#jacob barber fanfiction

[loversclwb]

the fanbase I wrote for is dead so i don’t think anyone will see this but i’m wanting to write a jacob barber fanfiction like multiple chapters and idk what the storyline/plot should be i have multiple ideas but am lost if anyone sees this and cares abt little old me plz put in any suggestions 🙏

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 1

Summary: Andy was supposed to be in the past. There's where he should have stayed.

Pairings: Andy Barber

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentions of teenage sex, unprotected sex, PIV sex, daddy kink, degradation, body issues, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, creampie, cheating? 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.3K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

The woman in front of you babbles on a few more seconds before you look at your computer confused. You are in over your head, and don’t know where to begin. Maybe lying on your resume was a terrible idea, and you were better suited for the coffee shop. They didn’t let you choose what hours you wanted to work, and you needed that. At least at this office you are given that luxury.

You were underqualified, and a kept woman of sorts. “Ma’am,” you glance up at her quickly. She has kind eyes, and an upturned nose. She was just a bit younger than you, and you want to trust her, but there’s that prickling feeling inside of you that makes you not trust younger women. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

You shake your head no, ashamedly. “I’m a fast learner though.”

“So was I,” she takes a moment to look around the office. You are the only two around, so you’re not sure why she’s so concerned. “Listen, take your time. It’s not that hard, but unfortunately there is a layout to things. You’re here, and I kinda like you. Mr. Drysdale isn’t a terrible human, and you’re at the front desk. So all in all you’ll be fine.”

You thank her, and nod your head. How the hell did you wind up here? Not just in your situation but this stupid place. You knew nobody, and now you’re left wondering if that was the point. That you wouldn’t be able to reach out to someone for help. You had no inner circle. No one to just vent to. It’s how he liked it. And what did that cost you? You look down at your left hand, and get angry all over again. You were past feeling sorry for yourself. Past begging and pleading for a different outcome. He hit you where it hurt.

Now you’re doing what is right for everyone. You’re becoming independent. Nothing is going to stop you. You’re not going to rely on a man. Or allow one to make you feel less about yourself. You’re going to make them proud. You’re going to…

Shit.

Your head ducks down quickly as a tall man walks through the door. He gives a quick glance your way, but you miss the crooked smile. You wouldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t acknowledge his existence.

He bustles past you, directly to Mr. Drysdale’s office, and you finally stand up. Moving to jump in front of him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barber, you’ll have to schedule an appointment with him.”

“So you do remember me?” How could you ever forget one of the most perfect human beings you’d ever met. You’re everything. Every first you ever had was with him. Every plan that you could ever make was with Andy. Everything was Andy��s. And that’s when he was younger.

His hair was lighter then, and he didn’t have that full delicious beard. He definitely didn’t seem this tall, or broad. Or scrumptiously thick. He was just a boy then, but now he is everything you knew he would be. He walks like he has so much power. Still commanding a room, and even the breath that you breathe, he steals from you.

You exhale slowly, nodding your head. What do you even say to this man? Quick look at his hand. He doesn’t have a ring, and now you feel invasive. But he’s got his hand on display. “I don’t remember you this quiet,” he smiles again.

He’s just as beautiful as you remember. Years ago the two of you had named all your children. You’re sure you have it tucked away somewhere. You even had your wedding planned. You had everything until he moved off. Distance became more than just the miles away that you were between you. It became the lack of communication. Then no communication. And as much as it pained you, you knew that he was gone, and he was forever going to be the one that got away.

Living a few decades had done his body good. He was — immaculate. Much taller than you remember. But apart from his physical appearance he still has that ability to make your stomach feel like mush. Like everything in this world ceases to exist because Andy Barber is around. You’re not a child anymore, but he still feels like he can stop time. Because when the two of you are together it’s the way that it was meant to be.

”Doe? You okay, sweetheart?” he asks again. You are sure you look like the biggest dork, standing in front of him to block the way to Mr. Drysdale’s office.

“You remember?” That little nickname was your undoing. How Andy managed to come up with it, he never told you. But it’s so soft and shy, something you weren’t then.

“There’s nothing I don’t remember with you,” why did that sound so sensual? It has to all be in your brain because you’re lonely. And he’s Andy. “You look good,” okay, now he’s lying. You look like a hot mess. Your makeup is mostly smeared on. Your clothes are things you found at a thrift store. Your eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. And your weight fluctuates too often for you to keep up with. Depression can do that to a person.

“I look — nothing — you just — better.”

“You never could take a compliment,” he gives a wink, and takes one more step towards Mr. Drysdale’s office. “Is something wrong?”

“You need an appointment to meet with him.”

Andy looks down at you with a smile. You swear he’s taller than he used to be. You can almost feel the way his fingers would dig into your skin as you — stop it. You’re at work. And he’s Andy. “Ransom, get your ass out here.”

You hear a chair roll back, and are irritated that Andy is going to make it look like you aren’t doing your job. Mr. Drysdale opens the door, standing in the doorway with both hands on his hips and shrugs. “You’re about five minutes late.”

“Your secretary has been keeping me. For good reason though. Maybe you should let her know who the District Attorney is,” your jaw goes slack as you look at him. He did it. He really fucking did it. Next stop, judge. “Doe, care to join me for some coffee afterwards, and you and I can catch up?”

“I can’t,” it’s not a complete lie. You can’t just go and get coffee randomly. Things have to be planned out. You have people you have to call.

“She can’t,” Mr. Drysdale agrees, opening the door wider. “Stop trying to steal my office managers. He’s not hiring. He’ll lie to you, constantly. I pay better, and have better hours.”

“I’m the DA though, and you’re just the…”

“Shut up, and get in here. We’re not talking about it. But seriously, don’t listen to him. He’s a dangerous flirt,” Andy is definitely dangerous. And that terrifies you. He shakes his head with a smile, but you know the truth. Andy is poison to you. The best tasting poison. You’d find yourself falling without even trying. Because he was once your everything. And then you both grew up.

He darkens the doorway again, and you look back down at your computer. This is getting a bit ridiculous. You are trying to hold strong, and he is doing anything but that. He is a parasite sucking the life out of you until you fold to his desires. You’re not doing it. Losing Andy in the past was hell. Losing him now will be much more difficult. You’re an independent woman, goddammit.

“Doe?”

“You don’t have a meeting with Mr. Drysdale today. And tonight we’re closing early so people can enjoy the office party,” a party that was designed to celebrate another year of Andy being the DA. It was all very self gratifying for him. “Mr. Barber.”

“I don’t want you calling me that,” you glance up at him before returning back to your computer to just stare. You can’t even pretend to be working because you’re not. You’re just avoiding him and those looks, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Maybe calling me my childhood nickname? Nobody does that anymore, Mr. Barber,” he rolls his eyes before leaning over your desk. He’s too close. You can count the freckles that splay out over his nose, and smell his intoxicating cologne. The one you wish you knew what it was so you could be the girl that sprays a shirt and you can get a fill of him without having him. “Andy, what do you want?”

“For you to stop fighting my invitations to coffee. Or the office party. Or to dinner. Unless you have a perfectly good reason to tell me no,” he glances down at your left hand, and you feel sick. Would things be different a year ago? Would you still entertain Andy this long? The ego boost is working nice for your fragile self esteem.

But the way he looks at your left hand hungrily has you ready to actually vomit. This isn’t where you saw your life. Working in the Assistant District Attorney’s office while the DA barges in and compliments you, and asks you out on a daily basis. No. You were supposed to be keeping a house. And making sure your husband had dinner when he came home. And now you’re in fucking Newton and alone. Sort of.

Your tanline from your finger has since faded, and so should your conflicting feelings. Life wasn’t supposed to be so difficult. You know you sound like a child, but your dreams have been shattered so many times, and now here’s the first one waltzing back into your life asking for damn coffee. Or dinner. Or the office party. Next week will be something new.

“What if I just want to get drunk?” You had the means to go to the party. The means to do whatever you want. You didn’t have anyone relying on you tonight.

“Then I heavily suggest you let me make sure you get home safely and that nobody takes advantage of you.”

Do not allow this man to make that sound sweet. It’s not. It’s just basic human kindness. Stun him. Make him wonder and worry. Make him — want. Not just want, make him beg for the taste of you, “What if I want someone to take advantage of me?”

His eye brow cocks up, and his mouth turns up into a crooked smile. Andy’s knuckles bleach with how tight his fist is at the not so subtle suggestion. Good. You affected him as much as he’s been making you weak. “Any suggestions?”

There it is. The possessive Andy. The one that wants to let everyone know that you are his, and you are off limits. You want him to tell everyone that you belong to him. You want him to claim you in ways that the two of you feared when you were younger. You want him to own you. And you want him to leave you alone. One night. Just to prove to yourself you still got it, and then you want to live your life.

“Sweetheart, I won’t let anyone take advantage of you. You’re too precious for that.”

“And what if I want you to?” He growls. Actually growls. A rumble rolls up his chest, and he grits his teeth. His jaw pulses with desire. “Just one night.”

“There’s never been just one night between us,” you scoff. He’s making things difficult.

“You’ll just have to make it that way,” he wouldn’t want your baggage anyways. The two of you are adults now. You can’t be running around acting like teenagers and fucking everywhere you land. You have responsibilities and a job. A life. And…

“If you think you can say no to me after one night,” he challenges. Prick.

“It’s what it will have to be.”

He slams the two of your bodies against the door, and you shudder. Arching your back to bring your body closer to his, and his meaty hands slap over your ass. Sliding down the spheres before lifting you up, and you hungrily wrap your legs around his waist. Bringing him to your core, ripping your dress, but sighing at feeling his bulge next to you. Thankfully it was only ten dollars at GoodWill. Focus!

He grinds his hips into your aching body, and your vision blurs at the sensation. Head pointing up to the heavens while you offer up your sacrifice to Andy. Gasping for air, and his mouth traces down your neck. Tasting and nibbling your heated glaze, and your fingers make work of his button up shirt.

“You’re eager,” he rolls himself into your center, and you gasp at how hard he is. These slacks leave nothing to the imagination. You can see the perfect outline of him, and you need him naked now.

“Shut up, and fuck me,” removing your back off the door, he carries you down the hallway. Clawing at the back of your dress, and it’s fine, it’s already ripped. Tearing at the material with the need to only get you naked, so he can have you.

Andy drops your back onto the bed, untangling his arms so he can remove the rest of your dress. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some sweats for you,” you wish he would stop talking.

“Fuck me!”

Standing up, and off your body, you hate the loss of him, but enjoy him pulling and tugging on your underwear. Disposing of your bra, and he holds your legs open wide. Tilting his head to get a good look at your spread and weeping cunt. “Mmm, you look good enough to eat. Doe, you’re prettier than I remember.”

Why is he lying? Stop staring. It’s making you feel uncomfortable. You don’t have the body of a teenager anymore. Time is cruel, and the longer he stares, the more you want to just walk out of here. “Fuck,” his eyes roll in the back of his head when he enters a finger into your warmth. “Just as tight.”

Lying again. He probably says this about all his fuck buddies. You sit up in the bed and start jerking off every bit of clothing on his back. Making way to his pants, and you slowly undo his zipper. Peeling away his boxers, and you moan when his fat, thick, veiny cock bounces up in your face. “It’s yours. Go on, and take it,” Andy watches you with so much enthusiasm as you lick his precum off his slit.

Mewling at the musky taste that can only be described as Andy Barber. Your body liquifies and arousal pools in your core. You kiss down his shaft, keeping your eyes on him. There’s a lot of things that time can change. Your ability to suck a cock like a pro is one of them. Getting to the base of his length, your tongue twirls around the velvety steel, and you trace kisses over his sack. Keeping your eyes on him as you suck one into your mouth, and he lurches.

“You’re a goddess,” he groans, and you move over to the other. Massaging the testicle with your tongue before letting it fall out. Laying your tongue flat, you trace that delectable vein up his glorious dick before you reach his spongy head, and you swallow him. You try to swallow him whole, but come short. He somehow became bigger.

Wrapping both hands around his base, you bob on him. Gagging and slurping up the wetness before his hands grab both sides of your head, and you let your hands drop to your side, “Are you wanting me to fuck your mouth?”

Hollowing out your cheeks, you place your hands to grip onto his toned thighs. “You’re such a slut for me,” he says before his hips piston into you. Hitting the back of your throat like a man on a mission, and you let him take it. His pleasurable sounds are better than you remember. Maybe he’s just more comfortable. He’s older. More experienced. Not as timidly as the young man he was.

He halts his ministrations before pulling himself out of your throat, and you long to taste his cock again. His hands go under your armpits before he throws you up the bed. His wide body keeps your legs spread, and gripping his base, he runs it up and down your slit. Gathering up your juices. “Andy!”

“Shh, I’m enjoying seeing you spread open and begging for me to fuck you. Use your manners,” no. You can leave at any time. But you don’t want to. You want him to use you like his own personal sex doll. “Don’t be such a fucking brat. Say, please.”

“Please.”

“Is that all?” Oh, who is being the brat now? “Go on. Say it. My cock does want to sink into your warmth, and have you quaking and spread so wide. Keep you full and…”

“Please, fuck me, daddy,” the whine of your voice has him snapping his hips. Plunging into your needy cunt in one move, and you reel. Fingers gripping onto the bed sheets, and seeing stars with the depths that Andy reached. “You’re huge!” You gasp for air.

