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#dark!andy barber x you
hansensgirl · 1 year
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💭 — 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧
summary. — for so long, he’s wanted to hold you down and tell you that he loves you.
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pairing. — Dark!Stepdad!Andy Barber x innocent!fem!reader.
warnings. — DUBCON, stepcest, large age gap (andy is 51, reader is early 20s), coercion, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, grooming, taking advantage, perversion, possessiveness, obsession, isolation, loner reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, smoking, smut, Daddy kink, fingering, mentions of oral (both receiving), overstimulation, degradation, praise, blowing smoke in face, missionary, cowgirl, mentions of male masturbation, size kink (andy’s cock is huge), pet names (little girl, little one, baby, sweetie, sweet girl), creampie kink, reader is extremely innocent, inaccurate explanations of sex, virginity loss, spanking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. — 9k
author’s note. — here’s the continuation of my step dad!andy concept that i posted in may. this is before, during, and after the concept. i copy and pasted some of the concept and inserted it here! everything is legal. andy married the reader’s mom when the reader was 18, and he formed feelings for the reader then. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! @hansensfics
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Andy sighs deeply as he sits in his room, bones aching immensely. He’s been standing by the window, behind the sheer white curtains for far too long. Fifty-one years of turmoil have caught up to him, but thankfully, it doesn’t show as much as it should. 
He feels your discomfort as much as he does his stiffness. The awkward angle he’s been stuck in is a reflection of your personality. You never socialise like you should, and when you’re forced to, it’s all wrong. 
Andy hates seeing you out of your element. The sight of you sitting on a white lounge chair in a dress you clearly don’t like is painful for him. He knows you prefer his company—that’s why he’s always offering it. 
Today, he planned on showing you his notes from court on a case about a man assaulting his neighbour with a wrench.
It’s almost as if said wrench was thrown into his plans, because now he has to watch you try to keep up with the brain-rotting chatter of unruly college girls. 
Your mother had organised the day with her fellow neighbours who incessantly brought up how lonely you are at the community barbecues. Andy remembers that day very well—he caught you crying out of frustration when you didn’t want to go.
Endlessly, he’s had to tell your mother to let up and leave you alone. Andy understands how you are all too well. Lonely, but content. You never connected with anyone growing up and stuck to your devices—books that are either overrated classics or underrated masterpieces. 
It was no surprise that you were immediately drawn to the twice exiled, unlucky man. Like a moth to the flame, you looked at him with such wonder and stuck yourself to him, yet still remained far. 
Your close connection was only formed when he found you in a pile of tissues and drowning in your own tears. Seconds away from hyperventilating, he pulled you back into the ocean everyone calls reality. To this day, however, he still isn’t sure why you were in such a state. 
The laughter he hears is either fake or simply aggravating. He can’t find yours in that mess, though, and he tries to come up with a reason to take you away.
Andy is your stepfather—he can say anything he wants. Chores haven’t been done yet, your mom’s calling you, we have somewhere to be—I want you all to myself. 
But it feels wrong—feels fake. He strives for authenticity after years of ingenuity. Before, he’d patched the cracks in the facade of his forced suburban life before anyone else could see them. Now, he embraces the breakage. In fact, there is none, because there is no farce.
From the low level of the bed, Andy unfortunately cannot see you. Even though your company is the sun, you remain in a white dress. It’s the face of ingenues all around the world. You shield yourself from the scorching sun, the brightness making your eyes ache. 
The idea of making some lemonade (for you and only you) crosses your stepfather’s mind, and he decides to do it.
“Oh my gosh—So, basically, Elijah and I’s anniversary is coming up! Apparently, he wants us to go to Vegas, which I’m so down for. I’m not sure what to get him, though,” a woman in her early twenties, like you, nearly squeals. Her excitement makes you smile. “He’s not a fan of jewellery, so anything like that is out of the question…”
Her name is easy to remember, and very pretty as well. Gianna, and she’s an interior design major. 
A snort is heard from the chair over—Kennedy, who finds humour in anything and is the nicest to you. “Sex, sex, sex! Dude, that’s the easiest thing ever. Just indulge in whatever fantasy he’s got. Maid, landlord, plumber—”
“—Ha! Let him do anal, GiGi. Get a sparkly plug, some decent lube, and spread those cheeks,” the other friend, Imogen, giggles. She claps at the end of her sentence, and the three women laugh for a few seconds. 
“...We’ve already done anal. For his 25th…” The sheepish admission from Gianna makes her friends hoot and holler. You’re not sure what to say—you don’t understand. 
“Is there anything you haven’t done?” Imogen questions in shock. “Listen, y’know that frat guy that keeps hitting on me? Well, I gave him a chance and we were, y’know, getting it on,” she eagerly spills.
“Getting it on? Just say you guys were raw-dogging and spitting in each other's mouths,” Kennedy interrupts, sipping on a fruity drink. Honestly, they’re all sweet. They keep trying to rope you into their conversations, but you’re not sure what to say, so you stick to little hums and gestures. 
“Shush!—Anyway, we were fucking, and he started to talk a lot. And it was so hot, like he was saying the hottest shit ever. He checked every single kink-box!” Imogen brags, and the others are proud of her. “Like what?” Kennedy prompts, curious to the point where her eyebrows raise.
“Breeding, degrading, praising—even a Daddy thrown in every now and then,” she whisper-shouts. “And, get this, he made me squirt!”
The women continue trading stories about their debauched experiences, and you feel as if they’re speaking another language. You’re not sure what they mean or why the things happened. Questions fill your brain as you purse your lips, trying to give yourself the answers.
“—Uhm, I can take that in for you. I think I forgot to cancel this appointment and they keep you on hold for a while during the afternoon,” you lie, standing up and grabbing Gianna’s empty cup. “Oh, you’re so sweet. You’ll be back soon, right? We wanna get to know you better,” Kennedy says, and her girlfriends nod their heads.
You join them in their motions, before jogging to the sliding door and slipping past it. You place the cup in the sink, and then make a beeline for your room. It’s the space you spend too much time in, to the point that your stepdad has had to coax you out of it on numerous occasions. 
The ceiling is at an angle due to the triangular roof of your home. The decorations might not match but they add a cosy feeling that is reminiscent of autumn. You wish the season could remain all year round. 
There is even a window seat. Andy had it built and installed for you last year on Christmas. It was a dream come true—something you’d always wanted. 
You plop yourself onto the space and pull your laptop over. You turn off SafeSearch and look up the things the women were talking about. Videos with dirty thumbnails pop up, along with articles and a warning about the setting you turned off. You’re too scared to click on the videos, so you stick to reading the articles.
But the words don’t translate well in your mind. You feel like you’re the last person in line in a long game of broken telephone. You’re left with more questions than answers, and so you snap your laptop shut. 
Gnawing your lip, you let your curiosity eat away at you. It nags and it nags until you can’t take it anymore. So you wander down the hallway and stand outside the slightly ajar door to your stepdad’s room. 
“D– Daddy? Are you busy?” you shyly question, standing with your hands clasped behind your back. At the sweet sound of your voice, Andy immediately rushes from his place in front of the sink. His hands smell of your lotion—a bottle he stole from you because he couldn't help it. “No, not at all, little one. What’s wrong?”
The older man opens the door even more for you, ushering you inside. You sit on the end of the bed, and he joins you. Your palms grow sweaty as nervousness takes you over. Bite the bullet, it won’t hurt you.
“Uhm…” you start, “I have some, uh, questions.”
“Hit me. I have some answers,” Andy jokes. 
“Okay…” you unfold the sticky note of the things you wanted to know more about—the things your friends were talking about. “What’s a– anal? Like, the bad one,” you ask, whispering and worried.
Your innocence is like a drug that Andy has tasted for the first time and it has kicked in quickly. He swallows thickly and he wonders why you’re asking. 
“Well… There’s numerous ways to have sex… With penetrative sex, you can penetrate any of your holes. And, you see, you have three holes. Your mouth, a– and your private parts. Anal sex is when someone penetrates your butt, essentially,” he explains, not sure what words to use.
He watches as your face twists in confusion. “What do you mean? They can do that to any of your holes? Like, they put something inside?” you press, voice incredulous and shocked. “Yeah, they put something in, and they move it back and forth. There are things meant to go there, though,” Andy tells you.
Clearly, you still don’t really get it. It’s neither your fault nor Andy’s.
“I– I have more.. S’that okay?” Andy immediately nods his head, looking down to try and look at your list. 
“Squirting… Can you explain that one? Please? And why do people like calling other people mean things? And getting called those? I mean, I get why someone likes it when someone else says nice things—but the mean one, I don’t understand. And why do people like using the word Daddy? I thought that’s for certain people…” you ramble, pulling at the yellow paper until it slips.
“Shh… One at a time, baby. Squirting is something that happens during sex. It’s a kind of ejaculate. And with the mean names, it’s just what people like. It makes them all happy, y’know? All tingly on the inside—like when they get praised,” he says, cock fully hard and face flushed.
“Yeah, but, what’s sex? Oh! I get those tingles a lot… But not in my tummy…” you sheepishly admit, and it piques Andy’s interest. But then, he replays what you said. What’s sex? A question that normal people would laugh at—but Andy is anything but that. “...You don’t know what sex is, baby?”
You let out a whimper—something of frustration and fear and insecurity. It makes his cock throb within the confines of his pants. “...Nuh-uh,” you sigh, ready to dart and lock yourself in your room.
“Oh, that’s alright, baby. Don’t worry. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Daddy’ll explain it all to you—I’ll be your teacher,” he smiles, but then frowns when you shake your head. “B– But I don't understand any of it! Not when you explain it, and not when I read about it. It’s all so confusing and doesn’t make one bit of sense.”
Annoyance with yourself seeps from your words, and Andy detects the leak. He’s quick to patch it up, though.
“No, baby! Daddy’s gonna teach you it in an easy way! Remember how you didn’t know what acquittal meant? And I told you the definition? Now you tell other people what it means when they don’t know!”
Andy chooses to ignore the fact that it was only your mother who didn’t know what it meant. 
“But that’s different! Even if you explain it simply, my brain just won’t grasp the concept,” you try to reason, so desperate to learn about the things that other women your age are so well-versed in. “Can you show me it, Daddy? Please?”
Your stepfather nearly asks you to repeat yourself. Your request is innocent and full of desperation—you want to be in on the joke that everyone seems to know. His cock has chubbed up inside his boxers, begging for a release and even crying tears of pre-cum.
“You want Daddy to show you those dirty little things, hm? C’mere, baby. Daddy’ll tell you all about it,” Andy encourages, motioning with his hands for you to move closer to him. You scoot your body until your right leg touches his left. “You’re gonna be a good girl and do whatever I say, right?”
When you nod your head, the older man wonders if he’s won the jackpot. Luck is on his side, clearly. After years of struggle, he’s finally got a good thing. And he’s going to take full advantage of it—he’s going to cherish the treasure he’s been bestowed with. 
“Good girl—” Andy cuts himself off with a groan as you preen under the praise, “—so good for Daddy.”
Your stepdad slowly leans in and presses his mouth against yours. The kiss is searing and passionate, but it soon turns rough and possessive. You try to keep up with Andy as he claims your mouth—biting, licking, and sucking at your supple, wet skin.
He tastes of beer and cigarettes, and the smacking of lips grows wetter and sloppier. You let him take control and try to replicate some of his movements as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Andy holds the sides of your head with two large, strong hands.
But his touch is gentle and encouraging. You let the older man do whatever he wants to do, sure that you can ask him for another tutorial later on. Eventually, he pulls away with swollen, red lips and blown out eyes.
The pale blue (with a tinge of green) has disappeared. Like black paint spilled, darkness is all you can see. 
“You’ve got such a cute little mouth, baby. Think I can fit my cock in there, all nice and snug,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. You’re not sure what he means, but you go along with it and nod your head. Your eagerness is almost unreal—maybe because Andy has fantasised about it for so long.
Moments with his hand wrapped around his large, leaking cock after you said or did something his perverted mind twisted and misconstrued. Showers longer than they should be, and boxers gone in the wash sooner than they would.
“But don’t worry your pretty head with that just yet, little one,” Andy tells you, standing up and in front of you. He gently pushes you back on the bed, and you land with a small thump. Be brings your feet to rest against the edge of the mattress, caressing your skin with his rough, warm hands. “So soft…”
The lawyer brings your left leg up, and meets it halfway. He presses open-mouthed kisses on your moisturised skin, taking in your scent. Eventually the romantic feeling turns ticklish, and you giggle and try to writhe out of Andy’s grip.
Though, there’s a warm feeling that blooms in your cunt. You folds ache, but you’re not sure why. It’s like the tingles you seem to get every now and then, especially when you’re around the older man. 
“Daddy… I feel funny,” you tell him, and Andy halts his movements. 
“What do you mean, little girl? C’mon, tell Daddy,” he urges, genuinely curious. Is it fear? Excitement? Or something more physical? 
“Tingly… And warm… And it kinda hurts—but not in a painful way…” you try to explain.
“Where, baby? Show me where,” your stepfather demands. His eyebrows are mildly knitted in a bit of concern—curiosity. “D– Down there,” you whisper, looking away from his intense gaze. 
A broad hand that belongs to Andy makes a bold move. It moves to your mound, and pushes at your pussy. “Here, baby?” he nearly growls, feeling your warmth and folds through the two layers of fabric that protect you from this ravenous man. 
His fingers dig into your skin and find the bump of your clit, pushing on the nub and watch as you moan softly from the unfamiliar yet pleasurable sensation. “Uh-huh, right there, Daddy,” you mewl, subconsciously bucking your hips upwards.
The feeling is reminiscent of the kind you feel when you press your thighs together—just amped up by a few hundred volts. “Well, Daddy’s gonna make you feel better, okay, little one? This happens sometimes, and from now on, you gotta tell me whenever you feel those tingles. Understood?” Andy orders, and you shyly nod.
“Words. Use your words, little girl. I need to hear it.”
“Y– Yes, Daddy. I– I’ll tell you when I feel tingly—P– Promise.”
“Good girl.” Andy’s hands move to the waistband of your white skirt, and he pulls it down. Your panties go along with it, strings of wetness pulling and breaking when he gets too far. Your pussy glistens in the cracks of sunlight, his white curtains a blessing for once. “Such a gorgeous fuckin’ cunt.”
You bring your hand up to your face and shy away behind it, making Andy coo at you. He throws your bottoms behind him and pulls you a bit closer by your legs. He then looks up at you, pink tongue slowly darting out just a peek. 
Three of Andy’s digits move upwards. He gives them one long, slow lick, soaking them in spit. “Gotta open your legs wide, little girl. Can you do that for me, baby?” he requests, and you immediately nod your head. 
For your stepdad, you open your legs as wide as they can go without hurting. Anything he asks, you’ll do.
“Good girl,” he hums, and he brings his dominant, wet hand to your sopping cunt. Your stepdad tests the waters for a moment, swirling your slick around and caressing your swollen, achy folds. You gasp at the sensation as his large hand covers practically everything. From your clit down to your creamy fuckhole. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?”
You nod your head, and Andy smiles at you. “It’s gonna feel even better soon, little one. ‘M gonna get my cock in that little honeypot’a yours—fuck it nicely and ruin you for other men.” As he speaks, Andy maintains a trained gaze on you. “But you won’t have other men, will you?”
“You only want your stepdaddy, huh? Daddy’s girl—All mine,” Andy murmurs. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, gently biting down. “I gotta stretch you out first,” he tells you.
Andy pushes his pointer finger in first, and groans as your walls welcome it immediately. He lets the digit slip into you entirely, until it’s buried to the hilt. “You’re doin’ so good for me, little girl,” the older man smiles at you. 
Slowly, he begins to thrust in and out of your channel. His finger glistens with your creamy slick, and Andy curses. Once he believes you’ve adjusted to the first digit well enough, he pulls it out and prods two. 
“How was that, baby?” he questions, but you’re too breathless and at a loss for words to say anything. You give him a simple thumbs up, hoping it’ll suffice. “Use your words, little one,” Andy urges, and you whimper out a simple ‘was g– good’ for him.
“You’re soaking, y’know that? Makin’ a mess all over my hand,” he notes aloud. “So innocent but so needy… You make such a perfect whore for Daddy.” 
Andy thrusts two digits into your drooling hole, and he fingers you with that same slow pace. Every now and then, he makes scissoring motions meant to open you up even more. “Daddy… ‘s so much now. Feels even more tingly,” you tell him, looking at your stepdad for reassurance.
“That’s how it’s supposed to be, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he prompts, and you hesitantly nod your head. Andy is right—it feels so good. It’s like the fluttery feeling you tend to get, the one you felt just a few moments before, but it’s not nagging and it’s better in comparison. “Yeah, that’s it. Take Daddy’s fingers, slut.”
Your stepfather knows he shouldn’t be saying these demeaning things to you—shouldn’t be ruining you—but he can’t help it. 
It’s almost hypnotising with the way your cunt sucks Andy’s fingers in as he penetrates your tightness again. And the way you cling onto him as he pulls them in and out of you is downright pornographic—just like the sounds you’re making. 
“Bet you never even got this far, little one. All you ever did was rub this li’l cunny on whatever you could find, hm?” He wonders out loud. “Poor pussy’s been neglected. S’okay, Daddy’s here, baby,” Andy whispers, and he picks up the pace of his hand. 
He finds that rough, spongy spot inside you. It makes you toss your head back and squeeze your eyes shut, limbs trembling. “D– Daddy!” you cry out, confused yet welcoming his touches. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Andy soothes, stroking your sweet spot with his fingers.
Purposefully, he neglects your clit. He knows it’s pulsating—aching to be touched by your stepfather. Your volume raises just a bit, and his cock throbs with every other noise. Your pretty face has formed a frown of pleasure, and Andy thinks to himself he can really get used to this.
“W– Wait. Feels like I needa go to the bathroom…” you shamefully admit, and this time, Andy really chuckles. “You’re so cute and innocent, little one. Gonna give Daddy a cavity with how sweet you are,” he says, picking up the pace of his fingers. He makes sure to keep stretching you out, though.
“Feels like it’s burning and building, huh? That’s normal, baby. Don’t worry. Just take one more finger for me, okay?” Andy skillfully brings you closer and closer to your release. The wet, lewd sounds of your cunt grow louder. “You’re fucking soaking. S’that all for me?” your stepfather asks.
You don’t really know what he means, but you chose to nod your head. At your answer, Andy decides to push a third digit into your cunt. The fit is strugglesome—tight, warm, and snug. You can barely handle his thick fingers, pussy struggling to adjust to them at first. He can’t wait to get his cock inside you.
“H– Hurts, Daddy,” you whine, the stretch uncomfortable. Andy shushes you gently, whispering praises until the pain dulls away and all you can feel is fullness and pleasure. “You’re drippin’ everywhere, little girl. I can’t wait to get a taste of that sweet pussy,” he murmurs, and he continues to attack your g-spot. 
Your cries grow louder and more high-pitched, and Andy knows you’re close. The older man grunts, “That’s it, good girl. C’mon, give Daddy your cream, baby.” Your body goes from thrashing just a tiny bit to seizing when your orgasm hits. 
It takes you by storm. Your eyes squeeze shut and you sob, cunt clamping down on his hand. “Atta girl. Goin’ all dumb for Daddy—that’s what I like to see, little one.” Andy fingerfucks you through your climax, admiring the creaminess that coats his skin. He’s sure some has dripped down to your rosebud, and that makes him so hard.
“Oh– Oh my gosh,” you pant, tears stinging your eyes from the stimulation. “See what I just did, baby?” Andy questions. 
“Uh-huh.” He looks at you, carefully examining the fucked-out look you have on your pretty face. 
“Only Daddy gets to do that to you, little girl. No one else. Understood? You belong to me.”
Obediently, you nod your head. “Uh-huh. All yours, Daddy.”
Your words have his cock twitching underneath the confines of his pants. Andy slowly pulls his fingers out of your wet channel, consoling you when you whine from the sudden emptiness. Your fuckhole gapes just a bit, and it makes your stepdad eager to get his cock out. 
“Damn right, little one,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and pulling his thick cock out. “See this, baby? It’s Daddy’s cock, and it’s the only one you’re ever gonna go near. Y’know, your pussy was made for it,” he hums, stroking himself from the thick base to the leaky, bulbous head. 
Your mouth parts in interest. Whatever he says and does soaks right into that empty mind of yours. 
Andy pulls you up to the bed with his other hand, strength coming in handy. He puts your head on his pillow and then crawls between your legs, making you part them wide once again. He hovers above you, and you involuntarily clutch the blue fabric of his sweater for comfort.
The older man slaps the fat tip of his engorged dick on your clit, making you flinch from the jolt of pleasure. He then slides the head down to your slightly-stretched hole, and he begins to push in.
When your face contorts in confusion and mild discomfort, Andy is quick to tell you everything is okay. “Shh… It’s alright, baby. You’re fine,” he says, speaking gently and pressing chaste kisses to your face. 
