… something to do. Go to sleep for me. Please, angel.”

So, you— being the sweet, obedient angel that you were, fell asleep after just a few seconds. He got up and washed his messy hands, then got to work on your breakfast. He decided on pancakes. Which he was able to make into somewhat perfect hearts.

He put the pancakes, along with fresh berries, on a platter and brought them in after an hour and a half or so.

He placed them on the bedside table, then gently shook you awake.

“Wake up, love, I made breakfast.” He greeted, like he wasn't deep inside you two hours ago.

You looked up at him with a hazy stare, “You can cook?” You mumbled, looking at the plate.

“Of course I can cook. What other way could I have charmed girls?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, sitting up and placing the heated platter on your lap, “No idea.”

He sat next to you, snacking on some of your berries, watching as you ate. He was possibly the biggest loverboy in the world, obsessed with everything you did.

“What?” You ask, noticing his constant puppylike stare

“I don't want to go back to my house. I want to be like this. For as long as you'll have me.”

God, was he an angel. He really thought you'd grow tired of him?

“Then I think you'll be living in this shitty apartment forever, Andrew.”

“Forever?”

“Or until it finally falls apart and the building collapses on our heads, whatever happens first.” You giggled.

“In that case we could move to mine, then.” He suggested, smiling lovingly. “After the bug problem gets fixed, that is.”

“Be nice to the bugs, technically they’re the ones that brought us together.” You teased, kissing him gently.

“I’ll tell the exterminator to be gentle when killing them.” He teased back, returning the kiss passionately.

#hozier fanfiction #hozier fic #hozier #hozier smut #hozier x reader #mornfic #andrew hozier byrne #hozier rpf

114 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 1 year ago

Text

Secret Spot

Summary: The secret spot.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Librarian!Reader

Warnings: just fluff, mentions of his business, established relationship

A/N: I love soft mafia Bucky. So, you will all suffer with me...

Part 3

Soft Spot masterlist

“Doll, where are we going?” Bucky sighs as you harshly tug at his wrist.

“You must see this, Bucky. It’s perfect…”

You want him to follow toward a shop, hidden at the end of an alley. He frowns as the store looks a little…shabby. The windows have cracks, the door has seen better days, and in front of it stands a box filled with old books…

“Ah, I get it. You found another bookstore.”

“No!” You drop your hand from his wrist to cup his face with both hands. “Bucky, that’s not just an ordinary bookstore. It’s the one I visited when I was a little girl.”

At that, Bucky smiles. He softly says your name, as you keep on babbling about how much you love the store. “They give away books for free too, look.” You point at the box which has seen better days.

“What did you say last time?” He dips his head to glance at the books. “You cannot buy another book.”

“But…uh…that’s a bookstore, and it’s impolite to not buy a book if you enter it,” you conclude, and batt your eyelashes. “Let's go inside. I’ll show you my secret spot.”

“Secret spot?” Bucky furrows his brows. You are adorable to him when you talk about books and your passion for reading. “Let’s go then. I don’t want to miss the chance to see your secret spot.”

You give him a wink. “To more books,” you smirk. “I knew you’ll love it.”

Bucky follows you inside the bookstore. It looks a little better inside, but not much. The shelves look like they are going to fall apart at any time and we don't want to talk about the wallpapers, carpet, and reading corner. “Y/N, be careful. These shelves…”

“Are my dreamland!” you clap your hands. “Look over there.” Pointing at a spot at the far right you grin. “That’s it. My secret spot.” You whisper. “I used to hide there from the world when I was a kid. And sometimes before I met you. I sat on the ground and read books.”

Bucky’s heart wants to burst as you tell him you didn’t need this place since you met him. “It’s a nice bookstore.”

“It’s a wreck of a store,” the owner clicks his tongue. “But it’s all I have.” The elderly owner says. He has seen better days too. His shirt looks worn-out, and his tired eyes tell Bucky he didn’t seel much lately.

“Doll, how about you look at the books,” Bucky whispers, hoping you won’t get lost between the shelves. “I’ll be right there.”

“More books…more books.” You chant like the bookworm you are. “See you later, Bucky Bear.”

And off you go. Bucky watches you, chuckling as you look over your shoulder to blow him a kiss.

“She’s a nice young woman,” the owner says. “My only constant customer. If not for her, I’d close the store.”

“Hmm…” Bucky looks around the store again. “How much longer can you keep the store open?”

“Not much longer, son,” the man shrugs. “It’s…everyone buys books online or at that fancy new store in town. I can’t keep up, young man.”

Looking at you, happily roaming the shelves Bucky sighs. “What if you get a little help? My girl loves this store, so…what do you need?”

The owner gasps. “I…I won’t lend money from you Sir. I can’t pay it back.”

“That’s not what I had in mind,” Bucky shushes the man. “I’ll help you keep the bookstore open, and make sure people will buy their books here, and you will not give up business as long as you want to run the store. If you ever want to close it, I’ll buy it.”

