#barber app

[pealeii]

attend the tale of His Tits

[straightfromdachair]

Modern Sanity & Emotional Intelligence!

In today's discussion, we will define what a hustler is, explore the concept of emotional intelligence, and examine the dynamics of navigating dating apps.

[bricedavismedia]

In today's discussion, we will define what a hustler is, explore the concept of emotional intelligence, and examine the dynamics of navigating dating apps.

[iskedo]

Unavoidable steps to build a landing page that converts

We must have used appointment scheduling applications for some or other services. Some appointment scheduling applications are so appealing and you feel like using the services time and again, being a customer, they leave a long-lasting pleasant impact on our mind, however, some applications are so repelling owing to their terrible page loading speed.  If you are also experiencing an issue with the appointment booking landing page that does not convert and does not give you any business, then this blog will be your guide to creating pages that help you convert and build a better clientele. 

What is the need for an appropriate landing page? 

Creating a landing page that increases appointment bookings and improves customer satisfaction requires a strategic approach. A well-designed landing page not only makes the scheduling process easier but also motivates potential customers to take action. 

Businesses can streamline their booking process while driving higher engagement and conversions by focusing on user experience, clear messaging, and compelling calls to action. Important components like intuitive form design, strong visuals, and trust signals are crucial in guiding users through the decision-making process. 

Businesses may satisfy tech-savvy clients who prefer online booking by providing a straightforward, user-friendly interface that guarantees round-the-clock accessibility. An optimized booking page is also a crucial tool for companies in the healthcare, salon, fitness, and professional services sectors as it may boost conversions, lower no-show rates, and improve overall efficiency. 

What are the steps of creating a landing page? 

Selecting an appropriate platform for your landing page for scheduling appointments is essential to guaranteeing a smooth user experience and effective business processes. Simple connectivity with your current website and other tools, such as calendars, payment processors, and customer management systems, should be a feature of the perfect platform. Additionally, it should offer editable templates so you can create a page that fits your demands and complements your brand. Scalability, user-friendliness for staff and customers, and responsiveness on mobile devices are important factors to take into account. To safeguard customer information and lower the number of no-shows, the platform should also have strong security features. You may build a simple, efficient booking system that raises client happiness and boosts overall productivity by choosing the appropriate platform. 

Employ Eye-Catching Visuals and Design 

Make sure the page has a pleasing appearance without being too busy. Employ top-notch photos or videos that are pertinent to your company, such as official team headshots, workspace photos, or footage of your goods or services in use. It is a psychological fact that something that appeals to your eyes appeals to your mind. It leaves a more lasting impact. 

Emphasize the Main Advantages 

Make it obvious to users why they should schedule an appointment with you. Enumerate the main advantages they will experience (for example, free initial visits, professional advice, flexible scheduling, etc.). Use bullet points to make text easy to read. It should tempt users and attract them. 

Include Powerful Calls to Action (CTAs) 

Make use of strong, call-to-action CTAs such as “Make an appointment,” “Book Now,” “Get Started”, or “Book an Appointment” To encourage users to make a reservation, place them prominently above the fold and throughout the page. CTAs are the most important. Most of the pages fail to make conversion owing to the missing CTA’s 

Make the Booking Process Simpler 

Frankly speaking, nobody likes to fill a long form as it takes too much time and is also a monotonous process. Make the appointment form brief and simple to complete. Ask simply for the necessary details (name, contact information, preferred time and date). Make use of an easy-to-use date selector and think about including several ways to get in touch, such as phone and email. 

Add social proof and trust signals

Include endorsements, customer feedback, or rankings to foster confidence. To convince users of your authenticity and experience, include credentials, industry awards, or partner logos. 

Make It Mobile-Friendly 

Make sure that the landing page functions flawlessly on tablets and smartphones. Bookings will be made by many people while they are on the go, so a flawless mobile experience is crucial. 

Utilize Analytics to Monitor Conversions 

Install analytics software to monitor user behavior and gauge how successful your landing page is (such as Google Analytics or Hotjar). Over time, use this data to improve your messaging and design. 

Include options for customer service or live chat

Customers feel motivated to initiate chat and feel free to contact you if you offer them customer service and options like live chat. Before a visitor makes a reservation, offer live chat or chatbot options to address any urgent questions they might have. By doing so, barriers may be removed, and users can be guided through the booking process. 

Continuous Testing and Optimization 

If you are willing to provide best results then continuous testing and optimization is required. Test different aspects like headlines, CTAs, graphics, and form designs using A/B testing. To increase conversion rates over time, make ongoing adjustments and optimizations to the page based on data insights. 

To sum up, several important components need to be properly taken into account when designing a landing page that converts. Every element—from determining your target audience and crafting a compelling headline to expediting the booking process and optimizing your website for mobile devices—is essential to motivating visitors to take action. Companies can employ calls-to-action that are strong, trust signals, and ongoing testing and optimization to ensure a higher conversion rate and better user experience. When these steps are taken, a powerful landing page for making appointments is created that boosts interaction, builds trust, and turns leads into loyal customers. ISKEDO is an exemplary appointment scheduling app that has won an array of customers who are satisfied with the app features and find the app satisfactory from various perspectives. If you are into a Gym business, running a salon a parlor, or a nail art studio, you can successfully use ISKEDO and get the best results ever.   

[phagodyke]

man I fucking love assembling flatpack furniture

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hello nightmare- choke me with your tie please

That Night

Warnings - noncon, bj, threats, and dark behaviour.

Please leave feedback and reblog!

The door clicks and you swallow your yawn. You were just about to nod off before the noise puts you on edge. You already know it's just Andy but he makes you nervous just on his own.

You crane to see him over the back of the couch as he peeks through the archway. You keep your voice low, "Hello, Mr. Barber."

He nods his head and gives a half-wave. He backs out of site and there's rustling and scuffing as he leaves his things by the door. Mr. Barber is like that; quiet but seemingly judging everything and everyone.

He comes in, walking softly, and peeks over the sofa cushions.