He looks down to where his fat cock pushes into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your fuckhole as his. The sight is mesmerising, and Andy can’t help the groan he lets out from it. 
“Taking my cock like such a good little fucktoy. Fuck—you okay, little one?” your stepfather questions, and it takes you a few moments to respond to him. Slowly, you nod your head. Though the breach is unfamiliar and a lot to handle, you’re determined to be Andy’s good girl and fight through it.
There’s a pain that burns—and you bite onto his sweater to keep quiet. Andy examines your face as he continues to sheath his length inside you. “That’s my good girl. Feelin’ shy, baby?” he coos. “Aw, how cute.”
Eventually, your stepfather bottoms out with his heavy balls against your ass. He hums your name and the pet names he’s given you, waiting for you to pull your pretty face away from his chest. “Show me those doe-eyes, little one,” Andy requests. Slowly, you peek up at him.
Your eyes are big and they still hold that innocence that Andy knows he can’t rip away from you. “Good girl. How do you feel, baby?” he asks. 
“Uhm—weird? Feels different… Deep, too…” you process out loud, and the older man nods with your every word.
“Yeah, I’m so deep inside you, little girl. All the way in your belly.” The thought has him growling, and he begins to shallowly fuck you. You mewl with each of his half-hearted thrusts. The pain is soon replaced with pleasure, one that you immediately grow fond of. “There we go…”
“More tingles,” you note, punctuating your sentence with a gasp as Andy’s movements grow more vigorous. “So many, Daddy.” Your stepdad nods his head and smiles at you sweetly, “That’s right, little girl. That’s what happens when Daddy stuffs his fat cock inside your babycunt.”
When he calls you those two words—little girl—your body reacts. You shy away from him whilst your pussy clenches around his dick, and he bites back a loud groan. The veins at his throat bulge, while his jaw clenches.
“I’m gonna start fucking you now, little one. You just gotta sit there and take whatever I give you,” he forewarns, and you nod your head. “Okay, Daddy.” At your words, Andy begins to pummel in and out of your pussy. Obscene noises come from where you’re connected to him—wet sounds and skin slapping against skin.
Andy looks down and watches as his cock forcefully disappears and reappears, your tightness still not used to such a large intrusion. His heavy balls smack against your ass, where your slick stains. “Drippin’ everywhere, baby. You love this—I fucking knew it,” he grunts, his pounds the perfect speed and intensity.
His cock kisses your cervix each time, making you writhe in pain. But when he rubs against your sweet spot, that discomfort leaves almost immediately. “Look, little one, your cream is all over my cock. You’re leaking down to my balls—fuck,” Andy harshly pushes forward at the realisation.
You wail from the intensity. “Yeah, you like getting fucked by a dirty old man, slut? Hm? Like getting fucked by your stepdaddy?” Andy questions, and you hesitate before nodding your head. He swears once more, and then leans down. 
Though he’s repeatedly knocked the breath out of you, he now stops it from moving at all as he kisses you. At first, it’s soft and what teenage dreams are made of. But then, like the way he takes away your virginity, it grows rough and desperate. He takes the lead, shoving his tongue into your mouth and doing all kinds of things you can’t keep up with.
Andy eventually pulls away, noticing that his thrusts have dulled down. He picks his pace back up, his pelvis slamming into yours. Your cream coats his cock, leaving a stain that even reaches his patch of hair. Your lips are raw and glistening from the passionate, bruising kiss he had you locked in.
Your stepfather rams into your fuckhole without relent, forcing more of your wetness out with his shaft. His length strokes your sensitive walls with skill and aggression, abusing your cunt like he’s always wanted to. 
Your chest is pressed against Andy’s, and he uses one of the hands that holds him up to pull down the top of your shirt, exposing your hardened nipples. The cold air adds to the ache of them. “Stupid little girl making the biggest fucking mess on her Daddy’s cock. Y’gonna clean it up after, baby? You better—with that cute mouth of yours.”
Nodding your head, you make the older man inhale a sharp, controlled breath. In contrast, you pant like a bitch in heat as your chest rises and falls. There’s a feeling that grows at a fast pace. It’s like when you have to go to the bathroom so badly—except this time, it’s more intoxicating than intolerable. 
“D– Daddy! Feels funny—like before, but way m– more?” You’re so unsure of yourself—of your body—that it’s utterly adorable to Andy. 
“That’s called an orgasm, little girl. You just sit there and beg Daddy to let you come, okay?” he requests, and you nod your head.
It feels like something that needs to desperately continue and be alleviated—but you know only Andy can do that for you, so you do whatever your stepdad says.
“P– Please let me come, Daddy! Need to come so bad… Please, please please—!” you gasp loudly, Andy’s cock driving deeper and he grinds with each pump of his cock, rubbing against your clit. “Good girl—such a good little slut for Daddy,” Andy hums, sensing you’re even closer to coming. 
“Soak Daddy’s fat cock, little girl. C’mon, wanna see you make a stupid mess on this dick,” he commands, landing some slaps on your ass and the side of your left thigh. Your cunt suddenly convulses around him, clit thrumming and back arching as you come around his cock for the very first time. “Atta girl.”
He growls as your eyes roll back into your head, lids squeezing shut as your face pinches. Your mouth drops open in shock from the heat that envelops you. The grip your pussy has on Andy’s dick grows tighter, squeezing him and begging for more.
Your stepfather fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down just a bit when you begin to twitch from the pleasure. Your walls spasm until he manages to get you through the high, and then he resumes fucking you harshly. Your tits bounce with each slam of Andy’s hips, your body pushed upwards before he pulls you back onto his dick. “Ah—ah—ah,” you moan, going dumb on the older man’s cock. A mildly blank look is on your face, and you babble like a baby. 
“Dumb little girl—talking about dirty things and behaving like a whore when you haven’t even had big girl sex yet,” Andy sneers, grabbing your jaw and puckering his lips up. He spits in your mouth, before telling you to swallow the wad of saliva. Like a good girl, you do exactly as he says. You even smile at him afterwards, before your face pinches again from the sensations his cock brings. “Greedy girl—that hungry pussy is just swallowin’ up Daddy’s fat cock,” he grunts, forcing his thickness in and out of you.
Your toes curl and feet point as your stepfather pushes your legs against your torso. His strong, well-built arms flex, and so does his muscled-chest. Your hands clench his sweater and subconsciously grope his pecs, and you marvel at his figure. 
Because Daddy has to do everything for his helpless baby, he takes your arm and uses it to hold up your left leg, while his left hand pushes on your right. At this new angle, your stepfather’s shaft is far deeper than it was at first.
It’s almost dizzying—the way he’s practically in your tummy. And his thrusts are now stronger, too. Andy’s got you pinned to the bed as he pounds into you, determined to bring you to another orgasm before he blows his load. And even after that, he won’t stop.
“‘S so deep, Daddy! C– Can feel it in my g– guts,” you whine, and your words make Andy’s cock throb within your tight, wet walls. Your cream drips all over his cock, leaving a thick sheen and ring coating his base. Even his balls are soaked. “Uh-huh—you’re just so tiny, baby. Daddy had to force it in—but now you’re takin’ it like a champ.”
You preen under his gaze and his praise, but your tears still leak. “Aw, poor little crybaby. Daddy’s just fuckin’ you too good, huh? S’okay, I got you,” Andy whispers, wet noises filling the air along with the smell of sex. Your sweet tang is amongst the scent, and Andy knows that later on, he’ll rub your cunt raw with his beard.
“My little fuckdoll… This is Daddy’s pussy now—all mine, just like the rest of you,” he grunts, and your second release hits you all of a sudden. 
You writhe away from Andy as best as you can, but it doesn’t get you anywhere. Instead, your aching nipples end up rubbing against the stitched threads on your stepfather’s sweater, adding to your pleasure.
Andy’s thick length nearly splits you open, having a bit of a harder time to move with your increased tightness. “Good girl—that’s it, go dumb on Daddy’s cock. My good little slut,” he moans, peppering kisses at your jaw and nipping at the skin every now and then. 
Heat spreads inside your body as the mattress gets wetter with each drop of your arousal. “You’re makin’ a mess everywhere, baby. But it’s okay. Daddy knows that little girls like you can’t help it—you need Daddy’s help with everything.”
Mindlessly, you nod your head. You gush around Andy, coating his cock while you have him in a vice-like grip. Your swollen folds get nudged by his dick, and the sight is pornographic—something he can never forget.
“Looks like this cunt is perfect for Daddy to fuck, baby,” your stepdad tells you. “Made for me to use however I want. Gonna turn you into my little whore.”
Andy’s words make your pussy constrict even more around his dick. You practically choke him, begging for his cum without even realising it. “Daddy…” you sob, limbs trembling from the amount of euphoria his actions bring. Your stepfather’s jaw clenches at your use of the title.
“That’s right, little girl. I’m your Daddy,” he grunts, now using your fuckhole like it’s his fist. He fucks into your with vigour, determined to fill you up with his cum before he switches positions. He loves the struggle of getting his dick to fit inside your pussy. “You’re making Daddy feel so good, baby. ‘M gonna give you a nice reward for being so sweet.”
At his statement, you perk up as best as you can. Though it’s difficult to think or say anything. “R– Really, Daddy?” you question, elated at the thought of a reward. “Really, little one. You’re such a good girl for Daddy—all the time, too. Never made me have to spank that ass ‘till you’re crying.”
He mumbles the last part, but you catch a bit of his sentence. You don’t understand him though—crying? No, Daddy would never hurt you. Andy’s said so numerous times—times where you’ve cried in his arms and clung to him like a kitten.
Now, your cunt does the same. It weeps and doesn’t let go of Andy’s dick, and the mounting pleasure inside him is as desperate and needy, too. “Gonna give you a belly full of my cum, baby. I’ll fill you up until you’re leaking with my seed for days,” the older man grunts, before cursing wildly.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck.”
Suddenly, the snapping of his hips stops, and he shoves his cock forward until he can’t move any further. The harshness makes you frown, wincing at the mild pain. Then, warmth fills you up, undoubtedly claiming your walls and coating them with white stickiness. 
Andy pants above you, heart clamouring in his chest as he hit his release. He grinds into your pussy to prolong it, only stopping when his hard length grows sensitive. Already, his cum leaks from the sides of his cock. 
“There we go—now you’re all mine, little girl. And I know you like being Daddy’s,” he smiles at you, coming down from his high. His face has a blush to it. 
Andy takes one of his hands and puts it on your tummy, rubbing your skin slightly to get you to relax. It works—but not in the way he predicted.
“A– Again, Daddy? Please?” you start to beg, taking your stepdad by surprise. “W– What do you mean, baby?” he questions, moving his hand to grip your hip. “Do it again, please. F– Feels so good, made some of the tingles go away…” you explain, tightening your channel at the thought.
“You want Daddy to stretch this pretty pussy out again?” Andy asks. It takes you a few seconds and his index finger pointing to where he is penetrating you for you to answer. “Uh-huh!” you moan out, gyrating your hips to alleviate the newer, fluttery feeling at your core.
“Alright… Wanna play a fun game, little one?”
You nod your head, eager to spend more time with your stepfather.
“Good. It’s called horsey,” Andy says, slowly pulling out of your pussy. You whine loudly at the loss, cum leaking out of you and spilling onto the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain it for your little baby brain to understand.”
Your stepdad grabs your and manhandles your body, sitting against the headboard and placing you in his lap.
Your dripping pussy is against his hard cock. “All you have to do is bounce on Daddy’s cock—feel it? Yeah—and make it go really deep inside of you. Think you can do that, little girl`?” he says, rubbing his dick against your swollen, wet petals. 
Above him, you shudder. The pleasure is almost too much for your little-self to handle, but you push through its intensity. “O– Of course, Daddy! ‘M your good girl—gonna do anythin’ for you,” you mumble, and Andy’s hands pull at the cloth covering your torso. 
It then rips, and he removes the shreds from your body. “That’s right, baby. You’re my good girl,” he coos, reaching down to grab the thick, wet base of his hard cock. He gives himself a few languid strokes, before lifting you up a bit.
The fat, sensitive tip of your stepfather’s cock prods at your hole that’s still mildly stretched-out from his brutal fucking. Andy pushes in, pulling you down a bit so you meet him halfway. He knows it’s going to be deeper than ever—and he can’t wait to see that dumb, empty look on your face when he bottoms out.
But then he looks at your mug, and he finds himself feeling something rotten. Something terrible, sinking in his chest until his lust takes over and turns him selfish once more. No—not selfish… Just complicated.
“Daddy, feels scary,” you admit, trying to fall forward and lay against his chest. Andy tuts, holding you up and giving you one of his charming, sweet smiles. “It’s okay, I got you. Daddy’s here, little one,” he assures you, tone saccharine in a stark contrast to his dirty actions.
As you slide down his length, it becomes more difficult to take him. You try to move away from the older man—run away from his intimidating cock. “Nuh-uh. I thought you wanted to play with Daddy, baby,” Andy pouts, and your heart breaks from his sadness.
“C– Can’t take it, Daddy,” you explain to him, half of his dick inside of you. “Yes, you can, sweetheart. Let Daddy help you, it’s okay.” 
Andy’s hands hold your waist, and he looks down to where he’s connected to you, and suddenly thrust upwards. You fall forward with a cry, unprepared for the new angle. He lets you seek comfort in him and his sweater once more, rubbing his hands up and down the length of your back. 
“Shhh… you’re okay, it’s okay. You’re lucky Daddy pumped your pussy full of cum, baby. It would’ve hurt way more,” your stepfather tells you, waiting for your whimpers to die down. “Daddy’s dick is so deep inside you, hm?”
You nod your head slowly, gripping his sweater and pushing your face into his chest. “I know, little one. But when you start to play, it’ll be fine. Try bouncing, baby. Just move up and down.”
Once again, you nod and try to sit up. Andy’s hands move down to your waist, and you splay yours on his clothed pecs. “Up and down—c’mon, you can do it. Daddy knows you can,” he urges, and you begin to lift your body up. 
You stop when you feel it’s right—when half of Andy’s thickness is left inside you. Then, you slide back down. A growl rumbles in the older man’s chest, his cock throbbing as your walls stroke him. “W– Was that good, Daddy?” you question.
“So good, baby—have you played this game before?” he playfully asks, but then that humour turns to jealousy. The thought of you riding another man’s dick has Andy fuming—possessiveness boiling hot inside him and reaching the temperature of the sun. “Nuh-uh. Only you, Daddy. Nobody else.”
Like salve on a wound, you heal that vulnerability of his with your words. “Atta girl,” he praises. “How about we add a fun little rule, sweetie?” he offers as you continue to glide up and down on his cock. You whimper with each movement, muscles burning from the strain.
“O– Okay, Daddy. W– What’s the rule?” you innocently question, looking at him with your doe eyes. “Everytime Daddy slaps your ass, you have to move quicker, okay?” your stepfather tells you, moving his palms down to the globes of your ass. He caresses the skin gently.
Before you can worry about the pain, Andy lands a sharp smack to your butt, making you yelp. You pick up the pace of your movements, still careful, however. “Such a perfect pussy, little one. So tight and warm and wet… And made for my cock,” he whispers, punctuating his sentences with spanks.
Unfortunately, Andy’s cock doesn’t kiss those spots with expert aim. And you’re too scared to take his entire length. So, your poor legs give up, and you fall forward again. You cry out from the wasted euphoria—gone is the dull fire inside you. But not entirely.
“Aw, you can't do what Daddy does, hm? Poor baby. You need me so bad,” your stepdad coos, but it’s more like he rubs your failure in. “Dumb little girl—acting like a whore even though you can’t ride Daddy’s cock. How silly of you—don’t you feel stupid?”
You let out a whine that turns into a sob, and Andy quickly shushes you. Stupid Andrew, he chides himself, hurting this sweet thing… Don’t you love her? “Baby?” he calls out, trying to coax you out of the shell you’ve crawled back into.
His cock isn’t buried to the hilt like it was before, and the ache between your legs still needs to be taken care of—Andy’ll fix that after. He wedges his hand between your face and his body, pushing you off him roughing and holding your hand in his palm. You frown and cry out from the pain, face twisted in discomfort. 
“‘M sorry, little one. Daddy's sorry. Fuck—can’t help it,” he slurs, hating himself for getting so rough with you. But it’s not his fault he’s this way. You just awaken something ferocious in him—something that needs to be held down with chains and locked away in a cage for eternities. 
Something so terrible yet so addictive. 
“I love playing with you so much—that’s why Daddy hurts you, little one. I love you, I just get excited sometimes,” he explains, cupping your cheek and smiling at you. Eventually, you come around. “S’okay, Daddy,” you whisper, looking downwards. 
“It’s my turn to play horsey now, little girl. All you have to do is sit up straight, okay? Try not to lay on Daddy.”
Andy’s heels dig into the mattress and he bends his knees just a bit, still holding onto your hips. He looks down to where he breaches your tightness, and notices the tinge of pink that mixes with his spunk—the same cum that leaves out of your fuckhole.
At that moment, he ignores it. He stores that thought for later—for when he’s lonely and desperate to feel guilt. Andy bottoms out inside you slowly, enjoying the lewd squelching sounds that come with his action. “Oh, gosh,” you murmur, eyes rolling back into your head.
The hairy base of his cock touches your core, and his balls rest against your ass. Andy’s hands move to your butt, and he spreads your cheeks apart. One of his fingers prods at your other hole. The older man has half a mind to defile your little rosebud that’s sticky with wetness and his cum.
You can feel Andy’s cock so deep inside you; it’s dizzying. The breath is nearly knocked out of you, and you feel as though you’ve bared something to your stepfather that has left you utterly vulnerable. The feeling has you distraught, but Andy told you he’d take away all your thoughts, so it’ll be okay. Right? 
“You're such a good girl for me. So good. My good girl,” Andy grunts, and he’s lifting you off his cock until just the tip remains inside you. His hips then return to the depths of your wet channel. He starts to fuck up into you, and the familiar sound of skin-on-skin reverberates throughout the room. This time, it’s louder.
Andy stares at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to study each aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he shoves his thickness into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him.
“Daddy—Daddy—Daddy!” you squeal, toes curling and limbs stiff yet twitching. Is it possible to be hooked on the way someone says something? You’re not a ‘someone’ though—you’re so special and so different. The answer must be yes. It must be normal, too.
Your tits bounce with each of his upward-thrusts. This new angle is unlike anything you’ve ever felt—more profound and accurate. Your stepdad fucks into you with such roughness that it’s hard to keep upright. Especially with the building sensitivity in your lower abdomen.
“Fuck, yeah. Take Daddy’s fat cock in this tiny cunt, little one. Fucking take it, slut,” Andy grunts, getting meaner by the second. It’s a helpless habit, and thank heavens that you don’t understand half of the words he’s saying. 
A blank smile spreads itself on your face, but your eyes are full of hope. Hope that you’re doing good for your Daddy. 
“You’re my good girl. My good girl—my dumb little girl. No thoughts in that head, hm? You just wanna please your Daddy and get fucked until you can’t think anymore,” he spits, and the word that diminishes your intelligence has your bottom lip wobbling. 
You want to please your Daddy, but you must be doing something wrong, no?
“Aw, don’t cry, little one. Daddy’s being nice to you, okay? It’s good like this!” Andy quickly tells you, slowing down his thrusts. He grinds into you in the meantime, and he doesn’t miss the way your cunt is gripping him even tighter. “O– Okay, Daddy. T– Thank you?” you apprehensively say, unsure of so many things. 
“Daddy’ll teach you all about it after. Okay? You’re so cute and polite, little one. You’re doing so good for me,” Andy coos, rubbing a thumb on your face. You grin at him before squeezing your eyes shut, feeling that funny sensation inside of you. 
It worsens as your stepfather continues to fuck your guts, stroking your walls with his thick member. In the midst of his actions, Andy craves a cigarette. He wonders if you’d let him blow smoke in your face since you said he can do whatever he wants to you. Of course, you would—you’re such a good girl. 
“Wanna make Daddy even happier, sweetie?” he wonders, stretching one of his arms to reach the bedside table. He pulls the top drawer open and blindly sifts through it. “O– Of course, daddy. Please? Wanna make you happy,” you plead, absentmindedly gyrating your hips on your stepdad’s cock.
Andy finds the lighter grouped with the pack of Parliament cigarettes. He doesn’t bother closing the drawer, but he does bring you closer and forces you to catch yourself on your hands.
Your stepfather—who had promised your mom that he kicked the habit—plucks a smoke from the box and places it between his pink lips. “Daddy? What are you doing?” you question, halting your movements. Andy smiles at you, the cigarette wobbling a bit.
“Don’t worry your little baby brain about it, sweet girl,” he simply tells you, before lighting the cigarette. He takes a drag from it and puffs the smoke back out, satiating the craving he had a few moments ago. He then places it on the ashtray as you watch the grey smog swirl in the blue of his room.