“Young man,” the owner nods knowingly, “you must love that girl with all your heart if you offer to safe my business.”

“I’d do anything for her.”

“I had someone like her once upon a time too,” the owner says. “If it makes your girl happy, I’ll keep the store open.”

“Deal,” Bucky offers his hands. “I’ll send my lawyer this week. You can tell Andy how much money you’ll need to keep the business running and to do some…renovations…” Bucky hands the owner his car. “If you need help, give me a call.”

“Thank you, Sir…”

“BUCKY! Come here! I’ll share my secret spot with you,” you call for your boyfriend, waving your hands. “Hurry!”

“I’m gonna marry that woman,” Bucky grins. He already got the ring. He just needs to prepare the perfect proposal…

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mafia au #mobster!bucky #mobster bucky barnes x reader

405 notes · View notes

lillaydee · 18 days ago

Text

Uncoupled - July

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

The Uncoupling

---

You switched your phone off after calling Eddie, telling him you were out. Throughout that five minutes call, notifications and incoming calls kept appearing on your screen, driving you nuts. Eddie and his wife Annie were elated, telling you to not bother unpacking, their scheduled move was looking to be right on schedule, and you were moving in with them. No questions asked, not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Your niece was extremely excited; she had been given a basic modern Nokia since she was starting pre-school in autumn, the phone only had three numbers in it – Mommy, Daddy, and Beans. She had been calling you non-stop, asking you what you were doing and how many days were left until you move in with them. Annie had already threatened to confiscate the phone – the bill was shocking for a five-year-old with three contact numbers in her basic ass phone with no Wi-Fi or internet connection.

Tess and Frank had run out when they saw you park, eyes scanning the surroundings in case Max decided to follow you. You didn’t know why they thought that; the man was no James Bond. He was never going to come after you like that. Inundate you with phone calls? Maybe. But follow you? Nah… You’d need balls to do that, and you doubt he had any, despite being a man. You were greeted by Bill, Frank’s husband, as soon as you walked in, the stoic man hugging you tight, telling you he was proud of you for leaving that wimpy ass man. Frank shushed him before he could get too worked up. True, he had called Bill over to be a guard dog, just in case, but now that there was no threat to be seen, he didn’t want the man raising his blood pressure for no reason.

The three of them helped you set up your office, rearranging some things around so that you could be more comfortable. They had all offered their places for you to stay at while Eddie was still not here, but they lived with their partners in two-bedroomed houses, one of the rooms an art studio for Frank and an office for Andy, Tess’s girlfriend, who worked from home, so if you were going to end up on a couch anyway, might as well be in the privacy of your office. At least you could cry about your failed marriage alone. The bakery had a security system, and the PD was just around the corner, so you did feel safe being here, not to mention having a bakery meant waking up at ungodly hours to prep, so now, at least for two weeks, your commute was much shorter.

Actually, even after Eddie had moved in, your commute would still be short. Eddie bought one of the old houses from one of the first residence area when the town opened, which was just behind the school field a couple of blocks away. Somehow, he managed to find one that hadn’t been renovated at all, the couple who lived there a bit nostalgic about the place, having lived there all their married lives until the husband passed last year. The wife sold it at a steal, being sick and childless, having decided to move to a retirement home now that she was all alone. Andy was a real estate agent, and managed to tip Eddie about the sale, and he got it at first offer. He had all sorts of plans for it down the road, when he and Annie could build up their savings again.

According to Andy, the house was in great condition, clean and ready to move into. It’s just dated. You hadn’t seen it, too busy distracting yourself from thinking about your husband’s dalliances back then. Oh well, you’re sure Eddie made the right choice, the dependable, responsible man that he was.

The three insisted they stayed with you until dinner time, Andy arriving a little after closing with some Chinese. As depressing as the whole situation was, you were glad you had these people with you in your corners. You would have been in theirs too, if you’re honest. Frank and Tess had been your friends since college, taking the part time classes together. They had been working in the corporate world all their adult lives, making good money, but could feel their sanity waning. So when you told them your plan to open a bakery, they jumped at the opportunity to invest. Frank soon quit his job and took cake decorating classes, his first love being art all along, now designing gorgeous cakes for special occasions all over town instead of buildings, and Tess quit her job as a lawyer soon after, realizing that letting her frustrations out on dough had better repercussions than doing so on her bigoted and misogynistic colleagues.

So now, all three of you spent your days baking, decorating, chilling together in the bakery, the two of them making significantly less than they did before, but with much lower blood pressures.

Naturally, the subject of what happened at Jen’s house came up. You told them about your talk with Joel and the lovers’ reactions when they realized you were there, all of them looking scandalized by the happy couple’s pleading and begging. Really? Beg for what? Hmph!

They had all known Max for years, saw his change from the start. They saw first hand what he had put you through, and there was no doubt in your mind that they hated him for it.

“Oh! Joel said he liked our rice pudding! He said he bought them a lot. Joel is the mistress’s husband, by the way, if I wasn’t clear before.”