"He asleep?" He asks as he peers down at the little boy against your hip, slumped into your lap.

"Fell asleep twenty minutes in," you smile.

He nods. Mr. Barber is hard to read. Strict. You feel so small whenever he looks at you. Not just physically, but in every other way. He's your boss. He pays you for watching his son and you scrape the hourly toll up to pay rent. Next to your two other jobs, it gets you by.

"Let me get him," he comes around and scoops up Caleb. You cautiously stand as he does. He stays close, "why don't you wait here? I'll call you a cab." His blue eyes list away, "sorry I'm late."

"All good," you put your palms up appeasingly. "Thank you."

He dips his chin again and steps away. You listen to his footfalls as you sit back down. This time you can't bring yourself to lean back. You grab the remote and shut off the TV. You teeter on the edge and tap your toes anxiously.

Maybe you should tell him you're fine catching the bus. You feel bad and you don't need the taxi fare adding to your expenses. You think of it but can't bring yourself to get up. You still feel like everything you do is an imposition. He's paying you to be there yet you feel as if you're intruding.

You exhale and roll your shoulders. You sidle back on the cushion. You'll wait until he has Caleb in bed before you both.

You check your phone. The bus won't be too much longer. You flip through a few apps then set it aside. You rub your eyes then tilt your head back on your neck. As you do, you feel something tickle your nose and chin.

You wince and put your head straight. Pressure tightens around your neck, drawing firm from behind. You touch the fabric against your throat and squeak. What the heck?

"Shhh," the hush crawls along your hair.

You look up as Mr. Barber leans over you with a smirk. You gulp and curl your fingers under the silk. He tugs until your airway clogs.

"Put your hand down," he says.

You bat your lashes at him, eyes straining as you tilt your head back further to see him. He tisks and taps your crown.

"Let go."

You put your head straight and drop your head, confusion pulsing through your veins. He slowly comes around, extending his arm as he keeps you at length, like a dog on a leash. You frown as you notice his loose collar, his tie knotted around your neck.

"Mr. Barber, are you playing around?" You ask.

"Playing..." he tugs and you slide forward. "With you."

You grip the tie as the knot gets tighter. He yanks again and you clamour to your feet. He catches your chin as his other hand winds up the tail of the tie.

"Stop touching. You're breaking the rules."

"Mr. Barber--"

"Ah, ah, no talking," he drags his finger up to your lips. "You don't want to wake our son."

Your blood turns cold. You search his face in horror. What does he mean?

"Are you alr--"

He tugs and you cough. He growls and shakes his head.

"I'll be nice if you behave," he grits.

You blink as hot tears rise along your lashes. Why is he doing this?

"You're a good girl, aren't you? I know you are. You never complain... even when I can see you want to. You wait around even when I'm late," he leads you around with the tie as he drops his other hand. "You take care of our boy and... you obey."

You shudder as you let him guide you. You don't know what else to do. You're entirely thrown off by the suddenness of it all. And you're scared. It's like he said... he'll be nice, but he could be mean.

"It's been a long day, honey," he brings you around the couch and through the archway. "I'm just going to do some reading, settle into bed."

He takes you up the stairs, one by one, a smug curve in his lips. You can hardly look at him. You're horrified. You're just letting him do all this. You could scream. You should.

He brings you down the hall and your feet slip on the hardwood. You don't go in his room. Not ever. That's what he told you not to do.

He opens the door and draws you inside. Your eyes skim the space. It all looks very normal.

He leads you to the bed and sits you down. He urges you onto your back, high up on the pillow and loops the tie around the post. Your body locks up as you stare at him.

He moves around the room, undressing as his shadow paints the wall. He comes to the other side and slides onto the mattress. The friction of pages scratches in your ears as the bed jostles. He reaches over and pets your head. He follows the length of the tie and unhooks it.

He tugs you over to him. You turn on your side to keep from choking. He has the book over his naked lap. You blanch at the shameless sight.

"I worked so hard, honey, don't you wanna help daddy relax," he purrs.

You pull, just a little on the tie and he snarls, yanking you so his tip hits your nose. He's hard and wanting. You're scared.

"What did I say about being nice?" He sneers. "So open up and be a good girl."

Your eyes sting. You need the money. You need the money. It's just this one time, right? He's just... being weird and tomorrow, you can forget.

You open your mouth and circle his tip. It's salty. You close your eyes and urge yourself down until you can't take anymore. He sighs and you feel him relax. He rests his hand on your head and raises the book with his other.

"That's it, honey," he clutches your hair and pulls you up, "I needed this."

He pushes you down again and you nearly gag. He leads you in a rhythym, up, down, up, down. You're dizzy and not just from the bobbing of your head. You're mind is spinning at how it all came to this.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Weekend Loving

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader

Word Count: 1500

Summary: The perfect way to combat a cold rainy weekend in autumn is by cuddling and keeping warm together.

Warnings: Fluff, Cuddles, Oral (Fem), Smut, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Cursing, Andy’s beard is a warning, Quote: “If you only knew the things I want to do to you" & Prompts - cuddling in front of a fire & cuddling on the couch during a cold rainy day.

A/N 1: thank you to @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo for beta reading this. Also thank you to @firefly-graphics for the divider.

A/N 2: This is for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork & @yenzys-lucky-charm autumn writing challenge.

Reblogs & Comments are welcomed and encouraged. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

It was a cold rainy day in autumn and you were thankful it was the weekend. Both you and Andy had today off which meant one thing cuddling on the couch with a fire going. The fireplace in the living room was currently warming the room thanks to Andy’s quick thinking of trying to get you warm fast. You watched the rain pour down against the colorful shades of leaves on the trees. Autumn has to be your favorite time of the year. 

You wore leggings, fluffy warm socks, and a long-sleeved shirt. Andy came down the stairs dressed in his gray sweatpants and henley. He was built with broad shoulders and a trim waist. His eyes were cerulean blue and his amazing beard made you clench your thighs together.