“So you’re saying when we were younger?”

“Not this — oh god — big!”

“I always loved it when you would go dumb on feeling me inside of you,” this cock is dangerous. It’s what all fantasies are made out of. Long, but not too long. But so fucking thick. Stretching you so wide that your toes curl. Back lifting off the bed because you can’t get enough of him. When was the last time you felt this satisfied by a human? The answer to that is depressing.

His movements are deliberate. They’re smooth like your body was made for him. He wouldn’t have to do anything, but just let you warm him. Keep him close to you forever. One night. Maybe a second night. No. Don’t fall for him. Don’t dream about his cock. He doesn’t need your mess of a life.

He pumps into you so slow, and you’re wrecked. This is better than you remember it. But you won’t allow your head to imagine that now is yours and Andy’s time. You won’t allow yourself to get worked up. You were teenage lovers that drifted apart, and you’re doing this one more time. That is all. Not more than that.

“Doe,” god, his voice. It tingles through your body, and you look up at him. He says your real name, smiling down at you. His voice dropped a few octaves with age, “Stay with me, baby. I know it feels good.”

“Don’t pre…”

“Aye! That happened one time. And it was our first time,” you can’t help but smile. You both were each other’s first, and it was less than stellar. It was raw, and unexpected. But you did it together. “You like this, huh?”

“That obvious?” He stabs into you with a quick hard thrust, and your mouth droops open. Fuck. He’s good. He’s too good. He’s too right. Does this ever have to end? Can he just stay seated inside of you forever? That’s not really the way you want to live life, but it’s a nice quick and fleeting thought.

It’s almost too slow and intimate. Like the way he’s fucking is more worshiping you and promising you another time tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. And you’re fighting that with all the resistance you can muster. You need him to fuck you and fuck you so hard and deep that it has a lasting effects and you won’t need him again. Even though you know that’s a lie.

“Andy, I…” his expression is pained, like he knows what you’re asking. “Please, don’t make this difficult.”

“I don’t want to. I want to make you mine,” the sentiment is too good to be true, and you hit on his shoulders. Letting him fall to his back before you saddle on up. Grabbing the base of his cock, you sink down over him, and fuck him. Use him for your pleasure. Bucking on top of him like you were made to do this. Your hands press hard into his toned chest. He got so much better with age, and then you are just you. Just plain. Just a woman that nobody would want in the daylight.

Getting yourself off is easy since he’s being a vocal man. You’ll let your legs be rubbed raw if it means you get to take him fully and to the hilt. It’s gotta last. It just has to. If life were different and it was easier, you could make this happen. You should tell him. Let him know the truth that changed your world. “I’m not able get pregnant,” keep it simple and easy. He doesn’t need to know the details.

You don’t know how he did it, but he has you off his body. Pushing your front onto the bed, and keeping you on your knees when he crawls behind you. Hands tightly on your hips as he slides all the way home. The only sound in the room is wet skin slapping on each other and needy hungry moans. Reaching under your stomach he lifts your back to his front as he pounds into you.

“Then let me fuck you like I’m going to breed you,” you whimper out his name, and an arm wraps around your neck. Holding you tight against him and adding pressure to the soft column. Cutting off a bit of your airflow, and making you dizzy. “Let me fuck my seed so deep in your belly, and make you mine.”

The words are so sweet and still so vulgar. “Yes! For real this time,” a few too many accidents in the past led to pregnancy scares. You don’t want an accident. You want him in your belly. You need him there. “Fuck me harder!”

He fucks you so hard that you know your going to bruise. The way he grips onto your soft curves tells you how badly he wants to keep you with him. “Look at me. Doe! Look at me!”

With furrowed brows you turn your head to stare into his eyes. “We’re about to come, and you’re going to keep your eyes on me, okay?” You nod your head as your orgasm builds in your belly. Bubbling and frothing just below the surface like a hot deadly volcano. Rumbling below the surface as he ruts into you like his life depends on it.

“Don’t take your eyes off me. Swear it!”

“I swear it,” one more slap into you, and your volcano erupts. Walls clamping around his cock. Placing him in a vice grip as thick ribbons of cum spurt inside of you. So much cream that you feel bloated, and so satiated. “Thank you,” you whisper as your eyes start to get heavy.

“Only a short nap. We’re going again. And again.”

“But I said…”

“You said, just for tonight. Not just one time,” you didn’t care to argue. You revel in the feeling of him in your belly as he starts to pull out. “Can I look?”

“What?” How does something so filthy seem sweet now. He wants to see himself inside of you.

“I’ve always wanted to look at you leaking without fear,” giggling you nod your head, and roll to your back. Spreading your legs open wide, while Andy settles in between your thighs on his belly, watching so closely and with bated breath as pearls of his seed drip out of you. “Perfect,” he hums, and starts fingering it back inside of you. “If I make it stick, you’re mine.”

“You won’t,” he hears the pain in your voice as you respond, and crawls up your body. Placing the softest most tender kiss up your imperfect body. Showing you love you can no longer give yourself. He ends on your lips, and kisses you so passionately that it takes your breath away. He won’t. And you can’t ever be his.

Andy looks at his text message from Ransom, making sure this was your house. Suburbs. This didn’t strike him as your home. But Ransom assured him it was. He walks up the steps to your home, and stumbles back.

“Andy? Why are you here?” Scott Huffman asks. A little girl clings to his leg, and she looks up at him smiling. “Aubrey, please, baby, get off daddy’s leg,” Andy looks at the little girl oddly. She has your eyes. “Go check on Suede.”

“Bubba!” She screams, getting off her dad’s leg. And he steps back. This is wrong. This can’t be right.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asks again. He grimaces when a loud bang reverberates inside the house, and he looks at his watch annoyed. “God, she’s late. I should have known she would be. Andy?”

“Umm,” he holds onto your clutch that you left at his house. Looking at Scott confused. He says your name, and Scott looks at him accusatory. “She left her — here.”

“How do you know my wife?”

“I’ve got to go,” Andy says, shoving the clutch into Scott’s arm as he walks away. No wonder you said that he couldn’t have you. You pranced around Ransom’s office without a ring. You trapped him. No. That’s not really the word for it. You said you couldn’t get pregnant, probably because you had your tubes tied after two kids.

What the fuck? How could you lie to him like that? He knows things didn’t end the way they should have. But cheating on your husband is another thing. Scott wasn’t really in his department, but he is aware of the lawyer. Ruthless. Come to think of it, he didn’t wear a ring either. He didn’t want to be in whatever sick bullshit you and your husband were playing.

He wants you. Wanted. Wants. He doesn’t know. And it doesn’t matter what he wants. Because you’re going to come home and be the perfect wife to your husband and at least two kids. And he’s going home alone.

Next

Masterlist

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

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

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

[krirebr]

Thanksgiving with the Barbers

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: You and Andy celebrate Thanksgiving. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, references to punishment, isolation, solitary confinement, hunger, negative self-talk, manipulation, angst, mental breakdown - This is a rough one, guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Masterlist

A/N: So... remember this part from I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas?

"Don’t you want this Christmas to be better than Thanksgiving?” It took everything in you not to grimace. You still felt the marks from what he’d done to you after Thanksgiving dinner.

Yeah. This is that Thanksgiving.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who read so much of this and always encourages me to go as dark as my twisted little heart desires.

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’s soft murmurs traveled down the hallway to you from the entryway as he said goodbye to his guests. You couldn’t tell how things had gone. He’d seemed happy enough but as he’d started introducing you to his life outside these walls, you’d learned quickly how easily he could have one face for the world and a different one for you. He’d stressed many times all week how important it was that your first holiday together be perfect. Was it? Had you done enough?

You busied yourself with cleaning up the dining room, trying to ignore the churning dread in your stomach. The leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables had already been moved to the kitchen, waiting to be put away in the fridge. Then you’d start on the endless dishes. Hopefully, that would buy you some time alone, while Andy went back to the football on TV. 

You kept your head down and continued gathering the discarded plates as Andy’s heavy footsteps came down the hall. He entered the dining room and leaned against the old-fashioned buffet that took over one wall, his arms crossed over his chest. You felt his eyes on you, but you kept your own eyes down and didn’t say anything. You knew better now. 

You had a tall stack of plates now that you wanted to take into the kitchen, but you were afraid of turning your back on him and leaving the room. So, you stood where you were, and you waited. 

Finally, he cleared his throat. You looked up. “You were awfully quiet at dinner,” he said, softly, but there was an edge of steel in his tone. 

“No, I–” you started and immediately regretted it. That was a bad word. “I just didn’t have much to add to the conversation.” The guests were all Andy’s colleagues and their spouses. It’d been too much shop talk to keep track of. On top of being so many more people than you were used to.

Andy made a thoughtful little hum before he continued. “Barbara commented on it, as she said goodbye. Wanted to be sure you were ok, hadn’t felt left out.”

You forced a smile, trying to stop your hands from shaking. “Yes, I’m fine. I had a nice time. It was a good dinner.”

He pushed himself off of the buffet, straightening to his full height. “Really, you thought it was a good dinner? With a dry turkey and an unfriendly hostess?”

You couldn’t help the way you blanched. You’d never cooked a whole turkey before or anything like it.  And you didn’t have access to the internet right now, so you were limited to the highbrow cookbooks Andy had bought for you. While those recipes were detailed, they didn’t exactly have tips and tricks for beginners. You’d tried your best. And no one at dinner had complained. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. You’d thought it was ok. But he didn’t want to hear you defend yourself, so you said nothing. 

He looked at the dirty dishes spread across the table and scowled. “Finish cleaning this up,” he said. “We’ll continue this conversation when you’re done.”

You nodded quickly with a quiet, “Yes, Andy,” trying to keep your sigh of relief inside. He hadn’t said you’d continue the conversation downstairs, hadn’t said anything about a timeout or a punishment. You might be ok. You might get off with just a lecture. You could handle an upstairs lecture—kneeling at Andy’s feet while he listed all the ways you’d disappointed him and everything you needed to do to be better. Sometimes you even got to stay fully clothed. Lectures were fine. Lectures were easy. As long as you got to stay upstairs, you’d be ok.

Without another word, he moved into the kitchen. You heard him opening and closing the fridge as you continued organizing the dishes into neat stacks to hopefully make cleaning up a little easier. He came back with a beer in his hand, moving through to the living room to watch the evening game. As he started to walk by the table, the movement drew your eye to something, his reflection caught in the shiny steel. The carving knife. Just lying there next to the turkey.

The knife block had sensors in it, just like all the doors downstairs or the front door of the house. You had to scan your wristband every time you needed to use a knife while cooking and it would send an alert to Andy’s phone, letting him know whenever you used one, for how long, and when you put it back. But the carving knife, he’d taken that out himself today. As the man of the house, he had to be the one to carve the turkey. And then he’d just left it there, forgotten about it. The carving knife.

As you stood there, staring at it, it was like all of the parts of yourself he’d worked so hard to turn off, suddenly came roaring back on. How much you hated the dress you currently wore. How exhausted you were after working in the kitchen all day without a single thank you. The lecture that you knew awaited you, being forced to kneel at his feet. All of your own holiday traditions that had been stolen from you so that you could accommodate his. Everything he’d taken from you. The rage bubbling up inside of you was cleansing. You felt it giving you new breath, new life. You felt yourself coming back.

You looked up at Andy as he continued to move, his back to you now. That perfect, broad expanse. You could see it so clearly. The way you’d bury that knife between his shoulder blades. You lunged across the table.

Andy spun around as soon as he heard you move, his bottle of beer slipping from his hand, it’s contents spilling everywhere. Somehow, in that instant, he saw what you were grasping for and lunged for it too. Oh god, he was so much closer to it. You'd timed it all wrong. You were stupid in your desperation and anger. Oh well. You'd already made the choice. There was no turning back now.

You threw yourself onto the table, arm outstretched, dirty plates beneath you, just as his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife. You let out a guttural scream as he threw it away from you and it clattered against the baseboards. 

A beat too late, you tried to crawl backward, your knees struggling for purchase on the tablecloth, plates crashing to the floor, but Andy had already grabbed your still outstretched arm, dragging you towards him as you flailed, trying and failing to grab onto anything that might help you. 

He pulled you over the edge of the table and you fell to the floor, landing harshly in a jumble, more plates falling around you. He loomed over you, face completely overtaken by rage. But it couldn’t compare to yours. You kicked out wildly, indiscriminately and you’d never felt more satisfied than when you landed a few hits to his shins and he grunted in pain. Your satisfaction was short-lived, however, as he recovered and reached down to wrap his hands around both your wrists, even as you struggled as hard as you could to get away from him. 

He didn’t say a word as he dragged you across the floor. That was fine. You had no problem filling the silence. “You fucking motherfucker!” you screamed, the frustration and terror and anger of the last several months finally finding an outlet. “I hate you! I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna burn this house to the fucking ground!”

