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hertzwritings · 2 years

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The barber boys and the bakery chapter 1

A/N: Yes, I do have three WIPS currently going and a shit-ton of other stuff, BUT the always amazing @buckyshattergirl and I have talked in LENGTH about a thing and now I have to write the thing. I need fluffy Dad!Andy Barber and cute kid Jacob. It’s probably going to be a series, maybe, and it’ll mostly be snapshots and cute little one-shots of the life of the Barber boys. I can’t say when or how frequently it’ll be updated, but it will be updated!

Anyway, I hope you’ll like it because I sure as hell do!

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized something – the sky is the limit, my loves!

Remember, feedback feeds the soul (min in particular) and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.

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CHRIS EVANS MASTERLIST

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SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Andy Barber x female reader

Contains: language, fluff, mentions of violence, age gap

W.C: 2.000

The meeting

NEXT CHAPTER

The bakery was quiet for the first time since you opened today; the hustle and bustle of high school kids had dwindled down to zero, and you finally had time to make yourself the cup of coffee, you had craved since 4 in the morning. You did worry, though, because your favorite kid – the lanky, shy Jacob – had been nowhere to be seen, which was strange for him. He came in every day, a shy smile on his lips and asked (as the only one) for your walnut muffins, small talking about nothing really, while you bagged it up for him. It was steady and routine at this point:

You opened, began baking, and precisely thirty minutes before the bell rang, Jacob would show up, buy a walnut muffin, eat it inside while talking about schoolwork or his dad – or how much he hated his mom – and then wave goodbye. You liked it. He was a smart and funny kid, and your general penchant for being a MomTM, made it easy to talk to him and dote on him.

He seemed like he needed it.

Which is why you were worriedly looking out of the window towards the school with furrowed brows, when the bell rang, and Jacob still hadn’t shown up. Not that he wasn’t allowed to not show up, but it gave you a sense of unease. He had been through enough, already. You began baking another round of croissants, flour going everywhere, and you grumbled to yourself that this was not the day for wearing black boots, because they were slowly turning grey. Occupational hazard.

You were so concentrated, that you missed the bell chiming and the sound of shuffling feet, until a soft voice called out. “Hey, Y/N.” Your head whipped up to see Jacob stand in front of you. Your smile fell when you saw the busted lip and the blood flowing freely. “Sorry, I didn’t come in earlier.” “Don’t think about that, what happened to you?” you rushed to his side and sat him down in one of the chairs, quickly going to the open sign and flipping it. “Asshole at school.” He said with a shrug. “Isn’t the first time, won’t be the last.” You were seething. “Jake, you… Hang on, I’ll get you something to clean off with.” You rushed to the back, found a hand towel and wet it, handing it to him as soon as you came back and sat down in front of him. “Thanks.” “Jake, listen to me. Who was he, why did he do that, and do I need to kill him?” You asked seriously. He shook his head. “It’s the dickhead Spencer. He’s… Well, yeah. He’s that. I guess I sat in his chair. Or he thinks I’m gay. It could all of the things.” You pursed your lips. You might only be 25 years old, and you may have only known Jacob for six months, but you felt protective of him. “Call your dad. When’s the break?” He glanced at the clock. “In… Like two minutes.” He scrolled on his phone, stopping with a finger hovering over the call-button. “Why?” “I’m about to beat this bitch up.” You said firmly, dusting your fingers from flour. “You’re coming with me, point him out.” He called his dad as he stood up. “Uh, dad? So… I might get in trouble. Not like, that kind of trouble again, but like… Normal teen trouble? At school? You should get over here. Like…” He looked at you and swallowed. “I’m a little scared of Y/N. She’s about to rip a kid a new one for punching me. Anyway, bye!” he hung up. “Voicemail.”

You stalked to the school parking lot, hair whipping around your face in the wind, Jacob trailing after you, and he nodded to a red-headed, slightly plump kid, who was laughing with a group of other boys. You were ready to throw some fucking hands.

“YOU!” You marched over to him, while Jacob stood back, watching it unfold. “Who the hell do you think you are?” you began, the kid stumbling back a few paces and the verbal smack-down began.

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Andy hated voicemails like that. He hated that his first thought was not again, and he drove faster than he probably should’ve to reach the school in record time. When he pulled over, he saw Jacob standing, eyes locked on a woman, who was clearly angrily gesturing and speaking loudly to the asshole of a kid, Spencer, who looked like he was about to cry. Andy got out of the car quickly and almost jogged to Jacob’s side, clocking the busted lip. “What the hell happened to you?” He asked, taking Jacob’s face in his hands. “I’m fine dad, seriously.” He glanced at the woman again. “I don’t think I have anything to worry about, because Y/N seems to be doing a great job telling him off.” He pointed to her, and Andy frowned. “Wait, that’s Y/N?” “Yeah.” “I thought she was in your year!” He said, watching her poke Spencer in the chest with a finger. “Nah, she’s like… 25, but super cool. She plays DND and stuff. She’s like my mom friend.” “She’s a mom?” Andy could almost hear Jacob roll his eyes. “No, dad, a mom friend.” “Kid, I have no idea what that means.”

“If you ever even look at him again, I’ll wreck you faster than you can scream mommy.” Andy overheard the last of the conversation – or yelling – from Y/N, before she turned on her heels and walked straight to Jacob, cupping his face in her hands. The gesture made Andy’s stomach go into knots. “Listen to me, you’re getting free muffins for the rest of the year from even tolerating being in the same room as that fucking wombat.” You said, wiping your thumb across Jacob’s cheek. Andy was reeling. He watched Spencer run inside of the school and didn’t see her turn to him. “You’re Mr. Barber, I presume.” He was about to answer when he finally looked at her.

She was beautiful. He knew beauty when he saw it. Her hair was flowing around her face, her eyes were burning into him, and her lips, fucking hell, her lips made him feel dizzy. She radiated confidence. She was wearing a blue sundress, covered largely by a black apron that in turn, was covered in flour, and he had never in his life felt this attracted to a person before. He swallowed thickly when he noticed the tattoos littering her arms, and the one, that poked out from her collarbone to her shoulder, only interrupted by the strap of her dress made his heart thump heavily in his chest. “Barber, yes. I.. Am Andy.” He swallowed thickly and noticed Jacob grin like a Cheshire cat. “Well, Barber, Andy, prepare yourself to go to the principal’s office.” “Why, did you punch the kid?” He asked, honestly a little worried. She looked terrifying, despite her smaller stature and flour in her hair. She shook her head. “No, but I did accidentally say nobody messes with my kid and called the kid an asshole, that was tired of shitting, and that if he ever tried to touch my kid again, I’d rip his arms from his body and stuff them up his ass.” She turned her head to see the very angry face of the vice-principal. “Shit.” “Will you follow me, Mr. Barber, Miss?” She told him through tight lips. Y/N followed as well, clearly ready to face whatever wrath a principal had to dish out. Andy couldn’t stop looking at her, her entire aura was just confidence and care; he cleared his throat several times to get rid of the damned dry spot, that suddenly appeared at the same time as Y/N had cupped Jacob’s cheeks.

They both stepped into the office, and when she stood next to him, Andy realized just how short she was in comparison to him. He easily towered a head above her. “I don’t appreciate siblings telling students off, Mr. Barber.” He cocked an eyebrow at the principal. “Siblings?” he asked, slightly confused. The principal pointed at Y/N, who laughed. “Oh, no, I’m not related.” She winked at Andy. “Yet.” He spluttered. She turned back to the principal. “And someone has to tell them off, or nobody will. Seriously, do you not a have a zero-bullying policy in this hellhole?” Andy snickered under his breath. “Miss, that’s very inappropriate…” “No, I’ll tell you what’s inappropriate.” Y/N cut the principal off. “That someone can punch another human being and face zero repercussions. Zero bullying, my ass, you’re literally enforcing the bullying by not acting. I have no respect for you or anything you have to say to me, as long as you allow that to happen in your school, Mrs.” Andy cleared his throat, when the principal opened her mouth to retort. “I agree. My son has done nothing” (well, he hoped) “to warrant this. Y/N did nothing more than stand up for my son, which is needed since the school decided not to.” “Mr. Barber, I can assure you…” “You can assure me of nothing.” He said with a smile. It was the same smile he wore when he delivered his final statements in court. “I refuse to be called in here for my son, when he’s the one bleeding. Have a wonderful day, Mrs. Stevensen.” He turned on his heel and gestured for Y/N to follow him, leaving the principal absolutely dumbfounded.

“Am I in trouble?” Jacob asked in the second, they stepped outside. Andy shook his head and wrapped his arm around Jacob, pulling him close. “No, kiddo, you’re not.” “Tell you what, I’ll get you a few muffins to take back, okay?” Y/N said. “Come, I was going to close early anyway.” Jacob practically jumped out of Andy’s arms and ran after Y/N, talking animatedly with his hands as they walked. Andy furrowed his brows; he hadn’t seen Jacob like this in a while, and it warmed his heart a little. He quickly followed them into the bakery, and was immediately feeling comfortable – it smelled of chocolate and fresh bread, while the walls were covered in personal art (he noticed a few drawings from Jacob hung on the wall as well), and he sat down in the chair, that Jacob pointed him to.

“Jake, what will it be today? Walnut muffins, chocolate chip cookies, something dangerous or something unexpected?” She asked seriously. “I’ll cry if you give me anything with chili in it.” He answered with a grin. You rolled your eyes and laughed. “I might be scary, but I’m not evil.” You winked at Andy, who almost choked on thin air. “Unexpected it is, huh?” You kept your eyes on Andy as you spoke, and he couldn’t help the small grin spread on his lips. “Yeah, unexpected is good.” Jacob answered, looking back and forth between Y/N and Andy, his eyes glowing with something Andy hadn’t seen in his son for a while: Hope.