Andy pulls you towards his chest and holds you, fucking up into your cunt. His cock drives in and out of you, balls slapping against your ass and his thick thighs jiggle each time. 
“Uhm… Oh–! Uh, Daddy?” you murmur, finding it harder to breathe. “Shh… Don’t worry, little one. Just soak Daddy’s fat cock,” Andy shushes, and you mewl at his filthy words. 
Your cunt aches immensely, but it’s the kind that is more resounding and pleasurable than anything. Andy abuses your cream-filled fuckhole like it’s all he can do—all he knows how to do. Make you feel good—that’s it. 
He’s spewing grunts and curses, and each time he utters a filthy word, you take note of how gravelly his voice is, how it rumbles in his chest and you can quite literally feel it. It’s a harsh contrast to your high-pitched wails and choked-out moans. 
“Come, little one. C’mon, fuckin’ make a mess for your Daddy,” he demands once more, punctuating his words with hard thrusts. 
Your body comprehends his words, and it starts to have that reaction.
The one where your back arches yet your limbs flail and your head tries to pull away from the crook of his neck. It’s almost as if you’re trying to run away from your stepdad. He won’t let you go, though—he never will. Yet it makes him so hard when you try to escape. 
Your mind soars high above the cotton candy clouds of your skies. You start convulsing around Andy’s member, creaming and soaking him. Your body freezes and you let out a wail that is music to his ears. He cheers you on with small ‘yeah’s that have you giggling slightly. “Good girl.”
Your tits jiggle, and your body jerks upwards as Andy roughly fucks you through your orgasm. “D– Daddy,” you mewl, and Andy simply begins to fuck you quicker. Eventually, those sparks he brought became too much. You’re not sure what to do, though, so you simply writhe on his lap. 
“‘M gonna fill you up again. Gonna pump this cunt full of cum until you’re leaking for days. Turn you into my messy little girl,” your stepfather says through grunts and growls as he sloppily uses your pussy. You nod your head and grin, wincing every now and then.
The older man’s sloppy, selfish pumps grow erratic. Andy then stills deep inside your cunt, burying himself to the hilt. A guttural moan leaves him, one that is louder than intended. He holds your body tightly, not wanting to let go of you.
His white ropes paint your inner walls until the sides of his cock are dripping, and there’s a ring at the base. Spilling inside you, Andy turns you into his cumdump once more. “Fuck,” he groans, your tight pussy tempting him to go again and again. 
Maybe he will. His cock remains locked inside you, and both of your chests rise and fall with exhaustion. “Daddy…” you whimper, cunt sensitive and stretched out from his engorged dick. 
“Shh… Daddy’ll take care of this greedy pussy again, little girl. Don’t you worry,” Andy tells you.
Your hands are on his body, and you brace yourself up using his waist. It’s hard to stay upright with the weakness of your body and the wobble of your arms. 
Andy reaches for the ashtray and plucks the cigarette back up. He dusts the ash off, and puts it back between his lips. He inhales the smog, and then pulls the smoke away to puff out the grey fumes. 
“That’s dirty, Daddy. Don’t do it, please,” you bemoan, curling in on yourself at the sight of your stepfather harming his health. “Well, I guess that makes Daddy a dirty old man, no?” he half-quips. 
Your stepfather takes another drag, and then he pulls you close to his face. Andy exhales, smoke directed in your face and he catches you at the right time. You take a breath in, unexpectedly drawing in the fumes of his cigarette.
You giggle apprehensively—still worried and it’s written all over your face, even if you don’t mean it to. You’ve got that look you always have when you’re trying to fight back your sweet tears, trying not to burst into sobs. Eventually, the smoke goes away. But the revolting smell of it remains, lingering in his room. 
In Andy’s mind, it only makes sense a dirty old man like him would have an equally as nasty habit. 
And to balance it out, an innocent little girl like you on his cock. 
7K notes · View notes
boxofbonesfic · 1 year
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Title: Wax and Wane
Pairing: Werewolf!Andy Barber x Reader
Summary: You were drawn to Andrew Barber like a moth to flame, and now that everything you were is burned away, you cling to him in the ashes.
Word Count: 1,269
Warnings: Darkfic, Dubcon, Horror Au, Werewolves, Smut, Borderline Monsterfucking (lol), Implied Stockholm Syndrome, Breeding, Dead Dove: Do not eat, MINORS DNI!
A/N: my second entry for my Friday the 13th challenge! so as some of you all may recall, the “A.B” initials on the charm bracelet in Talking to the Moon implied the existence of other women, and maybe other pack members…😈 mind the warnings my loves! enjoy! divider by @firefly-graphics
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The sound of the bell rouses you, forcing you to sit up groggily as you blink at the dark room. The heavily draped window is dark too, and when you look blearily for the digital clock on the bedside table, it confirms your suspicion. 
 The bright numbers read 3:17, and for a moment you consider turning back over and going back to sleep, but the little bell next to your bed sounds again insistently. 
 I hate that fucking bell. It’s an antiquated remnant of the house’s past, from a time when your lavish bedroom was once part of the servant’s quarters, the bell a means to summon you. Now, however, it serves a somewhat different purpose. 
 Is it really different? He calls, I come.
 Andy’s side of the bed is cold, you note as you roll out from underneath the covers. You peek through the curtains out at the moon, a dark sliver eaten out of the bright circle. It won’t last, though—it’s due to be full tomorrow, maybe the day after, so Andy’s side of the bed will remain cold until then. 
 You hate that you miss him, a little. He is a good conversationalist after all, your man—your monster. 
 Andy is supposed to be with the pack—you know this from past experience. It’s strange he’s waited so long to leave, and you know that now he must have certainly missed his chance. You make your way down the long hall, the only sound the whisper of your long robe against the cool tile. He isn’t downstairs, not when you exit the grand staircase and into the dark living room. The house is intimidating in the dark, but you’ve done this enough times now that you could probably do it with your eyes shut if you wanted to. You go through the kitchen, pausing briefly before the cellar door. 
 When you open it, Andy is waiting for you on the other side. It’s easy to see the change is almost upon him. His bare chest is heaving, shiny with sweat. His eyes are fever bright, nostrils flaring from the scent of you. When he licks his lips, your pulse quickens, and you wonder if he can hear it, if he knows. 
 I should have seen it coming.
 You should have—but Andy had blinded you. Love blinded you. You had not noticed your friends dropping from your life like irate flies as you found yourself too busy with Andy Barber to see them, your family held at arms length by their disapproval of your wealthy, mysterious new beau. People falling like dominoes until you were alone—
 And alone, you were weak.
 When the man had become a monster, you had clung on instead of running. And now, you think as you lightly finger the raised scar on your chest, it’s too late. The long scratch marks that if you measured, would be exactly Andy’s finger-widths apart. 
 There’s something under my skin, too.
  You allow him to pull you to his chest as he inhales deeply, pressing his face into your hair. The smell of him does something to you, too, igniting a warm tingle deep in the apex of your thighs. The distinctly male musk, tinged with something animal, primal. His fingers tangle in your curls for a moment before he lets go, his hands wandering appreciatively down your sides and over the curve of your hips. 
 “I thought I was going to have to come get you,” he says, his voice low. There is amusement there, too. “You have good timing.” 
 Most people don’t pay close attention, so generally, even when Andy is out and about this close to the change, no one notices the tells. Not like you. His nails are longer, sharper and stronger. His canines longer, thicker—it makes him lisp, just a little. And his eyes…
 The darkest, stormiest blue. 
 Andy slides a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up. You sigh into his mouth as his lips meet yours, his teeth pulling at the plump flesh until it swells. Hungrily he swallows the resulting whimper, and when his tongue sweeps into your mouth he tastes like gin—he’s been drinking. Andy’s hands slide up your sides, displacing the robe as he pushes it from your shoulders. 
 “Smell like honeysuckle,” the words are murmured low against your throat. You squeak when his fingers sink appreciatively into the soft skin of your ass underneath the hem of your nightie. He inhales again, teeth tugging at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “And rain.” Thick fingers wiggle between your thighs, and you widen your stance without being asked, and Andy hums with pleasure at finding you damp already. 
 “Missed you.” 
 Your breath catches as he circles your clit, before sliding down to tease at your entrance. When he pulls back, you try to stifle the whine that grows in your throat, but you don’t kill it completely. 
 “Get on the desk.” 
 This room serves as Andy’s unofficial second office. Where, if you looked, you might find pieces of evidence that were conveniently “lost” during trial—things that might make their way into Andy’s pocket if he had a particularly stubborn problem. 
 Nothing that would be of use to you now. 
 His eyes rest on you with almost physical weight, you can feel them boring into you as you lean up onto your toes, bending across the dark wood. You peek over your shoulder, and you sink your teeth into your lip to keep from gasping. When the change is close, you know Andy is… bold. Aggressive, even—-and tonight is no different. He openly palms his cock through his open pants, staring lustfully at the glistening folds between your spread thighs. He grins at you, and your cheeks burn but you don’t look away. 
 “I told you, runt,” he says, the points of his sharp teeth hanging over his lip. “I missed you.” Andy is on you in two easy strides, resting a hand on your hip as he rubs the head of his cock against your pussy. This time, you can’t help the shuddering moan that leaks through your clenched teeth. He bends over you until he can rest his lips on the back of your neck, and they curve against your skin. “I see you missed me too, didn’t you?”
 “I did,” you admit, your cunt sucking desperately at the tip of his cock. 
 “Mmm, good girl, so honest.” The pleased hum that vibrates in his chest fills you with a shameful sense of pride. You are a pretty bird in a pretty cage for as long as he’ll have you—but you can’t bring yourself to hate him. You moan as he begins to push forward, his hand heavy on your hip.
 “I know I’m supposed to be with the pack,” Andy grits out as he begins to stretch you open. You stare with lidded, unseeing eyes at the bookshelves in front of you, his words echoing in your ears. There’s a sort of doubling when he speaks again, two voices in one mouth. There is Andy’s voice, the one you know, and then something dark. Animal. 
 “But you feel so good like this.” 
 You know the beast is crawling just underneath Andy’s skin, staring out at you through his eyes. Your only saving grace is the fact that they want the same thing—
 “I know you like it too, pup,” Andy’s teeth scrape hungrily against your neck as he splits you open inch by delicious inch. “You always did have a thing for monsters.” 
 end
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library​ for updates. ❤️
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labella420 · 14 days
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Release Me Pt. 3
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Starring: Dark!Andy Barber x Female Reader
Summary: Summary: Andy Barber wants to save you. But do you want to be saved my him?
Warnings: Warnings: Eventually NSFW! 18+ Only! Non-con. Dub-con. Dark Andy! Eventual Smut. Coercion.
Word Count: 1551
Divider by: @firefly-graphics
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The rain echoes off the concrete courtyard. The sound of a storm used to bring so much comfort, but now only reminds you of the darkness that surrounds you since that night.
You pull your blanket tighter around your body, closing in on yourself to build some warmth. You were looking forward to your time outside today, ready to warm your face with some much needed sunshine. Unfortunately, the clouds rolled in during breakfast and it hadn’t stopped pouring since.
With no luxuries you have to find happiness wherever you can, and for you it’s your hour of outside time that’s been keeping you sane. Days like these where you can’t escape the four walls of your cell, the minutes feel like hours, weeks feel like years.
The buzz of the lock release on your door pulls you from your internal monologue. “Let’s go, your lawyer’s here to see you.” You’re slow to react, confusion clouding your features as the guard huffs in annoyance. “Up and at ‘em, hurry it up princess.”
“We weren’t supposed to meet today,” dropping the blanket as you stand turning to give the guard your hands so she can place you in cuffs. “Did he say what it’s about?”
“No idea. Now come on.”
You ignore the catcalls and whistles from other inmates as you’re led through identical hallways and corridors until you’re made to stop in front of a door to one of the interrogation rooms. The door swings open to the brightly lit space, memories of the night you were arrested clinging to you like an invisible weight. In a room like this is where you gave up, where your protests and pleading fell upon deaf ears. Your attorney’s not alone, a man whom you haven’t met sits next to him holding a large envelope you’ve seen in court that contains evidence or documents pertinent to a case.
The sound of your cuffs echoes in the silence as you settle into your seat, your hands locked into the underside of the table giving you just enough freedom to move, but a staunch reminder that you’re not free.
Your attorney’s demeanor suggests seriousness with a faint hint of excitement, and the unfamiliar man’s presence only adds to the intrigue. You try to maintain your composure, but anxiety gnaws at you as you await an explanation for this unexpected meeting. Your attorney clears his throat before speaking up, breaking the uneasy silence in the room. “Ms. Y/L/N, this is Andy Barber,” he says, gesturing to the man next to him. “ He’s an assistant district attorney with Middlesex county. We’re here to discuss some new developments in your case.”
“I don’t understand,” you implore, sitting back in your seat, wondering what new information could’ve possibly landed on the prosecutors desk in regards to your case. If it’s coming from that side, it can’t be good. Andy’s expression remains impassive as he opens the folder on the table, revealing a stack of documents. Your mind races with possibilities ,fear mingling with a slight glimmer of hope. Could these “new developments” finally bring some clarity to your situation, or just another negative twist in this seemingly endless ordeal?
Andy’s voice cuts through the tension, his tone measured and deliberate. “We’ve uncovered some new evidence that we believe is significant to your case,” he begins, his eyes never leaving yours. “We’ve reanalyzed some of the forensic evidence from the crime scene, and they’ve been some questions raised when it comes to the initial findings.”
Your heart skips a beat when he mentions the new evidence. Could this be the break you’ve been waiting for? Your attorney leans forward, his expression mirroring your anticipation. “What kind of discrepancies?” He asks, his voice betraying a hint of urgency.
“It appears that there may have been some mishandling of evidence during the initial investigation,” Andy adjusts his posture, his gaze unwavering. “We’ve also identified potential witnesses that were overlooked during initial interviews.”
A surge of hope washes over you as you take a moment to absorb what he’s saying. Could this mean there’s a chance to prove your innocence? Your mind’s racing, but you force yourself to remain composed. After all you’ve been through you know better than to let yourself get carried away with optimism. There’s a long road ahead, but for the first time in a while there’s a small glimmer of light at the end of the dark tunnel.
“What happens now?” You ask tentatively, swallowing some of the excitement you’re feeling. You don’t want to get your hopes up, it’s new evidence, not news that you’re being released.
Andy flips through the documents, double checking some of the information before answering your question. “We'll need to conduct some further interviews and reevaluate some of the evidence. In light of these new developments, we may need to discuss the possibility of a plea deal, best case scenario for you- a petition to dismiss the case entirely.”
You gasp, covering your mouth in shock. This has to be a dream, because this was the least expected direction you ever imagined this case going for you. Glancing at your attorney you see he’s just as surprised with the new revelation from the prosecution, and as the meeting progresses with Andy a new sense of purpose fills you. Despite the uncertainty, you can’t help but feel a glimmer of optimism. After so long in the darkness, it seems the first rays of dawn are finally breaking through.
Plans are crafted, and timelines established. Andy’s presence brings a sense of authority and reassurance, his dedication to uncovering the truth evident with every word he speaks.
As the meeting draws to a close, your attorney raises from his seat, a determined expression on his face. “We have some work ahead of us, but it looks like we’re on the right path,” he says, addressing both you and Mr. Barber. “Thank you for bringing these new developments to our attention.”
Andy nods in acknowledgment, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he gathers his documents and prepares to leave. “I’ll be in touch.” He states, shaking hands with both you and your attorney before he’s gone, leaving you to process this new direction your case is going in.
Alone with your lawyer you're grateful for these unexpected turn of events. You were losing faith in this so-called system of justice, but it no longer feels broken. Although there’s still a few hoops to jump through you’re rejuvenated, ready to take on new battles in the journey to prove your innocence.
As you leave the interrogation room behind, the weight of uncertainty no longer hangs over you like a shroud. Instead, you walk with purpose, fueled by the hope of redemption and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.
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Andy trudges across the graveled parking lot to his car, tossing the envelope into the passenger seat. He did it, gathering and delivering this “new” information to you and your incompetent defense lawyer without arousing suspicion. It’s not standard for a prosecutor to spend an ample amount of time to search for potential breaks for the defense.
Thankfully, Andy’s reputation as a thorough and just prosecutor is what’s able to grant him the ability to poke around where most prosecutors won’t. It wasn’t always like this, he sighs heavily, reaching into his glove compartment and pulling out a photo of his deceased wife and child. He runs his fingers over the photo, remembering happier times when he had it all, his career, his beautiful wife Laurie, and their son Jacob. He’ll never forget how his family’s happiness changed in the blink of an eye, and how quickly he turned on a system he swore to uphold.
It wasn’t hard to plant the evidence with his father’s connections, how easily people’s integrity could be bought with the right price. How trusting people were with a name. How with the right public persona you could get away with just about anything, and the general public would fiercely defend you than investigate you.
For a while after Jacob and Laurie were gone, Andy was a shell of himself, barely caring for himself, never leaving the house, and contemplating joining his relatives with the assist of his pistol locked in his safe. But as days turned to months he found himself angry. Angry that a system he poured his life into betrayed him so swiftly. So in turn, he came to the conclusion that he was going to betray the system.
His plan was moving along perfectly. By his calculations you should be out in roughly two weeks give or take. By then his remodel of your family cabin should be complete, and he knows you’re going to be delighted with your new accommodations, much better than the ones you’ve been in recently.
Hopefully you wouldn’t have to be in them long, just enough for you to realize he did this for you. He only wants to provide for you, and take care of you and the children you’re going to have. It may take some convincing, but he’s an excellent negotiator, and he knows that you’re a smart woman and will see things his way. It’s not like he’s going to give you any other choice.
Tags: @biteofcherry @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @patzammit @marvelwolf @saiyanprincessswanie @late-to-the-party-81 @peakeak @smile1318 @missvelvetsstuff @buckets-and-trees
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buckets-and-trees · 5 months
Note
Sweet, sweet Aspen. You have been a very bad girl. This soft!dark guy, your boss, caught you doing something wrong—something that could easily get you fired—but he decided maybe, jussst maybe, he should keep your indiscretion, and your resulting punishment, between the two of you. After all, he’s been dreaming about filling you with his cock for ages 😏
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(I picked this GIF because it looks like he’s saying, “On your knees.” lolll)
well, dearly beloved sister ho, you know we were thirsting over a particularly ... inspiring gif.
I don't think you anticipated your ask to spawn THIS, but... here we are! THANKS FOR POPPING MY ANDY CHERRY!
Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: I'm Your Man Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 3k
Summary: You've spent weeks working to pull off the perfect night for Andy Barber's big charity event. A rush job, but you worked meticulously and diligently over six weeks to coordinate the biggest event of your career to date. You weren't the only one with a plan for the night.
Content Warnings: extortion, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT, spitting, oral - male receiving, spanking, vaginal intercourse, breeding kink, unprotected sex
Logistical Notes: A NAUGHTY submission @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice challenge. Prompts incorporated are in bold.
Additional Notes: I didn't want to write a summary. There's only enough plot here to smut you up. Dividers by @rookthornesartistry and @firefly-graphics.
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You sit up straight when you hear the door to Andy’s home office open behind you.
“Thank you for waiting for me,” he says as he strides across the room and takes a seat in the leather executive desk chair.
“Yes, of course, Mr. Barber,” you reply. Every part of your body is tired – tired in a good way from the long day of work – so you were eager to get home, soak in your tiny tub, and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend, but it hadn’t been an incredible inconvenience when he’d asked if he could speak with you before you left.
“Tonight was exquisite, you did well,” he doles out the praise, and you try to quell the blooming in your chest. In the six weeks working with Andy Barber to plan the charity event you’d just executed for his foundation you had seen that he wasn’t one to casually compliment, hard to impress. You had taken more and more satisfaction out of each meeting, email, or text exchange as you consulted and then presented him with options for the event when he had fewer and fewer notes, knowing you had cracked his taste and gained his approval. He’d been your toughest client to date, but by far one of the most rewarding as he had excellent taste.
“Nearly perfect,” he adds.
Your smile falters ever so slightly, and suddenly your chest floods with a chill. “Nearly perfect? I’m sorry, sir, what didn’t live up to your expectations?”
This was far from your first event, you had built an incredible portfolio over the years, and you knew you were finally ascending to be one of the best event coordinators on the eastern seaboard – you had received an email request from a goddamn Vanderbilt to plan a wedding for them in a year and a half that you were going to respond to and accept in the morning. You weren’t arrogant, but you’d worked damn hard and knew you were good.
“You.”
Your breath catches in your throat. “I – what?”
“Only one misstep tonight.”
Your brain flies back through the evening, reviewing every moment, raking through trying to determine what you could have possibly missed.
“I’m very particular about what belongs to me, and I cannot abide theft.”
Your jaw drops.