Your struggles kicked up a notch as he opened the door to the basement with one hand, the other now holding on to both of your wrists. “No!” you yelled. “You can’t fucking do this! I’m done pretending to be your perfect little wife! You can’t–”

He wasn’t gentle at all as he yanked you down the stairs. You had to pause your fighting and screaming as you fell, the breath knocked out of you. You tried to protect your head, tried to protect any part of your body you could as you hit every step. Your dress did nothing to help as it gathered above your waist. You were exposed and vulnerable. But what else was new? You were immune to it now, after being debased every single day for months.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs to adjust his hold on you, using both hands to drag you again. Still, he said nothing. But you caught your breath and resumed your litany of hate. “You’re so fucking weak. You’re pathetic. Of course, you had to buy a wife. Who would love you willingly?” The carpet burned your skin as he dragged you across it, but you continued to struggle, continued to scream. Nothing would stop you now. “You’re disgusting. Embarrassing.”

He stopped in front of the door to the quiet room and you almost laughed. Did he really think this was just some little tantrum a time-out would fix?  Did he really not understand the rage and power that flowed through you now? Did he really think a few hours in the dark would quell this? No way. After everything you’d been through, everything you felt now, you could handle the quiet room.

He threw you in and closed the door behind you. You sank down into the darkness. This was fine. This was great. The darkness couldn’t hurt you.

You’d forgotten what it was like to have no understanding of the passage of time. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. Right? 

He would come get you soon. What would you do then? Attack him as best you could. The rage still coursed through you. You were done laying down for him.

It must be getting late. It’d already been evening when the guests left. You were so tired now. Exhausted. But you had to be ready when Andy opened the door.

You startled awake as the furnace whirred to life. You were slumped over against the wall, your face pushed into the cinder block. It felt grimy.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Where was Andy? Whatever tenuous grasp you’d had on what time it was was completely gone now. That was ok. Andy would come soon and you’d beat the shit out of him, and then you would know what time it was.

It was the hunger that hit you first, but the thirst hit you harder. You knew now that this was the longest he’d ever left you here. You’d never gone hungry like this before. Well. He would let you out soon. He had to.

Your stomach hurt with how hungry you were. Your throat ached. Would he just let you die down here? Was he that angry? So angry that he’d decided to cut his losses. Start over with someone new. Was starving to death better than your life upstairs? Or the basement? You honestly didn’t know.

You were sprawled across the floor, as much as you could in the small space. What was the point of being upright? You could barely even tell which way was up anymore. It was all just darkness.

Suddenly, you were hit by a sliver of blinding light. What was happening? It took you embarrassingly long to realize it must have been a slot in the door you’d never seen before. Then something slid through it. You blinked at it, trying to get your eyes to focus, trying to make sense of what you saw. Oh my god, it was food! You lunged for it and tried to pull the tray to you, but it wouldn’t budge. That was better anyway. You needed the light to eat.  

On the tray was a small plate of leftover turkey and green beans and a bottle of water, along with a small plastic fork. You went for the water first, downing it, and then scarfed up the food, not even tasting it. After a few minutes, on the other side of the slot, you heard an alarm go off, and the tray was pulled back, a few bites still on the plate. “Andy, wait!” you called out, but the slot slammed closed and you were in the dark again.

You didn’t have anything to do. You couldn’t remember the last time you had nothing to do. Before Andy brought you here. Evenings in your little apartment, watching TV and eating takeout, fucking around on your phone. You hadn’t done that, hadn’t even thought about doing it in months. 

When you first got here, when your list of chores felt insurmountable and ridiculous, you would’ve given anything for the chance to lay around and do nothing. But now, it didn’t feel right. You should find a way to be productive. Andy was going to be so disappointed in you.

You hated yourself for thinking it.

You tried to do some yoga. You were so stiff from laying on the floor, but it was too hard when you couldn’t see how much space you had and were too scared of hurting yourself on the furnace or hitting the wall. So you went back to doing nothing.

The worst thing about waking up in this room was that you had no memory of falling asleep. It was all just darkness. Maybe there was no real difference between sleeping and being awake. How could you even tell anymore?

Andy brought another meal. Well, you assumed it was him. There was no one else. But you didn’t see him. He didn’t say anything. The tray was pushed through the slot, you ate and drank as fast as you could, the tray was pulled away. You didn’t say anything to him either.

You were so fucking bored. You’d tried singing to yourself. Running through old movies you remembered watching on TV as a kid. Reciting passages from old books. You felt like you were running out of thoughts.

There’d been three meals. If you could count the meals, that was sort of like keeping track of time, right? Even though you had no idea how often he brought them. Still, it had to be something.

The furnace was going to drive you insane. That whirring, whirring, whirring. White noise that wouldn’t stop. So loud you were afraid that the noise was just inside your head now. Maybe the furnace wasn’t even on.

“Andy,” you called out when the slot opened. “Andy, please.” He didn’t say anything. He never said anything.

The timer must have gone off sooner this time. The tray was pulled back when you were only halfway done. You started crying as the slot started to slide closed. Your stomach felt too empty.

You realized your mistake after he was gone. You had to call him sir when you were in the basement.

You started talking to yourself. Just to hear your voice. Any voice. You didn’t have anything to say, but you just couldn’t deal with the silence.

It wasn’t worth it. You saw that so clearly now. What did you really think you’d gain? You were never going to kill him. You couldn’t even hurt him. You were never going to win and you’d lost even more by trying.

You couldn’t remember whether there’d been six or seven meals. You’d lost count. And they were all the same. Nothing differentiated them. There was nothing to hold on to. This was the one thing tethering you to anything real and you’d lost it. There was no getting it back. You didn’t know how long you’d been crying.

He was tired of you. He was done. He was the only thing you had in the whole world and you’d lost him. You’d fucked it up. You were going to rot away in the Quiet Room until you were nothing. There was no getting out.

You crawled over to the slot when it opened and put your head right in front of it, keeping your eyes closed to avoid the burn of the light. “Sir,” you pleaded, your voice raspy, “sir, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sir. Please.” You were crying. You couldn't stop. You couldn't hide it. 

He paused before he pushed the tray through, but he didn't say anything. 

You were lying on the floor, trying to figure out whether you were awake or dreaming when everything was suddenly bathed in light. You must be dreaming. Oh, but would a dream hurt so much? You rolled onto your stomach and curled up in a ball to try to shield your eyes from the light. Wake up wake up wake up, you chanted to yourself.

And then– Then, as you were curling up, tighter and tighter, on the floor, someone touched you, lightly, gently on your back. When was the last time you’d been touched? You didn’t know. You started crying, even as you pressed up into the soft caress.

“Oh sweetheart,” someone said. An angel. But wait. You knew that voice. “Look at you,” Andy said, “we’ve both had a rough few days, huh?”

You slowly rolled back over, wincing harshly at the light. There he was, crouching over you. You squinted at him, trying to make out his features. You started to sit up, but it ached to use your muscles that way.

He reached out a hand to help you. “Go slow, honey,” he said, and his voice was so gentle. “Give yourself a minute to adjust.”

“Sir?” you rasped. Was he really here?

“Hi sweetheart,” he cooed, as he carefully pulled you into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“How–” you blinked up at him, feeling so disoriented. “How long?”

“Too long,” he answered sadly. “But we both needed time to calm down, didn’t we?” 

He stroked your back, and you whimpered. It felt so good. You’d been alone for so long. You nuzzled into his chest, the tears still streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t– I shouldn’t have– I don’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand. Please forgive me.”

“Oh honey,” he sighed. You wished that you could drink up his gentle voice after so much silence. “I know. I know. It was a hard day. I understand. I’ll forgive you. After your punishment, it’ll be like it didn’t even happen.” 

“Punishment?” you looked at him in horror. “But– This– I–” You’d already been through so much. How could there be more?

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice picking up a firm edge. “This was just a little timeout. For both of us. So that we could both calm down and think about what happened. You know I never want to punish you when I’m angry.”

“But I’m sorry,” you cried, grasping at his shirt. You didn’t think you could handle a punishment. You were afraid you’d break into a million pieces in that room.

“You tried to hurt me.” All of the gentleness was gone now. “You have to be punished so you learn.”

You barely nodded as you curled up in his arms, crying quietly. You’d been so stupid. So, so stupid. It was such a mistake.

“I’ll tell you what, honey.” His hand resumed its stroking, up and down, up and down your back. So gently. “If you’re very good for me, if you take your punishment like a good girl, then we can go right back upstairs when it’s done. We won’t have to spend any more time down here.”

“Really?” You’d been so afraid that you’d doomed yourself to months down in the basement again, even worse than before.

“Really. Neither of us wants to be down here, do we? We both want to be happy upstairs, don’t we?”

“Yes, sir. Please, please. I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl.”

“I know you will be, sweetheart. Let’s go get it over with, huh? Then we can take a nice long bath to get all this grime off of you. Can you move? Can you get up?”

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled into his chest, but you didn’t make any effort to move. Not yet. You wanted to savor this for a few more moments. You knew that as soon as you got into the punishment room, all of the gentleness would be gone. He’d be the figure from your nightmares again. And you knew you deserved it. You were so stupid. But you needed a couple more minutes of his soft touches before you’d be ready.

Tag List

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki @spiderwebbedhearts

[babyjakes]

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

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | sex shop

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

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

word count | 987

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cottagecheese1]

unhinged worlds 3

summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new beginnings, but what happens when your new beginning comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them.

paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea. warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.

Series master list right here

This all seemed so wrong–actually it was wrong. The way Andy was eating you out like a madman between your thighs seemed too good to be true, and the fact that some deep part of you liked this made you shiver. Maybe it was because of the foreign praise Johnny and Colin gave you while you squirmed in their grasp while desperately trying to give yourself an ounce of freedom.

“Aww, honey I just know you’re so close already”, Colin said with a mocking grin.

Apparently, Andy didn’t seem to be fooled by your desperate attempt to conceal the moans that were forced out of the back of your throat, because you felt his mouth attach to your clit and aggressively start sucking. You suddenly jumped back, trying to create some sort of distance between the both of you. Andy then just wrapped his arms around your thighs–pulling you closer, which caused a sudden spasm to exit your body.

“Mmm, look at you sweetheart, all sensitive and shit,” Johnny cooed while pinching your exposed nipples, which caused you to let out a weak squeal.

Colin chuckled and squeezed your other nipple roughly, “She’s just a Baby Johnny, she obviously can’t help it,” he said as he leaned down and pecked your forehead. “can’t you Honey? You’ve never felt this good, have you?”

You really haven’t ever felt this good before. Not that you would ever let any of the three men know that, but the desperate whine you let out as Andy shoved his tongue deeper inside of you just made the two men taunt you more, and the unwanted pleasure that Andy was giving you and with the crude words that spilled out of Johnny and Colin–you could feel that tension building up in your lower stomach want to unravel.

Johnny brushed your hair off your sweat covered forehead with his hand, then leaned down to give you a slight peck on your temple, “C'mon sweetheart, go ahead and cum for me–I know you want to.”, Johnny said with a teasing coo.

Andy then reached up to rub your clit, and that was your breaking point. You no longer could hold in that burning sensation, so you just let it go–feeling your body unravel all at once felt like heaven–you must have not noticed the pornographic moan you let out because the chatter of how ‘pretty she sounds’ came to topic.

As soon as your senses finally came back, you didn’t feel loved or cared about at all. You felt dirty, used even. As you lay on the couch with teary eyes, trying to keep up with the sound of your heartbeat, just so you could try to focus on anything other than the situation you're currently in.

Andy snapped you out of your train of thought when you felt your body being set up to lean against Johnny. Suddenly feeling exposed you bring your knees up to your chest while trying to somewhat cover your exposed chest, but considering the only two bare naked people in the room are You and Johnny–it didn’t seem to surprise you.

Andy then grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, so your gaze was meeting his, then he said, “You did really good honey, I know that was scary, but you sat there and took it like a big girl. Daddy’s so so proud of you.”, he then leaned in to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

Even though his praises did make you feel a little better–you couldn’t stop shaking–the heater broke at the end of spring, so it was always extra chilly in your house. That's why you always wore comfy sweaters around.

Johnny seemed to notice how much you were shivering when he wrapped his arms around you because he said, “You cold baby? Don’t you know I’m a human furnace?”, he asked with a teasing tone. You responded with a small, “yes..I’m cold”, and Johnny seemed to take that as a pass to go ahead and pull you on top of his lap while he adjusted his arms to wrap around you more tightly.

You didn’t even notice Andy left because he came back with what looks like one of his cable knit sweaters and a fresh pair of panties, then he made his way over to you with long strides before kneeling in front of you.

“Daddy got you a nice cozy sweater and fresh pair of panties for his special girl.” Andy said softly as he pulled the overly large sweater over your head and pulled the cotton panties up your legs.

Colin cooed teasingly at your flushed face before saying, “aww, that was nice sweetheart, what do you say?”, you looked down at your lap and fidgeted with your fingers–trying to hide your flushed face.

Andy chuckled before responding for you, “Don’t tease her, she’s just a little shy right now. Isn’t that right honey?”, you look at Andy's smug expression before nodding.

He kisses your forehead before standing back up and sitting by you and Johnny, “That reminds me, your uncle Lloyd is coming tomorrow to stay for a while–you don’t know him honey, but-”, Andy gets cut off by Johnny when he quickly responds with, “That fucker is NOT my uncle. Why is that asshole coming anyway?” Andy rolls his eyes at his banter before he continues.