You were on the couch with a large blanket covering you. It was big enough to cover the both of you while cuddling. Of course, if you had it your way you would wrap yourself like a burrito in the blanket and not share with Andy. 

Andy loved weekends like this where you could spend quality time with one another and relax after a long week at work. Whether cuddling under the blankets or spending time between your legs Andy always considered himself a lucky man. 

After a few minutes, Andy came shuffling into the living room ready to get warmed up. He kissed your forehead and made his way under the blanket. As he gets settled, you whine as he stretches out behind you. Bringing your body against his chest.

“Mmmm… you're so warm, babe.” You try to cuddle closer, your butt rubbing against his crotch causing him to groan into your neck. 

“Keep doing that and you’ll be in trouble, Mrs. Barber.” He seductively whispers against your neck, stealing a light kiss while his beard scrapes against your skin.

“Trouble is my middle name, Mr. Barber.” You rub up against him again but this time you can feel his erection. He lets out another groan as he adjusts his sweatpants. You turn to face him as your hands roam down his chest to his sweatpants.

“If you only knew the things I want to do to you, sweetheart right here on the couch.” 

“Enlighten me.” You whisper against his lips before you give him a quick kiss. 

He grabs your hips and does a dirty grind against you. Pushing you onto your back he climbs on top of you keeling between your spread legs. He pushed the blanket briefly off the both of you and pulled your leggings and underwear off. You squealed by the roughness of his hands on you but you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Andy then pulls you into a sitting position and peels your long-sleeved shirt off. You shiver from how cold you feel but instantly warm as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. Every nibble and soft bite has you gasping in pleasure. Andy pulls away with a pop and uses his fingers to roll your nipples. You start to let out little gasps and he stops abruptly making you whine.

Andy stands and pulls the henley off revealing his body you swore was sculpted by the gods themselves. Seconds later he pushed his sweatpants and boxer briefs down his legs revealing his hard, thick cock. He smiles down at you as you stare at him, taking in his nakedness. Grabbing the blanket he covers you both up as he kisses his way down toward your wet pussy. Reaching his destination he kisses your inner thighs and rubs his beard against your core. The roughness from his beard has you whimpering until you feel his tongue lick a stripe through your folds.

“Fuck, Andy!” You moan out as you feel another pass of his tongue. Your hands grip the blanket tightly as he makes another pass through your folds. 

Andy buries his face in your pussy, licking and gently suckling your clit. Your breathing hitches every time he plays with your clit. The more he takes you apart the louder your moans get. You feel Andy’s fingers run through your petals getting arousal all over them. He pulls back his face for a minute and slips his fingers inside of you. His mouth is now focused on your clit as he swirls his tongue around it and gently plays with it. You can feel yourself getting closer to your release the faster his fingers work you. Making a come hither motion sets you off as you cum screaming his name from the pleasure he just brought you. As your body twitches from the aftershocks of your orgasm, Andy climbs back up to your face and kisses you. You can taste your release on his lips and tongue. 

Your tongues dance together in a sensual kiss, both fighting for dominance but it is Andy that is taking over. His kiss is passionate and he groans against your lips while he grinds his hard cock against your wet pussy. You wrap your legs around his hips and roll your hips against him. God did he feel amazing against you. Before you can do anything else Andy sits back on his legs as he forcefully turns you over onto your stomach. Lifting your hips for him Andy runs his hand over your butt and smacks it causing you to mewl. Grabbing his cock he strokes himself a few times before he sinks into your cunt. The thickness of his cock stretches you in all the right ways as he slowly starts to thrust into you.

“Oh…my… feels so good baby.” Your hands are holding onto the cushion below you as Andy slowly takes you apart. 

Andy picks his pace up and starts to piston his hips into you over and over again. Skin slapping against skin fills the room while the fireplace continues to keep you both warm. He continues to thrust into you harder and faster as you moan his name to the heavens above. Now and then he slaps your ass causing you to push back into him hard. Andy can’t help but groan as he feels your walls flutter against his cock. He loves the way you feel around him and taking you like this sends a primal groan through him. 

“Fuck…baby…fuck…. Take my big cock.” He groans out as you squeal with every piston of his hips. 

Your hand moves to your clit and starts to rub it to the pace of Andy snapping his hips. His thick cock plunged into you so hard you swore you could see stars. You’re a mess, a moaning fucking mess for him. You feel like you’re going to cum any minute now. 

Harder and faster Andy snaps his hips against you. Just as he feels you start to flutter against him again he pulls out of you and then rolls you to your back again. Before you can say anything he grabs your legs, throwing them over his shoulders and sinking back into you.

“Andy. I’m so close…” You rake your nails down his chest causing him to groan out. His hips are starting to falter at the pace he is keeping up. Your walls start to flutter and tense around him again as you chase your high. 

With a swipe of his right thumb against your clit you are moaning his name again as you finally fall off the edge into eternal bliss. Andy feels your walls grip him tightly as he now chases his high. A few hard thrusts and he is cumming deep inside you. He groans your name a few times before he finally is spent.  He gently moves your legs back to the couch and all but collapses on you. His forearms are keeping him from crushing you under his weight. You smile up at him with a blissed-out grin and he leans down to kiss your lips. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you too Andy. With all my heart.”

Andy gently pulls out of you and goes to the bathroom to clean himself off. Once done he brings back a wet washcloth and cleans you as well. He throws the washcloth into the washer and comes back over to the couch. Grabbing the blanket he lays beside you on the couch and holds you close to him again. With the fire still roaring to life you sigh as you are now warm from both the fireplace and Andy taking you apart.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” you whisper to him as you begin to yawn. 

“Forever my love, forever you and I,” he whispers back. 

Andy kisses your head and snuggles closer to you. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have these moments with you. Thanking the lucky stars above he cuddles you close as the rain continues to pitter-patter on the windows. It may be cold outside but it is warm inside their home. 