NEXT CHAPTER -----------------------

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#chris evans #chris #chris evans x reader #chris evans characters #andy barber #andy barber x you #andy barber reader insert #andy barber reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x Y/N #andy barber x #andy barber x y #dad!andy barber #jacob barber #andy barber female reader insert #andy barber x y/N fluff

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krirebr · 3 months

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Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

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

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

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list is open

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

#dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #dark fic #dark!andy barber #dark!fic #reader insert #chris evans fanfiction #ce characters #fanfic #trapped au #kris wrote something

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jadedvibes · 1 year

Note

to be his wife 🥰

Mrs. Barber

Oh what a dream ♡ Let's imagine what it'd be like if after leaving his ex he met a lawyer that was his ideal match.

Pairing: Andy Barber x lawyer!reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, swearing, fluff, possessive!andy sprinkled in.

Word Count: 825

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

From the moment he stepped into the courtroom and saw you were opposing counsel Andy knew he was screwed. The whispers of the woman that could rival him as a prosecutor moving to the district didn’t contain how beautiful you were.

Your stellar professional reputation preceded you, but your bewitching presence was a surprise that completely caught him off guard.

Andy wasn’t one to get flustered under the pressures of the court, but when you looked at him, his speech briefly stuttered along with his heart. Your words flowed eloquently, and your confidence made him grateful that it was an open-and-shut case, because once court was adjourned he decided that a woman as brilliant as you belonged with him.

He pursued you until you gave in, but it was a lot harder than he anticipated. You weren’t looking for anything, yet his persistence ensured that you found it anyway. The man wore you down with his kindness, helpfulness, and those dazzling blue eyes always giving you his undivided attention. Despite your cynicism, you let yourself fall for the lawyer with the complicated past.

Fortunately, Andy ensured that you didn’t regret it. And to further prove his commitment, he proposed after six months of dating you, simply because he needed you to be his, in every way possible.

Just like he made you his, every night since you agreed to go out with him. You thought it might be a bit too early to sleep with him after your first official date. But as he helped you out of his Audi and walked you to your front door with your hand firmly in his, you knew exactly what was going to happen.

“Tell me to leave, honey,” he mumbled against your lips after kissing you goodnight.

“But I want you to stay,” you whispered before opening your door.

He took care of you that night, worshiping every inch of your body, just like he wanted to from the moment his eyes laid on you.

Your attraction couldn’t stay confined to just your places at night, and that’s how stolen kisses at work turned into making love behind locked office doors. But sex wasn’t always like that, sometimes he’d fuck you, quick and rough, just enough to get you both there. Other days, he’d take his time, dominating you hard and slow; whispering the filthiest words you’d only hear when you got him like that.

“That’s it, honey. Go soft under me, fuck – this pussy’s so fuckin’ tight it’s like she wants to keep me inside,” Andy groaned against the shell of your ear, his beard grazing against your soft skin as he pounded into you. You felt him everywhere; his warm lips, his large hands, his hard length roughly sinking into you over and over again. Until you were screaming his name, barely able to hear him mutter how well you squeezed his cock and how pretty you were as you came for him.

The two of you eloped on a weekend trip in Portland, and the main thing that changed once you were officially his wife was that his adoration and devotion became even more intense.

Andy was a self-assured man, but now that you were his, you didn’t miss the way his possessiveness lingered whenever you interacted with other male colleagues. In fact, you loved the way he’d make it apparent that you belonged to him. You loved it even more when he took you home and reminded you that you were his Mrs. Barber – as if the ring on your finger and the hold on your heart wasn’t indication enough.

His protective nature, the way he cherished you as a partner and always took care of you made you fall for him more and more every day. A few colleagues at work even mentioned that you changed him for the better. He didn’t hide the fact that he was once a workaholic that prioritized his job more than anything in his past relationship; instead he made sure that you knew that you were his top priority through his actions. You were his new beginning, a chance to do things differently, and he certainly made the most of that.

Andy was the perfect husband to you, his wonderful wife.

Because you were his ideal partner. You were the warm softness to his rough exterior – although you were strong when you needed to be and Andy really admired that. You were the one that he trusted to tear down the tall walls he’d built up over the years. He needed someone that didn’t judge him about his past, that actually appreciated him, and saw him for the deeply caring man that he was. It amazed him how you fit the bill in every sense; a fact he expressed gratitude for often.

And now that Andy loves you, he can never stop. Because you’re his better half, his gorgeous and amazing wife, his Mrs. Barber.

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why-say · 1 year

Text

Andy (Chris evans) x reader imagine

Warnings: fucking in front of a window (i can’t remember what that’s called right now), dirty talk

I started an etsy account selling phone cases so check that out maybe :)

╭══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╮

It was a Thursday evening. You and Andy were having dinner with friends at this fancy restaurant which meant fancy clothes. You had already gotten dressed and you were standing in the front room of the penthouse staring at Andys back. He was standing in front of the large windows overlooking the city below with a glass in hand. You walk up to him.

"When are we leaving?" You say.

He turns to face you and before he can speak his gaze drops down your body. He's wearing a crisp black suit with his tie undone. He always looked good but him in suits was delicious. It was different.

"You look fucking stunning baby" He manages to spit out.

"Thank you" You reply with a blush. You weren’t a stranger to compliments and knew how to take them, but it was different when Andy gave them.

He sets his drink down and walks around you slowly before landing back in front of you. His fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

"Beautiful."

He spins you both, so he is behind you, and you’re at the window facing the city. He presses his body into you. You can feel the bulge in his pants pressing deep into your back. He kisses you deeply and you feel your mind swarm. Your body heating with his hands at the short hem of your dress, dragging it upwards.

"I want you," Andy whispers. "Right here baby where everyone can see you." His mouth pressed up against your ear.

"We have to leave soon..." You tried to remind him. Really you didn't care, if anything you would've gladly stayed home to fuck him for the rest of the night. But it was fun to tease him by resisting. He knew what you wanted anyways.

You heard him chuckle lightly. "We both know I could get you off in a minute if I needed to, but we have plenty of time so put your hands up on the glass and spread your legs for me, yeah?"

You give a sharp intake at his words and place your hands up on the window, feeling the cold glass against your heated body.

He continues lifting your dress but stops abruptly.

"Baby?" He says, all his movements halting. "Where are your panties?"

You can't help but giggle at his stunned tone. You had deliberately left them off as a surprise for at the restaurant or in the car, but he was so impatient it was happening now.

"I seemed to have lost them." Is your response, teasing.

"Is that right, hmm?" Andys gruffly voice making your body vibrate with lust.

He moves one hand to the entrance of your cunt, "I'm gonna fuck you, right here, for the whole city to see how you take me and your going to moan and groan until you can only think of my cock, okay?”

You nodded, the only response you could think to give.

You loved him like this, when he lost control and his composure and his rawness was left. It was what made you love him. Almost like he was connected to your thoughts he pushed into you with a sharp thrust, catching you off guard. One of his arms wraps around your waist and the other is holding up your own arms, pressing you harder into the window.

He moves slowly at first, knowing the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of you was everything. Andy had fucked you countless times but every time it was by the window it was a little more raw than ever. Knowing anyone could see you but not touch you. It drove him crazy almost more than it did you.

He was fucking into you so quickly you felt like you couldn’t catch a breath. Every time he pulled out, preparing to pump back in you felt empty, like you needed his cock back in you so you could breathe. You felt your eyes prick with tears and you didn’t bother to hide them.

Andy sees them falling down your face and kisses your cheeks, his hips work faster and you know it’s the sight of your tears making him want you more.

“Does it hurt baby?” He asks roughly. You nod your head. “Good.”

His hand makes its way back to your clit, rubbing and flicking it more. It’s too much. You try to pull away from him but it only pushes your cunt further down onto his cock. It’s a strange feeling and you let out a mix between a cry and a moan, adding to the sounds already floating in the apartment. It’s too much. Your body feels tight like it’s ready to pop.

He fucks you harder, the cold window soothing your burning skin. He’s whispering filthy things in your ear. Telling you he loves you this way, presented to the world, and thinking of nothing but cock. You can’t help it and you don’t want to so you come. It’s hard and sharp, you feel like your being pulled off a cliff and Andy isn’t far behind you. You cry out, loudly and Andy’s hand comes down to cover your mouth. It may have been a large apartment but people would still hear a scream that loud.

You feel his warm release coat the inside of your cunt and you spasm around him, hearing him hiss from the over stimulation.

“That was perfect, You we’re perfect baby.” He whispers, pulling his cock from you slowly. leaving you feeling empty. “C’mon we gotta go.”

If it were up to you you would be warming his cock all night long.