Tess, Andy and Frank sat up straight.

The teacher from the school? Tall? Broad as heck? Beard? Moustache? Curls for days?

Honestly, you had no idea who was asking the questions. You didn’t even know if he’s the same person they were talking about. You didn’t even know what he did for a living. Bill was the only one who seemed as in the dark as you were.

“Er… I don’t know for sure… but… yeah, I guess?”

Oh. My. God.

It was all three of them this time. Frank, Tess and Andy.

“What?”

“Max cheated on you with RPH’s wife?” Frank looked as if he wasn’t breathing.

“RPH?”

The three nodded enthusiastically.

“Rice Pudding Hunk. He comes in every day. Only buys rice pudding. Best 10 minutes of the day.”

Tess and Andy nodded again.

Bill’s head snapped towards his husband. “Rice Pudding what, now?”

“Oh, Bill, the guy is totally hot.”

“Super-hot,” Andy chimed in.

“Ridiculously hot,” Tess finished.

All three of them took a long, deep sigh, staring dreamily out of the bakery window.

Okay… you rolled your eyes and began fishing for broccoli in your Chow Mein. You were trying hard to get one particularly juicy, sauce-covered looking one with your chopsticks, your tongue out in concentration.

“So, did you get his number?”

Huh?

“Why would I get his number?”

“You know, share sob stories, vent, maybe… release a certain… need together.”

“What?”

“Hey, he’s really, really hot!”

“I have eyes, thank you.”

“So?”

“So, men looking like that do not go for women like me. You should’ve seen his wife. She looks like a Victoria’s Secret model, if they were only slightly taller than me. If plain old Max who had known me most of my life could find reason not to be attracted to me anymore, why the heck would someone looking like Joel want someone like me?”

“Hey, you’re totally cute.”

“Super cute.”

“Ridiculously cute.”

You rolled your eyes. So sweet of these people. But everyone knew what ‘cute’ meant. It meant ‘not hot’, that’s what it meant. You seemed to recall people questioning if Max, who by any measure was average looking, was really with you. To the general public, you were not even attractive enough to be with someone average looking.

That night, after they all left, you found yourself lying in the dark unable to sleep. For the first time since the age of 15, since you and Max became an official couple, you were alone. Did you even know how to be alone? Sure, you’d technically been alone since Max stopped paying any attention on you, but now, you’re really, truly, alone. You looked at your ring finger, the ring tan line still visible despite taking the ring off weeks ago, which Max hadn’t even bothered to notice.

Even having dinner with those four, tonight, it felt different. All this while, when you would be the fifth wheel to the two couples, you had never felt like the odd one out. You were in a couple too, but your supposed other half stopped hanging out with your friends once he found his new, fancy, hoity-toity ones. But you knew you had a partner, as absent as he was. It made you feel better, somehow, knowing you had him somewhere. But now…

You reached out for your phone and finally switched it back on.

As soon as the coverage was up, oodles of notifications came swarming in, about 100 from Max, and another 50 or so from a number you didn’t recognize, which, judging by the initial text, was Jen’s.

Max’s messages began with question marks, and then actual questions asking you what the fuck were you thinking? And then full-on raging at you for daring to leave him. Who were you to leave him? Who would take you now? Did you know how lucky you were that he even deigned to look at you? What man would take you? You were nothing without him. He’s leaving you, how about that? How did it feel to be dumped? Huh? The rage turned to bragging about what he and Jen were going to do now that you were out of his life. He could not wait until the year was up, so he could marry her.

And then, within the space of seconds, according to the time stamp, the bragging turned into pleading. Please reconsider. Please come home. The house felt empty without you. Please baby. Come back. Please.

By the time you finished reading his slew of texts, which ended with a big fat fuck you, you were exhausted. How you wished you could just block him, change your number, but Tess advised you not to do that, even her former colleague who you went to for advice told you not to. Keep the texts. The voicemails. For the divorce. So you settled with muting him for now. Maybe one day you’ll just get another number and keep this one just for him to call you every name under the sun at. But until then, muting would have to do. You switched the phone back off and went to sleep.

Huh. Who would’ve thought reading texts from your soon to be ex husband would make you feel better about being single again. He had been a huge presence in your life for half your life. You were fucking terrified, yes, but oh so glad that you left.

You wondered what Joel was feeling at that very moment. Was he sleeping soundly? Or was he just as terrified as you were to start fresh?

**********

Joel sat in his truck for what felt like hours when he got to Tommy and Maria’s. They were both not home yet, and even though he had the keys, he just felt like an intruder, going into their marital home without them being there. He rubbed his face, trying to calm himself. He had made the mistake of opening the first slew of texts Jen sent him when he got there. The texts, which started with her pleading for him to pick up her calls soon became nasty. One in particular stuck with him.