“Well, I’ve been telling him about our little angel, and he wants to come and see her.”, Andy says sternly. This conversation between them both seemed to make you perk up because, who is Lloyd? Why has he been telling this man about you?

Andy seemed to sense your concern, so he pulled you onto his lap, “Oh honey, there's no reason to be worried...”, he said before he adjusted you on his lap, so you were straddling his legs, then he rested his hands on your hips.

Andy then continued, “Lloyd really likes you sweet girl, so there would be no reason for him to be mean to you unless you’re not very nice, but I won’t have to worry about that because you're a good girl, right?” You paused, trying to process his words, but the expression on his face said, ‘give me an answer now.’ so you just nodded.

“Words angel, I wanna hear that pretty voice.” Andy said sternly, so you responded “Yeah”, you could tell that wasn’t what he was looking for, but he seemed to settle thankfully.

Colin then pitched in, “don’t believe him baby, that guy is a total asshole–he’s probably into some fucked up shit-” Andy cut him off quickly before scolding, “Stop that, you’re scaring her..remember you’re in my house Colin.”

This new information makes you nervous. Scared actually. What if Colin was right–just like he was right about Andy. All you felt right now was overwhelmed and afraid, you never asked for any of this, so now you could only assume this random man was gonna come here and do worse things to you.

You could feel a sob bubbling up in your throat, chest tight, heart racing, you don’t know why you felt embarrassed about the tears that were running down your face. They are the ones doing this to you, it's not your fault, but you couldn’t seem to think when you were hyperventilating and a fresh rack of sobs coming out all at once.

Andy tried to calm you down, rubbing your back and squeezing you in a tight hug did little to cease how upset you felt, “sweetheart, look at me.”, you couldn’t think all you could do was trying to get away from him–you hated how he touched you–how safe he made you feel, how gentle he was. You hated this but you couldn’t help but look at him when he told you too.

“Such a good girl..I know you’re overwhelmed honey, but nothing bad is ever gonna happen to you when you’re here. Lloyd is not gonna hurt you because he knows he needs to be gentle with you.” Andy said as he pressed your head into the crook of his neck.

Johnny leaned over to rub your back and pressed a kiss on the top of your head before saying, “Colin was just exaggerating baby, he’s not that much of an asshole.” Johnny then got up and stretched his arms above his head before continuing, “In fact, he’ll probably treat you just like his little princess, I bet you’ll end up loving it as much as he does.” he ends as he walks away with a yawn.

You could hear a distant “goodnight”, being called, but you just laid against Andy’s chest–listening to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke once more, “He’s right honey, everything is gonna be okay..I’d explain more but you look sleepy, you wanna sleep with daddy tonight? I give great bedtime cuddles.”

You yawned tiredly before snuggling into his chest more and closing your eyes, letting sleep take you over. Andy chuckled before peppering a bunch of kisses on your face, “Alright cutie, let’s get you to bed. Goodnight Colin don’t say anymore shit like that again.” he said while giving a glare to Colin.

“Night’ Mr. B, tell my baby I said goodnight.” Colin responded with a smug grin.

Andy gave him a groan and carried you bridal style to his bedroom–setting your sleeping figure under the duvet. He walked over to his side of the bed, sliding his shirt off while watching your sleepy figure. Andy slid under the blanket beside you and reached over your head to turn the lap off. He pulled you closer to his chest and kissed the crown of your head.

Andy yawned quietly, “goodnight honey, I love you.”

Tag list.

@xycnsstuff

@wolfsmom1

@abbyyourlocalmilf

@jeelsinha

A/n: its currently 12am, sorry I took such a long time for part 3, enjoy! (let me know if you would like to be tagged.)

[sarahowritesostucky]

Sexuality Profile: Andy

The main thing about Andy is that he likes power and control.

Not in a hardcore BDSM way, mind you. Oh no. He's a true Daddydom.

Mature Content below the break. Consume Responsibly.

He really loves to just have you be his good girl who's always going to listen to him and be sweet and needy for him. His wife is frigid, so he loves having a woman who is always ready and willing. He likes feeling wanted for a change.

So he's definitely the most "Daddy" of all your five guys, and he knows it because you tell him all the time. You call him Daddy waaay more than you do Ari, Lloyd, Kemp, or Bucky.

When you're with him, he's in complete control - and that's how you like it! He takes over so you don't have to worry about anything. Gone is the usually calculating, business savvy sex worker. In her place? A vulnerable, sweet girl.

You wouldn't characterize it as "age play," what you two do. It's more so just focused on a power imbalance dynamic: He's the smart, in charge, capable one; and you're the innocent, helpless, dumb(ish) one. It's a persona you fall into for him, and yet it doesn't feel like 'acting' at all. You love the escape of getting to be a sweet dumb thing for him.

Andy and Kemp are the only ones of your five who are married (Ari's divorced). Now, Kemp is just completely disengaged from his wife, but you don't get the sense that he minds her.

Andy minds Laurie. He is very unhappily married and would prefer to be divorced, but the stakes are too high (finances, custody of his son). There is ... something else, though.

You don't know what, but there is something dark in his past that Laurie knows about and holds over him. Andy once did something to protect his son Jacob, and you have your suspicions, but he shuts down whenever you ask (so you don't ask).

Whatever is is, you know he's stuck living in a house with a woman he hates.

So for Andy in particular, you really do serve as an escape. You're everything his wife Laurie isn't: submissive, kind, caring, young and sweet, accommodating, and sensual.

He's been diminished and emasculated by his wife for so long, you're like a breath of fresh air to him. You're a place he can come to relax, indulge ...

... and even vent. Out of all your daddies, Andy is the most into spanking.

And for him it's not just a spur of the moment kind of thing. Sure, he'll give you a playful swat during sex, but he also has rules and discipline set in place for you and will calmly punish you with spankings when you fall short.

One of your favorite places to be is over his lap on the bed, his steady voice asking if you're comfortable "before we get started," his hands caressing lightly all over your bum before that first, dedicated smack comes down.

Andy knows how to spank, and his big, masculine hands can pack a wallop. He'll usually let you grind, or situate a vibrating toy under you while he spanks. It's only if you've really done bad that he'll spank you without any stimulation at all.

Now, you like smacks during sex just fine, but you never imagined that you could get so wet from grinding your clit against your daddy's thigh while he punishes you.

You've discovered a lot of things about yourself, thanks to your five daddies, and with Andy the biggest realization you've come to is that you crave having a big, strong, kind and bossy man in control of you. In fact you thrive on it. After so many years of hustling and being "that boss bitch," you're tired of the grind and of having to constantly look out for yourself because no one else will. Andy is a relief to you, in that way.

You call him Daddy a lot, and sometimes "Mr. Barber," when you're being saucy or playful (and it's an instant boner from him when you do).

Andy's favored pet names for you are "babygirl," "sweetheart," and "little one/little miss."

He thrives on making you feel safe and cared for. He loves that protector and provider role. Whenever something upsets you with one of the other guys, he can always tell (and he'll spank, tickle, or edge you until he finally gets the answers out of you.)

Andy and you have a game you play. You'll snuggle together on the couch and you'll both let your hands roam as you watch the movie, teasing and touching and rubbing each other until the end credits roll. It's it's own weird little sort of tantra: playful, teasing, and guaranteed to have you dripping wet by the end of the movie.

Like Ari, Andy is a big fan of morning sex. He almost always wakes up hard, and he loves to just roll you over and press you down into the bedding, plastered to your back with the lube bottle in hand and coaxing you to just close your eyes and "Let Daddy put it in."

Of all your guys, Andy spends the most time at your apartment. He has a desk there because he works so much, and you have a semi-regular routine of sitting beneath his desk and cockwarming/playing with him. It's a favorite activity of yours (especially during his teleconferences).

Andy loves your womanly body, and he's always grabbing and groping you--even parts that you get squirmy and whiny about when he does (he doesn't care he does it anyway).

He loves to see you in lacy, girlish, innocent things--again, not so much an ageplay thing as it is a sweetness and power imbalance thing. Andy's wife refuses to dress up in "silly things" for him, but you are more than happy to accommodate him.

Since the two of you spend so much time just being snuggly together in the apartment, you always either wear cute and tempting loungewear/pajamas, or else very short skirts/dresses with flirtatious thigh high stockings.

Andy was the first of the Daddies that you met. And he's very typical of the sort of "unhappily married and seeking affection"-type clients you used to get a lot of.

He was much more unhappy then and was more controlling and slightly rougher with you for those first few months, but he's mellowed out the longer he's had you and gotten his needs met.

Fun fact: when you first met him, you were considering getting a labiaplasty, but he absolutely put his foot down and forbid it, because he loves that you're "an outie" as he calls it. He told Ari this information, and now the two of them both make a habit of paying extensive attention to playing with your lips when they go down on you, making their point that you'd better never even think about it.

He likes having anal with you. But since you actively dislike it, he only asks for it on very special occasions, and when he can't have that he still likes to rim you and finger you as part of foreplay. When you do let him, he spends an obscene amount of time getting you ready and making sure you've cum at least once before he puts it in.

His favorite position is you on top to start (because he knows you cum fast that way), and him on top to finish.

And his one fantasy that he hasn't yet confided/fulfilled? He wants to have a threesome with you and Ari. (He'd really love to DP, but he knows that's not likely to happen, because you've told him about Ari's ... size.)

And a secondary fantasy: he wouldn't mind cucking Lloyd - he hates that guy.

If there's something you want to know about Sugar Baby and any of the five daddies, feel free to shoot me an ask!

Five Daddies Imagines Masterlist

Masterlist

[writing-for-marvel]

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

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

Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

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

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

Word count: 700

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

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

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

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

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

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

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

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

The root of his envy was insecurity.

And he was green with envy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[rainydayandmondays]

Secret Santa is Coming....

Summary: Time for the Secret Santa gift exchange and Andy knows you deserve only the best gift. And who says it can’t be a gift for both of you.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, female masturbation, voyeurism, Daddy kink, slight non-con

Author’s Note: A follow up to the Thanksgiving Potluck. I don’t think Andy is okay with just a one-shot with his sweet girl.

“Mr. Barber.”

Andy looked up to see you standing just inside his doorway. Your hands dropping to be held in front of you, he watched as you momentarily shifted from foot to foot. You were uneasy and that should never be how you feel around him. He dropped the affidavit he had been reading back to his desk, before rolling his shoulders, and sitting back in his chair. Something had you skittish and he wouldn’t have that.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

You bow your head at the nickname, your bashful reaction to it would never get old with him. However, he did try to use it sparingly. Waiting until you two were mostly alone, he would softly say it and watch you smile before catching yourself.

“Can I talk to you about something?” You looked at him, your brow furrowing as you waited for his response. Something was wrong. He could feel his own unease build up the longer he watched you, your fingers now fidgeting in front of you.

“Is that even a question? Of course, you can,” He gestured to the seat in front of him.

You seemed to loosen up at his response, your hands dropping the gripped hold you had them in. Turning to close the door behind you, you gave him a small hopeful smile before taking the offered seat.

He continued to sit back, despite wanting to inch closer to you. You were calmer now and he didn’t want to break you from that peace that you had regained, “What’s going on?”

You took a quick inhale before asking your question, “Are you the one leaving coffee on my desk every morning?"

The coffee. You knew about the coffee. After Thanksgiving, he hadn’t wanted to give up the feeling he felt watching you enjoy him so much. He embraced the flashes of you licking your lips after finishing his potluck offering. They would keep him busy popping up over the long holiday weekend.

Laurie had ordered in catering for their family meal. Things were starting to pick up for her at work as they entered the holiday season. Buying everything and then cooking the turkey dinner wasn’t something she was willing to take on. Instead, they had pulled the plastic containers from the takeaway bag, quickly heating them up before sitting down to the saddest Thanksgiving meal. Thoughts of you were the only thing that pulled him out his funk to start pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic.

He decided that weekend that he would find a way to share that with you again. Your friend may have thrown out that thinly veiled threat, but he would find a way around it. Returning to the office after the holiday, he decided to keep his ritual to his nightly shower. No more parking garage camera feed for your noisy friend to make noise about. He found if he worked late enough, by the time he got home, there would be no one up to ask why he took a tumbler with him to shower.

Filling up his trusty tumbler every night, he would grab it from the refrigerator each morning as he waved goodbye to a wife and son who seemed to be more enthralled with their phones than anything he was doing. Heading to the local coffee shop after his morning swim, he would sit in his car adding his special ingredient to the small light roast brew with double espresso shots and half and half.

Making sure to get in as early as possible, he would leave the cup of coffee on your desk before hustling to his office. He had done so for the last week, a smirk lighting up his face when you brought the cup to the weekly team debrief for the latest cases. But now you knew it was him. He should have known you would figure it out.

Trying his best to not react to your question, he pulled on all his skills to keep the best poker face. He could come up with a reason for it that wouldn’t return you to that ball of nerves that had stood in his doorway.

He cleared his throat before responding, “You caught me. I know the late nights you have been putting in. That can’t be easy to do and then only to go home and help your parents. Figured you might need something to look forward to.”