“Empty your bag.”
Now your whole body is buzzing with incredulity. You shake your head.
“I know what’s in there.”
You almost didn’t take this job when it landed in your lap. He was the reason you knew you should have said no. There were whispers about his reputation, his real businesses. But you took the initial consultation because the pitch was more money than you’d made over the last three years. Then when you’d met him, he’d been so normal, so nice, maybe a little charming, and up until this moment you had convinced yourself there was no way any of those rumors had been right.
But before you even put your hand in your bag, you knew you were wrong to have thought he wasn't all those awful things.
Not one, not two, but three Rolex watches nestled in the bottom of the main pocket. Watches you'd never seen - wouldn't even have known where to find them.
You scoop them out and drop them on his desk, eyes burning with tears. “Why?”
“Yes, why? I was already giving you a fat paycheck. What a shame when I had just given your name to the Vanderbilts’ social secretary for their son’s wedding a few days ago, I’ll have to reach out and let them know.”
“No,” you breathe.
“I’ll have to discreetly let everyone in my network know it��s better not to invite someone in their home with such light fingers.”
Your breath hitches and your hand flies to your mouth to stifle an almost sob, trying to hold back the onset of tears. “Andy, no, please.”
His smile softens. “There we are,” he coos, “you finally called me Andy like I’ve told you to so many times.”
He leans forward resting his arms on his desk.
“Now, if you go upstairs, be a good girl, put on what I left for you in my room, and wait for me, maybe I can make all of this little misunderstanding go away.”
His steel blue eyes are hard, they demand an answer.
You cock your chin up wishing you could say no, wishing you could even scowl at him, but aside from the heat and hurt in your eyes, you know you can’t do anything more without risking further ruin, so ultimately you let your chin drop and nod, resigned to the impossible power this man wields.
“Now we’re back on track for a perfect night, sweetheart. I’ll be up soon.”
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You don’t know how long he makes you wait, using the promise of soon as another show of his power, but long enough that your knees hurt from sitting back on your heels in a submissive, kneeling position with your head lowered, hands folded in your lap, and back to the door as the card in the white box left for you had instructed.
Also in the box had been a set of exquisite black lace and silk balconette bra and cheeky underwear. That they fit you like a glove had been both humiliating and alluring.
Even though Andy was the reason you almost said no to the job, even though he was the humiliating reason you were in this position – extorted into a nearly naked state, no question of what was to come – he was also the reason you took the job.
Dread pooled in your stomach, but along with the dread and humiliation, there were rivulets of shameful desire.
You had taken the job for the money and for how quietly charming he had been. He had never outright flirted with you, but he always left you with the question of whether he was. You worked hard for him because it felt good to win his approval. He praised you and you had preened under his intense blue eyes every time. You had forced yourself to keep everything professional.
All for nothing since you were in the farthest position of professional now.
When you finally hear him enter the room, your sit up straight again.
He tsks and says, “Head down, sweetheart.”
Andy comes around to stand in front of you. You see his perfectly polished shoes, the perfectly tailored trousers. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. He runs his thumb over your lips, circling them.
“Open your mouth,” he says.
You do.
He leans closer, then spits in your mouth, and you blink in surprise, a surge of humiliation running through you, but his grip on your jaw is powerful, so you don’t move away.
“Close your mouth but don’t swallow.”
He moves back from you then, and he begins to silently undress. He had already taken off his jacket, but he doesn’t hurry as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, the buttons down his chest, and then shrugs it off his shoulders. He places it nicely on a plush armchair on the side of the room. Next he sits on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes and socks.
The way he doesn’t watch you but does all of this in your line of vision, knowing you have to watch, is another move meant to communicate who is in control of this situation. Still holding his saliva on your tongue is starting to become uncomfortable. Your instinct is to swallow, but you don’t know what disobedience may mean with Andy, so you fight the urge, not wanting to tempt any more of his darkness.
He stands and takes the shoes and socks to a large closet off to the side of the room, and when he returns, he stands directly in front of you again, takes your jaw in his hands again.
“Show me,” he says.
Your eyes watch his face you open your mouth, showing him the pool of saliva.
“Good fucking girl,” he murmurs. You hate the small bloom in your chest those words immediately invoke again. He spits into your mouth for a second time, then with a caress that is too tender he urges you to close your mouth. “Swallow.”
You do.
Andy unbuckles his belt, unbuttons the top of his fly, then unzips and pushes down the waist of his trousers with his briefs, and reveals his hard cock for you.
He’s big.
You had gotten yourself off to the thought of him a few of times late at night alone in your bed, most recently a few days ago, and you hated that you had since you were now here like this, forced on your knees in front of him.
Your core is pulsing with heat at the sight of him though – bigger than you had fantasized, and bigger than any man you’ve been with previously. You know he’ll fill you in a way that will ruin you for other men. You want and dread it.
“Take me in your mouth, sweetheart,” he commands.
Instead of forcing his cock into your mouth, this is more possessive, having you submit yourself to pleasing him of your own accord. You know every way he’s manipulating you.
“If I have to tell you one more time,” he trails off, leaving the end open for your imagination.
You plant one hand softly on his hip and wrap your other hand around his shaft, leaning forward to take him in your mouth. As you push forward, he groans. He won’t hold back when he’s pleased with you – he never has, he knows it affects you. His hands go to either side of your head. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, sucking him, bobbing up and down his length, and for a while he lets you control the speed and the depth, but his hands let you know he can and will control this when he wants to. After the first couple of minutes, he makes this clear when you push back to take a breath and wipe the mix of your spit and his pre-cum dripping out of your mouth and his hands firmly prevent you from moving off him. Instead, he pushes you down slowly – more slowly than you had been pumping – and doesn’t stop until your nose hits his lower abdomen. You try to push against his hips, and he pushes his hips forward with you still anchored on his dick. Your eyes well up.
“So pretty,” he says, “imagined you like this, but you’re more gorgeous than I thought you would be.”
Something in your chest melts. You wish he wouldn’t say things like that. It makes you weaker – weaker for him. He pulls back just an inch or two, then pushes his length into your throat again.
“That’s it, sweetheart, my perfect fucking girl.”
You whimper, and the tears spill over.
His right hand moves away from your face and around behind him. He’s quick, and when you can see his hand again, it’s to discover he’s taken his phone out of his back pocket. He takes photos of you, angling the phone a few different ways. Then he tosses the phone onto the chair where he’d laid his shirt.
Then he resumes his small, concentrated rutting, only easing out just enough to make the thrust back in worth it for him. As he does, he groans, swears, wipes tears from your cheeks, and the moment before it’s too much, he finally pulls you off him.
You fall forward, gasping for deep lungfuls of air, but he’s already putting a hand under your arm and hauling you up.
“Get on the bed,” he instructs, man handling you with surprising ease, doing most of the work your weak and aching legs can’t do to hoist you up onto his Alaskan king bed.
He’s immediately up as well and behind you, the last of his clothing stripped off. His fingers quickly undo the clasp of your bra and pull it off your shoulders and toss it away. He pushes you forward, toppling you down to the mattress. He slaps your ass, and you gasp and jerk. He brings his hand down on your round flesh again, with another sting, but the second one has you moan, and he lets out a satisfied, “Yes,” before giving you a third slap, the hardest, and you moan again, but this one more guttural, and you’d be mortified if you weren’t shocked over the way it translated to pleasure so quickly to your brain.
Then he yanks the lacy underwear roughly down and off your legs, tossing it away as well. He pushes between your legs behind you, splitting your legs open, and his fingers seek your cunt.
He hums in approval, “So wet for me. Ready for me.”
You huff and pant.
He leans over your back, pressing you down into the mattress. “Are you eager for me?”
“Andy,” you whine.
“Say it and I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart.”
You don’t want to. You bury your face in the covers.
He slaps your ass again, and you yelp.
“Admit you want me to fuck you.”
Another slap.
Another.
“Yes,” you finally concede.
“To breed you.”
You gasp, but he’s already hauling you further up the bed, and he drapes himself over your back, arms caging you in on either side of your body. His legs push yours apart as he leans down to press kisses over your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck, along your spine. He uses one hand to guide the thick head of his cock to your leaking entrance. He doesn’t care to stretch you. “Take me in your cunt, sweetheart, it’s mine.”
The only mercy is that he slots himself in slowly.
You press your hands up against the headboard and concentrate on taking deep breaths, on trying to relax your walls completely, because he’s entering you, in you, filling you, unrelenting invasion and it’s pleasure and pain and too much and not enough because every moment of more fullness is exquisite and you can’t even think about holding back the sound he’s pushing out from your diaphragm, up your throat, and out of your mouth, because that’s how it feels as he's filling you.
Once’s he’s fully inside of you, he presses his mouth right next to your ear. “I’m going to fill this pussy with my seed.” He anchors one hand on your hips, then begins pull out, only so he can start thrusting back in. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.”
You’ve never had an orgasm only from vaginal penetration, but the way he fills you as he fucks you, and at this angle, making you almost forget to keep breathing, you wonder if this is how you’ll go, strung out as his cock punishes you with the pleasure, but then his hand works around beneath you and his fingers quickly find your swollen and aching clit. You cry out, and one of your hands reaches back to cling to him, fingers clutching into his hair. He nips at your neck, chuckling darkly.
“My pretty girl, my good girl, taking my cock so well, you close?”
An immediate, “Uh huh,” is all you can manage.
“Then let go,” he commands, pinching your clit harshly.
You see stars, and you cry out for him.
Hearing you scream his name and feeling you clench around him is all he needs, and he pumps his cum into you, saying more dirty, filthy, possessive things, but you don’t know what the words are, because you’re completely lost to coherency.
He sinks his full weight on top of you when he’s completely spent.
Both of you are silent while you come down, heartrates returning to normal.
You wait for him to say whatever he’s going to torment you with next, but he doesn’t speak.
After more long moments, he finally pushes up enough to turn you from your front to your back. He cups your jaw again and strokes his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitches at the intimate gesture in the aftermath.
“Aw, why are you crying now, sweetheart?”
No, you didn’t want more tears, and not these - the soft tears. You try to look away, but he forces your face back to look at him.
“I would have slept with you if you’d asked, Andy, why did you have to do it like this?”
“Because this is so much more than that, sweetheart. I didn’t want to just sleep with you, and I needed you to know from here on out that you’re mine. I own you. I’m very particular about what belongs to me. I didn’t want you to have any illusion that there’s a choice here.”
He brushes the tears off your cheek.
“I’ll have my men move your things here in the morning, and we’ll elope in a few weeks. I’m closing the deal on a resort in Lake Como, doesn’t that sound perfect? We’ll tie the knot and then spend our honeymoon there – we can stay all summer if you want.”
You hesitate.
“No one else is gonna take care of you like I do. Now I asked you, ‘doesn’t that sound perfect?’”
“Yes, Andy,” you whisper.
“Of course, it does.” He finally kisses you – and it’s dangerously soft. Warm lips engulfing yours, insistent, sucking your bottom lip between his. You whimper, and he licks his tongue into your mouth, lapping you up. He rolls over with you, putting him back on the mattress with you on his chest. He holds you pressed to him with one hand, the other hand securing your head so you can’t escape his kiss until he’s done kissing you.
It isn’t until you think you might pass out from how breathless you are that he finally breaks off the kiss. He shifts his pelvis up against you, his cock hardening again. “And I was serious about you carrying my child. But first you’ll ride my face until I’ve made you cry for a good reason, and then I’ll fill you up with more of my seed. You’re not leaving this bed the rest of the weekend.”
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
ARE YOU OKAY? AM I? DO WE EVEN CARE IF WE'RE OKAY?
827 notes · View notes
miserable-sarah · 1 year
Text
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Sit
18+
Pairing: Chris x Reader
Warnings: Cocky Chris, (Dom)Chris, (Sub)R, unprotected sex, cock warming, talking down on you, dirty talk, daddy kink, nsfw
Summary: Chris back from a business trip and very frustrated.
***
“Hi baby!” You yell running up to Chris, you wrap your arms around his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. You give a welcome home kiss, you pull away smiling. He was not.
“Hey” he says putting you back on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” You ask concerned usually he’s all over you when he gets home.
“Nothing” he mumbles grabbing a beer from the fridge. Maybe he just had a rough flight. He walk out the back door to the back yard. You stand in the kitchen unsure what to do. Usually when he’s mad he likes to be alone to work through he’s feelings but he just got back from a 5 day trip he should be all over you. You take a deep breath and put on a tough face. You walk outside.
“Hey” you say louder than you intended. He looks over at you eyebrows raised “uh” you shift uncomfortably “what’s wrong? You’ve been gone for 5 days and then you come hom-“ he cuts you off
“Not right now Y/n” you hesitate to say anything, Chris isn’t scary or abusive in anyway it’s just he’s usually not like this and you don’t want to push him.
“Yes right now” you cross your arms standing your ground. Chris gives you a ‘oh really look’ he moves in his chair so he’s sitting straight up.
“No Y/n not right now” his leg is draped over the chair keeping himself wide open. You bite you lip quickly.
“Why?” You try to keep your mind straight. Chris leans back in his chair and sips his beer. “Why?” You repeat yourself, he still doesn’t answer. He’s ignoring you, he knows how bad that pisses you off. You always tell him it’s one of the worst things he could do. “Are you seriously ignoring me right now?” He just flicks his eyebrow and takes another swig. You scoff and shake your head. You walk back in the house pacing back and forth. What the hell is wrong with him? Ignoring me? He’s been gone for 5 days 5 whole days. You just wanted some love and attention. You walk back outside.
“Why are you ignoring me. I just wanted some attention you’ve been gone for a long time then you come back looking good as ever and you toss me away like garbage.”
“Sit” he says stern not even looking at you.
“What?” You ask confused
“Sit.” He says more stern and hot as ever, he pats his thigh. You feel your knees getting weak and a familiar wetness creeping. You take a second before walking over to his chair. He looks up at you, you put your leg over his and straddle him. He gets inches close to you, you feel his warm breath on your face. Your breathing is shaky. “I said not right now.” Your whole body is confused, you're mad but so turned on you just want him right now. You go to get off him but he grabs your hips hard and forces you to sit on him.
"You just want me to sit here?" You ask, he just looks at you. "And you're going to ignore me?" You ask louder. You try to squirm but he won't let you loose. "Chris really" you sigh, he looks at you and pulls your dress up letting it settle on your hips. You don't say anything you just let him do what he wants. He slowly slides his hand down to your lacy thong just rubbing slow circles on the fabric. You bite your lip trying to hide any moans or demands you want to scream out. He slowly slips your panties to the side. You let out a little whimper, he tapped on your clit making you shiver.
"Unbuckle my belt" He says quietly, you do as he says. You undo his belt and hand it to him. “Good girl” he praises he grabs your arms “ behind your back baby” he says sweetly but there’s a stern dominance in his tone. You put your hands behind your back and he ties his belt around your wrists. “Go ahead grind on me” he puts his arms behind his head. You let out a shaker breath and start grinding on him, the friction of his jeans rubbing against you just right makes you let out a moan. “That’s good” he encourages you, you move a little faster. You can feel your slick getting on his jeans, you know he loves it just as much as you do.
“Are you going to” you pause letting out a little moan “are you going to fuck me daddy?” You ask licking your lips.
“Not yet. You don’t know how to listen.” He shakes his head giving you a disappointed look. You throw your head back with groan, you should’ve listened to him and left him alone but you just had to stand your ground. “Lean back” you do and he brings his hand to your clit rubbing it fast.
“Oh” you moan loudly he sticks a finger in thrusting it at a good pace “please I’m sorry” you try to beg. His other hand open his fly and brings out his hard huge cock. “Fuck” you moan just at the sight of him. He chuckles at you and your desperation. Chris removes his fingers.
“Sit on it” he smirks at you. You waste no time, you hover him and start to slowly sink down, he grabs your hips and slams you down on him. You let out a loud moan and so does he. You try to move but he holds you there. Still.
“It’s okay baby I can move” he laughs at you. Your eyebrows furrow confused
“No honey you’re not moving” he says in a mocking tone. “You’re going to sit here and keep my cock warm since you want to be so needy and not listen to what I say” you groan in frustration “no complaining, no moving, no talking or you won’t cum tonight understand?” He asks you throw your head back “understand!?” He says louder
“Yes daddy” you say defeated. Chris goes on his phone placing bets on a game. You sit there thinking about just moving up and down, he couldn’t resist you. Or maybe he could. You close your eyes trying to control yourself. You think about talking dirty to him, telling him his thick cock filling you up feels so good, and how much you’ve missed him and the way he makes you feel. You open your mouth but don’t say anything like a good girl. Chris moves his hips causing him to move a little deeper. You close your eyes tightly and bite your lip. Fuck this going to be hard. He’s going to tease you the whole time. You open your eyes and look at him. His perfect face, his amazingly good jaw line just asking for kisses, his perfect plumb lips looking the same. His large hands makes you more wet, his chest isn’t bare but his shirt is tight enough to show his muscles. God he was perfect and making you so horny that you just want to move and get fucked. Or at least just lay on him and cuddle, but mostly get fucked.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks smirking putting his phone down. You hesitate on answering not knowing if you should. “I told you no moving and you were just moving”
“I-I didn’t mean to. Promise”
“Don’t do it again. I mean it” he goes back on his phone placing his stupid bets. You patience running thin. He moves again making you whimper very quietly. You pray he didn’t hear you.
After sitting there for about a half hour you lean forward, your body was losing balance since he tied your hands behind your back. You lay on his chest and look up at him.
“Tired baby?” He asks making fun of you. You nod your head. His arms wrap around you and hold you to his chest. “Daddy’s almost done. You’re doing good” he kisses your head. You smile feeling good. He thrusts into you randomly, you let out a moan. “Was that a moan?” You shake your head no quickly “now your lying?” He tsks at you “well that’s what bad girls do” he repositions you, you bite your lip so hard you think you’re drawing blood. He picks you up and walks you inside you keep your mouth shut the entire time. He lays you on the couch. “I said no moving, no talking, no noises.”
“I didn’t mean to” you plead “you moved and you know”
“I really don’t want to punish you, but you broke the rules” he says picking you up standing you in front of him. He sits on the couch spreading his legs so you can get in between them. He unbuttons his pants and slips them off. “Knees” you fall on your knees and get in front of him. He pushes your hair out of your face and guides you down to his cock. You start sucking on the tip slowly.
“No teasing bullshit you’re already in enough trouble” his hand pumps what your mouth can’t reach, you take as much as you can as possible. You lick and suck on him like your life depends on it because right now it feels like it does. You hear Chris’ groans which turns you on even more. He reaches over and unties your hands. You pump him and suck, his hand grabs a fistful of your hair and shoves you down on his cock. You choke but stay put not fighting him. You can feel spit falling down your chin, he loves when you look this sloppy, this desperate. He lets you go and take deep breath’s looking at him through your eyelashes.
“You’re doing so good chocking on my cock just how I like” he praises moving hair out of your face once again. He looks at how swollen your lips are, how red your cheeks are, how your chin is covered in spit. “My needy dumb baby” he coos. You go back to bobbing your head back and forth working up the courage to take him all again. You moan just listening to his. You push your head down taking him all again. “God look at you, taking all of me. Just like you should.” You can feel tears rolling down your cheeks but you don’t stop. He yanks on your hair pulling up then pushing you back down. He lets out a loud moan before pulling you back up. You wipe your chin, he stands you up and so does he. He smashes his lips on yours, you kiss back sloppy. Just wanting all of him.
“I need you” you whine. He chuckles and lays you down on the couch. “Please daddy” you beg “please fuck me” he crawls on top of you, his fingers go straight to your clit rubbing it making you squirm. “Please no teasing” he kisses your neck sucking on the spots he knows you like. He moves his lips right to your ear
“I’m supposed to punish you. You were a bad girl. Too needy. Too dumb to stay still for daddy” he whispers you can feel tears in your eyes, you want him so bad.
“Daddy, I’m sorry so sorry. Please I need you” you say meaning and groaning. Chris looks at you studying your face. He kisses your lips sweetly.
“Fine.” He says you feel so relieved you smile.
“Thank you daddy I’ll be good I promise.” He positions himself in front of you and slips the tip in.
“You’re soaking wet for me huh?” You bite your lip and nod waiting for him to go in fully. “How bad do you want me?”
“So bad, I need you. I need you to fuck me so good I can’t remember my name” he smirks at you and thrusts into you. He goes almost all the way out and right back in bottoming out in you, it feels so good you could scream. He keeps hard thrusting into you making your back arch.
“Feel good? Look at you falling apart on my cock.” His eyes never leave yours “taking my cock so well.” He says through his teeth. You close your eyes tight letting out loud moans. You feel your body heating up, you know you’re not gonna last long. It’s all because of the waiting.
“Close already?” He teases “my dumb baby so pathetic can’t even last a minute when I have my cock buried in her” you moan even more listening to his words.