‘Where would you be without me, Joel? Huh? Who’s gonna take you in? What woman in their right mind would take a cuck like you in their lives? Women need strong men, Joel. Providers. Leaders. Not you. You couldn’t even feed me if you tried, Joel. You didn’t even leave when I told you I wanted to fuck other men. You are weak. Pathetic. Whoever you were running off to, Joel, would be a downgrade compared to me. So go, you pathetic, limp dick of a cuck!’

A cuck. That’s what she called him. A cuck. Because he didn’t run amok when he found out about her infidelities. Because he wasn’t making enough money. Because he didn’t assert dominance in their marriage.

It was as if he would lose either way. If he had been controlling of her since the beginning, he could just imagine the shit she would’ve called him. An abuser, a manipulator. When he didn’t, he’s a cuck. There was no winning with her. Did she even love him?

And yet, when she started begging, hugging his leg, he could feel his heart soften for her. This was the woman who used to tell him she couldn’t live without him. Even after everything she had done to him, hurled at him, he found himself unable to be rough with her. She was still his wife. The woman he tried his mightiest to make happy. As miserable as she had made his life these few years, there was a time he went hungry just so he could buy her an engagement ring worthy of his love for her. At that moment, when she tearfully clawed at the door handle of his truck, begging him to stay, he really thought he might cave. Until you drove by, beeping at him, snapping him out of the reminiscing his traitorous heart was making him do.

His phone had been vibrating non-stop since then. Calls, texts, voicemails, the likes. He couldn’t bring himself to look again. If they’re just more of her calling him whatever colourful names she could think of, he didn’t want to know. If they’re just more of her begging and pleas, he didn’t want to cave. He knew he needed to let this go.

Maria knocked on his window, asking him what he was doing outside. It’s boiling out here. Come on inside.

She helped him carry his stuff inside, despite his protests. They had turned her office into a room for him, an old futon from her old apartment all made up for him to sleep on. She asked him if he needed anything else and he shook his head, thanking her for letting him stay. She squeezed his hand in response, her heart broken for this gentle bear of a man. She’s making dinner, she told him. Take your time and come out when you’re ready, okay?

Joel sat on the futon, seriously wondering how life was going to be for him now. His phone was still vibrating incessantly, a number he didn’t recognize now joined in on the texts. He got up and asked Maria if she knew how he could mute someone. She had advised him not to block Jen, all the texts and voicemails could be evidence for the divorce. He was so thankful for her for her advice during all this. She had recommended a colleague of hers to represent him, pro bono. He owed her a favour, she had told him. He had asked her not to do that, but Tommy told him there was no use arguing with a lawyer.

It took her seconds to mute Jen for him, and that other number too, as she suspected that it was the guy she was with, going by the texts. He thanked her, rolling his sleeves to help her with dinner, despite her protests. Please, he said, let me at least do this for you, taking the knife from her hand and began chopping the onions she had started chopping.

He told Maria and Tommy what happened when he went to pick up his stuff during dinner, both of them scoffing at her dramatic clinging to his leg, begging him to stay. Hmph. Stay for what? Joel swore Maria’s eyes rolled up so high he couldn’t even see her irises at one point.

They had known Jen for a long time and saw how much she’d changed. They saw first hand what she had put him through, and he was quite certain that they hated her for it.

Thank God he had them in his life.

“So, the wife, what’s her name?” Tommy asked.

“Why?”

“She hot?”

“Tommy!” Maria smacked him on the shoulder.

“What? They’re kindred spirits. Their partners are already going at it, why not them? Doesn’t have to be anything serious, just… you know, for… stress relief.”

Maria closed her eyes, opening them again to give Joel an ‘I’m sorry’ look. Joel laughed, shaking his head.

“I just moved out, Tommy. I have no time, nor the mind or will to think about stuff like that. And she’s exactly in the same boat as I am, so, no.”

“But she is, hot?”

“She’s cute. She owns that bakery that sells those rice puddings near the school. Lil Beans?”

“Lily? Lily Williams? Jen is cheating on you with Lily William’s husband?” Maria shrieked, getting Tommy all excited that she had known you.

“What? You know her babe?”

“She’s my client. I’m handling her pending divorce. She’s Tess’s best friend, you remember Tess? I don’t think you’ve met but I’m sure I’ve told you about her. She used to work with me. Oh, she’s totally cute. Adorable as a bunny rabbit.”

“Tess?”

“No, you muppet, Lily! And she’s so nice, too. And a great baker. You should try something else at that bakery apart from the rice pudding. Everything she makes is delicious.”

“Yeah, Joel, you know there are other desserts other than rice pudding? You can’t keep having rice pudding you know. Explore a bit.”

Joel and Maria were quiet for a bit.

“Are you still talking about rice puddings? Or something else?” Joel asked Tommy.

“Look, brother, you are a loyal man, and that’s a good thing. But being loyal to Jen got you here. Maybe, now that you’ve left, you need to explore a bit. You’re a single good-looking man, there are others for you out there. Maybe Jen doing this with that guy is kismet. Maybe you and Lily should… you know, talk. Share experiences. Be ‘friends’,” Tommy did the air quotes, winking at his brother.