You hummed at his explanation, looking down before returning your gaze to him, “That’s very kind, Mr. Barber. Sweet even. It’s just…people like to talk. I’ve worked so hard. And I don’t want anyone to think that I got anything because of…because of anything else other than work.”

Your eyes had continued to flit between him and your hands in your lap as you spoke. He could tell that you had thought through your small speech, probably even prepped yourself on your drive in. He also knew that one of the office gossips had gotten to you. He was selfish and he wanted the moments with you but not at the risk of you feeling uncomfortable.

Leaning against the desk, he looked at you straight on, expressing as much empathy as possible, “Understood. No more coffees.”

Your shoulders finally came down from around your ears and you sighed, nodding back in thanks.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you replied before rising to walk towards his office door. He wanted to correct you. Remind you to call him Andy. However, he figured it was best not to push his luck. Watching you push the wrinkles from your skirt as you walked away, he called back to you, “I don’t want you worrying about this or what anyone may say, okay?”

Stopping to look over your shoulder, you reached to grab at your necklace, “I won’t.”

“Promise me?” He smirked as you continued to twiddle with the gold chain.

“I promise,” you answered as he nodded for you to leave.

With the click of his door closing, he looked down at his desk, saving your promise to his memory. He’ll use it later tonight.

Holding the slip of paper in his hands, your name neatly scrawled across it, he smiled to himself. A couple of people in the office decided to put together a Secret Santa exchange. Apparently, the Thanksgiving potluck was such a success when it came to team building, the higher ups agreed to the next holiday activity. Even had HR sign off on it.

Andy had been in court when the bag of names had been passed around. He didn’t give it much thought. Since your stop in his office a week ago, he had kept his distance. It wasn’t something that he wanted in the slightest. But he was willing to respect your genuine worry about office gossip. No more tumblers, no more early coffee runs. The research requests still happened but always through the weekly team huddle.

However, now seeing your name chosen for him, he had to smile to himself. Of course, it would be you that he would get. Of course, him trying to keep his distance would mean you finding a way back to him.

He sat down, leaning his chin in his hands, “Okay, sweet girl. I understand.”

The office had pretty much cleared out with most people starting their holiday vacations. The last few streamers from the small Christmas luncheon had been balled up and chucked in the bin, when Andy made his way out to the bull pin. You were waving off the last of the other paralegals as you collected your stuff to make your own way home.

“Hey sweetheart,” he saw you jump a little before turning to him.

You had worn a red Christmas sweater with a white bow handstitched along the collar. Your normal pencil skirt had been replaced by a pair of black slacks. And although not his favorite, the pants had done wonders for your ass. He had watched as you moved around the office putting up the last-minute decorations, only to take them down.

“Hi Andy.” You replied turning and looking up at him from your office chair. He caught the small smile that wanted to break free at your utterance of his name. That was good, you were comfortable around him again.

Clearing his throat, he brought the gift bag from behind his bag, presenting it to you, “Merry Christmas.”

“So, you were my Secret Santa,” you smirked looking at the packed gift bag he had hastily bought from the Walgreens down the street.

“It’s a three-part gift,” he answered, nodding towards it and urging you to open it.

Taking the stuffed tissue paper from the top you reached in pulling out a pink tumbler. You let out a small giggle, “For my coffee?”

He fully smiled this time, before shrugging his shoulders and pointing to the remaining items in the gift bag. Putting down the tumbler, you turned back to the bag, reaching the bottom of it, you pulled out a wooden paper weight. Carved into the center was the seal for Boston College Law School. Your brow creased as you tried to piece together the meaning of the gift. He watched as you finally looked back to him, your look pleading for an answer.

“That’s the second part. An old college buddy of mine is the registrar. I told him about a paralegal that had aced her LSATs, had helped on numerous high profile ADA cases, but hadn’t had the chance to enroll yet.” He looked on as the puzzle started to come together in your mind. Your brow creased further as tears started to line your eyelashes.

“They have grant funds set aside every year for students that display great potential. He took care of everything. You can enroll whenever you’re ready. There will be a space for you. That’s the third part.” He whispered the last of his explanation. The tears that had been threatening to fall now ran fully down your cheeks.

“Oh my God. Thank you.” You jumped from your chair, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

Initially taken by surprise, he hesitated momentarily before letting his body relax into your hold. His hands landing on your back as you sniffled into his dress shirt and whispered quiet thank you’s in his ear.  He threw up his own thanks at the office being empty. Something tells him that you may have restrained yourself more with an audience.

Starting to feel you pull away, he resisted the urge to cling to you. It had been a while since Andy had a genuine hug. He had been mostly regulated to side hugs with Laurie. Every once in a while, it would include a kiss to the cheek. And Jacob, well he was fully rooted in his teen years and any idolization that he might have had for his dad had been long gone. He would only get quick nods of recognition from over the top of the phone from his son. But now with you, he could feel the heat of your body, the small catches in your breath as you tried to regulate your outburst. This was something he couldn’t give up.

“I’m so sorry. That’s not very professional of me. It’s just…this means so much to me.”

Your tearful smile at him tempted him to bring you back into his embrace. To just hold you as all the happy tears flowed out of you.

You giggled again, shaking your head, “I have to tell my parents. I have to…”

He nodded at you, seeing all the possibilities run through your mind. He had opened doors for you. Had given you a better future. Had put that delighted smile on your face. He had done that. You quickly began to pack up your remaining things, yesterday’s brief stuffed in with your laptop. Turning to him again, you smiled again grabbing onto his forearm and squeezing.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas Andy.”

“Can you believe it, Jake? I can enroll whenever I’m ready. There’s a space just waiting for me.” You talked animatedly to your best friend as you placed the carved paperweight on your bookcase. It would sit perfect with your old undergrad books and picture of Jake and you from your graduation.

“That’s amazing, Ace! So, he just called a friend and got this all sorted out?” Jake asked facetiming you from his room.

He had suspicions about your kind of boss since before meeting him Thanksgiving. You had mentioned how many late nights you had been spending at the office recently and how walking out at night gave you the heebie-jeebies. The protector within him woke up immediately at that, ready to offer to pick you up if he needed to. You would never ask him to do that yourself. That’s when you brought up Andy Barber and how he started walking you out.

It hadn’t taken Jake long to dig up information on the ADA. He had the white picket fence life, although there wasn’t too much about his past listed. That was the first red flag. Hacking into the courthouse’s camera feed had been relatively easy. These older government buildings never bothered upping their security.

Andy Barber always parked in one of the garage’s blind spots. That would be the second red flag. After you left, Andy wouldn’t be seen exiting until half an hour later. What could he possibly be doing in a parked car for thirty minutes? That was the final red flag.

“His friend is the registrar at the school. He was able to work it out. What?” Sitting down on your bed, you leaned back looking at Jake on your phone. He was making his slightly worried puppy dog face.

“It’s just that’s a lot to get coordinated so fast.”

“Why can’t you just be happy for me, Jake?” You asked only to see Jake’s face immediately deflate. The worried puppy dog look morphing to kicked puppy. His eyes widening behind his glasses.

“Of course, I’m happy for you Ace. It’s just that you’re too trusting sometimes.”

“I’m not a child,” you grumbled back, and Jake wanted to jump through the phone and ease your anger.

“You’re not. You’re a person with a good heart that wants to believe the best in people,” he saw the crease in your brow ease as he spoke, “And that’s why I gotta look out for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your small smile at Jake’s statement. From the first moment he had run into on his skateboard, knocking both of you over in the quad in college, he had looked out for you.

“When do you come back?”

“Why? Do you already miss me?” You watched Jake wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, causing a round of giggles to erupt from you. He pretended to be hurt by your outburst before continuing, “Probably not until the new year.”

You hummed, sitting back up, Jake and you sat in silence as he watched the disappointment take over your expression. He searched for a way to get you to smile again when he heard the knock at the door. Quickly looking back at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing he had locked it.

“I gotta go, Ace.” He watched you nod a short okay, before finally getting up from your bed.

“I miss you.” “I miss you too, Jake.”

Andy sat down at the desk in his home office. Neck stretched back along the back of the chair, as he thought back on the last couple of hours since getting home. Walking in, he noticed all the lights were off, not even the Christmas tree in the den was lit. Disengaging the alarm, he made his way into the kitchen to see a sticky note stuck to the fridge. Laurie had to go back into the office to finalize the preparations for the end of the year gala, while Jacob spent the night at a friend’s. So much for family time.

Putting an order into the local Italian place, he went upstairs to change out of his work clothes. He contemplated jumping in the shower, until he heard the doorbell ring with his takeout. Turning on the tree in the den, he ate his pasta dish with only the twinkling Christmas lights on. What had his life become? What had his family become?

Dropping the to-go containers in the trash, he wandered back to his office. He thought about powering up his laptop and finishing the closing remarks for one of his cases, when he found the holiday favors that you had passed around the office this morning. Your red sweater on, you greeted everyone with such joy for the upcoming holiday. He couldn’t help but smile up at you, as you left the favor on his desk.

You were a sweetheart. His sweetheart. His sweet girl. He rubbed along his bottom lip as he remembered your reaction to his gift. The hug had surprised him. But fuck if he hadn’t loved every minute of it. He didn’t even mind the soft sniffling you made as your tears stained his tie. He had made those tears.

Opening his iPad, he logged into the recently downloaded program. Would you have already told everyone about what he had done for you? Would you have passed around the carved seal of your new school for everyone to admire? Would you have put it in a place of pride? He wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to check.

Finishing entering the credentials, he watched as his screen came to life and he saw your bedroom space. It was cheerful like you, with multiple pillows adorning your bed and bursts of color in the pictures you hung on your walls. He devoured the scene, greedily taking in everything he could see, when he heard the click of the bedroom door. The small camera was powerful and could zoom 10x but was stationary in the middle of the school seal.

He waited, hearing you hum a Christmas song along the with opening and closing of drawers off camera and the tossing of a bath towel on the bed. Finally making your way into view, he saw your silk two-piece set. The navy-blue pajama top with white piping along seams hugged your tits. Your free tits, there’s no way you were still wearing a bra with the way your nipples poked through. And the shorts that accompanied it, covered the curve of your ass, but he watched as they inched up as you started to turn down the bed.

He shifted in his seat as he set the iPad to lean against the monitor stand on his desk. Widening his legs and easing back into his chair, he adjusted himself. He hadn’t had a chance for his nightly ritual. But seeing you now, he was happy to see he would have new things to add to his memory. You always knew how to take care of him. His sweet girl.

After setting most of the pillows aside, you climbed into bed, reaching over for your earbuds and phone. He couldn’t tell what you were listening to but judging by the content smile on your face, it must be good. He watched as you closed your eyes, listening to whatever was piping through your earbuds. Reaching down, he rubbed himself through his pajama bottoms. Nothing too aggressive, just softest of touches. The kind he always imagined you would give him. Always delicate and soft at the start.

He sighed to himself as he watched you, “My sweet girl.”

Lost in the moment, he didn’t catch you shifting at first. However, looking back at the screen, he saw your hand move to your top. You let out a small sigh as your fingers started to flick at your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. He frantically sat up, engaging the zoom function to watch up close. Your nipples were amazing, and he knew given the chance he would lap at them, giving them little bites to see you squirm. Your eyes were closed, breathing harsher, as you played with your tits.

“Play with her tits, sweet girl. Show me how sensitive they are,” He whispered as he took full hold of himself. After hitting his fist on the underside of the desk, he pushed back from it to make room for his hand as he continued to slide up and down his shaft.  

He could hear the little sighs you were making as they started to get louder. He knew you would be vocal. You would tell him everything that made you feel good. Both your hands covered your tits while the buttons of your shirt lay open from where you had torn it open to get your hands in.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” He squeezed around the tip before breaking contact with the screen to spit down onto himself. At feel of his warm saliva, that winking eye dribbled out onto self.

Hearing shifting, he looked back to find you grabbing one of the pillows you hadn’t bothered to put aside. Now, what were you doing now? He watched as you grabbed the forgotten towel still at the foot of your bed. Placing the pillow in the middle of the bed, you draped the towel over it before swinging a leg over and straddling the setup.

“Fuck me. Take what you need, sweet girl.” He grunted as you started to rock back and forth on the pillow.

Your hips started a natural rhythm, one hand still pawing at your tit while the other held you steady on your perch. As he looked on, the more he dribbled out on his hand, and he finally reached down pushing his pants and underwear off. His ass was momentarily cold on the leather of the seat, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as you kept humping your pillow.

“Daddy.”

Andy nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard your whisper. Your bottom lip now caught between your teeth as you whined.

“Daddy is here. Fuck, I’m right here.” He fisted himself, finally dropping to grab onto his balls and rolling them in his palm.

“Daddy, please.” You mewled out your whimper and he had to grab tight at his base to avoid blowing his load right then and there. You were close, but fuck him, if he missed it by losing it first.

“What do you need, sweet girl? What do you need from daddy?”

“Daddy, I can’t.”

How could you answer him? You had to know. His sweet girl was so smart, she could figure anything out. You had to know he was here. That he could see you. That he was watching you. You were doing this for him.