“Daddy I-“ you try to say but can’t “I”
“Go ahead cum all over my cock” you do as said and cum hard your legs start shaking, your eyes roll in the back of your head you see stars. You scream his name loudly. When you come down from your high you realize Chris never slowed down for a second. He’s still pounding you, your legs keep shaking and your body keeps squirming. Chris rubs your clit making you squirm more.
“Chris please” you beg not even sure what your begging for. It’s a lot of pleasure you don’t know how to react. Chris pins you down with his body trying to keep you still. “Oh my god!” You moan out
“Fuck” he groans. He stops everything and pulls out. He stands up and lifts you up throwing you over his shoulder taking you up stairs. You lay there lifeless enjoying the break. He throws you on the bed and you get into position, hands and knees. He comes behind you, he brings his hand down slapping your ass then rubbing it. He slaps you again making you jump and whimper. He lines himself and slips in you. He holds onto your hips and pounds into you over and over again. You bite the sheet trying to muffle your moans it’s not working though. He pulls your hair bending your head back.
“I love fucking this pussy. You fit me so well.” He groans, you can’t form words or even speak. You feel another tightness coming on. Chris leans on you whispering dirty things in your ear. Saying how much you’re made for him, how you’re just his dumb little baby, how your pussy was made for him, how dumb you are that you can’t even make words. Chuckling at you making fun of you and you love every word and every second.
“I” you start to say but can’t finish. Your brain won’t work, your drooling, your legs are shaking, you’re face down in the bed barely able to keep your body up. He’s holding your hips up. You moan loudly your legs shaking, your vision goes black, you can’t hear anything. You are in complete and total pleasure, you’re pretty sure your screaming bug you can’t tell.
“Good girl” he says kissing your back. Chris thrusts a few more times before getting sloppy. “You want me to fill you up? Fill this pussy up?” You nod your head yes. “Say it”
You try to gather yourself enough to say something but only moans and whimpers come out. He slaps your ass a few times.
“Please daddy” you say breathless “cum in me” you groan. He kisses your back again, his thrusts even more sloppy, his moans and groans still getting to you. He pulls out and flips you over, he sets your legs on top of his shoulders and slams into you again.
“I want to look at you when I cum” he explains. You throw your head back enjoying the new position. “Look at me” he says to you tapping your face. You look him in the eyes biting your lip.
“Cum daddy, make me feel full” he kisses your neck biting on it.
“Fuck” he groans “you feel so good around me” he nibbles at your ear. He at you and kisses you softly. You can feel yourself filling with warm cum. You sigh at the feeling.
“I love you” you whisper. Chris pulls out and flops on the bed next to you. “I love you too” he says catching his breath. You move over laying on his chest.
“I missed you” you say breathlessly
“I know I could tell” he chuckles pulling you closer.
“I’m serious” you laugh. “And you were mean” you pout at him.
“I know I’m sorry” he sighs
“What was the problem?”
“Honestly?” He looks at you “I missed you the whole time and had a terrible trip all I wanted when I came through the door and saw you in that dress was pound the fuck out of you” you look at him confused “I just pretended to be mad”
“Chris” you say hitting his chest laughing “you could’ve just had sex with me”
“I wanted it to be fun” he wiggles his eyebrows. You shake your head and give him a kiss. “Alright I’ll get up and get you cleaned up. Tomorrow it’s stay in bed all day and do whatever daddy says day” he winks at you. You smile and nod agreeing.
6K notes · View notes
flordeamatista · 1 year
Text
𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚
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pairing:  soft dark!professor andy barber x reader
concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap , edging, fingering,  fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited,  power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)
a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.
the cute gif and moodboard made by me
line divider: @s-tarksintern
lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming
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Masterlist
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His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire
After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.
As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you. 
It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.
Now, who do you break your rules for?
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"Professor Barber..."
You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.
"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.
You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded.  Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.
Your email glared back at you, taunting you :
Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.
 The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.
Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.
You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow  staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.
Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.
A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart. 
As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.
In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into  yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email." 
Nervously, you swallowed.
How could you be so stupid to send him that email?
It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.
"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."
The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs. 
You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”
You paused.
Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"
It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.
"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.
You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when  it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt. 
"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.
Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel  the wetness that was his.
"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."
You lost control from the  the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed  that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman. 
"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.
Was this an exam of desire?
"You are such a-"
Your insult cut short by a harsh slap. 
The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire. 
"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.
But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.
The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.
"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter. 
Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."
Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send”  The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.
You are sober but drunk with desire.  His desire. His attention.
You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.
A man who just needed you.
With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.
"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.
In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.
His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body
"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled  his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"
You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him. 
Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.
“Professor…”
"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"
“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat. 
You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.
“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.
A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.
“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."
You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy. 
Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.
"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the neck to stand straight.
“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.” 
You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut
Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.
Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.
Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat. 
You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.
Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.
Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your head, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair. 
He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping  around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.
The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.
The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down  on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.
"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"
He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy. 
His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.
“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end. 
You knew his game of seduction.
You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.
“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.
The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.
“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut
The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.
“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”
“Please…” you begged.
"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"
Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.
He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.
Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.
It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop." 
Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "
It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.". 
Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.
"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.
A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?" 
You couldn’t answer him.  You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.
Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.
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The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on. 
You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.
To know what is his, he needs to see it.
In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.
Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.
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4K notes · View notes
krirebr · 2 months
Text
Caught Up in Your Trap
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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! 💜
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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sunshinebuckybarnes · 6 months
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time to go home
Pairing: Mob!Andy Barber x female!reader
Summary: You thought you'd slipped out of his grasp but you should have known better than to underestimate Andy Barber.
Warnings: petnames (honey), dark!Andy, threats of violence, controlling behaviour. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.
Author's note: It's rare I go a bit dark but this was very fun to write and I am not above writing more (word count: 659)
"You look beautiful, honey."
Your blood runs cold at the sound of his voice. The deep baritone causes goosebumps to rise across your skin and a shiver to run down your spine.
You had been so careful. You changed your name. You moved state. You waited. You waited years before letting yourself live again. Before letting yourself believe you were safe, that he would never find you.
You'd been wrong.
His name is nothing but a whisper on your lips as you urge yourself not to cry.
You hear the door shut softly the lock clicking into place as your heart sinks.
"I told you I'd find you."
His voice is closer now and you know better than to turn around. You can feel your muscles tensing with every painful second that passes as you wait for him to come closer to you.
This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. In thirty minutes you were supposed to be walking down the aisle to start the rest of your life with the man you loved.
"You don't love him, honey. Not like you love me."
You spin around on instinct, forgetting exactly who you are dealing with as you prepare to give him a piece of your mind.
"How dare-"
He cuts you off with a laugh and a tight grip on your jaw.
"How dare I?" he laughs, but there's no humour there. Pulling you closer until you're against his chest, wincing as his fingers dig into your cheeks. "How dare you, honey. I've got to say you didn't make it easy. How long has it been exactly?"
You don't answer. Putting all your energy into keeping your tears at bay as you look into the cold eyes of the man you once loved, the man you now feared.
If you had known what Andy was, you would have never let yourself fall into his trap. But, hindsight was a wonderful thing.
Andy was charming, doting, protective and handsome. He was everything a girl dreamed of. He treated you like a queen, you wanted for nothing.
But there were two sides to every coin.
For as charming as Andy was he was just as manipulative. For as doting, he could be just as cold and indifferent. For as protective, he was even more possessive.
You knew Andy was a powerful man from the moment you met him but you had no idea just how much power and influence he possessed.
He made you dependent on him, had you let go from your job, and cut off from your family and friends. You became isolated. He was your only source of comfort and he never let you forget it.
"That's not what love is, Andy," you whisper, no longer able to keep your tears at bay.
The dark look in his eye should scare you but you've seen it enough times. Accustomed to what it means and you know you're not getting out of this this time.
"Just please don't hurt him," you whimper. Thinking about your fiance waiting for you at the end of the aisle.
Andy shushes you gently, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks, "Oh honey, you're really not in a position to be making demands."
Your eyes widen as a sob tears out of your throat.
Sighing, Andy rolls his eyes at your tears, clearly bored by your attachment to a man who isn't him.
"Fine, I'll let him live," Andy concedes, one hand slipping down to wrap around your throat.
You choke on a sob as his hand tightens enough to convey his next warning.
"But if you ever try and leave me again, I will put a bullet between the eyes of everyone you care about. Do you understand?"
You nod weakly, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.
"Good girl," he purrs, placing a soft kiss against your lips and sealing your fate, "let's go home."
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This was fun!! I wouldn't mind writing more if any one has any thoughts... thank you for reading, as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ✨💜
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rogersbarber · 3 months
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All fics and blogs recommendations!!
Will be updated once in a while to add new fics recommendations!
ALL the credits belongs to the amazing blogs who write this fics 🫶🏼
WARNING: some of this fics are +18 so please read carefully and definitely follow this blogs bc they're great ❤️
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navybrat817 · 9 months
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As Red as a Ruby
Pairing: Soft Dark!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You're still finding your footing as a stay-at-home spouse. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Andy Barber (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Andy and Ruby's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You suppressed a sigh as you checked your perfectly manicured nails and waited for the casserole to finish. The last time you attempted this meal, you burned the food and the dish. You weren't going to win any cooking awards anytime soon, but you were trying your best for Andy. He deserved to come home to a nice meal.
Even if you needed to get help from one of the other wives.
A well-fed husband is a happy husband.
Rose reminded you earlier on the phone to check whether the top was browned and crisped, and to make sure the liquid had significantly decreased. She also noted to use a food thermometer once finished to ensure you cooked the dish thoroughly at 165 degrees. Admittedly, it already looked and smelled better than the last attempt as you checked it through the glass. That had to be a good sign.
Andy will appreciate a home cooked meal.
You blinked when the timer went off, praying you didn't drop the dish as you grabbed the oven mitt and carefully removed it. "Shit. Come on," you muttered to yourself as you tried to shut the door with your foot, getting it on the second attempt before you set the food down. After a moment, you laughed at yourself and grabbed the thermometer. Looking the part of a housewife was easy, but actually living it?
It's what I signed up for though. I'm a housewife in progress and my husband is proud of me.
"What's that?" you heard from the doorway.
"Fuck!" you yelled, the thermometer falling to the floor with a clatter as you clutched your chest. "Jesus, Andy. You scared the shit out of me," you said, your heart pounding still as you took a calming breath.
A good wife should speak like a lady.
Your husband casually leaned against the frame with a chuckle. He already had his jacket off and loosened his tie. You hadn't even heard him come in. You must've been too invested in making sure dinner turned out right. It didn't surprise you in the least that he stood quietly for God knows how long.
He liked to watch you.
"Sorry, honey. I didn't mean to scare you," he said all too innocently as you frowned at him. "You're lucky Steve isn't here. He'd scold you for that language."
"Steve isn't my husband," you pointed out.
Thank God for that. I wouldn't last one week as his wife.
Most of the men expected a certain level of decorum out of their partners, but Andy was lenient as long as you didn't embarrass him.
"No, he isn't. I might take issue if you suddenly wanted him," Andy agreed, crossing the room to press a kiss to your warm cheek. "You made a casserole."
You straightened up a little. He kept his tone light, but you wondered if he was judging it. And you. "I tried. Rose gave me some tips."
"That was kind of her. And probably the best one to give you advice since she's one of the best cooks on the block."
A twisted sort of smile formed on your face. Though you agreed that Rose was a wonderful cook, you couldn't help the surge of envy that worked its way into your chest as you thought of her and the other wives. Cherry baked the best treats. Rumor had it that Ginger wanted to start teaching exercise classes for the other wives.
What the hell do I bring to the table?
"Yeah, she is," you said, bitterness creeping in as you bent down to snatch up the thermometer.
Andy stepped back to let you go to the sink. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Nope," you said, glancing over your shoulder when you felt his deep blue eyes on you.
"I don't like it when you lie to me," he said in a low voice.
You almost dropped the thermometer again. Andy grew up in a world of secrets and lies. Though it shaped him into the man you loved, he didn't want you to keep anything from him, especially after his first marriage fell apart. No matter how big or small the issue or what your feelings were, he wanted the truth.
A good wife is truthful with her husband.
"It's just," you started as you tore your gaze away, not wanting him to see the vulnerability in your eyes. "I suck at this homemaker thing, Andy. I'll never be able to make masterpieces like Rose or anyone else. I'm lucky I don't iron a hole in your shirts."
"You know I couldn't care less about your cooking skills or any of that," he said, slipping his arms around your waist from behind. You went limp in his hold, happy that he wasn't upset. "That's not why I'm with you."
Why are you?
"Don't you mean my lack of skills?" you mumbled.
"Well, I didn't want to say anything, but…" he teased, brushing his beard along the column of your neck. "You're special to me, okay? Isn't that enough?"
Warmth replaced the envy that previously bloomed in your chest. While Andy wasn't a hero in the traditional sense like Steve or Bucky, he helped many as a lawyer. With his confidence, charm, and good looks, he could have anyone he wanted. Choosing you to be his side was much more than a dream come true.
It was a chance at a better life.
"It's more than enough," you promised.
"Before we sit down to eat, there is something we need to talk about," he said, turning you around to face him. "Something I need you to do for me."
"What is it?"
"I'm sure you already heard through the grapevine that Bucky has a wife," he said.
You nodded. Like the other wives, you were sure she had some kind of skill or hobby that would make Bucky a proud husband. You wondered how the two of you would get along. The last thing you needed to do was piss off the wife of the former Winter Soldier.
Her opinion doesn't matter. Only Andy's.
"Steve and Cherry plan to have a small get together after they get settled to welcome her to the neighborhood."
"And you want me to make her feel welcome?" you guessed.
"Cherry is the welcome wagon. You are going to keep an eye out for her," he corrected you. "The Haven is amazing, but it can be a bit of an adjustment. We need to make sure she fits in and falls in line. Be her friend. Be her confidant if you need to."
A good wife does what her husband says.
"I'll be her friend," you assured him, especially if it meant Andy would be happy. "Have you met her?"
"Not yet. They're still in their honeymoon phase," Andy replied.
So she's getting her back blown out.
"But you come right to me if anything feels wrong," he said, grasping your chin so you knew how serious he was. "Understood?
"I'll make sure she knows her place if she forgets it," you promised.
The Haven is euphoric and every wife is lucky to be here.
"Thank you," he smiled before he softly kissed your lips. You melted into it, the casserole long forgotten as you opened your mouth to him. He ended the kiss just as abruptly as it started, leaving you wanting more. "I'm sure we have nothing to worry about, but we can't be too careful."
"Of course," you smiled.
However Andy needs me to help, I'll do it.
"Now why don't you set the table while I pour us some wine?" he suggested, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip. "That red one you love."
You nibbled on his thumb with a smirk. For everything you lacked in the traditional sense, you kept him happy sexually. A faithful, giving wife through and through. "Good because the white one gives me a headache."
"We can't have that now, can we?"
"No, we can't," you said, sneaking another kiss in before you slipped out of his hold to get the plates.
"Oh, Ruby?" he asked.
"Yeah?"
"I'm proud of you for cooking," he said sincerely, your cheeks hot from the praise. "And I know you'll keep making me proud, won't you?" he said, turning the stove off for you.
"I will," you smiled.
"That's my girl."
I'll be the best wife for you and more.
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Everything is FINE. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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thesexydevils · 1 year
Text
The Psychologist
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only.
I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted anywhere even if you give credit. But please re-blog and comment. Thank you!
Pairing: Criminal/Mafia Bucky x female reader
Summary: You, a young criminal psychologist, takes up a task with the government to study and make reports on the worst criminals in NY. One of them is James Buchanan Barnes.
Warnings: 18+ only, Dark fic, Noncon, breeding, blood, violence, force. GIF is not mine!
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“Hello Dr. L/N, I got the call just an hour ago. Are you sure you want to do that?” You were sitting in front of him in your black dress pants and a beige sweater. 
“Director, I can see you are not a fan of this but it is my job to study and understand humans like them.” His humorless laugh interrupted you and then he looked dead into your eyes. “Humans? This place is not made for humans. This prison is for those who are the scums of the society. Even animals are better than the monsters we cage here.”
You looked out of the window, the sky was gray with dark clouds. It was pouring outside and the gloomy weather made you low spirited. You took a deep breath and looked back at the man sitting behind the beg desk.
“Director Foster, I understand your hatred and disgust for the prisoners or as you said monsters, but right now you are stopping me from doing my job. I am here, because the Governor has appointed me to make a thorough report on the most dangerous criminals. This report is not only to see how dangerous they are, but also to see how and why they become like this.”
You took out the official letter out of your bag and handed it over to him. “I know you are worried that he will put them in a normal prison or pardon some of the crimes, but I assure you that this will never happen. Our goal is only to prevent others from becoming  monsters.”
Director Foster leaned back in his chair and thought for a minute. “Fine Dr. L/N, but realize that you are putting yourself in danger. These are not just some thieves or drug dealers, most of them are criminal masterminds. Some of them will study you as you will them and play mind games.” 
You nodded and told him that you will keep that in mind. As the door opened you picked your bag and stood up. A guard stepped in to take you to the first inmate, but before you left the office you heard the Director again. 
“ Doctor, 2 guards will wait outside the room when you are alone with the prisoners and their hands and feet will be cuffed to the chairs. But still don't go near them.”
“I understand Director. Thank you.” 
On the way to the room you talked with the guard. Apparently not many guards lasted longer than 3 years. The longest one worked 8 years but last year he had a breakdown and never came back on duty. 
According to the young officer, he was a tough man with a military background, but one of the inmates got under his skin and made him lose his mind.
“Officer Peterson, can you get the inmates file and then get him too?” The Officer stilled for a moment, it took a few seconds for him to react. He turned around and looked a bit uneasy about your request. “ Are you sure Doctor? Maybe you should start with someone else?”
“Officer, I am sure, please bring him first.” He nodded and left without a word. You looked around the room, it looked like an interrogation room. With 2 chairs and a small table in between. You sat down behind the table and read through the file. 
Name: James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky
Born: 10. March 1984 in Brooklyn, NY
Criminal charges: 42 murders (31 first degree, 9 second degree), smuggling of weapons, drugs and humans, kidnapping, rape,...
Before you could read more the door opened, Officer Peterson entered the room. 2 other Officers were holding the tall man you were just reading about. He was roughly pushed down on the chair and the chains around his body were tightened and secured on the chair. 
You thanked the Officers as they left the room and Peterson took his place outside beside the door.
You looked back at the man sitting in front of you, when he jerked his head and his long dark brown hair flipped to the sides. This was the first time you saw his face, he had a short untamed beard.
He was gorgeous, but him being a criminal left a bitter taste in your mouth, so you pushed all other thoughts out of your mind.
“James Buchanan Barnes, I am Dr. Y/N L/N. I am a criminal psychologist, my job is to understand the motivations of criminals, clinical evaluation of a defendant and criminal profiling. I work with the FBI and sometimes with the police too. You are one of the few people I will be profiling and making some reports.”
Your eyes met his, a cold feeling went down your spine. It was like his cold and dark eyes could see directly into your soul. But you still held eye contact with him, even knowing he was making a profile of you like you were making his.
You asked him questions about his childhood and parents, but he just sat there without answering any of it. After 40 minutes of trying to get him to speak up about his childhood, you stopped. The whole time he didn’t move, never said a word or looked away from you.
“Mr. Barnes, I will be back in 3-4 days and hopefully you will be more cooperative.” You called Officer Peterson in the room and in a few minutes he and 2 other Officers were untying him. As the three were about to leave the room you said to him. “Goodbye Mr. Barnes.”
“Bucky!” You looked shocked at him, this was the first time you heard him speak. He only smirked at your reaction. The Officers pulled him out and closed the door, leaving you with Officer Peterson.
“That was weird, no one calls him Bucky here. All the other prisoners call him Barnes. Doctor, you should be careful around him. Barnes likes to play mind games.”
You nodded and sat down again. The officers brought another prisoner, but Barnes was the one you kept thinking of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Exactly on the third day you were back and entered the room when James Barnes was already on the chair and secured. You greeted the officers and took your seat behind the desk.
Like the last time his eyes were staring only at you. You took out your notepad and started talking. “ Mr. Barnes I hope today you will be more talkative than the last time. Can we talk today about your childhood?”
You heard him chuckle lightly. “Bucky, call me Bucky doll. Why should I tell you anything about me? Don’t you think I should get something out of it too?”
I saw the slight smirk on his face. “Mr. Barnes if you have forgotten then let me remind you that I am only a psychologist. I don’t have the authority to make any kind of deals or promises.”
He moved his head to the side and looked directly into my eyes. “Don’t worry doll, it is something you can do to make this fun for both of us. For the last time, call me Bucky or this conversation is over.” 
The way he said the word fun, made your heart skip a beat. Not because you found it pleasant, but because it sounded more like a threat to you.