Joel scoffed and continued eating. Max made more than double what Jen did. Jen made sure to tell him that. If Jen could make him feel like a useless wimp for not being able to afford fancy holidays to take her on, what would you think of him? You must have been accustomed to a certain lifestyle being married to a man like Max, why would you lower your standards for some primary school teacher making pennies such as himself?

Joel went back to his room once he cleared the kitchen with Tommy, wanting to give his brother and his wife some alone time. He’s used to being the third wheel with them, but now, somehow, it just felt… off. For whatever reason, being the third wheel when he himself was in a couple felt different to now. Now he just felt like he was intruding.

Fuck. He’s single again. This was alien to him. He’d been with Jen for half his life, literally. Fifteen years. It’s all he knew. Even during those times she treated him the way she did, there was an ease in his mind knowing that he was not alone. But now, he just felt… lost. He looked at his ring finger, the tan line still there despite taking his ring off months ago, not that Jen noticed. He was a married man. He liked being married. Even now, knowing how miserable he was, he missed it. He missed having the routine of going home to someone.

Oh well, maybe it’s not meant to be.

He laid on his futon, taking the book he had started the day before to read. He could hear Tommy and Maria laughing at something they were watching on TV. He remembered the times he and Jen used to do that. God, what an idiot he was. He tried so hard, so many times to take her back to those times, remind her what they had together. It took him so long to accept that she was no longer interested in that life. She was no longer interested in him.

As relieved as he was that he left, he was terrified by what he was about to walk into. Could he be single again after all this time?

Sigh.

He wondered what you feeling at that very moment. Were you sleeping soundly? Or were you just as terrified as he was to start fresh?

**********

“Oh God, Eddie, was that door a time machine?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The house looked like it was stuck in the past. The wallpapers, the cabinetry, the bathrooms, the carpeting, all of it, it was basically the 70s.

“Shut up. It was cheap, it has room, and we could change things over the years,” Eddie was defensive, although you could see the glint of excitement in his eyes, his arm snaking around Annie’s waist from behind, hugging her so tight the woman squealed.

“Eww… Beans, make them stop. They’re always doing that!” Ellie shouted from the piggyback you had her on. You could just see her face then. So dramatic when it came to PDAs from her parents.

“Hey, you came from one of these, so you’re not one to complain, missy,” Eddie told her, making Annie slap his arms.

“Beans, what’s he talking about?”

“Nothing. Forget you heard that,” you told her, taking her to your room to unpack whatever small amount of belonging you had.

Annie had gone all girly auntie lady on your room, ordering the most princessy bed she could find at Ikea for you. The white metal kind with swirls and florets all over the curved and stylized headboard. She had been disappointed Ellie didn’t want one for herself, opting for the simpler black metal day bed, so she took her frustrations out on you instead. She was so happy to know she was having a girl, dragging you around the mall to buy every pink stuff she could find every time she and Eddie was in town to visit you. She was so deflated when Ellie grew up to not like pink at all, but being the awesome mother that she was, she let Ellie choose anything she liked.

And you? Despite your personal feelings about that bed, you were just thankful you had one at all. So you were not going to complain.

It took the three of you a whole week to unpack. As soon as the last box was flattened and placed with the recycling, you treated them all to a wonderful dinner at the fancy steak place in town, splurging as a thank you to your brother, his wife and their kind consideration for you.

You sat in the backyard with him as Annie tucked a sleepy Ellie in bed.

“Thanks Ed, for taking me in, I don’t know how to thank you,” you told him.

“What? Of course you do. I expect good dessert every day, thank you very much.”

You laughed out loud, feeling ever so grateful you had him in your life.

“You bought a nice place, Ed, it’ll be an awesome forever home someday. Once we fix it a bit. I promise I’m not gonna take too long to find another place, okay?”

“The fuck are you talking about? You’re staying. End of. Until you find yourself a man, one who can actually take good care of you this time, and I’m not talking about money, you are staying here with us. Annie agrees. We’re not taking no for answer. Plus, you want to tell Ellie her only aunt would rather live somewhere other than across the hall from her? I don’t want to do that. She’ll hate me for life.”

“Come on Ed, I can’t impose on you forever.”

“Nuh uh, nope. Listen to me, Beans, you’re family. We’re all each other has. Mom and dad would rise from the grave if they knew we live in the same town and not live together. You want to risk that?”

You laughed, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Plus, the house was gonna be yours anyway, if something happened to me and Annie.”

You lifted your head off.

“What are you talking about?”

“We finalized our will. If something were to happen to both Annie and I, you get the house, and custody of Ellie.”

“What the fuck, Ed? Why would you talk about something like that? It’s not funny!”

He gave you a very serious look.

“I’m being serious. We have a child, we have to think about these things. And we don’t trust anyone but you to take care of Ellie. You would take care of her, wouldn’t you? Like she was your own?”

“Of course I would, but I don’t like you talking about shit like this Ed. It’s not funny. If you die before me, I will kill you. You understand?”