Taglist:

@americasass81

@astheskycries

@awesomerextyphoon

@awkwardgiraffe726

@caffiend-queen

@caplanbuckybarnes

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

@georgiapeach30513

@get0verit

@hollybee8917

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jtargaryen18

@jvanilly

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mdemontespan1667

@missvelvetsstuff

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@noellez-best-life23

@notyourtypicalrose

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@sarahowritesostucky

@shadowrose13-blog1

@spectre-posts

@sarahowritesostucky

@steviebbboi

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@talia-rumlow

@thefallenbibliophilequote

@what-is-your-plan-today

@wolfsmom1

@cevansbaby-dove

@mrsnikstan

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@yenzys-lucky-charm

[krirebr]

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

[universefcb]

◎﹒⚽ . ❛ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒 ❜ ━━━ He's my ideal type and I can't do anything about it.😭

◎﹒⚽ . ❛❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜❜ ━━━ English is not my first language, sorry if there is a mistake!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜ ━━━ Your comment and like are very important, don't be a ghost reader!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜ ━━━ Hector is my second boyfriend, as Pau is my first!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜❜ ━━━ 792 Of words

You let go of Hector's hand and sat down on the salon's leather couch. You watched him greet the barber who was a friend of both of yours and sit down in the chair.

“What is your mistress sending today?” He asked in an amused tone.

“The usual,” she said with a smile, looking at her boyfriend in the mirror. Hector winked at her and picked up his phone, starting to scroll through social media.

The man started working on Hector's hair and s/n just watched. After a few minutes, she opened the camera and raised her cell phone. Hector noticed, made a face for the photo and you laughed as you analyzed it.

“Did I look ugly?” His voice sounded calm.

“You never look ugly,” she said calmly, making him blush and the barber laugh.

“Yeah bro, you’re really on a leash.” Hector laughed proudly, watching his girlfriend in the mirror. The one who was playing with her cell phone, all smiles.

He felt his phone vibrate and picked it up, seeing that it was an Instagram notification. He opened the app and his smile grew wider when he saw the post she had made on her stories. The photo she had posted. He laughed and reposted it, telling her how much he loved her.

After a few long minutes, he got up from the chair and looked at the haircut in the mirror. He smiled and turned to his friend, thanking him and paying him. He walked over to his girlfriend and took her hand, saying goodbye and leaving.

“You look so handsome!” He showered her with kisses as they got into the boy’s car. “You look so hot with your hair cut, damn, I’d put you in a painting and put it in the best gallery there is here in Barcelona!

This made him blush slightly and laugh at all the compliments he was getting from his girlfriend. His large hands went straight to her thigh, squeezing it lightly.

“Mi gatita,” he paused only to place kisses on her neck “I love it when you compliment me, I feel like the most badass man in the universe.”

“You are!” She ran her hand down his torso until it rested on his legs. “And you are mine alone.”

His tone came out jealous and a little possessive, he chuckled and pulled you in for a quick kiss. You settled into the passenger seat and put on your seatbelt.

“I love you so much,” she felt his finger move on her thigh, leaving a light caress there. “Never forget that, my baby.

He planted kisses on her cheek, and started the car, driving down the street, until he arrived at Lamine Yamal's house.

As soon as you got out of the car, he held your hand gently and you entered the boy's house, who was already waiting in the playroom with Cubarsí. You greeted the boys and sat on the royal blue pouf next to the sofa where the boys – now with Hector – were.

“Wow, our boy got a haircut!” Yamal shouted as he took a closer look at Hector.

“What happened? You never cut your hair in small intervals…” Pau laughed just connecting everything.

“You’re really on s/n’s leash” Lamine laughed along with Cubarsí and you followed suit.

“I am, and I’m very proud of it.” He reached out, leaving a kiss on their lips, drawing sounds and grimaces from his friends.

“The guest room is available, don’t do indecent things in front of us.” He scoffed as he turned his attention back to the game.

“I don’t want to be an uncle at eighteen,” Pau Cubarsí said smilingly.

“Be quiet!” Hector muttered in embarrassment, giving his friends the finger. “Get out of here, I want to play.”

He pushed Yamal, taking the controller from his hand. “I’m going to crush you, chubby,” Hector said, and received a light slap from Cubarsí as a gift.

“If I win, your girlfriend is mine,” he said and Hector paused for a few seconds.

“You really need a haircut.” Lamine tried to lighten the mood. Viu laughed happily when he saw his boyfriend’s serious expression.

Cubarsí always made jokes like that, and you liked to see Dr. Hector's astonished expression, but this time he was serious. And seeing that you laughed, without feeling uncomfortable with Pau's joke, he smiled at hearing your laughter.

“He’s just joking, love,” you said smiling.

“I think it’s good, otherwise I would break his teeth,” he said as his fingers moved the video game controller, while his little doll ran quickly, dodging obstacles.

“I still like my teeth in my mouth, please.” the boy said, making everyone laugh.

“Then shut up, you idiot.” Lamine threw a pillow at him.

"Never!"

And the night went on like this. Teasing, cool games and a table full of pizza and soda (healthy goods for players) and lots and lots of laughter.

[youthereader]

Andy bends you over his desk.

pairing: andy barber (defending jacob) x assistant fem!reader

summary: 1.9k words. andy reprimands you for wearing an inappropriate skirt at work.

rating: e; smut, barebacking, semi-public sex, some praise kink, boss-employee relationship, spanking

a/n: not the usual here but this idea got the best of me.

You consider your working relationship with Andy to be a friendly one. You talk about the weather, some sports, a restaurant opening in town. It’s light and fun and it’s probably the best job you’ve ever had, being his assistant.

Because of this, you care a lot about him on a deeper level, too, and it probably crosses into unprofessionalism, but it doesn’t hurt anyone since nobody knows you��re harboring a huge crush on him. And it makes sense! He’s so handsome, and so smart without being condescending, something you’re not used to. Your Hinge dates are downright depressing at times because you keep comparing everyone of them to your boss. You think to yourself, why can’t they be more like Andy?

It's only natural to daydream about him taking you out instead of those disappointing guys, and it’s harmless fun. There was the one time he caught you looking at him when you sat by his side in a meeting, your pen poised to take notes, and he winked at you. It made you feel all warm and giggly, your cheeks flushing as you pressed your lips together to smother your mirth.