He pulls your dress down and pulls you to the elevator. It isn’t until your in the taxi you remember your not wearing any panties. And Andy’s cum is dripping from your cunt.

~~~

Let me know if you wanna see more Chris evans smut or strictly Timothée. :)

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flordeamatista · 2 years

Text

𝘼 𝘽𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙡𝙮 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙁𝙡𝙮

pairing: soft dark!Andy Barber x ballet dancer!Reader

concept: Dancer or dance? How can we tell if a dance is free?

word count: 2.5k

warnings: soft dark Andy, blindfold, desire, fingering, poetic smut, lust, rough sex, p in v smut, body worship, possessive Andy, public sex-dressing room, tiny angst, unprotected sex, manipulation, dance themes,— nicknames: butterfly

a/n: Inspired by my ballet days and the song experience --Ludovico Eunaudi

lovely betas: @jobean12-blog and @writing-for-marvel

line divider: @s-tarksintern

Masterlist

Flying without wings, traveling without moving, seeing the entire universe without opening your eyes.

As you move, you embody your own language, poetic and emotional in a way you can't express with your words; seeing the audience's faces brighten up with happiness, sadness, or anger fills you with excitement.

Through one of your art pieces, you showed the crowd your story and danced into the emotions of expressing the story through your body. The movement flowed smoothly through your body, and you felt your hips your hips extending as your leg elongated up through your toes

Upon hearing the first melody, you closed your eyes, forcing a deep breath out of your nose into your lungs. To prove your exceptionality, you must prove your worth. In dance, the body is used as a medium to tell a tale with music. The aim is to create an artistic image with tunes in the bones.

The rhythm began to move you as soon as you heard the mellow beat, your limbs fully extended with every downbeat.

You continued your routine, adjusting certain parts of your body to emphasize them. Seeing for his eyes only, since he was the reason you were on stage to begin with.

While standing in the doorway, his mouth curled into a smile. Watching your body move in sync with the music, he was captivated by its alluring appearance.

His eyes break out of the trance, but only to be sucked back in by a trance much more alluring in your eyes. Stepping forward, he gazed into the mirror and met your eyes. Your skin came alive with the light of his crystalline gaze, illuminating every inch of your body and making you hyper-aware of his presence from head to toe.

You stopped your movement and looked down at him in the mirror as he pulled a thick piece of black cloth from his jacket pocket. He quickly moved up behind you and placed the satin pink ribbon binding around your eyes. His blue eyes are going to be your eyes now, and he will lead you further into what you desire. He will make the light shine when he is around.

In spite of the darkness that surrounds my soul, it will rise in perfect light

Your eyes almost watered as you felt the ribbon slide over them. Andy's fingertips gently brushed the soft skin of your cheek. The sweet smell of his cologne and the way he touched your body made you want to dance.

In the same manner, as a soft classical melody, you whispered into the room: "You shouldn't be in here."

You will endure the pain of satin ribbons tightening your eyes , but Andy will lead the way.

It sounded like he was moving away from you and closing the door behind him. The sound startled you. Your heart raced as you heard the lock turn.

He whispered into your ear, “Butterfly, if you want me to stop, I won't.”

You felt the heat of his breath against your skin. “Do you know why I won’t stop coming to you?” Through the mirror, he leaned closer to your neck to watch your movements.

“Because you are mine to dance with. Day and night.”

There was no fear that you would tell him to stop, who would refuse Andy and tell him to leave?

The touch of his lips on your ear made you loosen up. Though you couldn't see him, you stepped back and pressed yourself against him.

Your back pressed against his front, and he inhaled deeply.

“'I want a show of my pussy' sounds”

Your body brushed against his hips like a lover's dance.

Your skin was so soft and he began kissing your neck, lightly nibbling at the most sensitive part. Your body seemed to be engulfed in flames when his lips touched your bare skin.

"Oh my!" you moan when Andy pokes his hungry mouth on your neck.

"You were good tonight. I wasn't planning to stay, but I was going to send you my appreciation."

Andy bites down on your collarbone. Almost a growl escapes your lips. The moan he carved from your body. Tonight, your dance together begins with that moan.

“You’ve got it, don’t you? That high. You want to be worshiped and adored."

The words touched your body deeply and the truth penetrated your spirit. Being the best in the program was important to you, and you wanted to be seen in your own right. The moment of truth is Andy's way of showing you that you must be blind if you want to be seen, and that is what he needs to show you.

You felt shockwaves through your body as you imagined what he might do next if he knew how you felt. With your head turned to the side, you made access easier for him.

Let yourself be swept away to another world, another time, another place.

You were experiencing difficulties forming words, but your body was speaking for you. Andy kissed you on the neck and smiled. His hands moved to your waist as he pulled you closer, and you could feel his hard-on pulling against the fabric of his pants.

Under your pink ballet leotards, he was curious to see what was hidden for him. His fingers danced over your body. As he ripped away the fabric along your shoulders, your bare back was exposed to him. Your body is a dance floor for him to do his steps on.

Cool air hit your hot skin as he caressed it softly with his artful fingers. There was almost an electric sensation as his hands glided across your skin like magic. It seemed like tiny lightning bolts flew from his body to yours.

In the room, there seemed to be a thick layer of air. Andy found it almost impossible to breathe. A slow dance, exposing just a bit of your skin at a time, was the way he hoped to capture every feature, every dimple, every freckle, and every curve on your body.

The material was moved off your arms and then to your waist. You were exposed to him as he kneeled behind you, pulling the dress further down your body. With a gentle pull down your leg, he lifted the thong off your legs and began kissing your legs up to your spine.

A soft feathery kiss to the skin. You let out a small whimper when you felt him kiss your skin and feel liquid fire coursing through your veins.

Andy stood back up and ran his hands up your body. As he kissed your neck again, he whispered softly into your ear. "Butterfly, tell me what you want."

A sense of urgency echoed through your voice as you said, "I want to be yours to dance with".

The powerful emotions Andy now felt were totally different from the ones he used to feel when he first saw you dance. There seemed to be electricity between you two, fueling your desires, and sparking your passions.

He removed his jacket and tossed it aside.

Loosening his tie, he began unbuttoning his white dress shirt. His plan was to show you what you owed him.

“Despite what you showed the crowd, you're going to show me more. I will get the special treatment of seeing and feeling your steps" The sound of him removing his clothes could be heard as you stood there.

You didn't even take the blindfold off because you knew it would cause a harsh reaction from him. Turning carefully, you placed your hands on the dressing table before reaching out to touch his chest. As you caressed his muscular chest, Andy groaned at your fingertips.

People dance notes, and you dance with Andy.

Every second was filled with deep and aching joy. You brushed up to his strong jaw, lightly grazing his neck with your fingertips. He was impressed by how you felt so far. A few kisses landed on his chest from your lips. You slid the shirt off after running your hands over his chest and shoulders.

Andy grinned. Seeing that you wanted it as much as he did, he realized he was not alone. In one swift motion, he grabbed your waist and pulled you against him. His hand touched your chin and he tilted your head upward. Your lips was kissed by a greedy, hungry mouth. As his tongue danced past your lips, he smiled. Your mouth was filled with a warm woodsy flavor. Every tiny detail and secret spot was explored by his tongue.

Your arms encircled his neck, your breasts pressed against his chest as your lips met, brushing against his strong muscular body. There was nothing better than kissing Andy because he made you weak. Just in his kiss, he exuded the passion that lingered within his soul. The harder he pressed his body against yours, the harder he got. Your fingers ran through his soft hair, chuckling behind the kiss.

In one swift motion, he ran his fingertips along the center of your back, causing you to squirm against him. He then broke the kiss and began to kiss you along your shoulder, scraping the skin with his teeth. He began reaching down into your heated core, which he knew would be wet and inviting for him.

The deep lyrics of love spoke through touch or caress, the laceration of hearts was done with one glance. His glance.

Every muscle in your body stiffened in anticipation. What would he do to you next? "I can't take much more," you said softly, your voice trembling in the air, "I can't, Sir."

There was almost a pleading quality to your melody, as if you wanted to be pampered and taken care of. The soft skin of your thighs was brushed by his fingers. His quest led him to the location he had long desired. With his finger, he massaged your pussy, parting the folds. You were drenched. You were pushed back towards the mirror dresser by him.

A silky moan of pleasure escaped your lips as he explored between your thighs. His finger was even more teasing now that he had located your center of pleasure. A cold rush of air touched your backside as you backed up toward the dresser.

The blindfold still covered your eyes. At this precise moment, your body was on for him. Attempting to free his swollen cock, you grasped the front of his pants and fumbled with the buttons and fly. His gaze was fixed on every move you made as you struggled with his pants.

You were the beginning of his dance. He would have fun with you.

"Simply take it..." He took a deep breath in and he bucked his hips in a hard, deep thrust. During the shock, your throat let out a mumble. "I'll hold on until...I force you to come the way I want you to."

"Please—I…"

"You feel that," he said, kissing your lips and caressing your head. "You know how it feels,"

"Yes, sir." At his size, your throat tightened as you swallowed hard.

"Good…" Andy grinned as he wrapped your leg around his waist. "All I want is for you to come for me.."

He pounded inside you as he caressed your thigh. Two hands soon guided your hips, forming a fast rhythm. You let out a raucous mutter of contentment.

Male and female dancers need to be synchronized and have a strong romance. A male dancer controls the female's body while you move delicately around him. The way your body reacted to him hypnotized him. He can do whatever he wants and make you feel however he wants.

Pushing himself into you and then pulling out. He could feel the pressure in his cock building already. As you tightened around him, he groaned under the kiss. He knew that you were probably feeling the pressure just as fast as he was. His lips tore away from yours, as he bent his head to bite at your neck.

Andy could feel you tightening around his throbbing cock. The grip he had on your neck stiffened as he moved faster. Feeling you at last. His throbbing cock continued to cause cum to leak out of your pussy while your moans grew louder.