Your eyes were filled with tears, the prospect and thought of him leaving you was just too much. He pulled you into a side hug, kissing your temple.

“Promise me you’ll stay alive Ed. What would I do without you? Don’t even talk about shit like that to me. Promise me, Ed. Promise me,” you sobbed.

He pulled you into a full hug, letting you sob into his shoulder.

“I promise Beans, I promise.”

**********

The bell to the front door of your bakery jingled. Tess yelled out that she would be right out, and for whoever it was to browse first. She was washing flour off her hands when you told her you’d take this one. Ellie’s voice was already piping up behind the counter. Who are you? What’s your name? What are you doing here? Why are you so old? Why is your face like that? The male voice that was trying to answer didn’t stand a chance – her questions were incessant, one after the other, like bullets.

“Ellie, what are you doing? Are you trying to scare my customers away now?”

“Hi, it’s you. Lily, right?”

Oh… it’s him. He’s here. You were always in the back when he dropped by apparently, you had no knowledge of the RPH until they told you.

“No, It’s not Lily. It’s Beans,” Ellie answered for you, standing on a chair so she could see over the counter, arms crossed on her little chest, her face a bit sceptical of Joel.

“Ellie, stop it. He’s a customer. Be nice.”

“It’s okay, really. I don’t mind. Hi, I’m Joel.”

“You are a man, right?”

Er… where were you going with this, Ellie?

“Last I checked, I am.”

“You have balls?”

“ELLIE!!!”

“What? Daddy said all men have balls. Except Max,” she looked at Joel and told him outright, “Daddy calls him No Balls Max.”

Oh dear God.

“Good to know,” Joel laughed, giving Ellie a fist bump, and then pretending to hurt his hand when she bumped it with her tiny fist.

Tess came out and gave Ellie a high-five. Good girl, she said, come on, let’s leave your auntie Beans alone with RPH. Bye old man, Ellie yelled as she followed Tess to the back.

“RPH?”

“Feel free to ignore them. Hi, what can I get you?”

“I’ll have the rice pudding and the egg tarts please.”

You got what he asked for, apologizing profusely for Ellie’s potty mouth. He laughed it off.

“That’s a smart kid. She’s gonna be a ballbuster one day. I take it that’s your niece?”

“Yeah… she starts pre-school in September, so until then she’s here with me while her parents work. It’s part of my lease agreement with my brother. And I cannot wait until she’s in school lest she runs all my customers off with her mouth!”

He laughed again, taking the paper bag, digging in his pocket for his card. You waved your hand at him. They’re on the house.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, offering you his card anyway. You waved it off, telling him it’s a thank you for being there for you that day the two of you moved out. You were sure things wouldn’t have gone as well if he hadn’t been there.

“I’ll pay you back somehow,” he promised you, putting the card back in his pocket. “Thanks for these Lily, or Beans, apparently?” he looked at you questioningly, a curious smile on his face.

Your phone rang in your office. A story for another day, you told him. He nodded and tipped his proverbial hat at you, thanking you once more before leaving the store. You rushed to answer your phone.

“Hello, this is Officer Matthews calling from the County Medical Center, may I speak to Ms Lily Williams please?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Are you related to a Mr Edward Williams and Mrs Anne Williams?”

Oh God.

“Yes, they’re my brother and sister-in-law.”

“Ms Williams, I’m sorry to inform you…”

The rest of Officer Matthew’s speech was garbled. You were under water. You couldn’t breathe. You dropped to the floor, Frank rushing in, his face panicked, asking you what was going on. Ellie came in after him, her face was the only thing you saw, despite Tess and Frank being right there next to her.

Frank took your phone off your hands, as you pulled Ellie in for a tight hug, hoping that you would soon wake up from this nightmare you were sure you were in.

---

August

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #roommate Joel Miller

47 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Speak 24

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Two in a row?!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The dullness of the home renovation show does little to combat your fatigue. You watch the drilling and trimming and plastering from behind a glossy curtain, yawning and swaying against Andy. You really just want to go lay down but you don't have the courage to insist on it.

Your eyes roll back only for you to snap your head forward, forcing yourself awake. Several times you feel yourself start to slump to one side. You don't know how much longer you can stay awake.

You feel the air in your nose clog and a rumble in your throat. You're too far gone to catch yourself as you succumb to your exhaustion. You sink into the fuzzy abyss, welcoming the rest for your mind and body.

You sleep without thought, without dreams, or worries. The deep blackness that blurs time and space, the very concept of your existence fading into the void. You forget everything for the dulcet comfort of unconsciousness.

You feel something on your arm. A long, soft caress. It's almost soothing, so subtle and gentle that you're not sure it's real. You moan and sniff through your dry nose.

"Amber?" You murmur, "I'll get up in a minute."

The hand squeezes and you curl your shoulders forward. You're too tired. You just want to sleep forever. You murmur as the touch descends to your elbow and the hand slips down to your stomach, spreading there.