You start buying new clothes, justifying them as work purchases, knowing you’re picking things you hope Andy will appreciate. The most daring is a short leather skirt with a slit that comes up mid-thigh, and you specifically choose to wear it on a day you know Andy plans to dedicate to being in the office, his paperwork having got away from him. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to grab his attention, and then you’ll open your app at the end of the day to find someone more realistic, more tangible, and then ride the high of confidence into the weekend. It’s a win-win situation.

You rise from your desk as he walks in, greeting him with coffee, and his eyes drop immediately to your legs when he picks up his Styrofoam cup. He blinks twice, his response delayed.

“Good morning.”

He glances at his watch, muttering a curse word before he departs. It’s not what you hoped for, but it’s not nothing, either. You get back to your computer and answer the phone. Andy doesn’t leave for a couple hours and when he reappears, he’s on his cell phone, distracted, barely looking at you.

Maybe he’s not a leg guy? Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re cute?

You try not to feel let down by this, plodding along, until he comes back a bit before noon, your eyes meeting as he passes through.

“Any messages?”

“Yes,” you reply, retrieving your notepad. “I told them you’d call them back. Also, your dentist keeps playing phone tag-”

He lets out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Uh, yeah. Please call Dr. Fisher back and apologize to her. I’m sure she’ll have a lot to say when I finally see her.”

“Plaque not top of your priorities?” you tease, sinking back into your chair, swivelling in it to face your monitor once more.

You catch his eyes following your movements, and you’re suddenly far more aware of your skin. You pick up the phone receiver.

“Just call her back, please,” he says, not matching your tone.

He sounds almost impatient with you, which has never happened before. You nod, going quiet. You do as you’re told, and the receptionist sighs on the other end of the line, rescheduling for you yet again.

“There’s a cancellation fee.”

“Yes, he is aware,” you reply. “And he sends his apologies.”

“Tell him it’s not good enough.”

You won’t do any such thing; he’d fire you for sticking your nose in his business like that. Frankly, it’s not up to anyone to pass judgement on Andy, knowing what he’d been through in the past few years. If his working life took over everything for him to cope with all the rest, that makes a lot of sense to you.

“Uh-huh.”

When you hang up, you sigh, glancing at the calendar. He doesn’t have many spaces for anything other than meetings. You hope he has some time for himself, even if it’s just a couple hours a day. You remind yourself it’s outside of your control, and more importantly, not relevant to you.

The phone rings and you glance at the digital display, seeing it’s Andy. You pick up.

“Yes?”

“I need to speak to you before you go to lunch.”

“Sure,” you reply, and you hang up, stomach suddenly full of knots.

With how he snapped at you earlier, you mind goes straight to the worst possible outcome – dismissal. It seems a little extreme, but he’s never been so… mean to you. But maybe you’re being paranoid, or maybe… maybe you’re being sensitive, and he didn’t snap at all. Still, he wasn’t warm as he usually was when he saw you. You thought he liked having you as his assistant.

You walk over to his door, wiping your sweaty hands on your skirt before opening it and slipping inside. Your head turned to shut it, you hear him say:

“Please lock that.”

You oblige, and then glance over to his desk, seeing him resting on the edge of it, arms crossed. His jaw tenses, his eyes falling to your skirt.

“What did you need, sir?” you ask, placing your hands behind your back.

“We’ve got an issue,” he says.

You swallow. “Oh? What’s happened?”

Sometimes a client is pricklier than others. Or something high profile comes through the firm and you have to be aware of press sniffing around. You don’t expect what comes out of Andy’s mouth next.

“It’s your skirt.”

“Oh, God,” you say, and you flush. “Yeah… it’s a little much. I’m sorry—”

He puts up a hand, but you keep going.

“I can go home and change, now, on my break. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No, that won’t do.”

Your heart sinks. He’s going to fire you over your outfit? That has to be discrimination. You gape.

“Andy…”

He pushes off his desk and you freeze. Andy strides right up to you and takes hold of your chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes boring into yours.

“You think you can wear something like that and there not be any consequences? I can practically see up your skirt.”

You can’t speak. Your heart hammers, her whole face and neck burning with shame.

He moves forward, hips on yours and you stumble backwards, his other hand grabbing your hip to steady you. Underneath the fear and humiliation, you know he’s getting you wet by touching you like this, as if he’s entitled to do so.

His thigh fits between your knees and he searches your face, eyes narrowing.

“Well? What have you got to say for yourself? You got my attention. Is that what you wanted?”

“I…” You gape some more, useless. “I-I did want that. I wanted you to look at me. But it’s not appropriate, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s really not.”

He kisses you, hard, open-mouthed and hungry. You gasp, his tongue pressing into your mouth to tangle with yours. Your hands grip his shirt sleeves and you close your eyes, kissing him back, riding the wave. He still holds your face, but by your jaw, his lips moving down to kiss your neck, his short beard grazing your skin.

“Andy…”

You moan his name and he chuckles, pressing his hard-on against your thigh. He’s huge. You’d bet your life on that. His hands rove your body, squeezing your tits, your hips, your ass… you whimper as he sucks at your skin, grinding against you.

“Come here.”

You obey, tugged along to the desk. He pushes you in front of him, bending you at the waist.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you look over your shoulder at him, watching as he stares at your ass in the leather skirt.

He pushes it up, hand coming down with a sharp slap to your right ass cheek. Of course, you couldn’t just wear any underwear with this skirt – your thong is all that covers you there, and he grabs it, tugging it tight.

“Fuck…”

“Andy,” you say, and he looks at you, chest giving a heave.

“Can’t wander around in that tiny black skirt and then act surprised when I want to fuck you-”

You bite your lip, canting your hips at his words, your ass lifting. He spanks you again, and you hope no-one hears that, the two slaps, or your bitten off moans.

He glances down. “Spread your legs. Fuck… you’re so wet.”