Screaming loudly, you threw your head back. A sudden and intense orgasm nearly caught you off guard. You buried your nails deep into his skin as explosions erupted in your mind. He could feel your cum spilling over him, lubricating your entrance even more. You contracted and pulsed around him, trying to take the pleasure out of him.

In response to your orgasm, he slammed harder into your delicate body. Seeing you tighten around him and pulse hard, he groaned loudly. Almost coming there and then, he bit down on his lip hard. It wasn't yet time for him to stop fucking you. There was no way he was going to stop. By reaching up, he removed the blindfold from your eyes.

He looked at you. Your eyes were only half open, but you were filled with passion.

There is a sense of darkness in every moment when I close my eyes

There was something deeply moving about his ice blue eyes. You continued to feel aftershocks. The dressing room echoed with your moans.

With lust, he kissed your body gently and you closed your eyes again, this time looking into your blackness.

Despite working your whole life to get into this ballet company, everyone seems to work against you. The moment you met Andy, you were surrounded by girls who envied you. To make you the best in the world, he needed you to dance one for him to use as his canvas. Every night after your show, as he tells a story with your body, he stretches you.

It's the perfect time to tell you about a couple who fell in love after your performance, isn't it? And you did the same, taking your time to enjoy the sparks that ran through your veins while you held Andy's hand, the butterflies that filled your senses when he was holding your waist, the flush on your skin when his eyes were full of lust.

Dancer or dance? How can we tell if a dance is free?

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sagechanoafterdark · 2 years

Note

If you’re still taking smutty prompts, then how about #4 “Use your words” and #24 “You can do better than that”? 👀🤭

Laura you didn't give me a boy!! Oh well, I'll just pick one and spin the wheel 😏 Oops I did it again. Another long drabble. I don't think anyone complaining though.

Enjoy!

"Holy fuck!" You exclaimed in a heated whisper, spreading your legs a little more and shifting your weight. Your breath comes in quick pants as a flush of heat through your skin and scorches your soul.

Andy's fingers work magic against your sensitive bud as coos and praises fall from his lips against your ear. Legs spread as wide as they can be in the passenger seat, your hips thrust out with the seat laid back just a little to make it comfortable.

He's whipping you into a frenzy faster than you’d care to admit. But Andy had been working you up since this morning, you were wound up so tight that it felt like you were dying.

"Please Andy," you whine, hand clenched around his wrist as he plays with you.

"Please?" His lips trail over the shell of your ear, breath hot against your neck before pressing the softest of kisses against your temple. "You can do better than that, Kitten."

On cue, a mewling gasp breaks free as he slides two fingers into you. Stretching and making you needier than ever as your hips buck against his palm. Shaking the car with your movement, the springs squeak in the silent garage and Andy clicks his tongue.

"Look at that pussy," he muses, fingers sliding in and out at an almost torturous pace. "Gripping my fingers so tight."

"Mmmh, Andy," you pant turning your head towards him. Licking your suddenly dry lips wanting to beg for his kiss, "Please."

He's merciless.

Andys fingers curl, pressing against the spot inside that makes you both brainless and boneless. The sound of your sopping wet core becoming more drenched as he scissors and stretches you to his pleasure.

Grunting with a moan of approval as you soak his hand and he husks against your ear, “All this for me?” His fingers rub your little clit in tight circles before thrusting back into you with ease. "Fuck just look at that. Gripping these fat fingers, Kitten. You just never want to let go."

Your hand fists in his suit jacket, desperate to hold onto something. Leaning forward you try to catch his lips, but he dodges you with an almost sadistic smirk. "Use your words," he cooed above you, slipping his thumb against your clit. "Come on Kitten, let me hear you."

"Please," you managed to shudder out, hands tugging him closer in the car. "Please, Andy. I- I can't take it."

"Yes you fucking can," he snarls out with a cruel twist of his finger that has you keening. "You can fucking take it, cause you're my girl. Isn't that right?"

Nodding your eyes look desperately over at him, breath shuddering from your lungs as Andy's fingers spread you, working you over and bringing that tide closer and closer.

“Say it,” he rasps, hand fisting into your hair and wrenching your head back roughly. "Say. It."

"I-I'm yours," you stutter out, grinding against his palm. Hips desperate to fall over the edge. "All yours Andy. Please. Please more."

"Greedy girl," he reprimanded, teeth dragging against the curve of your jaw before dipping against your ear once again. "Gonna cum all over my fingers, Kitten?"

Nodding your head your hips roll hard, the heel of his hand bumping and grinding against your clit. Pleasure building and building with every stroke, every thrust. "A-Andy..."

"That's it, Kitten," he cooed, voice as warm as honey. "Let go."Everything in you locked up at that very moment, your body shaking as Andy finally claimed your mouth. Tongue sloppily caressing against your open mouth cries before you fiercely kiss him back. Hand tangling in the hair at the back of his head at the shuddering breath that leaves you.

Pulling back Andy's soft voice praises you in quiet whispers, his breath fanning against your skin, “Good girl.”

#sagechano responds #shit this is the second kinda mean one i did #clearly i've got something to work out lolol #nobodys complaining though least of all me #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x you #andy barber x plus size reader #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber reader insert

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howdoyousleep3 · 1 year

Text

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~2K Notable Tags: Forbidden Relationship, Age Difference, Size Kink, Verbal Humiliation, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Crying, Mild Dub Con, Breeding Kink, Mention of Squirting, Possessiveness (!!!), Gaslighting, Light Angst at the End A/N: I've been balls deep in my teddy bear daddy andy thoughts lately and sURprISE they are filthy. I've never dabbled in step-relationships before. Heed the tags as this is a bit darker than I usually write, forbidden relationship aside. Seems like I have a thing for Andy Barber in the back of cars. I hope you enjoy! 🧡 Read here on Ao3.

A heavy downpour of rain batters against the windows of your stepfather’s sleek car, thunder cracks across the darkened sky, and yet the shrill sound of your squeal is in no way dampened.

“Fuck yeah, that’s right— be as loud as you want out here, little girl. Your mama ain’t here to catch you stuffed with your stepdaddy’s dick, is she?”

You shake your head no vehemently, choke on your sob as Andy’s words bounce around your empty skull like marbles, heavy and demanding, just as his cock is inside of your swollen and overused pussy. Your mother’s husband takes your reaction as an answer to his question and less so as a stark denial of your shared and scandalous predicament, as it was intended.

You’re obviously far past the point of being able to deny what is happening between the two of you though. After all, Andy is balls-deep inside of your trembling body, pounding into you with such ferocity you’re certain the car is rocking in its spot hidden on a backroad.

His chuckle is dark in your ear, against your jaw where he nips at it tightly in response to your outward denial. His mouth doesn’t linger long though, both because of the insistent snapping of his hips between your spread thighs and because he’s reached this point.

You hate how much you love this point.

“Look what you’ve made me fuckin’ do, sweetheart. Look what you’re makin’ Daddy do,” he whispers against your slack mouth, driving his cock against that sweet little spot inside of you again and again and again. Andy’s so big, his cock so thick, that your breath is shoved from your lungs with a pathetic noise each and every time he slides home. His words make your slippery pussy even more wet, the sound of it getting fucked arguably louder than the noises dripping from your lips.

It’s your fault, it's always your fault. Andy’s told you that from the very beginning of this affair, gets angry each and every time you’re together in such a forbidden and feral way as this, that you’re the reason you and your stepdad do bad bad things together.

Your head spins where you’re contorted, the two of you taking up damn near every inch of the backseat, leather sticky with your shared sweat, spit, and slick. Your tears. You’re laid out as best you can be, flat on your back where Andy insists you belong, legs pried apart and indecently spread to accommodate the older man’s burly waist.

“V’got no choice but to give this tiny pussy what it’s been askin’ for when you walk around flauntin’ it, when you walk around just beggin’ for it,” he tells you, dropping his weight down on top of you with a guttural noise, the fingers of both hands delving through your hair and holding tight as he ruts into you. “Daddy’s got no choice, baby. Fuck, you understand right, sugar? You know your Daddy’s got no choice but to give this pussy what it needs to stay happy?”

You mewl, loud and long, noise almost mournful. You tell yourself that you hate yourself, that you’re ashamed of each moment that has led up to this one, of your filthy relationship with your stepfather, but even as you whine and sob as you’re stuffed with the biggest dick you’ve ever had, you nod your head and spread your legs impossibly wider.

“Daddy’s got no ch-choice,” you hiccup, fingers digging into his denim-clad ass, the muscles underneath your grip straining as he grinds down deep between your legs. Your pussy stretches around his girth, that shameful familiarity making your toes curl, making your eyes fight to roll back. You feel trapped in the best, most delicious and bittersweet way possible, dizzy with dick as Andy holds you down and fucks into you at a relentless pace.

His sac, his balls, are heavy as they slap against the curve of your ass, the show of such masculinity leaving your femininity no choice but to clench and flutter. The boys on campus could never make you feel this way.

“Yeah, this is a Daddy’s responsibility, isn’t it? You walk around in your tiny fuckin’ dresses and your tiny fuckin’ shorts, shirts showin’ your pretty little tits off, just askin’ for somebody to breed this baby pussy right up,” Andy bites out, breath hot and damp against your lips, fingers tightening in your hair. “But this isn’t just anybody’s job, is it?”

You know exactly what he wants to hear, know the words he’s trained you to say, but words are hard, are so very hard when you’re damn near overstimulated, damn near delirious, ashamed on top of it all. You don’t dare wait too long to answer though, your first attempt coming out slurred and messy, your second attempt sounding stronger.

“This is Daddy’s pussy,” you mumble, your voice bouncing with each of the older man’s thrusts, impossible heat rising to your cheeks, an even more impossible twist tightening in your core. “S’Daddy’s job, taking…takin’ care of my pussy.” Andy groans, mouth dropping open as his eyes bounce between your mouth and your bare tits, Andy having yanked the top of your dress down moments before he fucked your mouth in the front seat. He reaches for them then, both hands grabbing and squeezing them in his palms, chin dropping to roughly suck one and then the other nipple into his mouth.

You lose the battle against the roll of your eyes.

“Nobody feeds this pussy like Daddy does, ain’t that right?”

“N-nobody, Daddy. No…nobody!”

Andy growls.