“Okay tell me Mr. Bar... I mean Bucky.” His tongue moved over his lower lip and he bit on it. “See it wasn’t that hard. I want to play a game. A game that wouldn’t be hard for you to play. The game is 20 Questions.” That took you by surprise and seeing his reaction, you could tell he was enjoying the expressions on your face.
“What the ...? Why this game? We are not teenagers or on a date.” He laughed, like a real genuine laugh. “Come on doll, it is not everyday that a beautiful woman comes in here to spend some time with someone like me. Just humor me a bit and I promise to behave and not ask any dirty questions.”
Bucky winked at you and you could only roll your eyes at him. His behavior shocked you. It was like day and night. You had to be careful around him and not share much information about you or your personal life.
“Okay fine, tell me about your family.?” “I had a normal family. My mother was a faithful christian and my father was a hardworking man in Brooklyn and then there was my older brother Nick. Joined the military and a few years later died in Afghanistan.”
You were about to apologize but were interrupted by him. “What is your favorite color?”
“Really? Purple. Okay what was the turning point in your life?”
“If you believe that something really bad happened that made me like this, then no, there was not a turning point in my life. Why did you become a criminal psychologist”
You took a minute to answer this question. “My sister was killed. Why did you become a criminal?”
“I am sorry about your sister.” Your vision narrowed at him and you could help but to scoff at his heartless apology. “No, you don’t. You felt nothing at all.” “ Well doll, that's what normal people say, don’t they?”
You snorted derisively at him. “Normal people? Bucky, you are far from normal people. Just answer my question.”
“Don’t be so cold, doll. It does not suit you and I wasn’t making fun of you.” His cold eyes turned mischief and he shifted his head to the side. “I always felt peaceful when I could bend people or situations to my will and to do this you need power. And power comes from money, the money that you can’t get by working a 9-5 job.”
“So you kill for money and what about the women you raped? They didn’t deserve that, no one does.”  
His laugh was cold and humorless. “Doll, it’s my turn. Play fair and don’t be naughty. Why was your sister killed?”
Fury flooded you, as the dark thoughts came back. The room turned quiet, but your heart  beat throbbed in your ears. You felt like the time had slowed and the clock on the wall was ticking louder. One minute turned into two and then into five, but he did not say anything or asked again.
A loud knock on the door told you that the time was over and you felt relieved knowing that now you could breathe normally again.
The officers entered the room, but Bucky kept staring at you without saying anything at all. He was pulled by two officers but before they left called you. “Doll, we will continue this in 2 days. I will be waiting for you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Almost a week went by, but you didn’t see him again. Of course you were there and met with other inmates, but  somehow you couldn’t talk to him again. Barnes got under your skin and it scared you, because you met many criminals but only a handful people were this manipulative.
You were in the prison waiting in the room for him. Not because it was your decision, but because you got a call from the prison director. The director told you that Barnes had beaten an inmate almost to death, because he was telling all that you were very beautiful and nice. Somehow Barnes heard him talk about you and broke 4 ribs, 3 fingers and his jaw.
The inmate was in intensive care because of the head trauma and Barnes was held in solitary confinement. But it didn’t go well, because he banged his head against the wall till he started bleeding. The only thing Barnes wanted was to see you again and so you were waiting again for him.
You heard loud footsteps outside and you prepared yourself for him. “Doll, you came. I have been waiting for you.” You were weirded out as he was smiling so brightly, like he hadn’t almost killed a man and then went full psycho on himself.
He willingly sat down and when the officers were ready he shooed them out of the room. “So Doll, tell me, what did you do last week?” 
“Mr Barnes, do you think this is funny? You almost killed a man and then went crazy on yourself.” he only laughed at me.
“It is your fault, you shouldn’t have avoided me and then you visited other guys here. It made me angry and right now you are pissing me too. I have told you to call me Bucky.”
The way his mood changed scared you. But you were going to end this now. “Bucky, you are not a part of the group I am working with anymore. I don’t think we will get any clear results if I am going to do the clinical evaluation, that’s why my colleague will do it.” 
You thought he would get angry at you but he just smirked and said. “Really, we will see about this later, but now let's continue our game. Last time it was my turn, but I am going to change the question for you. So you had a sister, are there other family members?”
You looked away pinching the bridge of your nose. “My personal life is none of your business. I know you are trying to manipulate and play your sick mind games with me, but I will not let this happen.”
You stood up with your purse and went to the door, but then you heard him speak again. “
Mr. D/N L/N your dad is a professor at NYU and your mom, Mrs. M/N L/N is a family lawyer. With 3 children, the oldest daughter was killed then you came and after you there is a brother who is studying law. Then there is your boyfriend who is an assistant district attorney. Met while working on a case 3 years ago, he just proposed to you a few weeks ago. How sweet.”
“How the fuck do you know this? Did you bribe a ward to get the information?” He chuckled at you and said, “It’s all about power, love. You think, just because I am in a prison I don’t have the power anymore? Of course I do have the power, why do you think they didn’t take any actions? Because doll, I have the money and if I say jump they will only say how high.”
The anger in you was rising, but you stopped yourself from screaming at him. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you panic. You quietly stood up and packed your things and went to the door, but stopped when you heard him speak again. “Y/N, break up with your fiance. It will be much easier for you and it will also be better for him if you break his heart now then I break his neck later.”
Cold fear spiraled through you, as you heard him threaten your love Andy. You harshly turned around and started shouting at him. “Don’t you dare ... don’t you fucking dare to threaten my love or my family. James Buchanan Barnes I am glad you are rotting in this prison and one day you will die like any other disgusting low life.”
Hearing you scream the guards enter the room and it made you feel a bit better. You told them to take him back to his cell. Officer Peterson was talking to you, trying to calm you down. All of sudden one of the officers was lying on the floor with a bloody nose. The other one took his truncheon, but before he could land a hit Bucky grabbed him and banged his head on the table again and again, till his face was covered in blood. 
Officer Peterson was as shocked as you were and he tried his best to protect you from him as he could. Bucky smiled sickly at you when Peterson got in between and tried to overpower Bucky, but you just heard a ugly cracking sound. 
You stood, frozen with fear as his tall figure moved closer towards you. You tried to run past him but he was fast and graped your neck and pinned you to the wall. 
No sound escaped your mouth, as he moved his face closer to your neck. You tried to scream as you felt his wet tongue on your neck, but Bucky covered your mouth with his hand. “No doll, not yet. I want to hear you scream, when I will push my cock into your small cunt. You taste so sweet and I bet your pussy tastes sweeter. Fuck I can’t wait to have you. See how perfectly you fit against me.” 
Bucky pressed his hard on in your stomach, tears rolled down your eyes. You tried to shove him away, but the bastard only chuckled and licked your tears away. “Hmm, tasty.”
A half dozen officers ran into the room and pulled Bucky off you. One of them hit him on the back of the knees and the other one took him in a headlock, but Bucky just grinned like it was the most amusing thing in the world. 
“I will see you soon doll.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After all the disaster you were not in the right mind space, you didn’t even remember entering the directors office or him talking to you. Only after Andy arrived and crunched down to your level and held your face in his hands did you come out of the shock.
You broke into tears and hugged him tightly. Andy whispered sweet and encouraging things to you. About 10 minutes later you both were leaving the prison building and led you to his car. All the while you didn’t say a word to him and he didn’t push you to talk.
You closed your eyes as soon as he started the car and in less than 5 minutes you were lulled in a dreamless sleep.
After 3 months you were back to normal like you used to be. Andy was a sweetheart, always taking care of you and supporting your decisions. You continued your assignment in the prison but you stayed in the right wing only with another psychologist in the room.
It was a beautiful day, Andy and you had finally decided a wedding date and the venue was booked. You were out with your friends, helping you with other wedding related matters. Andy was free today and he was all happy to stay home and cook dinner for you. 
Surprisingly he was a fabulous cook and you were really excited for tonight, because you had some dresses in mind. You said your goodbyes to your best friends and entered your car and drove back to your apartment. 
Shortly after you arrived at home and even before you opened the door you smelled the heavenly delicious Italian garlic bread. You entered your home, it was dark inside and only the fairy lights gave you the directions to the living room. A table was set with a red wine bottle and the food. You saw Andy’s silhouette and smiled at him.
The beautiful moment was disturbed by your mobile. “Andy, give me two minutes. I will make it quick.” You turned around and left the room and picked up. “Dr. L/N there is bad news ... the prisoner James Barnes escaped from prison with the help of his team. Please stay safe ...” The mobile slipped from your fingers and you ran back in the room. You hastily turned the light on, but when you looked at Andy, you screamed out.
You ran up to him, softly touching his bloody face. His hands were bound on his back and a dishcloth was stuffed in his mouth. You reached to pull it out, but suddenly you were yanked away from him. 
Bucky caged you in his arms, his chest rubbed against your back and his face was between your shoulder and neck. He took a deep breath and spoke huskily in your ear. “I missed you doll. 3 fucking months ... Do you know how pissed I was when you visited, but never  came to meet me. But don’t worry we will catch up soon.”
“Andy!” You called out his name, he looked up at you. His blood dripped down his chin. Bucky saw this and chuckled lightly and nibbled the soft flesh on your neck. One of his hands slipped under your blouse and grabbed your boob. 
Seeing this Andy screamed but his voice was muffled by the cloth. You shrieked in pain when Bucky bit your shoulder blade. Andy screamed again and tried to pull himself from the chair, but his beaten up body was not helping much. 
Bucky grabbed your hair harshly and pushed you forward to Andy. He yanked the cloth out of his mouth and spoke to him very softly. “Andy, between us men, how is she in the bed? I bet she is a wild pussy cat. Look at her how sweet and innocent she looks.” 
He pushed her face near Andy’s. “Barnes, let her go! Please, just let her go. Don’t hurt her.”
Bucky tugged you back and pinning your body against his. “Hurt? I am not going to hurt her. I am going to fuck her. You have no idea how much I wanted to do that the first time he came to the prison.” Without any warning his lips were on you. You punched his chest, but he did not stop. 
“Barnes, let her go. You fucking bastard. I will kill you, just leave her alone. Fuck, I will kill you. Fuck...” One moment he was forcing his tongue in your mouth and the next moment you were on the floor. Before you realized what happened, you heard an ugly stabbing sound. You turned your face back and saw a kitchen knife in Bucky's hand.
Everything stilled around you as you saw the blood running down the knife's edge. Bucky stabbed Andy a second time in his stomach, as you crawled towards him. “ No, no,no. Please, no! Andy, baby no. Please don’t leave me. Andy ...”
But Bucky picked  you up and threw you on his shoulder and walked to Andy and your bedroom. You tried to grab Andy’s shoulder, but could reach him. 
You were tossed on the bed and somehow it knocked the air out of your lungs. Bucky pinned you down on the bed, but you lashed out. You hit, punched and scratched his face, shoulders and arms, but nothing moved him away from you.
You screamed and cried. “No, please let me go. Don’t do this. Andy, HELP! ANDYY!”
A sudden slap shocked her to silence, the force turned her face to side and her cheek had a stinging sensation. Bucky was not done yet, he grabbed her neck and whispered harshly in her ear. “If you again say his name, I will make sure the police will not find his body in one piece. My people will scatter every part of his in different city districts. From now on you will only say my name.”
He kept his grip on her neck. “I thought I would take my time with you today, but now you have pissed me, doll. Last chance, calm down and enjoy or ...” He grabbed your face aggressively and invaded your mouth, but as you didn’t kiss him back, he growled into your mouth. “Fuck, doll! Kiss me back.” You cried harder, your tears soaked your cheeks. Bucky grabbed your hair, his lips were back on yours. You whimpered as his tongue was back in your mouth. He tugged your hair again, till you didn’t move your tongue against his. 
Meanwhile Bucky pushed your leggings down, his  free hand slipped between your legs and cupped your pussy though your panties. In panic you bit into his lip, making him bleed. Bucky pulled back and touched his bottom lip with his fingers and smirked. “Doll, why didn’t you tell me, you like it rough?As you wish, Y/N.” 
He ripped the blouse open and then he took his pocket knife out and slid it between your boobs and cut your bra. The cold air made her nipples tight and hard and he saw that. Bucky pushed the teared fabric to the side and took your nipple between his lips and bit down on her nipple.
You yelped and started begging him. “Please ... no, let me go.” Then you felt his strength as he just ripped your panties from bothside. He let you go for a moment and you took  the chance and crawled away from him, but he gripped your leggings and pulled it down. Before you got off the bed, Bucky yanked you back by your ankle. “NO ... no don’t do this.” 
He lifted your leg and pinned it on the bed. His body weight on your back made it impossible for you to move. His finger slid between your pussy lips and rubbed your clit.
You winced as he entered you with his finger, as you were still dry. 
“BUCKY!” You yelled when you felt his dick between your thighs. Bucky pushed his cock against your pussy. “Sssshhh ... relax, it won’t hurt much.” 
“Please.” You choked, as he entered you completely in one push. “Fuck, you are so tight.” you gripped the sheets tightly, when he pulled all the way out and pushed back in. You cried out, when he slammed in your pussy again and again. He groaned into your ear. “ Doll you are made for my cock. I can feel you getting wet.” One hand was holding your leg apart and the other one moved down to your clit and circled your clit. 
He was right, you were getting wet and coating his cock. It shocked you, how your body was reacting to the abuse and rape. You whimpered and shook your head. “ Soon you will learn to like it and then there will be a time where you will beg me to fuck you.” 
“Never!” You spat and tried to push him off your back, but he just fucked harder. You yelped again when he bit your shoulder and sucked the skin, leaving marks all over you.
Suddenly Bucky pulled out, but before you could react he turned you around and got between your legs. He slid back into you, you felt him so deep that his dick was almost touching your womb.
One of your nipples was in his mouth, his tongue rolled around the hard bud, his right hand was pinching the other bud. His other hand was holding your leg around his hip, as he pushed his cock harder into you.
Bucky released your nippled with a pop and kissed your jaw, like you were lovers. “I love fucking you, doll. I could fuck you all day.” A kiss silenced your protest. He slammed harder and you could help but arch your back. “I knew, you will like it. Your little pussy is gripping so tightly. You are about to cum in my cock.”
He spread both of her legs wide and held them open, as he moved deep in her. “I want to see you cum, fuck you are creaming me so well.” You cried harder, because you felt your body let go. “ Stop ... please don’t make me. Bucky ... don’t.” He continued fucking you while he was rubbing his thumb on your clit.”
“Doll, cum on my cock, I know you want to. Your pussy loves my dick.” He rubbed your clit harder, his thighs slapped against yours. “Noooo!” Your legs trembled as the organsam grew and washed over your body. Giving into his assault you came hard on his cock.
“ Good girl, now it’s time for you to take my cum. Fuck, you got tighter.” 
“No, don't cum inside me, I will get pregnant, please don’t!” He pulled you up and held you tightly against his body, his lips pushed against your and his tongue was in your mouth. You groaned as he went faster in a new position into your over stimulated pussy.
Your legs shook, because the over stimulation made you cum again and with that he spilled his cum inside you. “You are mine Dr. Y/N L/N.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You heard him say, before your eyes closed and you welcomed the darkness with open arms. 
A few hours later Bucky was sitting in his private jet and with you sleeping in his lap and in one hand a whisky glass. You would sleep for at least the next 12 hours. The drug he gave you after you blacked out was a bit strong, but would make sure you didn’t wake up during the entire flight. 
A couple hundreds miles away a man was dead on the operation table only to be revived back to life in a few minutes.    
Assistant district attorney Andrew “Andy” Barber opened his eyes after 32 hours, only knowing one thing. He will get you back safe and he will kill James Buchanan Barnes.
“Y/N I will find you. Promise.”
The End
If you like it, leave comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!
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hansensgirl · 3 months
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summary. | Mr. Barber’s feelings for his cleaner are more than professional.
prompts. | Andy Barber + Yandere + “Think an old man like me can keep up?” + conditioning/grooming, requested by @baalsgurl1913!
pairing. | Dark/Yandere!Andy Barber x female!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON (mostly dubious consent), abuse of power, stalking, yandere, obsession, spying, orgasm (f), large age gap (reader is legal), grooming/conditioning, gaslighting/manipulation, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics
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You’ve always had a soft spot for Mr. Barber—and it seemed he had one for you, too. 
You would clean the Barbers’ house every now and then when Andy and Laurie’s jobs made them too busy, and their son couldn’t bother to learn how to help out. You didn’t mind it. They paid a good amount and were always so kind to you.
But that was before it happened. And now Mr. Barber hires you because he’s grief-stricken, and you’ve known him for so long.
It’s not hard to tidy up behind him. He has manners, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. Andy’s entire life fell apart, and everyone watched in amusement.
Everyone except for you. No, you would never. You’re a good girl; he knows it. So sweet with your patterned dresses and adorable sweaters. You tell him ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for every little thing, giving him those eyes that make him want to wreck you on the spot.
It really isn’t his fault that he watches you outside your work hours. He has to keep you safe anyway—don’t you know there are dirty criminals on every corner? And, plus, you made him do this. You’re too pure, too wholesome—and all his. Even though you don’t know it yet.
“That’s it for today, sir. Is there anything else you need?” you hum, light jacket on your shoulders with your purse on the chair since you just polished the countertops. “Actually, there is something else you could do for me,” Andy says, grunting as he stands up from his spot on the couch. 
He stayed there the entire time, making sure you did your job well. You didn’t mind.
“Oh, what is it?” you ask, already shrugging your windbreaker off. “Have a drink with me?” he offers, walking to the fridge. He grabs a beer for himself and a coke for you, knowing that you wouldn’t want to drive home with alcohol in your system. But you don’t have to worry. Not anymore, at least.
“Er, thank you. You’re always so kind to me, sir,” you tell him, sitting down on the couch. He joins you, his thigh touching yours. You involuntarily try to make yourself smaller, nervously giggling at the contact. When you look up at the much older man, he looks different. Pained, almost, with dark eyes and a clenched jaw. Is he upset? Did you do something wrong? Worry gnaws at you.
Andy looks down at you and remembers when you first started working for him. It was a warmer day than usual, and he had come home early at Laurie’s request. She was worried a young thing like you—who had turned eighteen a few months prior—would steal something valuable from the house.
She didn’t know that the only priceless thing had become you, and the worth of their home would decrease drastically when you weren’t there.
You take a sip of your chilled drink, resisting the urge to chug it after all your hard work.  
Andy places a hand on your thigh, but you don’t think much of it. He’s done this before, especially when he feels you’ve been exceptionally good that day.
“Y’know, honey… I really appreciate you coming here so often,” he starts, patting your leg. You smile, slightly embarrassed by the attention. “Really. I mean, you’ve put up with me for so long—through everything…”
You nod sympathetically, knowing what he’s referring to. 
“I just feel like I owe you. More than a raise or a gift,” Andy admits, and you start shaking your head. “No sir, really. I’m fine—thank you for everything. I already have so much,” you say. He quirks an eyebrow.
“Do you?” he asks, puzzling you. You take a larger gulp of the Coke. “Yeah…” 
“Don’t lie, sweetie. I know you don’t. Going back to that little matchbox of yours? With your slob of a roommate waiting for you to clean her messes?” he scoffs, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean, sir?” you question.
“You know what I mean. I’ve seen it all, honey. I can give you so much more—haven’t I already?” he reasons, and it’s only when you feel a chill of air that you realize that your dress has been lifted up, and he can see your underwear. Oddly, you don’t fight him. It’s Mr. Barber—kind, sweet Mr. Barber, who cracks dad jokes and isn’t afraid to order pizza nearly daily. He’s been touchy before, but you’ve never paid any mind to it. Maybe that’s how he shows love.
“And please, call me Andy. You’ll have to, eventually,” he says, inching his fingers closer to your core. Your breathing gets heavy from nerves and desire. “I– I just don’t get it, sir—I mean, Andy. I’m a little scared?…” you confess, and he coos at you.
“That’s alright, sweetie. I’m here for you. Don’t you know how much I love you? I would never hurt you.”
His words make you dizzy. You feel his large, warm hand dip into your panties, and you let out an exhale. You’ve got a vice-like grip on the glass bottle he gave you, but it nearly slips when Andy finds your clit with ease. 
“Now, I know you’re young and all…” he starts, rubbing slow circles on your nub. He can feel your wetness, and it takes all of him to not pounce on you right then. You gasp from the pressure, and your free hand reaches down to grab his wrist, but you don’t push him away. Instead, you keep him there as if he has threatened to pull his hand away and leave you a writhing mess on his couch. “Think an old man like me can keep up?” he asks, and your eyes flash to his face. He’s got mild wrinkles and a slew of greys peppered into his hair and beard. You’ve always admired the look, even though he was married. “It’s been a while, but I can go a few rounds. You get me so hard, honey.”
You quickly come undone on your boss’ fingers, and he drinks in the sight, even though it certainly isn’t the first time he’s seen you have an orgasm. And it will never be the last. 