It is much too big to be Amber. And why would she be in the bed with you? Against you? You feel the warmth radiating along your back.

You open your eyes as you're drawn into a stolid embrace. You look down and see the freckled arm around you. Oh. What do you do?

You feel his breath behind your ear, fanning up your scalp. You've never been this close to anyone. Especially a man.

"Andy," you squeak. "Andy…" you grab his wrist as your chest squeezes with panic. He needs to let you go!

"Hmph," he grumbles groggily.

You don't care if he's sleeping. He's touching you. He's got you trapped! You don't like this. You need to get away.

You need to sleep on your own. You need space. You need to be alone!

"Andy!" You squeal and dig your nails in as he hugs you tighter, "get off!"

You writhe as your voice piques. You flail as he keeps a hold of you. He shifts but doesn't let you go. You throw your elbow up and twist around, the impact cracking hard as you're released at once.

You hit the floor as Andy grips his cheek and grunts. You gasp as you realise what you've done. Oh no! You never meant to hurt him.

"Ow," he hides his face behind his hand, "dove…"

"I'm s-sorry," you stutter, dizzily getting your feet under you, "I didn't mean to–"

You step forward as he peeks out between his fingers. The hurt in his eyes gives you pause and you wince. Oh god!

"S-s-sorry!" You clap your hands against your cheeks and spin, "I'm sorry! Please! Don't be mad–"

You run without looking, without thinking. You hit the edge of the couch as you race frantically out of the room. You stumble up the stairs, not looking back as you fear he might be after you. That you may have just pushed him too far. But you deserve it, don't you? You hit him first.

You burst into the guest room and scramble to lock the handle. There is no mechanism. Shaky and terrified, you get on the other side of the dresser and push it with your shoulder. It scrapes over the floor until you have it across the door.

You slide down and curl yourself into a ball on the other side, heart beating wildly. No, no, no. Stay out. Stay out!

You can hear his footsteps coming up the stairs and his barely repressed groans. There's a tap on the other side of the door before the handle turns and the dresser lurches but doesn't give. You whimper and cover your head.

You remember the way the chair leg smacked against your head, how the blows came down over and over, on every part of you. You remember how it left your breaths rattly and your bones screaming. You remember how Amber held you and told you it would be okay.

Where is she? You want her there to promise you that you're safe. You left her behind.

"Dove, please, let me in," Andy says from the other side.

You don't say a word. You gulp as tears spring up. You don't want to remember. Stop!

"Dove, please, I'm not mad," there's friction on the door, "let's talk. What happened?"

You shake your head and ball yourself up tighter.

"Why did you hit me?" He lowers his voice.

You let out a sob. You don't know why. You didn't mean to. It never matters what you meant, it only matters that you're wrong.

"Dove," his voice rises again, "you can't just close me out."

You have no answer for him as you tremble in a heap, trapped between the past and present, paralysed for what's to come.

"Aren't you going to apologize?" He scoffs.

You have no words, no strength, you have nothing but fear.

He hits the door and you yelp, "Dove! Answer me." He snarls, "this is my house."

But he touched you. He was touching you! No, how can you be wrong? If he was touching you?

You're confused. It was an accident and yet you feel guilty. But Amber always says you should protect yourself. So why do you feel so rotten?

He huffs and clucks, "I can wait."

You open your eyes and slow drag your arms down, folding them across your chest. You wait and listen. He doesn't retreat right away, no he lurks outside and for a moment you think he's going to stay there until you come out. When at last his footfalls pad away, you're not relieved.

Eventually, you're going to have to leave that room.

🕊️

Eventually comes in the form of your throbbing bladder. You stand at the door, facing the inevitable, dreading the outside. You shift the dresser inch by inch, trying not to make a noise. You move it only enough to fit through the door.

You peek into the hallway and hold your breath. The evening has come and the house is dark. You creep out, hoping you've gone unheard. You've always been good at being unnoticed.

Until Andy.

You tiptoe over the carpet and glance down towards his door. Your chest twinges with guilt. You hope he's okay. You can only feel the force of your elbow hitting him. You can hear the impact repeating in your head.

You quickly flit into the bathroom and shut the door. You flip the lock up and stand in the dim space. You don't bother with the light switch as you do what you need to and turn the faucet on only halfway to wash your hands.

You take a breath as you face the door. Just a few steps across and you can hide away. You ease it open little by little and let it fall ajar as you see the shadow waiting for you outside. Andy reaches over to flip the overhead light on.

You chew your lip as your eyes sparkle with a sudden wash of tears. You teeter on your toes as the white bulb shines through the glass sconce and illuminates the darkening blemish under his right eye. You did that.

"Andy..." you eke out.

He looks at you, tight-lipped, his own eyes glistening. He takes a deep breath that makes his chest rise and fall. His jaw grits and cheek twitches. He puts his hands on his hips.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I told you..." you blubber.

He shows his palm, raising his hand as he drops his chin. A long exhale before he lifts his head again. He lets his shoulders fall.

"We need to talk," he says.