“You can fall into bed with as many punks as you want while you’re away at school, but they can’t give you what I can. This pussy is greedy, this pussy is needy, a fuckin’ brat. She needs Daddy. She’s always gonna come runnin’ back to Daddy, yeah? Ain’t that right?”

He’s close. His words alone tell you this, as does the sloppy dig of his hips, his hungry mouth on your nipples forcing you to sob. You hate yourself for how easily you respond, for how easily your pussy responds to his words, his rough treatment close to pulling another orgasm out of you. You tremble underneath him, shake from head to toe as you greedily push your tits up into your stepfather’s hungry mouth.

You hate that he’s right.

You hate that you think of him every time you fuck someone at a party or invite someone back to your apartment. You hate that no one makes you come like he does, fucks you like he does, dominates you like he does. He has complete control over your body, almost your mind too, and he knows it.

You can’t seem to maintain a relationship, can’t bring yourself to date someone, picturing him and yearning for him when you fuck someone.

And you blame Andy for that.

But he’d happily take that blame.

It infuriates you, lights you up from the inside out and pushes you closer towards your orgasm.

“No, no I—”

“You what?” he spits, rutting into you sloppily as he growls, pulling your hair back to expose the line of your throat. “You don’t think I own this pussy? You think someone else could claim it? You think you own it?”

“I don’t, I don’t think—”

“That’s right— you don’t fucking think. You don’t need to think when you’ve got the tightest, pinkest pussy that needs to be fuckin’ fed by her Daddy every fuckin’ day.”

You’d like to think that his words aren’t what shove you over the edge, that it’s the press of his cock against your sweet spot, that it’s the way the walls of your pussy remain sensitive from your last orgasm. But as you bite down on your bottom lip to fight the tell of your climax racing through you, you know your orgasm is indeed because of his words and the way they echo with possessiveness and ownership.

You come apart in an instant, crushing pleasure breaking you down, racing through every last crevice of your body.

His hand is around your throat then, his mouth pressed tightly to yours as he chuckles darkly, as he fucks you through your not-so-secret orgasm.

“Daddy…!”

“That’s fuckin’ right— this is Daddy’s pussy, little girl. The sooner you learn that the better.”

Your whine is long and drawn out, mournful as you easily give into Andy’s kisses, his tongue, his cock. It’s harder for you to breathe with his own fingers digging into the skin of your neck and with another few pounds of his hips, you’re gasping into his mouth, reaching to wrap your own hand around his wrist. Your pussy sobs, your pussy aches. It’s too much, so much, and you start to tear up and thrash underneath Andy’s body, free hand betraying you as you press it against his ass.

“Fuck, it’s your favorite part, baby,” he pants, hand around your throat not letting up. “Daddy’s ready to come.”

You might come again, fuck.

“Take your Daddy’s load, pretty girl. Take it all, every last drop. Been savin’ it all for you, milk it outta Daddy’s balls, come on.”

“Oh god, oh god…!”

The angle of the last of Andy’s thrusts are sharp, movement grinding his shaft against your clit to the point of pain, to the point of chaotic sensation. One orgasm seems to roll into the next, the beginning of your stepfather’s climax setting your own impossible one off. Your hand falls from holding his ass and his wrist, your neck goes lax, your eyes roll back into your head. You’re pure feeling, pure sensation, a hole. You love it. You hate how much you love the orgasms your mother’s husband gives you, the way he fucks you, the way he fills you up with his come.

You don’t realize Andy’s teeth are dug into your shoulder until you come to, head spinning as Andy groans and harshly fucks his hips forward, pressing in tight, too tight.

“You think about this,” Andy pants into your ear, fingers of one hand stroking along any part of your body he can reach, greedily grabbing and pulling at your tits, your hips, your waist. “You think about this when you’re with anybody else. That the pussy they’re about to enjoy has a Daddy. That they can take your pussy however they want, but at the end of the day, she’s taken.”

Taken.

You embrace the fuzziness of your brain, the slowed echo of your thoughts, and don’t think too deeply about his words or his claim on you; that’s not something you wish to think about in this moment or ever.

Sticky between your thighs, sore already, Andy plants kiss after kiss along your neck as he always does when your time together is coming to a close. But when he goes to pull away, you find yourself wrapping your arms around his back and pulling him into you. You’re surprised when he doesn’t question you or poke fun at you. You both know that leaving to go back to school at the close of the summer is difficult for you, but you both know that you’ll never share feelings like this outloud.

You’re grateful he doesn’t pull away, grateful that he lets you hold onto him a little longer.

Of course he knows when you’re finally ready to leave. And in place of the usual filthy comment or direction about what is to happen when you both arrive back home, you’re surprised when he questions, “You’re ready to go home?”

No.

“Yes.”

Andy sighs into your ear.

“Let’s go home then.”

#howdoyousleep kinktober 2022 #howdoyousleep #my writing #andy barber #reader insert #female reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you

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rosewritestuff · 2 years

Text

G-Spot

Andy Barber x Reader; dub!con, stepdad!andy, age gap (reader is 20, Bucky is late 40s) fingering, daddy kink

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

You moaned, your fingers circling your clit, hand down your pants. You were spread out on your bed, feet planted and back arching off the bed as you tried to find your elusive g-spot. You were 20 for gods sake, it shouldn't be this hard to find it still.

You blew out a frustrated breath, flopping back onto your bed just as your stepdad, Andy walked by. You quickly yanked your hand out of your pants, hoping he hadn't seen, silently groaning when you realized your hand smelled. You casually tucked it under the blanket, as he asked, "Everything okay honey?"

Your heart fluttered and you whispered, "Yeah, everything's fine."

He frowned. "Can I come in?" When you weakly nodded, he walked in and sat down on your bed, turned to face you. You flushed, looking down at your bed.

"What's going on, sweetheart? You look like you're about to cry," Andy said, sliding his hand through your hair.

"I think there's something wrong with me," you whispered.

Andy's eyebrows furrowed and he gripped your chin in his hand. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you honey, now who told you that?"

Tears welled in your eyes as you blurted out, "I can't find my g-spot!" Horrified, you clapped your hands over your mouth.

Andy suppressed a smile. "Is that it sweetheart? Hell, I thought someone had said or done something to you, I was about to go out right now and find the kid. Aw honey, don't cry," Andy said, reaching over and thumbing away your tears. "If all you need is to find your g-spot, I can help with that. I've found a fair few in my lifetime," Andy winked at you.

You flushed, and stammered, "H-how can you help?"

"Well, sweetheart, first I gotta make sure you do have one. Then I gotta make sure it's working. And then after that, then I can show you how to find it," Andy explained as if talking to a child, pressing on your shoulder until you were laying back.

"Um, I don't know how you're gonna find it, I've been trying for years and haven't, how are you gonna do from there?" you asked.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not doing it from here. I'm doing it in here," Andy said, reaching down under the blanket, past your still open pants, and cupping your pussy through your soaked underwear.

You gasped, trying to pull away, but his other hand gripped your hip, holding you to him.

"Don't go anywhere baby girl, Daddy's gonna make you feel so good," Andy groaned, sliding his fingers into your pussy, making your breath hitch.

Andy stretched you, his fingers longer and thicker than yours, three of his feeling like four of yours. You panted, squirming in his hold, before gasping, "Daddy!" as he brushed against something.

"Oh there it is!" Andy cried, stroking that same spot. You jolted, and he began rapidly rubbing that spot, making your body curl up. You were overwhelmed, the pleasure wouldn't stop building, it was going to swallow you whole. It finally broke, sending you spinning dizzily. This is what everyone was talking about when they talked about mind-blowing orgasms.

You came down from your high, ears ringing, to see Andy sucking his fingers. "Taste sweeter than I imagined," he said grinning wickedly.

#andy barber #chris evans characters #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x female reader #smut #no y/n #reader insert

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nomadstucky · 2 years

Text

Title: Safe Haven Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: A look at your first kiss with Andy Barber. Warnings: None, fluff.

Shoutout to some amazing people!! @cuttlefjsh and @universitypenguin I thank the two of you for going over my work!! As always, any and all mistakes/errors are my own! I'm super excited to be writing for Andy!! <3

It hadn’t been long since you had started dating Andy. It had been months after the tragedy that became Andy’s life, and you had attempted to become a safe haven for him. There was always the hope that this attempt had connected with him as well. Andy, of course, held a soft spot for you, and only you.

Andy still held a lot of respect and some semblance of love for Laurie. You knew he always would. However, it wasn’t to the degree that it was before when the two were together. Laurie had been the first woman Andy was ever truly with, wholeheartedly. You weren’t worried about him and Laurie. The two were a thing of the past, and you were quite secure in your relationship with Andy.

Andy had invited you over for dinner, and you gladly accepted. He had made a lovely dish that he claimed he adored when he was younger. You had a wonderful time with him, but then again it was always an amazing time with Andy. Here you were, standing by the front window, watching as the rain came down. It seemed so symbolic.

Most times, the rain came at a good time where it wasn’t too humid out, and it provided a slight cool breeze. Andy came up behind you, settling his hands along your hips. “Penny for your thoughts?” His calm voice washed over you.

You giggled, spinning around in his arms, “Hi handsome.” You ran your hands along his arms. “I think… You should come with me.” slowly stepping away from him. Andy followed you, without question. He always would. You giggled and took his hand, pulling him with you outside into the rain.

“Baby, what’re you doing? I don’t want you to get sick.” Andy asked softly. You giggled and let go of his hand, walking down to the driveway. You twirled and danced and ran around, giggling the entire time. Andy smiled, watching you enjoy yourself.

You motioned him over, and he gladly walked over to you. Giggling, you took his hand and started waltzing around with him. Andy started twirling you, dipping you, and laughing along. Slowly the two of you stopped, and you stood there with Andy. Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the proximity, but also enjoyed the rain falling on your face.

You felt the back of Andy’s hand brush against your cheek. You slowly opened your eyes, and found Andy much closer. “Can I?” He tentatively asked.

You giggled, “I’d be pretty upset now if you didn’t” you spoke as quietly as Andy had. And that’s the only confirmation Andy needed before pressing his lips to yours. You allowed Andy full control of the kiss. You allowed yourself to merely feel him.