“Yes, you can. Daddy says you can. I’ll even count down. Five.”

You stuttered slightly before picking up your pace again.

“Four.”

He tightened his grip, corkscrewing his hand on each trip up.

“Three.”

Your breathing was getting harsher as you brought down your other hand, using both to steady you as your hips rolled.

“Two.”

He was almost there. His balls had already started to pull up as he planted his feet to thrust into his fist.

“One. Come on, my sweet girl. Come for daddy.”

He nearly lost it, as you threw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent cry, and the rest of your body spasming. Fucking his hand, he watched as a gush of liquid flew out of you, wetting the towel beneath.

“Oh fuck. Such a good girl. Such a good, fucking sweet girl.”

Standing up, he aimed for the screen as he lost it on the image of his sweet girl squirting for him. He twitched and continued to rub out every ounce he had for her. For once, he didn’t think about it going to waste. It hadn’t, not with what you had given him tonight.

Bracing against the edge of the desk, he flopped back into his chair, as you rolled off your pillow completely drained.

“Thank you, daddy.” You gave one final whisper before peeling off your pajama shorts and grabbing the covers to go to sleep.

“You’re more than welcome, sweet girl. Rest now.”

Andy watched you snuggle into bed, returning to the woman he knew from the office. No longer the horned up, little one that just needed her daddy to take care of her. Taking a tissue from the console behind him, he wiped himself down before wiping the screen and desk. Pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up, he started to log out of the camera’s app, when a dialog box popped up, asking to save or delete recording.

He hesitated only for a moment, before clicking save.

Maybe these work holiday functions weren’t the worst thing in the world.

@sarahdonald87

@buckybarnesisdaddy

@theinheriteddutchess

@welp-heregoessomething

[anika-ann]

Underneath the Christmas Tree (A.B.)

Type: one-shot, drabble-ish, floof

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader WC: 1100

Summary: Your Christmas might not be perfect, but the person you celebrate with is.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw for allusions to smut, clichés and huge amount of fluff, mentions of insecurity in reader, celebrating Christmas

A/N: a little something to raise the holiday spirits, in the honour of @stargazingfangirl18 who slipped into many inboxes to spread the hoeliday cheer 💕I hope she and all of you can profit from a sweet moment with one mister B🎄// divider by @firefly-graphics

“You’re being a grinch,” he teased you lightly, thick arm wrapping around your waist from behind to keep you flush to his front.

You only frowned harder as you placed the single box under your Christmas tree. It looked absurd among the five boxes from your lovely devoted irritating fiancé – of course you’d be a little grinchy about it.

This Christmas was supposed to be perfect – because Andy Barber was and he deserved nothing less than that in return. You had prepared three presents for Andy in total – or you had tried so. Until the most important one, one you ordered and had custom-made took longer than expected. You ordered two months in advance, so proud of yourself for figuring out the gift for the man who stole your heart without intention of ever giving it back… and then came December, than half of it went, and then the day before Christmas Day arrived, ten a.m., three p.m., eight p.m. and since the clock was about to struck midnight, something told you your package wasn’t about to arrive in time. All your insecurities about deserving the wonderful man momentarily soothing you in his generous embrace resurfaced, making you feel inadequate and just… not enough.

So yeah, you were scowling a little. Especially since Andy was maybe not laughing at your misery, but was definitely at least slightly amused by the way you were expressing it.

“It was supposed to be perfect,” you echoed your thoughts wearily, feeling the stupid tears gather in your eyes. Dammit.

It was just… Andy truly was your Prince Charming. Your one. A kind, caring man with the biggest heart you had ever encountered, a bit dorky, but with maturity most men at any age couldn’t even dream of, and with sweet, almost gentlemanly ways that went out of the window once the door of your bedroom closed behind you. Assuming you’d make it as far as the bedroom. Or even into your house.

He deserved everything that was good in this world and more and there were times when you doubted you were the one able to give it to him.

You felt him smile against your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss there, pulling you back from your thoughts – and to fall on your ass – to sit between his legs on the floor with a tiny yelp on your part.

“It is. ‘cause you are, sweetheart,” he whispered to your ear, causing you to side-glance him at his sappy ways.

A soft smile was playing on his lips indeed, serene face illuminated by the warm lights on your Christmas tree, eyes shining with contentment.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, suddenly at peace. Damn, he was gorgeous. Ruffled hair, pretty lips framed by his perfectly trimmed beard, white tee and simple grey sweats, like a god of domesticity and happiness in the most ordinary moments. How could you protest, how could you doubt anything at all when he was like that?

“I love you,” you said instead, earning a soft peck to your lips, a whispered declaration in return. “I just… I was really excited to give you the present you deserve.”

Andy’s plush lips stayed but a breath away, closing the distance again at your admission, last remnants of your gloomy mood evaporating as he kissed you again, this time slowly, deeply, loving.

Then, he inched away, your eyes fluttering open only to meet the mischievous sparkle in his eye.

Your heart skipped a beat. Ah-oh.

“What-“ He reached for the single gift you had placed under the three, pulling at the bow and stealing it for himself. “Andy!”

He laughed at your scandalized expression, taking your left hand – the one adorned by a charming ring he had placed there barely a month ago – and swiftly wrapped the ribbon around your wrist, tying another perfect bow.

Your shoulders sagged, your face probably revealing as much of your exasperation as adoration.

“Here. My perfect gift, in all its glory.”

“You, mister, are an old sap.”

He grinned. “And yet, you agreed to marry me.”

Your gaze flicked between the bow and the gorgeous diamond on your finger, the widest of smiles tugging at your lips. “Yeah, what was I even thinking-“

“Hey!” he protested, deft fingers sneaking under your silky bathrobe in a vicious attack at your most ticklish spots, having you try to squirm from his hold – only accomplishing changing your positions until he trapped you under him lied flat on the fluffy carpet, his weight on you as warm as his gaze.

“See? My perfect gift, now even lying under the Christmas tree, all mine to unwrap. I’m a lucky man, aren’t I?”

His fingers sneaked lower, brushing over your hips and to your thigh, his hand freezing. The sweet warm gaze turned heated, drawn to your lips as your tongue peeked out to wet them. You felt your face flush with heat, even as your chest puffed with pride.

Cat got his tongue now, did it?

“Sweetheart?”

“There’s… I thought we might cheat a little. I didn’t wrap this one,” you admitted, a little disappointed when his weight disappeared and he only straddled your thighs – but the feeling was quickly replaced by satisfaction when Andy tugged, peeling your robe off, eyes feasting on your body adorned with the new lingerie you had bought, your nipples instantly hardening under the see-though material under his appreciative gaze.

“So…” you hummed innocently, fully aware of the way his sweats barely hid his growing arousal, just like your excuse of panties couldn’t hope to hide the growing wetness of your core, “what do you think?”

Andy’s lip curled in a smirk that had you stomach somersault, his eyes dark as coal, soft fingertips trailing over the soft curve of your breast, brushing your nipple with clear intent.

“Well, sweetheart, I think you just almost made it to the naughty list,” he mused, his other hand toying with the little ribbons on the side of your panties, lightly puling on it until fell apart smoothly.

Your breath caught in your throat, heat pooling in your belly as his fingertips followed the pattern of lace above your mound.

“Almost?”

Andy’s smirk was positively devious as he leaned down to press a kiss to your cleavage, dextrous fingers undoing the bow on your other hip as well, baring you to his greedy touch.

“But when I’m done with all the things I want to do you, sweetheart, when you let me do every filthy thing I have on my mind now… I promise you that’s you’ll be right on the top it.”

And Andy Barber was a true gentleman; when he made a promise, he always always delivered on it.

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Again, many thanks to Siri - and happy peaceful holidays to us all 💕

Thank you for reading 🥰

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 7

Summary: Andy is such a daddy

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

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

Word Count: 7.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“JUICE, mommy!”

“Suedey?”

“UICE!”

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

“Chess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me, too! Na Na, me go!”

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

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

“Chess!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doe!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Audi, breathe.”

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

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

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

“Ransom!” Andy says under his breath.

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

“Does he still bother you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re at a pre-k center.”

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

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

“Yup.”

“Is that your crisis?”

“Yup.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Too many complications. It isn’t fair.

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

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

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

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

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

“She wanted clam chowder?”

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you feel?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Not in the shower.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t start that shit again.”

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

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

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

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

“You play too much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next

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

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

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

[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

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[babyjakes]

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

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | massage

pairing | massage therapist!andy barber x reader

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

word count | 897

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

okay but 😳 getting a massage from andy? 😏

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[loeyslover]

Liaison

TW: Obsessive behavior, infidelity, power dynamic (boss x employee), mentions of drink spiking.

The ache in the arches of your feet became more present with each step you took into your office, finally breathing a sigh of relief when you took a seat. Your hand reached for the neatly filed resignation letter you'd prepared on a whim last night, skimming through the New Times Roman font printed, trying to find errors before you presented it to your boss.

You knew Andy would be anything but content to see you go, you couldn't deny you felt the same way. After a tiring year of internship you'd finally found the place to call a second home; a paralegal position with District Attorney Andy Barber. Things had appeared to go smoothly, getting commended for doing an incredible job with very little experience. There had been no paralegal before you who could understand Andy's way of working the way you did, nobody could meet his expectations. You like to think you met them a little too good that night, hence your current position.

You feel a slight burning in your core and your breath hitches as you remember that night. The city mayor's annual party started out on a good note, you'd met some of the biggest names in the city and tried to network as much as possible, an eager mind never resting. Still, you never strayed from Andy, keeping close to him the entire night as you were seated together. The lingering looks and soft touches going unnoticed by the alcohol creeping in your system, the wine glass in your hand refilled a few too many times.

You can still remember the way he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist for the group photo, the phantom touch sliding down further as the photographer retreated. The rest of the night was a blur of hushed moans and wet kisses, only realizing what had happened when you woke up in your boss' arms, your left hand on his chest, displaying the diamond ring on your finger.

You rushed out quickly, putting your clothes on and leaving without offering him another glance. The entire Sunday night was spent typing the resignation letter, knowing it was impossible to continue working with the same man you slept with while your husband was away at work. You'd have to build the courage to tell him what happened and exactly why you resigned, but for now the matter at hand was breaking the news to Andy.

The sound of your heels clacking on the floor as you walked to Andy's office created a pit in your stomach the closer you got, and you took a breath in as you knocked softly on the closed door. "Come in!" he yelled, his voice straining. You open the door, his eyes immediately looking up at the sound of the door opening. The baby blue orbs meet yours and he opens his mouth to speak, "Are you okay there, sweetheart? You're looking a little pale," he says, offering a slight smile.

"We need to talk, Andy," you said sternly, taking a seat. "We do, actually. I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to after, you know. When I woke up you were gone, I didn't get a chance to tell you how amazing it was," he said, a slight smirk appearing on his face. "Andy, Saturday night was a mistake. I was drunk, and had no rationale in my system but wine. I'm married, and I don't wanna ruin my marriage over this. So, I brought you my resignation letter, it felt better to do it in person," you say, putting the letter on his desk.

His eyebrows furrow and the once baby blue orbs darken, a scowl appearing, "Your what?" he asks. "Andy there's no way I can work with you, not after this. If I want to fix what's left of my marriage, I have to do this," you say, staring at the scattered papers on his desk as he reads over the content of your letter. "You really think you can do this? That you can just up and leave as you please? Sweetheart, there's a contract binding you to me," he says, his tone stern.

You stare at him blankly, a confused look on your face, "What are you talking about? There's no legalities involved with you and I," you respond, scrunching your face in question. "You're telling me my best paralegal didn't read over the contract she signed? Sweetheart, you didn't read any of the papers the firm gave you when I hired you? You signed your life to me, there's no escaping me," he said, his voice deepening.

"Those were typical work papers, Andy. Of course I went over them, you're playing some sort of sick trick on me, and it's not working," you say, shaking your head at his remarks. "Your internships never taught you to read fine print? Because you agreed to become mine in those papers," he said.

You straighten up in your chair, "I'm not yours, Andy. I don't know what impression that night gave you, but there's nothing between you and I. I'm married, and I'm gonna fix this mistake I made in my marriage." Andy lets out a mocking laugh, "Sweetheart, there's nothing left to fix in that marriage. I promised I'd make you mine the moment I saw you walk into my office and I'm not letting some degenerate prick you call your husband or a resignation letter stop me."

You feel a chill creeping up your spine, sitting up from the chair, "You are insane, Andy. You're my boss, what you are doing isn't right," you say, Andy jolting from his chair and rounding the corner to tightly hold your wrists in place, pushing his body against your own. "Sweetheart, love doesn't make you insane. I didn't go through all the trouble to spike your drinks and legally bind you to me just so you can decide to walk out on me, you don't do that. You won't do that."

[cockslutpadalecki]

But The Flesh Is Always Weak

Summary: It’s been a week since Andy broke things off, but to you, it feels like a lifetime.

Characters: Professor!Andy Barber x Student!Reader.

Words: 3K.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, possessive behaviour, unhinged behaviour, gaslighting, manipulation, a face slap, throat grabbing, hate sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), forced orgasm, throat fucking, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: The last visit to these two… well, for now. Thought I’d had better get round to posting this! You can read the rest of their story here. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

It’s only been a week since Andy broke things off, citing, “You should be dating boys your own age,” but it feels like a lifetime. A lifetime spent in hell. 