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boxofbonesfic · 25 days
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Title: Return to Sender [5 of 7]
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Dark! Andy Barber x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader
Summary: Andy Barber promised he would never let you go, and come hell or high water, he's going to keep that promise.
Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Kidnapping, Minor Violence, Gaslighting, Basement Wife Trope, Manipulation, Stalking, Obsessive behavior, Possessive behavior, Smut, MORE TAGS TO BE ADDED
A/N: 👀 is… is anyone still there? i promised i’d update this this weekend, and i delivered. an hour before midnight, but i delivered. 😅 i know it’s been a while for this fic, but it hasn’t been forgotten about. i really hope you all enjoy this latest installment, and please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! as always, comments are great, reblogs are golden. thank you for reading, and mind the warnings. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics
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 Where am I?
You stare blearily at the distant ceiling, dull and rusting metal beams criss-crossing over exposed brick. You reach out for Dove, and when your fingers meet empty air, your throat tightens as you remember. 
Pronge walking away with your baby, and Ari—
You sit up, your fingers knotted in the thin blanket. The repurposed garage office is still and silent, the springs creaking quietly underneath you. The air smells like old motor oil, singed rubber and citrus-scented antiseptic, and it burns your nostrils. You’re almost afraid to shatter the fragile silence with the sound of your movement, but it can’t be helped as you shove your feet back into your sneakers. The office is long abandoned, the desks all pushed up against the sides of the room to make space for the bed.
The hallway is slightly better, boxes of papers and car parts lining both sides, lit by old yellow florescent bulbs that give off less light than they should. There’s a dusty, unlit neon sign that reads Gary’s Auto-body, leaning against the wall. Down the hall, you can see that the light is on in the garage proper, this one bright and brilliant white. You squint as you pass through the doorway, spots dancing in front of your eyes as they slowly adjust to the light. 
In its previous life, this place had been a car mechanic’s garage, but now it serves as something like a speak-easy operating room. The car lifts have been mostly dismantled, and sitting on the concrete in the rusted outline of where they used to be are two operating tables. Ari is on one of them, speaking quietly to the man winding a length of beige bandaging around his right shoulder. 
Zemo. Ari called him Zemo.
“Mouse, you’re up.” You cover your mouth with both hands to stop the surprised squeak from reaching him. Guiltily, you peer around the door frame, waiting for a reprimand that doesn’t come. The “doctor” regards you with cold, calculating eyes. 
“So this is the young woman Mr. Barber is tearing the city apart to find,” he says. “How nice to finally meet you.” Andy’s name sends a cold shiver down your spine, and you clutch yourself. Zemo’s welcome feels less like kindness and more like tolerance. It makes you wonder how long you’ll be staying here. 
“You know Andy?” You ask, careful to keep your face as neutral as you can manage. 
Zemo scowls. “Well enough to know we do not get along.” He shakes his head, before regarding you with a cold smile. “Your husband has just as many enemies as he does friends.” Beside him, Ari sits up on the table with a pained grunt, swinging his legs over the side. 
“We can trust him, Mouse.” Ari offers you a watery smile. Nervously, you step closer, skirting around the now defunct counter as you attempt to give Zemo as wide a berth as you can manage. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, cleaning his tools with a cloth before dropping them with a loud, metallic pap into the metal tray next to the table. 
“Are you okay?” You ask him in a quiet voice as you approach, fingers dancing nervously around the gauze. You shake your head, closing your eyes as you blow out an exasperated breath. “I mean, I know you’re not okay, but—” Ari places a warm hand over your own, a quiet laugh rumbling in his chest. 
“I’m okay.” 
“Lucky for you Pronge is a terrible shot.” Zemo quips. “He missed bone.”
“See?” Ari says, squeezing your hand tight before letting go. “I’m just fine.” 
“You’re not fine. You have a six millimeter hole in you.”  
“Semantics.” 
“Keep activity to a minimum. I shouldn’t have to tell you this,” Zemo replies dryly. “And keep it clean, I’m not going to do it for you. This isn’t a hospital.” You watch him pack up his tools, ferrying them over to the deep sink on the other side of the room. Ari slides off of the table with a grunt, and you watch him press his lips together as he stands upright, gritting his teeth against the pain. 
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ari mutters, cutting his eyes at Zemo over his shoulder. “Six millimeters.” The doctor tosses him a worn looking cloth sling. Ari tries to fit it over his shoulder, and you rush to help him. “Thanks, Mouse.” Your cheeks warm with an uncomfortable heat. “I could have done it myself.” 
“This is all my fault,” you mumble angrily, shaking your head. “I have to do something.” You step back from him, tucking your chin. He rests a warm, comforting hand on your shoulder. 
“No it’s not.” 
“If I—If I hadn’t—” Guilt is an achingly heavy cowl about your sagging shoulders. 
“Mouse, what good is this going to do you?” The gentleness in his touch makes you flinch.
“As much as I am enjoying this conversation,” Zemo clears his throat. “I have my own wife and son to be getting back to.” You watch as he places his cleaned tools back into his bag. “Do remember what I said about your… hole.” He gestures to Ari’s injured arm with a grimace. “I’m rather keen on not amputating.” 
“You and me both.” Ari says. The two of you watch as he makes his way over to the front of the shop, pulling the metal garage door up enough to slip underneath it. “What time tomorrow?”
“Noon.” 
The garage door slams down hard onto the concrete, and then there is silence. You stand there awkwardly, twisting your t-shirt in your restless hands. They’re so used to holding the baby, without her sure weight in them they feel… useless. 
You feel useless. Adrift. 
And it isn’t just Dove—it’s everything. Despite what Ari says, you know this is your fault. He’d never have been hurt if you hadn’t been so fucking helpless. And it’s your own fault, you’d let your guard down, let Andy back inside, let him make a home inside your head, and it was your fault. 
“What are you thinkin’ there, Mouse?” Ari’s voice interrupts the self-depreciating internal monologue running rampant in your head. “I hope it’s about getting some sleep, you need it.” Again, his earnestness puts you on edge. You don’t know what to do with it—it feels alien to you now, almost like you’d prefer Andy’s smug cruelty—at least then you know what to expect. 
You don’t want to admit that you’re blaming yourself, thinking about all the ways you could have prevented this exact course of events just by being better. 
“Yeah,” you lie. “I’m exhausted.” If anything, you’re too awake, recalling last night’s events with perfect clarity. You can’t even look at Ari as the two of you silently make your way back to the repurposed offices, shuffling along beside him as your insides squirm. You feel too much to go to sleep, so many warring desires it feels like you’re being torn apart from the inside out.
You suppose that’s one thing you sort of miss about Andy—you didn’t have to think, didn’t have to feel. He did it all for you. You arrive back at your “room”, fidgeting nervously before you cross the threshold. You don’t think you can sleep in here now, now that the adrenaline has worn off. Now that the terror has been waylaid by your other earthly concerns. 
 Ari notes your hesitation. 
“I can stay with you util you fall asleep, if you don’t think you can.” 
You duck your head, shaking it emphatically. “I should be looking after you,” you reply, shooting him a look over your shoulder. “You should, um, rest.” Ari looks around, raising an eyebrow. Oh. There’s only one other bed—and it’s current occupant is currently snoring so loud you can hear it in here. 
“You sleep here, and I’ll—” You look around. “I’ll sleep in one of the rolly-chairs or something.” He laughs softly at your sudden determination. 
“You know I’m not letting you sleep on chairs, Mouse.” Ari rests a hand on your shoulder. “You take the bed.” 
“You got shot, Ari!” You hiss. “I-I-I can’t—”
He holds up his hands placatingly, like he can see you working yourself up. Hell, he probably can. 
“Okay.” He threads the fingers of his good hand through his blond hair. “I’ll sleep on one side, you on the other. Fair?” 
“Y-yes. Fair.” Your words shock the both of you, and you feel your face heat as he regards you with a look of pleasant surprise before you look down at your feet. 
“You don’t have to agree if you aren’t comfortable, Mouse. You know that. I wouldn’t—”
“I know.” You grip your own forearms tightly as you speak, like you’re afraid saying the words out loud will make them untrue—like speaking the name of your demon will bring him down upon you. “You’re not Andy.” 
Ari takes the left side of the bed, and the springs creak under his weight. You crawl in beside him, holding yourself as stiff as you possibly can to avoid even brushing him by accident. The truth is, you are scared—but not of Ari. 
And that frightens you, too. 
He’s a man, a stranger, wearing a face too similar to the one you’re running from. Now, though, when you’re brave enough to peek at him, you see Ari—not Andy. And the longer you’re here, the clearer you see him.
You lie there in the dark, your arms held painfully stiff over your chest as you search the dark with wide, glassy eyes. The ceiling is far enough above you that your brain begins to construct patterns and shapes on it’s popcorn-textured surface. Grinning faces, tall, shadowy figures—
“Mouse, are you sleeping?” 
You hesitate. “…No.” 
“Go to sleep.” You swallow against the thick lump in your throat, blinking back hot tears. 
“It’s… It’s hard without Dove.” It’s so silent without the baby, the darkness uncomfortably quiet without the sound of her sleepy burble. She’s probably awake right now, wailing for you. You press the heels of your palms against your eyes like you’re trying to hold the tears in. 
“I know.” The mattress creaks, and you feel Ari’s weight shift. The weight of your loss settles in on you, then, the crushing vacuum of your daughter’s absence sucking the air out of your lungs as you gasp for it. You can’t keep quiet anymore, your hiccoughing breaths rising in pitch until you’re sobbing, hot tears streaming down your cheeks to soak your hair and the thin pillow beneath. 
“Hey, hey, come here.” Ari’s touch is hesitant. He lets his fingers linger on your shoulders before he hugs you, like he’s waiting for you to rebuke him. You don’t. Instead, you curl into his chest, your wails muffled by his body as you tangle your fingers in his over-shirt. You cry so hard it hurts, your throat raw and aching. 
Ari’s hands don’t stray. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t murmur false platitudes or make promises he knows he won’t be able to keep. He just…holds you, his breath steady and heartbeat slow and even under your ear. 
And then, finally, you fall asleep.
In the light of day, Irene looks terrible. Her left eye is swollen black and purple, a patchwork of burst blood-vessels and yellow bruises spread out over  cheek. The other side of her face is not much better, the other eye open but blood red, and her nose swollen. It’s obvious she took a beating, a bad one. Still, she seems to be in higher spirits than last night as she shovels the last of her cereal into her mouth. You’re doing the same thing, hungrily crunching down the contents of your own bowl. 
“We need to talk about next steps.” Irene draws the back of her hand across her mouth, her one good eye focused on you. “We need to move.” 
“I’m not going anywhere without Dove.” 
“That isn’t an option anymore.” 
You clench your hands into fists on the table. “I’m. Not. Leaving.” 
“We will figure out a way to get her back, but right now? You cannot go back to Boston, he is never going to let you go, do you understand that?” It’s like you’re speaking two different languages, talking around one another in dizzying circles. You shove yourself away from the foldout table, knocking over your plastic chair. 
“I’m not fucking leaving without my daughter!” You haven’t felt like this in months, and something about it feels freeing as the hot rage pools in your chest.  No, it isn’t that you haven’t felt it, you haven’t let yourself feel it. Anger was hopeless with Andy, firm and stone faced in the hurricane of your rage until you exhausted yourself, your freedom, your life still frustratingly far out of your reach. 
You storm away from the table, kicking aside one of Zemo’s silver trays, and his tools skitter across the concrete. Behind you is the sound of Ari’s voice. 
“I’ll talk to her.” 
You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you need to be away from them. Alone. The bathroom is on the far side of the garage bay, and you slam the door behind you, your chest heaving. You can’t leave without Dove, you won’t. 
You won’t abandon her. 
You grip the porcelain edges of the sink hard as you blink back fresh tears. You turn on the water with a fierce jerk of the knob, and begin to rinse last night’s tears from your face. This is the cleanest room in the building, fresh towels stacked on on the shelves, and medical supplies arranged neatly in the glass cases across from the standing shower. 
It’s probably the only room Zemo actually uses. 
As you’re drying your face, a knock sounds at the door, and you glare at it as you huff. 
“What?”
“It’s me. Can I come in?” You chew your lip. 
“Fine.” 
You unlatch the lock, and fold your arms across your chest as it opens. Ari peers around the door. 
“Hey.” 
“Hey.” You repeat, and he chuckles, stepping fully inside as the door swings shut behind him. “I’m not leaving without Dove.” You say it firmly, watching his shoulders sag with his deep sigh. “It’s not happening.” 
“Mouse. Look at me.” Reluctantly, you drag your gaze from the air over his shoulder. “Your husband—”
“We’re not married.” You spit, and Ari rolls his eyes at the technicality. 
“He’s dangerous, Mouse. You know that.” Ari places gentle hands on your shoulders. “You know that as soon as you step foot back in that house that he will never, ever let you go again.” Your stomach twists at his words.
“I can get out again.” 
“Will you want to?” His bluntness feels like a slap across the face, and though Ari hadn’t struck you—would never—your cheeks smart anyway. You know what he’s implying—Andy scrambled your head all up inside, and half the time now you don’t know up from fucking down.
But it still hurts to know he knows. Knows how changed you are, even though he never got to see the before, just the after.  
“Fuck you!” You snarl. “I am not leaving her! And if you won’t help me get her back, then I’ll—I’ll go back my fucking self!” For the first time since you’d met him, Ari actually looks angry at this, his eyes darkening beneath his furrowed brows. “If you don’t care about her—”
“I let Leah go back.” It takes you a moment to realize who he’s talking about, what he means. “I let Leah go back, and then I had to bury them both.” Ari’s hand is a pale, trembling fist on the bathroom sink. His next words are hoarse. “I didn’t know they made coffins so small.” 
“Ari…”
“I care about Dove.” The words are heavy, and you hate that you know he means them. “We are going to get her back.” His eyes are shiny, but he doesn’t cry. “I fucking swear we will get her back, but you are not going to do that. Okay? You’re not.” 
“You promise?” Your mouth trembles. 
“I promise.” Ari wraps his pinky around yours, holding your entwined fingers up at eye level. “And you aren’t going back.”  
“I-I won’t.”
“Promise.” His dark eyes burn so fiercely you want to look away. “Promise.” He repeats it firmly. 
“I promise.” 
And then he’s kissing you, cupping your chin with his good hand as he presses his lips desperately against your own. Your heart pounds in your ears as you go stiff in his arms. Ari breaks away, releasing you with a soft curse. 
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Mouse, I—I didn’t mean to do that, I just—” For once, he’s flustered, his cheeks ruddy beneath the shadow of his beard. Ari cards his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.” 
The moment hangs between you in the air, held like a breath. 
Your body stays tensed, like you’re ready to fight, or run, like it remembers Andy’s strict instructions. Except… Andy isn’t here to deliver them himself. 
“It’s…” You don’t know what to say, hell, you don’t even know what you’re feeling. Everything is all mixed up, the emotions all biting the tails of the ones they’re chasing—you’re terrified, you’re exhilarated, you’re nauseous and scared and happy and—
“I’ll go. I should go.” Ari mutters the words more to himself than to you. You’re moving before you really mean to, leaning up on the tips of your toes to press a clumsy kiss on the corner of his mouth.
“I—I don’t want you to go.”  With a sigh, Ari melts against you, resting his forehead against yours.  You know you have done this before—many times, even just with Andy—but somehow there is a marked uncertainty as you lift your own hand to Ari’s face, stroking your thumb along his stubbled jawline. He hums, turning his face into your palm, and you feel the press of his lips. 
 Ari wraps his good arm around your waist, his fingers pressing into the meat of your hip through your pajama pants. His right arm flexes, his fist clenching and unclenches in the sling like he wants to move it, but he knows better. Instead, he buries his nose in your hair, the tips of his fingers creeping up beneath your t-shirt to stroke at your belly. You tense at his touch and then relax again, shivering. 
“You tell me to go, I go.” Ari repeats softly, nosing down the side of your jaw. “I won’t be angry.” You look for the pool of cold dread that usually sits in your belly whenever Andy touches you, the reluctant fear that you stamp down to please him but find it entirely absent. 
“You don’t have to make me happy, you don’t have to do what I want because I want it.” You have to stand on the tips of your toes to wrap your arms around Ari’s broad shoulders. There is undeniable excitement uncurling in your belly, warmth skipping under your skin at his touch. You want Ari to touch you.
“What if… it would make me happy?”
Ari huffs out a breathy laugh, his lips curving against your own. “That’s all I seem to want to do.” He takes your mouth again with a fervor that leaves you pleasantly breathless. Ari tangles his fingers in the curls at the nape of your neck, holding you still. His teeth tug at the weight of your lower lip and you gasp, opening for him. Ari tastes faintly of cinnamon sugar and something distinctly him that makes you shiver. 
“Been wanting to do that for a goddamn week.” He sighs the words against your mouth. He smooths his hand down the back of your neck, tracing a gentle finger along the length of your spine. You don’t know you’re holding your breath until you release is as his palm skirts over the curve of your ass. He chuckles. “Is this okay?”
“Y-yes.” Ari palms your ass in response and you gasp, tangling your fingers in his over-shirt. It feels strange to be asked what you want, to even consider your own feelings as worth listening to. Andy tells you what to want, what to think, how to feel—Ari simply…allows you to be. Just as you are. 
“I wanna touch you, Mouse,” he breathes. The admission sends a sharp bolt of electricity straight down your spine. “Can I?” You can’t avoid his eyes anymore, reluctantly meeting his gaze with your own. The words stick in your throat.
“You have to tell me, Mouse.” He strokes your trembling chin with the pad of his thumb. “I’m not him.”Andy always played at giving you choice, but you know Ari isn’t. That if you tell him to, he’ll walk away, and he won’t punish you for it. 
You close your eyes hard, pressing the lids shut till they hurt. You don’t want to think about Andy right now, don’t want to think about Dove without you—you just want this. It feels like you have to reach down your own throat to find it, pulling your own voice up and out through your mouth with force.
“Please?” 
Ari groans, plunging his hand into your loose sleep-pants to wrap around your thighs. He’s strong enough to lift you one-armed as you adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist as a reflex and he hums approvingly, his fingers sinking into the meat of your hips. 
The hard planes of his body press against yours, and your face heats as you think of the new weight that has settled around your hips and belly, but Ari does not seem to notice its presence, his fingers skimming appreciatively along your skin. You can feel the bulge of his cock pressing against your core, and the breathy, surprised noise you make in the back of your throat at the feel of it prompts a chuckle. 
Ari grips your hip hard as he takes a few long strides backwards until you feel cool tile beneath your back. He holds you there, pinned comfortably between his body and the wall as he grinds into you. He ruts against you with a groan. The thin, stretchy fabric between you offers little protection, considering, you can practically feel him throbbing through his zipper. 
“See, Mouse?” He says lowly. “All for you.” Ari releases you, and your feet have barely touched down on the tile before he’s pulling at the hem of your t-shirt. 
“Let’s take this off.” You nod, tugging it up over your head breathlessly, unaware of where it lands after Ari tugs it from your fingers. He drops to his knees, hooking a finger under the elastic band holding up your pajamas. You tense, remembering the last person who had been between your legs, but Ari grounds you, his lips brushing over the curve of your hip. 
“Don’t.” His mouth moves softly against your skin. “Stay here. With me, right now. Don’t go anywhere else.” Ari peels the layers of clothing back from your skin, his hands roaming hungrily over each newly revealed inch. You step out of them and then quickly scoot off your socks. Ari looks up at you from between your thighs, making hard, heavy eye contact as he places a hand beneath your knee. 
“Can I do this for you, Sweetheart? Can I make you feel good?” God, you want to let him. Everything’s out of you control—Andy, Dove, your whole life, but this? This is yours. This, you get to choose.
“Yes.” Even the act of consent feels unfamiliar. “I—I want to.” You don’t know how to describe the way you see the relief leave his body, his broad shoulders relaxing as he widens your stance, pushing your thighs apart till he can kneel between them properly. He squeezes the back of your thigh reassuringly before slowly lifting it to rest on his good shoulder. Ari holds your gaze as he leans forward to place a kiss on the chubby curve of your vulva through your cotton panties. 
His mouth is warm and soft—reverent as he mouths at your swelling lips through the fabric. Ari strokes your hip as he catches the fabric with his teeth, before pulling it aside to marvel at your bare pussy. You want to look away but you don’t, your mouth dropping open as he delivers a sloppy kiss against your slick folds. 
“O-oh,” the sound falls from your lips unbidden, and you feel his mouth curve against you. He pauses briefly to shrug out of his flannel, and dimly you are aware of the sound of his zipper before he’s back, his face thrust hard into the soaking place between your thighs. You mumble his name. 