Once Andy pulled away, his eyes held a certain spark that wasn’t there before. “You sure you’ve never done that before?” He playfully asked.

“Well,” You said, slipping out of his arms, “I didn’t say I’ve never kissed anyone. I just haven’t kissed you.” You giggled before taking off in a sprint back towards the house. Andy’s laugh echoed as he ran after you.

It was moments like these you would treasure.

#Andy Barber Fic #Andy Barber #Andy Barber x Female Reader #Reader Insert #Andy Barber Fluff #Andy Barber x Reader

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hertzwritings · 2 years

Text

The Barber boys and the bakery chapter 2

A/N: I’m trying to take care of my physical and mental health these days, and it seems like an actually IMPOSSIBLE task. Which is why I escape into this fluffy world of the Barber boys and their baker. I’m BLOWN AWAY with the response to this, and I’m glad to see you guys loving it as much as I do. Also, a GIANT I love you and thank you to @buckyshattergirl who pretty much co-wrote this.

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized something – the sky is the limit, my loves!

Remember, feedback feeds the soul (min in particular) and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.

MASTERLIST

CHRIS EVANS MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Andy Barber x female reader

Contains: language, fluff, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of PTSD, a sliver of angst, spoilers for Defending Jacob (mostly the last two episodes)

W.C: 3.000

The sleepover

Andy was normally never one, who got surprised or taken aback about anything. He usually stayed on top of everything, knew the most outcomes, but Y/N had kind of invaded his life and he had no idea how anything was about to go, when she was near. Since the first time they met, she and Jacob spent a lot more time together at the bakery. After a while, Andy told Jacob that he could just bring Y/N home, because he was worried about Jacob walking home alone at night. If he was being completely honest, though, he kind of also wanted to see her. It was also nice knowing someone was around to keep an eye on Jacob, when Andy couldn’t be home. It actually added something, he hadn’t experienced in his house in a while, which was Jacob’s laughter and the smell of baked goods. The house became a home, slowly, but surely. One thing was a new house, but even in the old house with Laurie, it didn’t feel like this. Happy.

Which is why he wasn’t surprised to see her shoes – covered in flour, of course – in the hallway, when he came home from work and toed his own shoes off, before letting his bag fall to the ground. What he didn’t expect, though, was the loud noises coming from the living room – it sounded like a mix of singing and two cats dying. He frowned and walked towards the sound, and – though it shouldn’t surprise him – found Y/N and Jacob standing across from each other, screaming out the song that played in the background. At further inspection, he saw that it was a movie, not a song, and before he had time to figure what movie, they both began singing (dying?) again.

“YOU” Jacob screamed. “ME, we’re FACE TO FACE BUT WE…” Y/N gestured wildly. “DON’T SEE EYE TO EEEEEEEYEE!” Jacob jumped on the spot, before continuing. “WE’RE LIKE FIRE AND RAAAAIN!” Y/N screamed. “FIRE AND RAAAAIN!” Jacob was in his feelings, clearly, because he was on his knees now. “YOU REALLY DRIVE ME INSAAAN… Oh, Hi, Andy.” Y/N stopped singing and waved, and Jacob paused the movie before standing up and waving at Andy. “Hi, dad.” “Hi, kiddo and hi, Y/N. What’re you guys up to?” He asked, slipping his jacket off. Y/N’s eyes lingered on his arms for a moment. “We’re doing a duet. Clearly.” Jacob said with a grin. “Oh, that’s what that was? I could’ve sworn it was a catfight.” Y/N gasped. “Heathen. We sounded amazing.” Andy raised his eyebrows at her. “What, uh… Have you guys had anything to eat yet?” He asked, rubbing his neck – he tried very hard not to stare at Y/N, who wore a gorgeous green dress, that let him see a lot more cleavage (and tattoos) than he had expected. He shouldn’t be looking, but it was kind of hard to tear his eyes away, when all he could think about was tracing her tattoos with his tongue. What on earth was happening to him? Jacob’s eyes moved back and forth between Andy and Y/N, before he scoffed and pointed at Y/N. “Disrespectfully, dad, Y/N is here.” Y/N laughed a little at that and pointed to the kitchen. “I accidentally made enough pasta to feed a small army.” It wouldn’t be the first time. Andy had come home after a late night at the office and found that Y/N and Jacob had made pizza, which was just about enough to last them for a month (“Dad, we needed to make all of them, how else were we going to get all the toppings on there?”), and the time before that, she made lasagna. There were still two full lasagnas in the freezer as they spoke. “A large army.” Jacob interjected, and Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m used to cooking for one, sorry if my pasta-proportions are a little off.” “By like… A lot.” Jacob grinned and looked at his phone. “Oh, I’m headed up. We’re playing Resident Evil.” “Who’s we and what’s Resident Evil?” Andy asked, slightly confused. Jacob rolled his eyes. “You’re seriously too old for your own good. We are Derek, me, Ashleigh, Hope and Sam. And I’m not even going to try to explain the beauty of Resident Evil.” And with that, Jacob turned on his heel and went up the stairs to his room. Andy laughed a little and his heart skipped a beat, when he saw how Y/N looked up at the stairs, her eyes soft and a sweet smile on her lips. She turned to him. “Teenagers, right?” He nodded. “Are you hungry?” She asked and smiled at him – it kickstarted his entire system. How a smile could make him feel like this, he didn’t understand. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I could eat.” “Well, come along then, Hotshot.” She laughed and led the way to the kitchen, where she began heating up the dinner – it smelled amazing, and he couldn’t help but admire her as she stood in his kitchen, an array of very inappropriate thoughts running through his mind. How she would look bent over the breakfast-bar. How she belonged here. He pulled himself out of his head when she spoke again.

“I think Jake might need a therapist.” She said softly. He frowned. “Huh?” He already asked Jacob if he wanted to go to therapy to deal with everything that had happened, but Jacob had responded with “If Imma be sad, Imma do it with pizzaz”, and they kind of left it at that. She piled a bunch of pasta onto a plate and handed it to him, before she opened a wine next to her like it was second nature to her to give him a glass of wine – his favorite, he realized. She placed the glass next to his plate and poured herself some too, before she sat down in front of him, biting her lip. “I know…” She paused and took a sip. He followed her, allowing the wine to calm his nerves a little. “I know Jake’s been dealing in his own way.” “With pizzaz, if I recall.” He said softly, jabbing his fork into the pasta. He liked the pride on her face, whenever he ate something, she made. “Yeah, with pizzaz. I think…” She sighed. “Listen, I know I’m not really in a position to say anything about this, but lately… He’s been off. I don’t know why, maybe we’re nearing the anniversary of something…” She looked pointedly at Andy, who swallowed thickly.

Truth was, they were nearing the anniversary of that fucking day. The day, where Laurie drove the car into the side of a bridge, hysterically asking Jacob if he killed Ben, and it left a lot of marks on Jacob. Not physical, but Andy knew his son, and he knew that Jacob was dealing. Not well, but he was trying. “All I’m saying is that maybe he’d do good with a few sessions. I know a few great therapists, that specializes in trauma in young adults and PTSD. I can give you their numbers, if you want them.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Listen, Y/N, I appreciate you trying here, I really do, but…” “I get it. Not my circus, not my monkeys, right?” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he saw a sliver of the same fire, she had in her eyes the day he met her. “Listen to me, Andrew…” He almost lurched back in his chair. Oh, she was scary when she was like this – and it was the first time, she’d ever used his full name and not just called him Hotshot or Andy. “That kid? He’s the single most amazing kid, I’ve ever met. He’s kind, he has the biggest heart, he has a hell of a lot more understanding of the world and the people in it, than anybody who’s been through what he has, should. He is doing his best to hide the fact, that he’s terrified, feels alone and scared, because he doesn’t want to burden you with it. I’m telling you right now, that kid would walk through hell and back if it meant keeping you happy.” “I am…” “I’m not done.” She cut him off and took a sip of her wine. “He doesn’t want to talk about what happened, but I read the news when the trial started. I know what he went through, although I’m pretty sure there’s way more to the story than he’s been willing to let on. I also know that he cannot bear this alone, Andy. He needs help.” She leaned back in her chair and her eyes softened. “I know you think you’re helping him by not talking about it, but you’re not. I… he loves you so much, that little shit, but you’re both knuckleheads, that won’t talk about your feelings.” Andy was reeling. Was he hurting Jacob by not forcing him into therapy?

“I don’t want to force him.” “You don’t need to. You need to be honest with him, tell him you know he’s dealing with a lot, and you want to help, but you understand why he doesn’t want to talk to you about it. That it’s okay to admit you’re not okay, because it is.” He sighed and he almost had a heart attack when her hand softly laid on top of his. How was she so warm? He was quiet for a moment, before he turned his hand and held onto hers tightly. “My ex-wife is…” He said slowly. “She, uh… She tried to kill Jacob.” “Excuse the fuck you me?” Y/N was seething. “It was the nail in the coffin. Laurie had been… We were creatures of habit, I suppose, that’s why the marriage lasted so long. I was already considering leaving, and then she drove the car into the side of a bridge with Jacob in it. They got away both relatively unscathed, but…” “I’m going to murder her. You’re a good defense attorney, right?” He smiled a little. “I don’t think I can defend you if you’ve made your intentions on murder clear.” “Damn.” She sighed. “I know he needs help; I know he bottles up… I just have no fucking clue how to reach him, Y/N.” “I’m telling you, if you would just talk to him…” She stopped talking and her eyes narrowed, looking up the stairs. “What?” He asked when her hand slipped out from his. “Something’s wrong.” She said simply, before she stood up from the table and ascended the stairs with wide strides. He frowned. How could something be wrong? He listened for a second and realized that the sounds of chatter had stopped completely from Jacob’s room. In the same second, he stood up himself and moved to go up the stairs himself, Y/N appeared again, but carrying Jacob. At first, Andy was mostly surprised at the fact that Y/N was strong enough to carry a 15-year-old who was just as tall as she was, but then he saw her face, and the way Jacob had buried his face in her shoulder.