He undoes his belt, then his fly, taking out his cock. He tugs on himself as you anticipate the stretch of him. You nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy.”

He takes hold of you by the neck, angling you for a filthy kiss, his other hand petting your behind, before slipping down between your cheeks to glide through your wetness. You moan into his mouth, his fingers spreading your arousal around, teasing your clit for a steady minute, and you’re whimpering for him.

“Did you wear this just for me?” he whispers, and you nod. He rocks his cock up against you. “Does that mean this is all mine now?”

He means your cunt. He plays with your clit, dips his fingers into you, riling you up. These are the consequences he was talking about.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “It’s all yours.”

He fills you and you both gasp. He holds your shoulder, letting you fall forward onto his desk, rocking back and forth in shallow thrusts. The stretch makes you tremble, slick with want. Your nails scratch at the heavy wood when he picks up speed, hips hitting your ass, your thong stretched to the side.

You don’t know how much you can take, your feet lifting out of your shoes so you stand on tiptoes as he drives into you. All you can feel is how he stretches you to perfection, your mouth drooling from pleasure.

“Oh, fuck…”

Your thong snaps as his hands take hold of your hips, and he utterly wrecks you, skin slapping together as the world slips away. How are you meant to walk after this? Hang on – how are you meant to look Andy in the eye after this?

“Andy, Andy, Andy…”

You’re so close, you just need that little something, and you tense up, trying to muffle your moans in your arms… then you feel him find your clit again and rub, and you think you might burst into tears.

Your orgasm slams into you and your vision whitens, clenching around him as he fucks you through it.

“Good girl, that’s what I wanted,” he pants. “That’s what I wanted to feel.”

You feel something wet down your thighs and you realize you’ve squirted a little at the same time Andy does, and he huffs, close to the edge.

“Jesus, where have you been hiding?”

“Nowhere, I was at my desk,” you slur, and he laughs, breathless.

“You’re like a dream,” he praises, and then goes still, emptying into you. “So… fucking… cute.”

He sighs, hands coming up to pull you back, your next kisses more tender but still messy, the room reeking of sex now. You think of the carpets, the possible stains.

He keeps kissing you, stroking your cheek with his sweaty hand.

“After we clean up, do you wanna get some lunch together?” he whispers, and you nod, smiling lazily.

“I think we’re way past that, sir.”

His eyes sparkle with an unexpected fondness, before he kisses you again.

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you liked it. ❤️

[learning-russian0]

15 Ways to Say "Hi" Informally in Russian (with Meaning)

Как неформально сказать "Привет" по-русски?

Здорово! (ZdorOvo!) Literally means "Healthy!" but is used as a greeting similar to "How are you?" or "Sup?". Very casual.

Хай! (Hai!) A Russian adaptation of the English "Hi!" Used mostly among younger people.

Как дела? (Kak delA?) Means "How’s it going?" Often used as both a greeting and a conversation starter.

Чё как? (Chyo kak?) A very informal version of "What's up?" Can sound a bit slangy depending on the tone.

Приветик! / Приветики! (PrivyEtik! / PrivyEtiki!) Diminutive, playful variations of "Hi!" that sound super friendly and affectionate. These variants are common among close friends, couples, or in lighthearted, informal conversations. Adding "-ик/-ики" creates a cuter or more fun vibe.

Салют! (SalyUt!) Borrowed from the French word "salut", it means "Hi!" Used in an easy-going, cheerful way.

Йо! (Yo!) Equivalent to the English "Yo!" Very casual and often associated with youth or street culture.

Дарова! (DarOva!) A super-slangy and shortened form of "Zdorovo." Very informal and sometimes regional.

Шо как? (Sho kak?) A mix of slang and a phrase heard in southern regions of Russia. Like "What's up?"

Аллоха! (AllOkha!) A playful and fun greeting inspired by "Aloha" (Hawaiian "hello"). Often used humorously or to emphasize a relaxed vibe.

Прив! (Priv!) An ultra-short version of "Privyet" used in texting or casual apps.

Как потеешь? (Kak poteEsh?) "How are you sweating?" — but in practice, it's a playful, ironic, and super-casual way to ask “How’s life?” or “What’s up?” Often used jokingly among close friends in informal conversations. Be careful though—this is strictly informal!

Сколько лет, сколько зим! (SkOl'ko let, skOl'ko zim!) "How many summers, how many winters!" A colorful way to say "Long time no see!" It's usually said when meeting someone after a long time. Conveys surprise and joy.

Какие люди и без охраны! (KakIe lyUdi i bez okhrAny!) "What people, and without security!" This one is overly dramatic and humorous, joking as if the person is extremely important or famous. Commonly used to express playful surprise or joy when bumping into a friend.

Наше Вам с кисточкой! (NAshe vam s kIstochkoy!) "Our regards to you—with a paintbrush!" A quirky, old-school phrase that's a playful way to say hello.It originated from street barbers in old Moscow who would call out:"Our regards to you—with a paintbrush, with a finger nine, with a cucumber fifteen!"This referred to how they’d pull the customer's cheek taut during a shave: With fingers (costing nine coins), or with a cucumber (costing fifteen coins for the more "luxurious" option!).

«Наше вам с кисточкой, с пальцем – десять, с огурцом – пятнадцать!» А вот и пояснение из уст брадобрея: «– Извиняюсь, вы не любите, когда берут за кончик носа? Есть которые это просят. Я учился в Курске, наш мастер работал по старинке, – засовывал палец в рот клиенту, а для благородных держал огурцы. С пальцем – десять, с огурцом – пятнадцать, – неплохие были деньги», – ("Хождение по мукам," А.Н. Толстой)

Reminder:

These greetings are best suited for informal or friendly settings. In formal or professional environments, use the more polite greeting "Здравствуйте" (Zdravstvuyte).

Using a casual greeting in a formal situation could come across as rude!