“Ari, Ari, Ari—” 
He rolls the pearl of your clit against the roof of his mouth, circling your entrance with one finger. You press your head back against the tile, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. You do not remember threading your fingers through his hair, but as you tighten them, tugging, he moans, throaty and low. When you chance a look down, Ari is staring at you with lidded eyes. He flicks your clit sharply with the tip of his tongue, humming appreciatively as you jackknife. 
“Go ahead and cum, Mouse,” he murmurs the words against your slick, twitching skin. “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know you need it.” One hand remains buried in Ari’s hair, tugging on it helplessly as the other scrabbles for purchase against the tile, looking for something—anything—to hold onto. You push against the hot water knob, and the pipes rattle as water rockets through them. You are tangentially aware of the spray of warm water from the shower head—but only barely. You whine helplessly, hips rolling against Ari’s face as you cum. 
He presses the tip of his finger into your cunt, groaning at the feel of you, wet and swollen and sucking at him. He gently lowers your leg, and your trembling knees nearly buckle. You watch as Ari wraps his fist around his cock, pumping it slowly as he stares at the sticky, messy spot at the apex of your thighs. It’s thick, veiny like his forearms. He sweeps his thumb across the tip,  spreading the dewy drop of precum gathered there. 
Ari stands, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. From inside, he produces a wrinkled—but sealed—condom. He tears into the packet with his teeth before discarding it. He fumbles with one hand, nearly dropping it, but you help, gingerly pulling the condom from his fingers. Ari stands stock still as you roll it slowly down to the base before he grasps your chin, his mouth crashing against yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue. 
This time when he lifts you, he uses the wall to leverage your weight, sinking you down slow as you lock your ankles behind his waist. Ari’s head lolls, his lips parting in a silent “o” as he draws his hips back, and then fully sheathes himself inside. The air in your lungs escapes in a sharp, needy whine. 
“F-full.” You don’t even realize you’ve said it until Ari hums in agreement. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it Mouse?” He breathes. “Shit, you’re squeezing me so nice,” he breathes, drawing back until your cunt is sicking at the tip of him before driving all the way back inside. You manage a nod, your hips rolling greedily into his.
“I-I—fuck—again—” The words don’t want to leave your tongue in any sort of sensible manner, but Ari understands them, grinning hungrily as he picks up the pace. He skims your clit with his thumb, and you can feel the sparks skittering up your spine and you gasp as he does it again and again—
“Come on, Sweetheart, you’ve got one more in there for me, don’t you?” He mutters, angling his hips up into yours as you writhe against him. “Wanna feel it on my cock—mmm, fuck—” You do, leaning forward to bury your face against his chest as you wail, your cunt clamping down around him like a fist. Ari curls his massive body over yours as he empties into you, his hips pressing softly against yours. He holds you there, his cock jerking and throbbing inside of you as he mumbles soft ‘mm’’s and ‘yeah, fuck yeah’’s into your hair until he’s done. 
You stay like that, your body buzzing as the warm water streaming down over you. Eventually, when you can no longer feel the hammer of his heart against your cheek, he pulls out, and you press your lips together in embarrassed amusement at the crinkle of latex. He knots it off before tossing it into the trash bin. Your cheeks burn as Ari cleans between your legs, cupping your swollen cunt with an appreciative hum. He slides his fingers through the folds of your sticky sex, and your breath hitches. 
“I’m just cleaning you up, Mouse, I promise.” He’s true to his word, there’s   hungry, lustful intensity in his touches, only care. You str heady yourself against his shoulder, and your heart drops at the  sight of his bandages. The center is tinged with a pink circle, and as you stare at it, it darkens a little. 
“You’re bleeding.” Ari looks down at his shoulder and grimaces.
“Occupational hazard, Mouse. I’ll be fine.” He attempts to reassure you with a smile, but it doesn’t completely do away with the cold feeling in your belly.
“We’re going to need to change these, at least,” you say, fingering the edge of his wet bandage. “I think Zemo will be mad if we don’t.”
“He’s always mad.” Ari replies, and you laugh. “But yes. We’ll change them” 
It somehow feels more intimate to stand there in the shower with Ari, slowly washing off the events of the last day and a half. He shampoos your hair, rubbing it in gently at the roots with the tips of his fingers. When you’re finally done, he helps you towel off, before producing a generic grey sweatshirt and pants from one of the cupboards after a bit of rummaging. 
When the two of you return to the garage, dewy cheeked and differently clothed, Irene snorts. 
“Had a good time, did you?” 
Dove won’t stop crying. 
Andy isn’t a bad father, he knows he’s not, but for some reason, he can’t get her calmed down. Her little fists are clenched tight, beating the air above her head with a frustration Andy as her father, cannot seem to quell. He bounces his daughter tiredly as he paces around the nursery, mumbling soothing baby speak as he rubs circles on her back. 
She’s been wailing practically nonstop since Pronge had delivered her, his expression grim as he’d handed her over. 
I couldn’t get your wife.
Andy had wanted to rage, then, and he almost had, itching to slam the whiskey glass in his hand into Robert’s face for the trouble—but Dove’s fussing had provided a sufficient reminder that it might not be appropriate to do so. She cries herself to sleep, hiccoughing in his arms until her breathing evens. Andy carefully lays her down in the crib, stroking his hand over the curve of her cheek. He closes the door to the nursery, and to his disgust, Robert Pronge stands in the hallway, the decanter of whiskey from his office held in his hand. He takes a swig from it. 
“Who else was with her?” 
Pronge grimaces. “Irene. And her new assistant. Fucker’s as big as a goddamn house. Name’s Ari Levinson, he owns some shithole bar.” Andy’s eyes narrow.
“Get out.” He shoulders past the killer in his hallway, not bothering to take back the bottle.
“And do what, exactly?” He sneers. 
“Finish your goddamn job, and find my wife.” Andy waits to hear the sound of the front door before returning to his office. He’d had you—and you’d slipped right through his fingers again. You wouldn’t want to be apart from Dove, at least, that much he could be sure of. You’re a good mother, regardless of the doubts he knows he’ll have to plant in your beautiful head to get you to stay. 
Ari Levinson. 
The name is unfamiliar, and a search through both Massachusetts and New York state databases return no results. He does, however, get pings on basic search engines.
Ari Levinson. Dishonorable discharge, tried for murder, dismissed as self defense.
Now that is interesting.
It’s after midnight when he finally decides to turn in for the night, and as he closes his office door, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He reaches for it, frowning at the unfamiliar number—but then his eyes widen at the caller I.D. 
Albany.
“Hello?” At first, there’s only grainy silence on the other end, until finally, you speak. 
“I’m ready to talk, Andy.” 
He smiles. “Oh, Honey. I knew you would be.” 
to be continued…
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cockslutpadalecki · 7 months
Text
But The Flesh Is Always Weak
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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.
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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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cevansbaby-dove · 1 month
Text
Lust Royale 1
Pairing:Dark!Andy Barber X Dark! Steve Rogers X Reader
Summary: When Y/N is away on a mission with her boss, Steve, everything seemed to go well, until a dark figure in the form of Andy Barber appeared. From the moment he laid eyes on Y/N he knows he has to have her, and he's willing to do anything he can to get what's rightfully his. Little does he know that Steve is going in with that same mindset, wanting to protect Y/N at all costs, so he can have her for himself.
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Steve was waiting for you in the office before Alexander walked into the room. "Rogers where is your sidekick? is she late yet again?"
You open the big doors and walk in wearing a white blouse and black pants.
You sit down at the table and say. "Sorry I'm late boys...Shall we get on with this?"
"Steve was just being updated on the upcoming mission." Pierce said as he looks at his notes. Steve looks at you and bites his lip and then says. "you sure you want to do this?"
You nod. "Just tell me where I'm going, and I'll make sure to get you what you need sir."
Steve nods and then says to Pierce. "She's honest at least"
Pierce hands you and Steve some papers and says. "the jet leaves in ten" He walks out and you flip the pages of the mission report and say. "Easy as pie"
Steve smiles. "This is why i like you being on my team L/N you very smart" You smirk. "Come on we'll be late"
You two walk out and you put on sneakers and then grab your gun and Steve Walks out in his suit.
You smile and he says. "Hey you look good..like a baddie"
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"yea yea Rogers" You two get on the jet and Steve can't take his eyes off of you as you two sit on the bench as the jet takes off.
He wanted you if you gave him a chance but you were always saying Nothing more then a team with him...You didn't want to be distracted by Golden boy Rogers.
When the plane lands you walk out and Hear gun shots and Steve grabs your arm. "Stay with..me!" You press your lips together and pull away. "Watch and learn"
You take off running and end up shooting some Aliens and You didn't know but a bystander was keeping his eyes on every...single...Move you made.
That man was Andy, a widower, his son died and wife in a car crash and Your the girl he wanted to make HIS.
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He takes a step back into the alley when Steve rushes to you saying. "Your reckless Agent L/N!"
You look at Steve. "Fuck off then Rogers" You were in control of this mission and you'd be damned if Rogers had to be the hero!
After the mission you and Steve came back to the tower and Steve was pissed that you'd do what you just did.
"Y/N we are not done talking" You turn around. "I am done talking about this! I had it handled"
Steve grabs your arm as you turn. "You want to be part of this team then fucking be PART of it or Leave!"
You were fuming so you say. "Fuck You Rogers!"
Tony says as he took a sip of his drink. "You two fight like lovers! Why not come to my party tonight? i have some friends coming with"
You look over at Tony and say. "Yea sure i might have fun for once" You look back at Steve and he sighs.
"See you then Agent" He turns and walks away.
Tony walks over to you. "What happened?" You look at him telling how you didn't wait for Rogers.
Later that day you changed into this dress.
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You fix your hair and look out the tower at the city lights. You sigh then turn and grab your phone and walk out of your room and Steve is there by the wall.
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You smile lightly. "Cap" He says as he looks at you. "Y/N look i want to say sorry for what i said...I just want to make sure your safe"
You nod. "I am Rogers, I forgive you and i am sorry too i didn't mean to get mad at you...Your just looking out for me"
He nods standing straight. "Yes i am you um..mean a lot to me" he looks right at you and you nod. "we'll be late" Steve follows you to the elevator letting you walk in first. "thanks"
You two walk in and Steve says. "Want a drink?" You nod. "Sure thank you"
He nods and you look around and see a tall man in a suit you walk over. "Hey i didn't think this was going to be a business kind of party"
The man looks at you. "Oh i'm sorry Stark asked me but he didn't tell me there would be a lovely lady like you" he holds his hand out to you. "I'm Andy"
You smile shaking his large hand. "Nice to meet you Andy I'm Y/N"
Andy Smiled at you then his eyes meet Steve's and he let's his hand drop and Steve walks up by your side. "Here you are"
You take the drink. "Thank you Captain. Oh This is Andy, Andy This is Steve"
Steve's eyes met Andy's and he doesn't smile back but he says "Nice to meet you i didn't think we invited you here"
"Tony did" Andy said without a smile. He glances at you and says. "So tell me about yourself"
Steve's eyes darkened as you and Andy spoke. "Y/N we should go talk to other's here"
You look at Andy and say. "I'm sorry but it was nice meeting you" Andy nods. "Yes of coarse see you around." You smile. "see you"
Later that night you look around the tower even through you have been on the team for a year you still got lost in the tower.
You look around and wonder where you went wrong or the wrong turn. You turn around and crash into Steve's body.
"Shit" You said looking up at him. "Are you lost Sunshine?" You say. "Um yes i seem to be" You laughed lightly. "Can i help you?" he smiles. "No but you could use help"
He holds his arm out to you and says. "Come with me" You lightly hook your arm in his and he leads you back to the party.
Steve smiles and Andy is over at the bar talking his ass off to Natasha.
He turns and looks at you and you can feel his eyes on you as you smile talking to Steve.
You say to Steve. "Thank you for helping me find my way back Steve you would think after living here for a year i'd know my way around" Steve smiles and says. "I can stay by your side if need be"
You nod. "Sure thank you"
After the party you run into andy. "hey sweets can i ask you out or is Steve trying to tell me yours HIS?"
You look around. "what no he's not my boyfriend he's my boss god nope"
He nods. "Well here's my card if you want to call me i'd be glad to hear your cute voice"
You take his card with a small smile. "thank you Mister Barber" "Aw sweets call me Andy please" You nod. "Sure Andy have a good night"
Steve walks by you and says. "Y/n Tony is asking for you" He lied. You nod. "Alright bye Andy" he waves and you walk away and Steve says. "Back off from her she's taken"
Andy chuckles. "thats not what she told me, your her boss..." He echoed your words.
"I won't ask again barber...back...off" Andy nods. "Have a good night as well" he walks out and you walk back saying "Tony said he didn't ask for me."
Steve folds his arms on his chest. "Y/N you know how i care about you right?"
You bite your lip then nod. "Yes sir" Steve's eyes go wide hearing those words...Sir Damn those words made his cock twitch. "Ahem right...Please stay away from the man you just met...I don't trust him"
You roll your eyes. "Steve come on don't be like this" He walks closer to you. "Please for once do as i say" he kisses your cheek and that makes you say. "that's it?"
Steve look into your eyes. "What?" You fold your arms. "Just a kiss on the cheek?"
He smiles. "This time darling" You both go back to your own rooms for the night and you don't fall asleep right away.
Shit...did you just hit on your boss...what about the other man? Was this going to bad for your mind during missions if you kept this up?
tags: @patzammit @nicoline1998enilocin @cutedisneygrl @armystay89
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cottagecheese1 · 28 days
Text
Chapter 2
summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new begging's, but what happens when your new begging 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
The day was new, sadly, after last night you didn’t know if leaving your room was a good option in the first place, well of course you’d live, but the embarrassment you felt at the moment made you feel like the world was ending. You always felt a little sensitive and awkward towards every little situation that came your way. When you say it in your head it always sounds like a bad thing even though there are worse things in the world, and you shouldn’t even come close to feeling unfortunate in any situation–or thats what your mother would tell you, at a point your life your mother used to make you feel vain–blaming you for your fathers death saying it was your fault, of course you knew your mother had loved you, I mean she was also going through the grief of losing her husband, you shouldn’t be selfish–thats what she would also tell you.
After a long two hours of laying in bed, you rolled in bed and looked at your alarm clock that read 9:23am, and you could already hear the shuffling and laughter of the boys in the kitchen, deciding to just suffer through it and just hope nobody brings up the previous night, they all probably forgot about it by now, right? You could only hope because you sure haven’t forgotten.
Making your way down the hall where the chuckling and the sizzling of bacon started to make itself more present as you stepped into the kitchen, your head automatically goes down towards the floor when the chatter abruptly stops–the awkward sizzling of bacon mocking you as you walk towards the bread.
Andy stops and turns toward you with a small smile while leaning on the marble countertop, finally deciding to break the silence, “good morning honey, I made breakfast if you’re interested, bacon and uh maybe some pancakes if Johnny will save some for the rest of us.” he says the last part while turning towards a shirtless johnny stuffing his mouth full, mumbling out a “sorry”.
You tilt your head up toward Andy, and grab the bread, “no thanks Andy, maybe later–thanks though–well not that I don’t want any it's just-” you stutter out, until Andy interrupts you with a soft chuckle.
Andy walks behind you–tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before he leaned down to press a small kiss to your temple, “Oh pumpkin, what am I gonna do with you hm? With your cute self.” your cheeks tinted red, and besides that you could hear Johnny, and Colin snickering–probably making fun of you.
Not really knowing how to respond, but suddenly another thought comes to mind–where's your mother? Now curious, you turned and asked Andy, face still red as a beet, “um- where's my mom?” Andy half listens to you as he plays with your hair softly.
“She’s on a business trip, won’t be back for a few weeks, so you get to spend some alone time with us.” Andy says as he smirks.
You advert your gaze back to the toaster and give him a quick “okay”, before turning back around he huffs dramatically grabbing his keys swiftly, but before he heads out, he stops before the two chuckling boys.
“You boys be nice, treat her good until I get home, okay? Oh honey, if you need anything just give me a call, okay? Johnny should help you with anything, if not, I’ll be back around 11:00. Be good you two.”, and at that Andy was out the door, now it’s just you and them.
Johnny sighed and got up dramatically, “I’m gonna go take a shower, you kids have fun.” he said as he walked toward his bedroom.
Now it was just Colin and you, but as soon as you heard the toaster pop up, you scurried to your room–not even bothering to grab the butter–once you got to your room, closing the door you sighed and switched your phone on for the next hour.
💼
After another 30 minutes of contemplating if you should leave your room or not, you do. Opening the door slowly, and walking down the hall to the living room, where you thought watching TV would be an option for you, but Colin seemed to be taking up the couch and the entire atmosphere, and God was it intimidating.
Before you could turn away, and advance to the comfort of your own room–Colin stopped you abruptly. He threw his head back over the back of the couch, and called your name out.
“Hey!- don’t leave, come join me, I’m watching 21 jump street, I want you to come watch it with me.”
He sounded so demanding, but maybe that's just his way of expressing himself, so you watch as he scoots over a tad, and pats the spot next to him. This is when you seem to notice he doesn’t have a shirt on under his thin jacket, but you still sit down awkwardly next to him.
Suddenly he scoots closer to you, and wraps an arm around you, pulling you to him slightly as he says “relax baby, just getting comfortable, you wanna lay on me?”
“Oh, well I’m ok right now, I wouldn’t wanna-” he cuts you off by his own words, “cmon baby, I don’t mind, it's just some friendly cuddles, don’t gotta be all shy about it.” he says the last part chuckling.
You stay silent as he speaks again, “Here–I’ll help you.” Coin grunts a bit as he pulls you on top of him, and pushes your head onto his chest, softly stroking your hair. As much as you’d hate to admit it, it did feel kind of nice, maybe because he was nice and warm, and solid–Colin interrupts your train of thought when he speaks again.
“Isn’t this nice baby? All nice and relaxed…You're such a good girl, you know that?” he says with a mischievous glint in his voice while stroking your back, his voice still vibrating off of you he continues, “So, so quiet. Bet you're a virgin huh? All pure and untouched, from the way you're grinding on my dick and acting all innocent about it, you have to be.”
You feel stiff all the sudden, like you can’t move, now you're overly aware of the fact that his dick is poking your thigh. Then to make things worse he leans down toward your ear, “You know me, and Johnny talked about fucking you last night? Or how adorable you would look trying to wrap your lips around our cocks–and the tears that would run down that pretty face as we both fucked you till you couldn’t walk–or talk–bet you're a cock drunk bitch when you have the chance, huh?”
This is when you really started to freak out, trying to shove away from him eagerly, “Stop! Get off me! Andy will come back any time.”, and Colin just laughed at your plea, which made you slightly confused.
“Oh Baby, you poor girl, Andy’s the worst of both of us, if you knew all the dirty shit he’s said about you, you’d be crying–or well you already are–your new daddy just wants to pound you into his mattress until you're crying honey, and so much more.”
Your eyes widened at his statement, that couldn’t be, Andy cared about you..right? The thoughts that ran a million miles in your head suddenly got interrupted by another presence entering the room. Johnny.
Crying out for him as Colin licked and sucked on your neck, making you whimper pathetically in the process, “Johnny, please get him off of me..” you said pleadingly.
Johnny stared at you mockingly as he bent down to your level, where you still laid beneath Colin helplessly. He stroked the side of your face teasingly before he said, “Now why would I do that hm? Not when you’re whimpering so sweetly baby.” Colin then let up off you, leaning back into the couch, pulling you into his lap in the process as you felt your thighs subconsciously rub together.
After Johnny made his way beside you and Colin–sandwiching yourself between them as result, he stroked your thigh up and down, slowly making his way to your clothed core, “Look how fucking red you are, just from some teasing hm? you wanna feel me sweetheart? Don’t even try to hide how wet you are–bet you haven’t even had your first kiss yet.”
You had to be slightly surprised at his forwardness, no you haven’t had your first kiss yet, but you just told yourself that you're waiting for the right person. Colin chuckled at Johnny’s antics, this is also when you noticed that Johnny was not wearing a shirt–or pants for a matter of fact, this realization made you feel hotter all over.
Colin leaned over and looked at Johnny, “You know the old man won’t like it if we take her first kiss without him being here."
Johnny rolled his eyes and scoffed, still stroking your thighs, “Fuck that old geezer, I'm taking what's min-” Johnny got cut off by a loud slam of a door and jingling of car keys jingling. You three looked over toward the door to see Andy in the doorway, his arms crossed intimidatingly.
“what's going on here fellas..trying to break her in without me?” Andy said with a smirk as he reached the end of his sentence. He walked over to you slowly, and took your small face into both of his large hands, “And what about you honey? Having fun without daddy, hm? Good thing I’m here now.” He ends the last of his words with a chuckle.
Pleading for help wouldn’t even save you right now, after what Johnny and Colin just confessed to you–especially Andy–all you can do is hope for the best.
A/n: sorry for the short late chapter ya'll (I edited it at the end because the order was fucked up for those who were as confused as me.)
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