“Can you get me ice-water, Andy?” She asked frantically. He nodded and quickly poured ice and water into a cup for her. She gently moved to the living room, where she sat down on the couch with Jacob still clinging to her frame. His shoulders were shaking. “What’s going on?” He asked, handing her the ice water. “Panic attack, I think.” She mumbled, her free hand carding through Jacob’s hair. “Listen, I need you to do two things, okay?” He nodded, his eyes on Jacob. He looked so damn small and frail in this moment. “Yeah, I…” He wanted to take over, but he was frozen. His hands felt cold. “Andrew, look at me, please.” His eyes snapped to hers. She smiled softly. “He’s going to be okay. I got him here, we’re good. Just listen to me, it’ll help him, okay?” He nodded. “Good. I need you to go get the stuffed bunny in his room.” “The stuffed… He threw that out.” She shook her head, dipping her fingers in the ice water and gently moving her cold fingers over his face. “No, he put it in his closet. Go get that for me, okay?” “Okay, yeah.” He ran. When he got to Jacob’s room, he barely had time to think over the picture, he saw on his nightstand, and went straight to the closet, searching for the bunny. He found it, and when he turned again, he saw the picture again. His heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it, and rushed down the stairs. He heard her voice before he saw them again. “Hey, Jake, you’re okay. You’re safe, okay? Just focus on the way, I’m breathing. Breathe with me, baby. You’re okay, I’m here. Your dad is here.” Andy swallowed the lump in his throat and ran to the living room, handing her the bunny. “Thank you.” Her voice was leveled, calm and soothing, and she slowly pried Jacob’s hand from her shoulder and put the bunny in it – he instantly began rubbing the matted “fur”, and it seemed to soothe him, because after a few seconds, he lifted his head from her shoulder and exhaled a shaky breath. “Good, Jake. You’re doing great. Andy, come here.” She patted the space next to her, and Andy didn’t hesitate. He sat down, wrapped an arm around her shoulders to card his fingers through Jacob’s hair, and Jacob stretched his legs out to rest on Andy’s legs. He moved his free hand to his legs, gently rubbing circles on it. “Why did you want the bunny?” He asked softly. She smiled. “Uh, textured objects like this can help ground a person having panic attacks.” He nodded. “Oh.” He looked at her. She exhaled, and Andy saw the fear in her eyes; he knew it all too well, because he felt the exact same way. “What’s the other thing, you needed me to do?” “This.” She replied. He nodded and they stayed like that for what felt like forever, silence enveloping all three of them. Despite the reason why, they were sitting like this, Harry’s House playing softly in the background (Y/N must’ve put it on at some point), he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the younger woman next to him, while also feeling something akin to… Well, he didn’t know. She felt like home, and it looked way too natural for her to sit with Jacob like this. She could be his mother, if he didn’t know them. The thought passed him as quickly as it left him, but it left a wide crater in him, because he realized that maybe he wished that she was. That he had met her, not Laurie, and had a life with song and too much food and a happy Jacob, if she was in it. Fuck.

“You want to talk about it, bubba?” She asked, when Jacob’s breathing had evened out. She bit his lip and looked to Andy, who smiled comforting. “You can say anything, Jacob. You know that.” Jacob nodded, and his fingers played with the ear of the bunny. “The game…” Jacob began, and Andy almost cried – his voice was so small, like he was embarrassed. “There was a car-crash in it. I just… Couldn’t.” Andy saw her eyes flare. “Hey, that’s okay. You’ve gone through something bad, Jacob. You can’t always control when or if these things happen.” He said, squeezing Jacob’s leg. “Listen, I think…” Jacob nodded. “I need therapy, huh?” Both Andy and Y/N nodded. “Maybe it would be good. Maybe.” Jacob said, and Y/N stroked his hair. “Jake, there’s nothing wrong with needing help to sort out your feelings. It doesn’t make you wrong.” “Y/N?” he looked up at her with big eyes. “Yeah, bubba?” “Can you stay? Like… For the night?” She looked to Andy, who nodded once. “Yeah, of course. Anything you need, Jake.” He sighed in relief and slowly got up from her lap. He suddenly looked so much younger than his 15 years. “Thanks. Dad, uh…” “I’m coming.” He stood up too, and led Jacob up the stairs, looking at Y/N. “I’ll be right back.” “Take your time.”

He helped Jacob get ready for bed and tucked him in just like he did when he was younger. It brought a strange sense of comfort to them both. “Are you okay, buddy?” Jacob nodded, hugging the bunny to his chest. “I think I just… I don’t know.” “That’s okay.” Andy kissed his forehead. “Listen, I think that we might need something else than just therapy.” “Like Y/N staying here for the rest of my life?” Andy chuckled. “I don’t know if she’d want that, buddy.” Jacob scoffed. “You’re both idiots.” “I’m going to ignore that, bud.” Andy sighed. “How about this weekend… We’ll go to the shelter, huh? Look at a dog or something?” Jacob’s eyes lit up. “What? I thought you didn’t like dogs!” Andy thought about it – he thought he didn’t. but whenever he said the words, I don’t like dogs, and I don’t want one in the house, it was Laurie’s voice echoing. “I do. I thought I didn’t, but I do.” Jacob grinned widely. “Also…” Andy grabbed the picture frame from his nightstand and held the picture out to Jacob, who blushed. “What’s this about, Jacob?” Jacob shrugged. “She fits better.” He simply said.

Andy couldn’t deny that. The family picture from a vacation in Mexico, where he, Laurie and Jacob held each other, was as he remembered it; except the fact that Laurie’s face had been covered with a cut-out polaroid of Y/N smiling widely. She did fit in better.

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krirebr · 7 days

Text

Beyond These Walls in Front of Me

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Andy brings you into a new part of your home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, training, references to punishment, isolation - 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: And here is the winner of the poll I posted last week, asking you all to help me choose the next part of this AU to work on. Of all the options, this was the one that was least fleshed out in my head, but I really like how it turned out! A quick reminder that this is an out-of-order AU, so this one is obviously after reader's first day but before Christmas.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who always tolerates me sending countless screenshots and answered my endless questions of "Is this too much? Not enough? Does it make sense??"

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! 💜

You woke up at the buzz of your wristband. Andy’s arm was slung over your side as he snuffled into your neck in his sleep. You took a moment just to breathe, to gather your strength for the day. You could afford that time, you hoped. You didn’t think it’d put you behind schedule. Then, you got up, exceedingly careful not to disturb the man who shared your bed. You had learned your lesson, there. It was time to start your morning routine.

You took a shower, and using all the products he liked, cleaned yourself thoroughly. Once you were done and dried off, you applied moisturizer to your entire body. You’d given yourself a manicure and pedicure yesterday, so your hands and feet shouldn’t need attention, but you still double-checked to make sure the polish hadn’t chipped. Then it was time for hair and makeup.

Andy liked the sort of ‘low-maintenance, natural’ look that actually took forty-five minutes so you didn’t have time to waste. You got out all your toners, primers, serums, powders, gels, stains, etc. Thank god for the wide counter and twin sinks because you needed all that room to make yourself perfect for him. You avoided looking yourself in the eye in the mirror as much as you could. You already knew what you would find there. Emptiness. You didn’t need to see it again.

Once your makeup was done and your hair was in one of his approved styles, you tiptoed into the walk-in closet that he’d left unlocked and put on the outfit he’d picked out for you last night. It was a dress. Of course, it was. It always was. You hadn’t worn pants in… well, you weren’t sure how long. Time was slippery these days.

You stepped back into the bedroom to find Andy just starting to stir. You closed your eyes for just a moment, bracing yourself, then went to his side of the bed. With a gentle hand, you brushed his hair back from his face, then placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, sir,” you cooed. Your hand traveled down from the top of his head to cup his cheek, just how he liked, and he nuzzled into it as he hummed sleepily. He didn’t open his eyes though, so you slowly pulled back your hand and made your way to the bedroom door.

You held your wristband up to the sensor and the door unlocked. You knew that if you looked back, you’d see Andy’s phone on his nightstand, lit up with the alert. So you didn’t look back.

As you walked down the hall, you couldn’t help the way you sort of held your breath as you walked past the punishment room as quickly as you could. Andy had taken to leaving its door open lately, in case you needed the reminder. You kept your eyes forward and didn’t look inside.

Once you got to the kitchen, you immediately started preparing breakfast. Andy had mentioned last night that he was in the mood for pancakes, so you got out the ingredients, along with eggs and bacon, and got to work. Breakfast was the most stressful meal to make because the timing was so delicate. Take too long and it wouldn’t be ready when he came out, which would displease him. But make things too quickly and they would just sit and get cold, which you had learned quickly also made him angry. So you kept an ear open to the bedroom and hoped for the best.

It lined up well today because just as you were stacking the last pancake on the serving plate, Andy came out and wrapped himself around your back at the stove. He was wearing sweats and a T-shirt, so it must be Saturday. That meant you’d gotten to sleep in a little this morning. How nice.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” he rumbled, in between peppering kisses down your neck.

You didn’t shrug him off. “Good morning, Sir,” you said. “Breakfast is ready.”

He made a hungry little moan into your neck. “Everything smells so fucking good. Including you.” He finally let you go, picked up the cup of coffee you had ready for him, and took his seat at the table.

When you brought the food over to him, he tilted his head up in expectation. Without grimacing, you lowered your head and kissed him. He took control, as always, with a hand on the back of your head. The most important thing was not resisting him. You’d learned that the hard way.

Once he released you, you started to move away so you could make your own breakfast (oatmeal and fresh fruit like usual), when he grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Hold on,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Your stomach dropped. No. What had you done wrong?? You’d been trying so hard to be good! You were good. You were.

You nervously glanced at him to find him looking at you curiously. He held your gaze for a moment, then commanded, “Kneel.”

You froze, for just a second. This was new. You weren’t sure where it was going. Maybe he wanted you to keep his cock warm while he ate. You could do that. You could. You could do a lot of things if it kept you out of the punishment room.

You dropped to your knees at his feet, looking up at him through your lashes and a wide smile bloomed on his face. He gently cupped your cheek with his hand and cooed, “Such a good girl.” Then he straightened his hand and tapped your cheek twice with his fingers. “Get up, sweetheart.”

You stood up, visibly confused, and let him guide you onto his lap. He just held you there for a bit, just stroking his hand up and down your arm. When he finally spoke, he said, “You’ve been so good lately. So obedient. I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been trying. How much you’ve improved.”

You didn’t need any prompting to say, “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. That’s why I think you’re ready.”

Your brows furrowed. “Ready for what, sir?”

The smile he gave you was gentle, proud. “To move upstairs with me.”