[thsolarsystem]

first time posting art on this app, wow! and for my lackadaisy oc, no less ^_^"

anyway, this is vera! sorry these sketches are so messy, but i'm not about to clean them up, lmao. she's somewhat inspired by my cat pumpkin!

she works as a barber, and is a frequent customer at the lackadaisy. i imagine her as a good guy generally, helping out the lackadaisy crew however she can, but i also have a a more villainous version of her in my head, where she has some sinister agenda of her own. it's mostly an excuse for me to draw her with guns, lol. i don't have much art of her saved, but here's a vampy drawing i made of her for halloween!

that's all i really have for her, outside of a little fic where she meets mordecai as a child and they befriend each other in the following years. i think mordecai needs a good friend in his life, and by god am i going to give him one‼️

i love doing art trades and lackadaisy has been on my brain chronically, so if anyone's interested, please lmk! i would love to draw someone's oc :3

-🦇

[lowkeyrobin]

stanley barber x reader hcs ?

- 🗡️

ooo okay I can try!! ; thanks for requesting pookie, hope u enjoy!!

STANLEY BARBER ; dating hcs

summary ; dating hcs w stan

warnings ; language

word count ; 457

masterlist

he's a pothead so he will be sharing his weed with you

if you don't smoke / aren't into all that, he completely respects it and your boundaries

sometimes he lights a blunt in the car and totally forgets if you don't like him smoking around you and apologizes profusely

like he throws that shit out SO fast

he once accidentally lit a garbage can on fire doing that

but he's genuinely the sweetest ever

he struggles with some social cues and his awkwardness, but you love him just the same <3

when his dad's home, you mentally prepare yourself for vent texts and frantic calls

you're just happy he feels safe enough to tell you things and ask for your help

you usually hang out at his house unless his dad is there, then you're at your house or out on adventures / in the car

he rambles to Syd about you 24/7

it's annoying

he's actually thinking about you constantly

like he's hyperfixated

he probably has adhd so I wouldn't be surprised

he tried to act cool and nonchalant before you were dating but you and Syd always gave him the "wtf" look when he acted like that

cue falling things bc he can't stop running into shit

he did have the courage to actually ask you out though, so one point for him

he was actually gonna ask Syd to ask you out for him like this is fifth grade

goodnight

he allows you to borrow shirts and jackets but he usually wants them back

you make kandi bracelets together tho :))

he's a physical touch and quality time kinda guy so he loves cuddling and just doing stuff with you

he will spam text you if you're not in school and update you through his day

he was lowkey terrified to let you in bc his parents and stuff but you made him realize that not all love hurts 💔

when is he not listening to music

unless the teacher is a bitch, he has headphones on in class

obviously loves bloodwitch but not really his top favorite ever

he also likes that one song (watermelon) from dinner in america, green day, a bit of nirvana, calpurnia, sadcult, sunrise academy, etc

he's got at least 2k+ mins a week on airbuds

he helps you with homework a lot

hes just the type to grasp onto things easier

he's also the type to go to all your classes and pick up any missing work for you when you're out of school

you help each other make outfits for the day over Snapchat

literally the only time you use that app

otherwise you talk on messages

roblox with him is the funniest shit ever 💀

[iskedo]

Yoga Trainers Scheduling Software

Iskedo Yoga Trainers Scheduling Software is a platform designed to help yoga studios and trainers manage class schedules, bookings, and client interactions efficiently. It streamlines operations with features like automated reminders, payment processing, and attendance tracking.

[biteofcherry]

hello! advanced happy new year to you! 🎉 for the new year's eve babe lottery may I have one (1) Mr. Ari Levinson, please? thank you so much I hope you have a nice home celebration and a fruitful year ahead! 🩷

[@still-scribblin - don't mind me! just tagging my writing sideblog hehe]

✨✨✨

That's it. You were going to do it. Totally.

You gulped down the flute of sparkling wine then promptly refilled it.

Usually, you weren't one to be looking for stress regulation through booze, but you needed to knock down your reservations. Or at least lower your stiff guard.

You had so many hopes and unsaid little resolutions for the new year. One of them was about throwing yourself in the deep when it came to relationships.

You decided not only to try out dating apps, but just to give chances to experiences. Even if said experience was only one awful date, or a forgettable one night stand. You wanted to feel and to get yourself out of the comfort zone.

And what better way to start than on New Year's Eve?

A kiss at midnight would be the perfect beginning.

Ari Levinson would be the perfect man to do it with, too.

He was a friend of a friend, with whom you occasionally got to talk to if said friend invited you both to the same gathering. As they did for the New Year's Eve party.

You didn't have a crush on Ari, but you liked him. He was definitely very easy on the eyes and if the kiss led to something more, you wouldn't regret it a bit.

Downing another glass of wine, you took a deep breath and made your way toward the front where people were already taking their places along the row of windows to watch the fireworks burst in the sky when midnight struck.

Purposely, you sneaked into a spot beside Ari. He glanced down at you, flashing you that panty melting smile.

You beamed up at him, then returned your gaze to the display outside the window.

People were counting down aloud. You felt your heart hammering faster and harder. Just a few more seconds.

As they screamed "Happy New Year!" you turned on your heel. Before you allowed any logic to stop you from doing it, you grabbed the collar of Ari's shirt and pulled down, going on your tiptoes at the same time.

You crushed your lips into his, feeling the graze of his beard against your chin.

At first he stiffened against you, undoubtedly surprised. Then one of his arms weaved around you, a strong, confident grip that held you pressed to his front. His other hand cupped the back of your head and held you in place as he deepened the kiss.

It wasn't just a spontaneous midnight kiss from which two strangers could pull away laughing.

He made you moan into his mouth and melt into the unexpected possessive demand.

You were sure Ari was a great kisser, but to be honest you always imagined him as someone more playful and sensual in the way he kissed.

When he finally pulled back, after getting a fill of your taste, you let out a soft "Oh," to which he responded with a low, deep chuckle.

"Happy New Year." He murmured, though there was something different about his voice. "May I know with whom I'm starting it?"

Your eyes flew open at the teasing, yet soft comment. It instantly became obvious why Ari's voice sounded off.

Because it wasn't Ari.