Every passing minute hurts. Every waking thought is plagued by his words and his touch on your skin. You drive yourself crazy, crying to the point of exhaustion before you wake up and do it all over again. 

You can’t eat; you can’t sleep. Your chest aches with every breath you take without him, and quite often as you clutch at it in the midst of another breakdown, you wonder if dying from a broken heart is possible. 

You shuffle through each day like a zombie, mindless with no real destination in mind— just wandering around waiting for something to distract you. 

It’s not until you get an email from him nine days in— addressed not only to you, but the Dean— that the agony seems to lessen slightly at the sight of his name. 

“I’m reaching out as you haven’t been to class for the past week and a half. I’m growing concerned for your wellbeing as this is just not like you. Please get in touch as soon as possible.”

It becomes an olive branch that you obsess over, desperately trying to seek out any hidden message he could be attempting to send. But after days of searching, you have nothing to show for your efforts and you begin to resent him. 

Anger bubbles up in place of your heartache— a strange sense of still needing him like you need air, but at the same time, wishing you could hurt him just as badly as he has hurt you. 

You can’t believe he has the audacity to show concern like he’s not solely responsible for shattering your world into a million tiny irreparable pieces, without a shred of noticeable apathy.

-

The driving force that propels you to attend his class surprises even you. You wake before your alarm, eager to dress in the outfit you excitedly picked the night before. Your stomach flutters as you walk through campus, feeling the most clear-headed you have in days. You can’t wait to see him. 

You feel a little giddy at the prospect of seeing evidence of the breakup on his face— perhaps red-rimmed eyes or melancholy preventing his smile from reaching his lips, but he somehow looks better now than before.

He doesn’t bat an eyelid when you slink into the hall while he’s mid-speech. He barely acknowledges your presence when you hand him your overdue essay; a secret love note slipped in between the pages just like you used to do. 

But what stings the most is that he doesn’t stop you from leaving when class is over. It’s like you don’t exist. Like the past nine months meant nothing, along with the litany of promises he’s already broken. 

He’s doing fine and you’re not? How is that fair? your mind screams as you glance over your shoulder, catching Rebecca hovering around his desk like a common house fly, buzzing around shit. 

You pause in the doorway, your stomach dropping like lead when Andy finally approaches her, and places his hand delicately on her arm.

And as he flashes her a wide grin, all of the momentum inside you deflates— the hurt and pain he has caused you morphs into pure rage.

-

The following evening, you know he’ll be alone at home. Five times you try to talk yourself out of going, but the overriding consensus eventually wins— he won’t be able to turn you away on his own doorstep. You just want to talk to him. 

Maybe ask if he’s replaced you with Rebecca yet. 

You pull up outside his neighbors’ and switch off the engine, gathering up the courage to get out when you notice movement at the front door. Andy steps outside, but he’s not alone. 

You’ve only seen her— his wife— in photographs, and you actually hate that she’s more beautiful in person. Part of you wonders why Andy would betray her, but then you remember all of the horror stories he would tell you. 

Her beauty is only skin deep. 

From the things you know about their relationship— how strained it is— it surprises you when he wraps his arm around her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her hair as they walk to his car. They’re laughing, smiling without a care in the world. From this vantage point, they look and act like newlyweds. You feel sick as you keep watching, noticing the way he gently pats her ass when she climbs into the passenger seat. 

The same passenger seat you’ve sat in countless times on drives back from secret trysts in dingy motel rooms, while your cunt still throbs.

Just before he gets into the car, he looks over his shoulder and for a wild moment, you swear he locks eyes with you from across the street.

-

He’s brought her here. The same place you used to have dinner. For a moment it feels like a knife wound to the heart that he would have the audacity to share this with her, but then you realise he has to be sending you a message. He must know you’ve followed him and he’s trying to communicate with you covertly so as not to draw attention to it.

Your stomach flutters, feeling a heavy sense of relief wash over you. 

He still cares. He still wants you.

For an hour, you sit in the parking lot before you regret drinking so much soda on your way here, needing desperately to pee. You know you could go to the mall across the street, but your feet pull you towards the restaurant before you can stop them. 

You make your way to the restroom, careful to avoid their table, and just as you’re about to leave, you spot Andy making his way towards you. Your heart leaps into your chest and you double back, waiting for the moment he’ll come bursting in, overwhelmed with joy at the sight of you. 

Nothing but silence follows, except for the dull thud of the men’s door opening and closing. 

Naughty. He wants you to go to him. 

Giggling, you sneak out of the women’s and push open the door to the men’s restroom, confused a little when you don’t spot Andy at the urinals. You’re about to retreat when you hear his familiar whistle, remembering all the mornings after the night before where you’d wake up to the sound of him in the en suite, whistling his favorite tune. 

He knows you’re listening. Dropping breadcrumbs in the hopes you’ll follow the trail right to his feet. And as you slip through the small gap between the door and frame, you hungrily swallow down every piece.

-

You wait until he’s finished in the stall before making yourself known. You don’t want to frighten him but as he begins to turn in the small space, ready to leave, he spots you in the doorway and nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“Jesus, what the fuck!” he half shouts, half whispers. 

“Oh god, I missed you,” you gush. Andy stares wide-eyed at you when you rush towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You inhale deeply and revel in his familiar smell, the scent enveloping you like a hazy dream. It feels so good to be so close to him again. Pulling back, you gaze up at him before rising onto your tiptoes, preparing to place a kiss on his lips. 

He quickly intervenes, pushing you away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you so I went to your office, but you weren’t there so I thought I’d go by your house,” you reply simply, like he’s just asked you what two plus two is. 

“Th-that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 

You shrug. “I saw you getting in the car, so I followed you.”

“Why would you do that?” 

“I wanted to see where you were going, silly,” you giggle. “Bet you couldn’t imagine my surprise when you brought her to our place,” you add a little sharply.

“Actually, I used to come here…” he pauses before continuing with, “y’know, before.”

The metaphorical knife in your chest twists at his words, but you manage to recover quickly. 

“It’s okay,” you smile, “I can let that go.” 

You reach out for his hand, loving the softness, but inexplicably rough of his skin on yours. He allows it for a moment, running his thumb over yours before snatching it away. 

“You can’t be here.” 

“Afraid she’ll catch us?” you sidle up to him with a cute laugh. “Is this a new thing you want us to try?” Gently, you cup him through his pants and a wave of heat ripples through your gut. Andy hisses, his cock stirring against you as you squeeze gently, encouraging it to swell. “C’mon, don’t you remember the risks we used to take?” You rise up again, kissing the underside of his bottom lip. Even his beard feels amazing brushing across your chin.

He snaps, yelling, “No!” as he pushes you away, yet again. 

Sudden hot tears gather in your eyes at his outburst and a horrid realization sets in. “Have you really moved on already?” 

“How can I move on from something we never really had in the first place?” he brutally admits.

Ouch.

“But you promised me the world,” you start tearfully, “why would you choose her over me?”

Andy’s brow furrows. “She’s my wife.”

So? “That didn’t seem to matter when you were fucking me in her bed.”

White hot pain explodes across your cheek as the sound of the slap follows. Your hand shoots up to cradle the area, your skin throbbing. Fresh tears form as you try to stop yourself from crying with a loud sniff.

Andy steps to you, covering your hand with his. You’ve never seen him look so apologetic, even after he dumped you. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— that was wrong.” 

You stare up at him, wide-eyed as he comforts you, asking if you’re okay. You just nod slowly, unable to find the words. This is what you needed to prove he still cares. 

“What we did, we shouldn’t have done,” he says softly. “I took advantage of you.” 

“Was it really taking advantage when I wanted you too?”

Andy smiles kindly, stroking your hand with his thumb. “I can’t give you what you want. You need someone who will treat you like you deserve.” 

“Why would I want anybody else?” you counter back with a shake of your head.

He lifts his hand from yours and places them both on his hips with a heavy sigh. “I know it’s hard to get over somebody you care about, but with time, it will get easier.” He reaches out, tenderly rubs your bicep as a form of comfort. He looks awkward doing it, like he’s afraid to touch you, when he’s touched you— fucked you in more intimate places than most boys would even be able to find on a map. 

Is he recounting that from experience? Is he telling you he’s not really over you either despite his insistence he is?

“I don’t want time, I don’t want it to get easier. I just want you.” 

Andy rubs his fingers into his eyes and lets go of an exasperated huff. “Listen to me,” he glances up, lips tight in a frown, “I’ve tried to be nice about it, but this is the last time I’m gonna say this. We’re over.”

Your cheek smarts as your jaw tightens and the rage you’ve managed to suppress bubbles up. “Then I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone you hit me.” 

He stares down at you in contempt for the first time ever, his features twisted in disgust. “That was an accident, I didn’t mean to do it, you know that.” 

“Was it though?” You give him a teasing pout. “‘Mr. Barber came onto me, slapped me when I said no’,” you put on a sad voice before it returns to normal. “Sounds like an open and shut case to me.” 

“Don’t you understand how damaging those accusations would be?” he spits, incensed. “I would lose my job, my marriage, everything.” 

You smile at him, giddy. “But then we could be together for real! No college to prosecute you for fucking a student and she’d divorce you, it’s perfect.”

The ire on Andy’s face contorts into sheer bafflement. “You crazy bitch, you’ve lost your fucking mind.” He tries to shuffle past you, but you block his way. “Get out of my way before I move you myself.” 

“What are you going to do, Sir?” you taunt. “Hit me again?” 

He lunges forward, hand wrapped around your throat and forces you up against the wall of the stall. “Don’t tempt me,” he breathes out heavily, gazing down at your body until his eyes meet yours once again. “Why I ever thought getting involved with you was a good idea, I’ll never know.” 

“Because, and I quote, ‘no other pussy could ever come close’,” you manage to croak out from beneath his grip. Reaching out, you cup him through his pants and he hisses between gritted teeth. 

Andy swats your hand away, but you quickly grab hold of his, shoving it beneath the hem of your dress. You let out a moan as his fingers brush up against your damp panties. 

You see the way Andy’s eyes flicker at the contact, the slight loss of control when his fingers flex around your throat. You move his hand up and down your clothed cunt, letting go of tiny whimpers as flames of heat begin burning through your core. 

“Touch me,” you beg. “Please.”

His jaw ticks like he’s fighting with himself, growling under his breath as you use his hand to pluck your panties to the side. 

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you purr. “Show me how much you’ve missed my tight little cunt.”

Closing his eyes, he mutters, “Stop,” but makes no attempt to pull away. 

He wants this just as much as you. 

And when you finally manipulate his fingers inside you, you can feel the resistance ebb as he starts to fight for control and eventually you let go, confident in the knowledge he’s not going to pull away. You reach for him and unzip his pants, the warmth of his cock meeting your fingertips as you slip your hand inside the gap.

“Remember how good I used to make you feel,” you whisper with delicacy. 

He doesn’t respond, instead choosing to stare at you the entire time, face tight with disdain as the sloppy wet sounds of your cunt fill the tiny stall. Legs trembling, you can feel your orgasm beginning to crest. The pressure in your gut becomes too much. You push at his hand to move it away, but Andy doesn’t stop.

“No. You wanted this, so you’re gonna come,” he tells you sharply. “Do it.” 

“I c-can’t.” 

“You will.” He leans in, capturing your lips in a wet kiss as he presses the base of his palm against your clit, and you unravel like a spool of thread. 

You’re still coming as he removes his hands from your body, hurriedly lifting you up around his waist. He’s inside you in one swift stroke, stuffing you to the brim for a split second before he’s pulling back out. 

He fucks you like he hates you. Mean, hard thrusts that push you back against the stall until your spine physically aches from the force. You embrace it— every bruise, every welt— the pain reminds you of how close you came to losing him, and you promise yourself that it won’t happen again.

Another wave of heat builds steadily beneath your skin, tingling all the way down to your toes. This time, you welcome the overstimulation, squirting all over his cock with a heady moan. 

“Oh fuck,” he growls into the juncture of your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. “God, holy shit.” Andy roughly pulls out, and drops you to your feet. He tugs on his dick as you move to kneel before him, presenting your tongue like a dog waiting for a treat. 

Andy grabs your hair, tugging hard on the roots as he shoves his cock to the back of your throat and you gag from the lack of warning. He fucks your mouth, exploding messily across your tongue with a strained grunt, stray droplets of cum spilling out from the corner of your lips, unable to lick them away. 

Your throat throbs when he retreats, and blessed air rushes back into your lungs with an almighty whoosh. Eventually, he loosens his grip on your skull and leans into the stall with his palm, eyes firmly closed. His breathing is still jagged and unsteady as he repeats, “fuck,” to himself as the enormity of the situation comes crashing down around him. 

Finally, his eyes flicker open, the pure disgust and conviction returning to his expression as he stares down at you, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. 

“This is it,” he states curtly. You slowly rise to your feet in the small gap, leaning in to kiss him but he pulls back. 

“Don’t be like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You used to love tasting yourself on my lips.”

His jaw tightens in frustration as he snaps, “I mean it,” and your name rolls off his tongue like molasses.