"I... know," you hang your head in defeat.

He gestures down the hall and you offer no resistance. You walk ahead of him, keeping your posture low, wanting to shield your head as you expect the worst. He points you down the stairs and follows your descent.

You enter the dining room at his direction and you sit at the table. He pulls out the chair across from you and lowers himself with a sigh. He pushes his hands up his cheeks and winces, leaning his weight on his elbows against the table.

"You hit me," he says staunchly.

You stare at the table, wilting as you bring your feet up onto the seat and hug your legs. You nod.

"I said sorry--"

"Dove," he intones, "you hurt me. And as much as I want an apology, I want it to mean something. I want you to understand what you're apologising for."

"I am so sorry," you bluster as you snap your head up, "really, Andy. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to. I would never-- I'm not a mean person."

"You didn't mean to but you did."

"I was confused. You were so close and--"

"You fell asleep. I was keeping you from falling off the couch," he hisses.

"Oh, uh, well, I... I didn't realise--"

"You keep making these excuses. I didn't want to... I didn't want to believe it but I spoke with Dr. Kemp while you were... hiding," he rolls his eyes, "and he agrees with me."

"What?" You heave, nearly choking on tears, "about what?"

"About you. About you're behaviour," he puts his hands down, folding them over the table. You watch the effort he puts into his next words, "about Amber. I didn't want to think about it, to possibly admit it but... she isn't the problem, honey."

"What does that mean?" You wipe your nose, "Andy, what are you saying?"

"Look at me, Dove," he leans in, emphasizing the blotch under his eye, "look what you did."

"But-- but--"

"You take. Everything. People around you give and give and give and they get nothing in return. It's exactly what you did to her. Dove, I want you to get help, but you have to realise, you're not a burden, you're a leech."

You lean back, chest heavy as it hollows shakily. You can barely breath. Why is he saying this?

"No, no, I'm not--"

"You are. You're not stupid so give it up. You know exactly what you've been doing," he insists. His tone is even and hard but not angry. "I know you're not stupid because you know how I feel about you. And you push me away and make me feel like the villain. I'm the bad guy because I love you? Because you made me feel something and I let myself feel it--"

"Love? Feel? Wh-what?"

"Stop pretending you don't know," he snaps, "dove, you just keep hurting me. Look at everything I've done for you. Why would I do all of this if I didn't love you?"

"You love me?" You croak.

"I do and look what you did to me," he waves his hand at his face, "you did this but I'm not going to give up on you."

You bury your face in your hands and cry. Every word is like a knife slicing through you. They always say the truth hurts the most.

"Dr. Kemp is going to help you. He's going to help both of us work through this--"

"I don't understand," you say through your fingers.

"I know you don't, so you need to trust me," he reaches across the table as you open your eyes and tear your hands away from your face, "I can forgive you, this one time. And that's because I love you. Because it would hurt more to let you go."

You shake your head and clutch at your hair, "no, no, no... I never... I didn't mean to hurt you..." you babble, "Andy," you gasp and hit the edge of the table with your hands, "do you mean I hurt Amber?"

He looks down and swallows tightly, "honey, you know what you did. You know it. You have to accept it if you're going to change."

You shudder as the world seems to shrink around you. You really are just as bad as you always thought. All those years in your little bubble, with Amber lying to you, telling you that you're not a monster. She took your abuse and you took everything from her. How could you be so horrible and not even know it?

"I... didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. I didn't... mean to," you chant through thick sobs, "no, I didn't mean to..."

"Shhh, dove," he stands and you make yourself even small in the chair.

You wince as he rounds the table and kneels beside you. He hushes you as he touches your arm, rubbing it gently as he coos at you. You quiet to a hiccuping heave and look at him.

"Are you going to try?" He asks.

You nod and gulp loudly.

"That's good, sweetie," he praises and reaches up to caress your cheek, "Dr. Kemp is going to see us tomorrow and we can do this together."

"Us? Both?" You murmur in confusion as he runs his fingers back down your arm and takes your hand.

"Couples therapy," he explains, "we have to work on our communication."

"Couple... what?" You squint at him, lashes fluttering.

"Come on, dove," he stands and pulls you to your feet, "I told you how I feel, are you going to keep hurting me by pretending you don't feel the same?"

Your lip trembles. Do you feel the same? You don't know. You've never really known. You're just afraid and lost and confused. You don't want to be a bad person.

"You feel bad, don't you? For hitting me?" He asks and you nod, a sob wrenching in your chest, "and you feel bad why?"

You search his face, only looking in his eyes for a second before you can stand no more. You look at his neck and the tendons there, the way it bobs nervously, and the tension set into his shoulders. Your lips part and you puff out a shaky breath.

"Because... I love you?" You squeak the uneven statement through your quivering lips.

"You do but and that means it's going to be okay," he draws you into a hug and you don't fight it. You can't fight something you don't understand, "isn't it, dove?"

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #library au #defending jacob #series #don't speak

202 notes · View notes