It took you a few seconds of staring at the handsome face. He had a beard, just like Ari, though trimmed in a more elegant way. His dark hair was cut much shorter than Ari's, but they looked invitingly soft.

With dread and embarrassment, you recognized your friend's boss. Andy Barber.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 1

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

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don't think you'll ever be enough for him.

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

A single line. Negative. You cringe as you hold the plastic stick over the bin in disappointment. There’s a knock at the door. 

“Well,” Andy’s voice rumbles through. 

You drop the test into the garbage and exhale softly, “not this time.” 

You crank on the faucet and rinse off your hands. The door opens from the other side and Andy meets your eye in the mirror. You can see the same disappointment in him. He even looks angry. 

“You been taking your vitamins?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod to the pillow box, each day a separate compartment, filled with the multicolor tablets. “I’m off coffee finally. No drinking. I gave Lisa a bunch of wine.” 

Your husband sighs, “you were ovulating. You said so.” 

“Andy,” you shrug. “It just takes time.” 

“Three years,” he says. “Yeah, a long time.” 

You wince at his disapproval. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. “I know. I’m trying.” 

“We’re both trying,” he insists. “Even on the days I’m tired, from working, when all I wanna do is nothing, I try. All according to your calendar. Are you sure you’re doing it right?” 

“What?” You face him. “Yeah, it’s an app and the tests--” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t trying as hard as me. Or maybe you’re hiding something.” 

His accusation is like a slap in the face. You blink furiously and shake your head, “what are you saying?” 

“You went to the OBGYN last week. How do I know you didn’t get pills? Or an insert?” 

“Huh?” You grimace. You got your IUD out the month before the wedding; because he asked. It wasn’t fun or easy. “Why--” 

“Cold feet? I mean, you leave dishes in the sink, maybe you’re not ready for a kid.” 

Your lashes flutter as your eyes burn. You leave a glass or two in the sink but the place isn’t a sty. You heave and swallow down the hurt. He’s frustrated. That’s it. 

“I’m ready. I’ve been just as ready as you,” you croak. 

“Hm, well, maybe you should book another appointment. Get a referral and figure out what’s wrong with you.” 

“What’s wrong--” 

“There are options. In vitro. Surrogate,” he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, “I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.” 

You want to say that it could be him. That you’re not necessarily the problem but you can’t be entirely sure of that. You sniffle, “Andy, I want it just as bad. I understand that it’s hard but you don’t have to be mean.” 

“Cecilia and Mark started trying last year and she’s about to pop,” he retorts. “And Timothy, he’s older than I am and he’s got twins.” 

“Andy,” you plead. “You’re acting like this is some conspiracy.” 

He looks away as if to suggest that’s possible. You stagger with hurt. His mom always accused you of being a gold digger. Does he believe you? He’s the one who told you to quit your job and stay home. 

He clears his throat and his eyes flick over sharply, “almost forgot. Found a cooking course for you. Down at the Elmwood.” 

“A cooking... what?” 

“Mom suggested it. Said it could help with everything. Make it more manageable if you know what you’re doing.” He drops his hands to his hips. 

“But... you like my cooking.” 

“Honey, you cook out of cans and the freezer. It’s something but if we’re going to have a little one, you need to start making more organic meals. Processed foods are awful, especially if you’re going to be breastfeeding,” he girds. 

Your heart sinks even further. You just can’t do anything right. Not since he put that ring on your finger. You’ve let him down in so many ways. You can’t give him a baby, you can’t cook what he likes, and last night he said you were too dry. Not your fault when he doesn’t offer any foreplay. 

“It will be fun too,” he offers. “I’m sure you’ll make some friends. Maybe some who can give you good advice... moms.” 

You restrain the flinch and nod. “Sure, probably will be. I guess... learning new things is good.” 

“Sure it will be, honey,” he shoves away from the wall and comes closer. “Look, it’s not that bad, alright?” He brushes his hand over your hip and along your lower back. He turns you to face him, “we can try again. Before work?” 

He pulls you against him and you have to resist tearing away. You’re not mad. You’re hurt. Why can’t he ever tell you what you do right? 

“Sure,” you run your hands up his white tee shirt. 

“Mm, when’s the last time we were spontaneous?” He purrs as his attitude shifts entirely. “Come on, get on the counter. Just like old times.” 

Your cheeks sear at the memory. When you were his law clerk, it was so exciting. Your little rendezvous, the under the desk fun. Now it’s so much pressure. Now he really feels like your boss. 

He backs you up and you brace the counter. He helps you up and pushes between your knees. You gasp as he steps between them and pulls down the straps of your nightie. A shiver speckles goosebumps across your chest as he bends to bury his face. 

You clasp the back of his head as he fondles one tit in his hand and latches onto the other. He groans as he teethes at you and sucks as he pulls back, stretching your nipple until it pops free. He looks up at you and purrs. 

“You know, when you’re expecting, those are gonna be bigger,” he stands and you hide your disappointment. No foreplay. Again. “I can’t wait.” 

He spreads your knees and pulls you so your pelvis is curled. He pushes down the elastic of his boxers as he slides you closer to the edge. He grabs your shoulder, pushing you back against the mirror as he guides himself along your cunt. 

He growls as he pushes inside of you, rocking until he finds his way in. He grunts and snaps his hips as you whine. It scrapes dryly as you’re unprepared for his suddenness. You brace his forearm and grit down on the pain. 

“You’re dry again,” he snarls and thrusts. 

You rasp, “sorry, I’m trying.” 

You reach down to your clit and he swats your hand away. He snags your wrists and brings them above your head. He pins them to the mirror and rams in harder. You whimper and curl your legs around him. 

“Ah, Andy--” 

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like how big I am?” He pounds into you without patient. “Want me to fill you up, don’t you?” 

You gulp and gasp around his raw intrusion. He squeezes your wrists until your fingers throb and you notice how he watches himself in the mirror, almost entirely unconcerned with your presence. You turn your head down and bite your lip as he uses you. You just need him to get off and then you can go cook him a breakfast he won’t he even like.