“Okay,” you smirk with a light shrug, triumphant that despite his insistence, you know it won’t be. You have leverage and Andy, of all people, should know that's the golden ticket. You slip from the stall without another word, taking a moment to check yourself out in the mirror before turning to press a finger to your lips. Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open without bothering to check if anyone is around before sauntering out, a little limp new to your gait. 

***

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[sarahowritesostucky]

Lingerie preferences: Andy

Andy likes to see sweet and innocent, girlish things on you.

He's always gifting you soft lil' cotton sets with sweet eyelets, tiny ruffles, and delicate silk bows.

Aside from Ari's favorites, these are the most comfortable to wear.

By now, you've figured out that acting all coy and calling him "Mr. Barber" while wearing these gets him instantly hard.

Camping with the Daddies: Andy Barber "Any Time of The Month"

Sugarbaby Series: Imagines for all five Daddies

[fortheloveoffanfic]

See How it Shines

Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: Twenty years after they went their separate ways, Andy and Y/n meet again- and they still have regrets.

Warnings: Infidelity, angst.

Andy remembers the moment he realized he was in love with her; the city lights reflecting in her eyes, giving them the most otherworldly shine and the shadows that stray tendrils of hair had cast on her face while the fragrance of jasmine tickled his nose. He remembers the way his heart skipped when the thought finally showed itself, like an impromptu encore from your favorite band or biting into spring's first fruit. Though, it was hardly surprising; some part of him must have always known- he must have always felt it, it just took realizing. Andy remembers feeling traces of her warmth permeating his shirt when she settled beside him, and he remembers exactly what it felt like to drape an arm around her shoulders- like he was holding the world in his embrace.

He remembers being so nervous to tell her that his heart felt like it was in his stomach; what if it was too soon and she didn't say it back? What if she simply didn't feel the same?

They'd only known each other for a couple weeks by then, a sure-fire way to scare her off would have been saying something of that gravity and he was suddenly so scared of losing her. So instead, those three little, weighty words became the world's best kept secret for two months. Two whole months, until they returned to that hilltop thirty minutes clear of the city, a place that had unofficially become 'theirs' in their brief time together. 

"I love you."

"What?" A gentle breeze whips her hair as turns to face him. There's a moment of horror that runs through him when he notes the shock on her face- has he read the signals wrong? Is it still too soon? "What'd you just say?" She rasps jaw hanging slack and eyes wide; he can see that all, even in the dimness. 

"I said…." Andy hesitates, realizing that it'll be his only moment to let fear win and retract his words. But he also realizes that he doesn't want to; he wants to love her. Or maybe there's no choice to it, maybe he's just meant to. Andy doesn't believe in fate but he does know that from the minute they'd  met, he'd felt like everything in his life made a bit more sense. He made a bit more sense. "I said that I love you."

Again, Y/n stalls, but this time, she breaks into a breathy smile that makes his chest feel all warm. "I love you too," she breathes. 

After a beat, he emits a relieved chuckle, "That's awesome." Its hardly the right word, but coming up with anything more in the moment seems impossible; there can't possibly be any one word that describe his euphoria in the moment. The overwhelming joy that comes with knowing that he's standing there with someone he loves, and knowing that she loves him back. 

She knows his worst secret- which he shared far too soon- and she still loves him. He thinks he'll cherish that moment forever. 

And now that moment- twenty years later- hurts to think about. 

But he doesn't really beat himself up over it anymore; there are more recent mistakes that do the job perfectly fine now. Parenting mistakes, marriage mistakes. Though, that never stops him from thinking what if;

What if he hadn't hurt Y/n? What if he'd married her instead?

It's usually around that time that Andy firmly reminds himself of two very important things; despite the events of their last year together, he did, and still does have love for Laurie- she gave him their son and they had a great life together; and that nothing good comes from dwelling on the past. 

That is, until he's looking the past right in her face. Suddenly, he's standing in the middle of the little apartment they shared near campus and her face is blotchy and tear-stained. He feels the same humiliation that he had back then and Andy swears he can hear the betrayal in her voice when she asks;

"How could you?"

Trapped in the memory, Andy doesn't manage anything until Y/n breaks the silence by daring to softly call out to him. "Andy?"

Stuttering, he attempts to shake off the thought, "Y/n," he breathes, "Hey."

Her shock softens to a pretty smile, "Hi. Oh my god." She  steps closer and he isn't sure who leans out for the hug first, but he is certain that Y/n is the first to pull away and put an end to their awkwardly stiff  embrace. 

Hugging her never used to feel like that. Y/n's arms were always the place where Andy found the most comfort. A harbor in the storm, a safe place to land. And she was used to be so much more comfortable in his; no invisible walls, no reluctance to lean in. No space between their chests.

Then again, that was all twenty years ago, before he'd gotten someone else pregnant a couple weeks shy of their second anniversary. 

"I can't believe it's really you."

He matches her faint grin, "Neither can I- believe it's you, I mean. God," he huffs, rubbing the back of his neck wearily, "It's been too long."

Y/n's expression falters and she shrugs, "I guess, yeah." He doesn't miss the way she swallows thickly and it's enough for him to realize that all isn't as well as he'd first thought- not that he can blame her. He's still the guy that broke her heart and she's still the woman he brought to tears with his stupidity. 

"Um…." She shakes her head when a brief period of awkward silence stretches on, "How….how have you been? I read about your….." Y/n trails off again and he gets the sense that she doesn't really want to finish the sentence; if talking to people when his son was accused of murder was strange, talking to them after he died was even worse. There's always the most palpable pity in their eyes that makes Andy feel uncomfortably vulnerable. "I'm sorry," waving her hand dismissively, Y/n frowns a little, "I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's alright," Andy promises, "I'm used to it."

"Not the kind of thing anyone should have to get used to," Y/n empathizes, "I meant to call," she offers, "But….."

"I know you must be busy," he shifts the strap of his leather laptop bag higher up on his shoulder and she does the same with her handbag. 

"It's not that," Y/n licks her lips, "I just….. didn't know what to say," she ducks her head and chuckles dryly, "It's been so long, felt like I didn't know you anymore."

"Feels like I don't even know you," her voice breaks and red rimmed eyes are brimmed with tears. 

Wincing at the memory, Andy nods. "Right," he clears his throat and as they settle into another bout of silence, he finds himself appraising her appreciatively. Somehow, she looks completely different and exactly the same- the maturity of a woman who’s lived an impressive life and the same sparkle in her eyes as the young woman that an idiotic college kid fell crazy in love with. "You look….really good," he blurts out, immediately regretting, "I mean like…..life's been good to you."

Really good. But he's already said too much. 

Y/n laughs at his comment, "Not that good. I'm actually here," she gestures to their surroundings, the bustling law firm in Boston, "To finalize my divorce."

Well now he really regrets his words. "Oh shit," he scrubs his hand over his mouth, "I'm sorry- I didn't know……" He scoffs, searching for the right words; what did people tell him after his divorce?

No one talked to him after his divorce.

"It's alright," Y/n waves him off, "Good riddance, right?" She laughs, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes and seconds later her face falls, just like it did when he'd told her what he'd done all those years ago, "He was…. cheating."

"Oh…..

"Yeah…."

"Look, maybe I should-"

"I don't think I ever-" 

In unison, they apologize for interrupting each other, and insistence on both ends, Y/n convinces Andy to finish his first. “I was just saying,” nervously, he scrubs his short nails through his scruff, “I don’t think I ever apologized for…..” Andy can’t seem to bring himself to say the words ‘cheating on you’, so he doesn’t, “What happened with Laurie,” he swallows thickly, “I never meant to….”

“Sleep with her or get her pregnant?” She finishes hastily, but there isn’t as much venom in her voice as there was when he’d first told her. 

“I was gonna say hurt you,” Andy corrects sheepishly, “I know its not an excuse but I was a dumb kid who didn’t realize what he had.”

Y/n's features soften and she sighs, “We were both dumb kids,” she flashes him a glimmer of a smile, “Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”

Disquieted by the thought, Andy nods stiffly. For so long he’s thought of her as the one who’d gotten away, the one who he’d still be with if he could do it all over again. “Right,” he rasps, “Right. Uh-”

“Look, um, I should get going. It’s late and I don’t wanna keep you….” Her words petter off. Reluctantly, Andy hums in agreement. Though, after that, neither of them make a move to leave, at least, not for another thirty seconds. Standing in the midst of the ground floor of the bustling firm, he holds her gaze and he thinks he sees a melancholic combination that he often finds reflected in the mirror.

Pain, sadness, regret. 

“Well um…” Y/n’s tongue darts out to moisten her lips and Andy’s stare flickers to them for a second. He remembers kissing her like it was yesterday; her lips were always soft and her pink-tinted lip balm always reminded him of spring. “I’m gonna….” She gestures weakly to the door. 

“Right, yeah,” he drags his lower lips through his teeth, “Maybe I’ll see you around.” At that, Y/n smiles a little again and nods before stepping forward. 

She’s just passing him when he catches a whiff of her perfume, no longer sweet jasmine that had lingered on his coat long after he'd vacated their apartment but now roses mixed with something woody.

Then it hits him; it'll probably be the last time they'll be that close to each other. What are the odds that he'll see her again?

Is he really gonna let them part ways without saying everything that he’s been longing to? For a second time, no less. 

"I still think about that night," he begins suddenly, and they're still standing shoulder to shoulder when she turns to look at him quizzically, "That night….at our spot," Andy pauses, and when Y/n doesn't respond he continues, "I think about how sure I was that it was gonna be you for the rest of my life," he breaks their matched gaze to hide the shame in his glacial pools. He really had thought that, in his mind, there was an entire future all mapped out and sprawled before him. Finish law school, marry Y/n, work his way up the rungs in the DA's office, move to suburbs and start a family. For a damn long time, Andy had convinced himself that most of it was better than none, but as he stands with her there, he realizes that there's a lot he'd do to have the one thing-person- that was missing.

He has a lot of love for Laurie; she gave him their son and they built a home together, but there's still a flame in his heart that burns in Y/n's name.  

"And I think about how I regret not trying to fix things with you….all the damn time," he finishes after a beat, holding his breath for her response- or the moment Y/n huffs and walks off. 

When Andy looks back at Y/n, her eyes  brimmed with tears and just for a millisecond, they're right in that moment again; emotions running on high, shame taunt in his chest and tears raining down on her face. "For months I hoped you'd come back," she swallows harshly, "I stopped caring about how stupid it was to take you back- I just knew that I would if you asked. But you never did," her words are punctuated by a quiet sniffle, "Then I heard that you'd married her."

"It was the right thing to do," he quips, off-the-cuff, only to add; "Or at least, it felt like it was back then…..it was supposed to be. And I didn't think you wanted me back," he shrugs halfheartedly. 

She blinks quickly, probably to remedy the tears gathered in her eyes. "I shouldn't," the words are just an octave above a whisper, but Andy doesn't miss them. "I shouldn't think about you as much as I do," her eyes momentarily pans down to their feets, open toed heels now pointed towards brown, leather shoes, "I shouldn't…."

"But I do," Andy slips his fingers under her chin, tipping her face upwards a little. There's an urgency in his eyes when they meet hers again and he hopes that they elucidate his eagerness when he asks, "Would you get a drink with me sometime?"

"Maybe we should get coffee sometime," Andy suggests nervously, feet shuffling on the worn asphalt outside the campus library, hands buried deep in the pockets of a coat that he doesn't realize is soon going to smell like the perfume that caught his attention in the first place. 

Y/n knits her brows and Andy finally moves his hands away from her face and she cocks a half smile, "What about now?" 

Y/n huffs a chuckle, a sound that makes his heart race and warmth rushes to her cheeks. She carves out another moment to weigh his offer while adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "What about now?" She tilts her head slightly to the side and her eyes are slightly squinted, though Andy isn't sure if its because of the overhead, afternoon sun or because she's challenging him- daring to see if he really wants to go out with someone he's known for all of two hours. 

"Now?" Andy perks up.

He beams excitedly, "Now?"

Y/n licks her lips, "Yeah," she smiles softly, "Why not? Could be nice to….catch up, right?"

"Uh huh," Y/n breathes, "Why not?" 

Sucking in a breath, Andy has a hard time fighting the excited grin that threatens to split his cheeks, "Couldn't think of a reason if I tried," he offers and she laughs softly, the way she always used to at his awful jokes. He'd never been funny- Andy had never been a lot of things, but Y/n always saw the best in him.

And he'd shown her his worst.

But he won't again; he's hardly going to allow himself to get carried away and think that a couple drinks will change everything, but it's a start and that's better than pining. 

"Alright, let's do it," he squares his shoulders and despite the shine in her eyes making butterflies flutter in his stomach, he finds the confidence to offer his arm. 

"Good." When she links her elbow with his, Andy sucks in a breath, hoping Y/n doesn't feel the nerves radiating off him. 

Taking a chance, while still maintaining some distance between them, he lays his hand in the small of her as they turn to head out of the building together, and surprisingly Y/n doesn't stiffen at the contact that time. "Great," she briefly glances up at him, allowing Andy to revel in that shine again- the one that dances in her eyes when she's in a good mood. The one he's been yearning to see.