“Upstairs?” you gasped. You didn’t know how to react to that. Upstairs had always been a far-off future thing. Just do what he says so you can get upstairs had always been the mantra, but now that the time had come, what did it mean? What should you do?

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said. “Upstairs. We finally get to start our lives together.”

“I–” you started and stopped, suddenly overcome by fear. You didn’t know what was upstairs. You only knew the basement, only knew what to expect in the basement. “What do I need to do, sir?” you finally asked.

“Right now,” he said, his tone full of amusement, “why don’t you get me another cup of coffee? Then you can make yourself breakfast and when you’re done eating, clean up the kitchen. I’ll take a shower after breakfast, that should give you some time. Then I’ll bring you upstairs.”

You hated the relief you felt at knowing what to do. “Yes sir,” you said as you scrambled off his lap and headed straight to the coffee maker. Andy watched you with a satisfied grin on his face.

You turned around halfway up the stairs, Andy right behind you. “You’re sure this is ok, sir?” What if this was a trick or a test? What if he changed his mind when you got to the top and you’d be punished?

He just raised an eyebrow. “Are you second-guessing me, sweetheart?” His tone was still light, but you knew you’d messed up.

You shook your head frantically. “No! No, sir. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want.”

He brushed his fingertips down your cheek. “I know you will, sweetheart. Now, turn around and keep going.”

You did as he said and finished climbing the stairs. When you got to the top, you tried the door but it wouldn’t budge. You held your wristband up to the sensor but nothing happened. Oh god. As you started to turn around to ask him what to do, he crowded into you, pressing you into the door, covering you with his body so you couldn’t see what he was doing. But you heard the beeps of a keypad.

And then his arm wrapped around your stomach to hold you as he opened the door and he was nudging you onto the main floor.

The first thing you noticed was how bright it was. There were windows! Sunlight was streaming in. As soon as Andy let go of you, you ran to the nearest window and turned your face up into the light. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you swore you could feel the sun’s warmth through the glass. You hadn’t seen daylight in… you had no idea. You hadn’t been able to keep track of time down there, but months. It must have been months. Tears started to gather in your eyes and you tried to blink them away. He only liked it when you cried during sex or punishments, otherwise you were being manipulative. You couldn’t do anything that would rob you of this sunlight.

“Sweetheart,” he called from behind you. When you didn’t register that, he called your name, a hint of sternness sneaking into his tone. That got your attention and you looked over your shoulder. “Come here,” he said.

You pulled yourself from the window and went to stand in front of him. He put his hand on your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “Now,” he said seriously, “being upstairs comes with a lot of privileges, but it doesn’t mean you can forget all your rules, ok? Or that you’re done training. I expect you to be just as good up here as you were down there. And if we have to go back downstairs, for whatever reason, I need you to know that it will be much worse for you. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled, big and genuine and you thought briefly of how that smile would make you melt on anyone else. “You can call me Andy now, sweetheart. That’s one of the privileges I was talking about.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, the honorific so engrained in you it just tumbled out. “I mean, Andy,” you corrected yourself hurriedly, committing the new rule to memory. “Thank you, Andy.”

He cupped your cheek. “You're welcome sweetheart,” he cooed. “I am gonna miss the way you say ‘sir,’ though,” he added with a lascivious glint in his eye.

You stood as still as you could as he ran his thumb under your eye, collecting the tears that had gathered there. He looked you dead in the eye, and you couldn’t help but lower your eyes in response. “Come on,” he said, with a grin in his voice. “Let me give you a tour of the house.”

He took you into the kitchen first, of course, and immediately started extolling all its virtues, but you couldn’t hear him. And you could only see one thing. On the stove, in the middle of all the controls, was a digital clock. It read 10:37. It was the morning because of the light streaming through the windows. (There were even more in this room. There were windows everywhere.) And it was Saturday because Andy was home today and he hadn’t been home yesterday. It was 10:37 on a Saturday morning. Holy shit. Downstairs, you hadn’t had any indication of time passing other than the buzz of your wristband letting you know it was time to get up, or start a chore, or make a meal. But now, it was 10:37. And the next time you looked at it, you would know exactly how much time had passed since now. Time would mean something. You wouldn’t be adrift anymore.

You were crying. You couldn’t help it. Andy turned back to you, one hand still on one of the two stacked ovens that were built into the cabinetry as the other moved to his hip. “What’s wrong?” he asked harshly.

You shook your head urgently. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Tell me the truth, sweetheart,” he said, with that tone that said you were on your way to the quiet room, at the very least.

Your eyes darted around the kitchen frantically, trying to find an answer that would appease him. “No, it’s nothing. I’m alright. I just– It’s so much. I’m– I’m overwhelmed. I feel so much.” It was much more honest than you usually were with him, not counting the early days when you would scream what you really thought of him before you understood the consequences. But you didn’t know what else to say.

He took a few steps, closing the space between you and it took every muscle in your body to make yourself stand your ground, not flinch away. As soon as he was close enough, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Oh, honey,” he said, his tone so much gentler than before. “I know. I’m so happy to have you up here, too. This is going to be so good for us.” He just stood and held you, running a soft hand up and down your back. After a few moments, he asked, “Ready to see the rest of the house?”

You knew the correct answer, so you ducked your head and said, “Yes, Andy,” as he released you. He grabbed your hand tightly and quickly tugged you into the next room.

You absently took in the large sectional, the big TV on one of the walls, more windows, but mostly you were struck by how much bigger the living room was than its basement counterpart. You’d assumed, foolishly, apparently, that the square footage of where you’d been living roughly matched the main floor above it, but as you looked around you were sure that this floor at least doubled where you’d spent the last who knows how long. You couldn’t help the shiver that traveled through you as you wondered what else was down there.

There was a dining room and another sitting room next but you weren’t taking anything in, couldn’t describe anything about this house if pressed other than typical upscale suburban fare. It fit him. You had the sudden, chilling, thought that maybe it would fit you too someday. Soon. If you continued to become who he wanted you to be. Because you already were. As much as you’d tried to stay yourself, especially at the beginning, you felt all the ways he’d ground you down, all the ways you’d changed. You remembered how easily you’d slipped down to your knees just an hour or so before. Just because he’d told you to. You wanted to cry again, but you wouldn’t. He wouldn’t like that. And wasn’t that just all there was?

As you came upon the stairs leading to the next floor, you stopped dead in your tracks without thinking, your hand falling out of Andy’s now lax grip. The front door. It was just… right there. For anyone to use. Anyone to enter. Or exit. A thousand thoughts flew through your mind all at once. You could just run. Right now. Maybe with the element of surprise, you’d get a head start. There were hooks on the wall, and on one of them hung a set of keys, what looked like car keys with a few others. Grab them and run and maybe you could do it! But where would you go? You didn’t know this neighborhood, this town. You didn’t have anyone you could go to for help. You didn’t have any form of ID. Last you knew, Andy had all of your papers and cards locked up in his safe. And those were all the new ones he’d gotten for you. Your original identity, your real one had been destroyed. You knew. He’d made you watch him do it.

As you argued with yourself, on the verge of saying fuck it and making a run for it despite all the reasons not to, you noticed a small black sensor to the right of the doorknob, identical to the ones downstairs. The ones that your wristband would unlock only if it was an authorized time. The ones Andy controlled on his phone.

You looked up to find him already on the first stair, his gaze locked on you. Your indecision couldn’t have lasted that long. Just a few seconds, if that. But, as he stared at you, you felt like he could see every thought you’d ever had. You wanted to shrink back, maybe run down the stairs to the basement before he threw you there himself, crawl into the punishment room, and beg for mercy.

But before you could do anything, he held out his hand. “Ready to see the bedrooms?” he asked. His face was completely blank, his tone betraying nothing.

You tried to do the same, to not shake or look or sound guilty as you said, “Yes, Andy,” and took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs.

On the second floor, he brought you down the hall, bypassing several doors before pulling you into the room right at the end. It was huge, was your first thought. So much bigger than the room you’d spent the last who knows how long in. The walls were painted a light blue-gray, all the furniture – dressers and nightstands, a much darker gray. The bed was one of the biggest you’d seen, Californian King at least, maybe even Alaskan. It was covered with plush, fluffy bedding and lots of pillows, all in different shades of blue, with a light gray, stuffed, and quilted headboard resting against the wall. It all screamed luxury and relaxation. You were reminded of those home improvement shows you used to watch when you had the freedom to. They’d talk about how your bedroom should be a sanctuary, everything chosen to inspire relaxation and calmness. This was the sort of room they were talking about. You could have laughed, as all you could feel was the foreboding presence of Andy, standing by the door, watching your every move. You’d never relax in here.

You continued to explore the room, trying to act like you couldn’t feel his suffocating gaze on you. Your eyes slid over the ensuite to the two walk-in closets. You immediately noticed that there were no locks on the doors. Did that mean you’d be allowed to pick out your own clothes? And did that even matter if everything was chosen by him in the first place?

You turned back to find that he’d taken several steps closer to where you stood in the middle of the room. “I know,” he said, “that I should’ve shown you the other rooms first, but I’ve been desperate to get you inside our room, see what you look like in it.” His arms came up around you, pulling you tight to him. “You’re perfect. You fit perfectly. In this whole house. You feel it too, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Andy,” you said by rote, but you did feel it. You knew exactly what he meant. You fit perfectly, just like the nightstands, or the couch downstairs, all the tables and chairs. Just another piece of furniture that he picked out specifically to make his home perfect.

His hand came up under your chin, tilting your face so that you had to make eye contact. “I’m so happy I bought you,” his words chilled you as he went out of his way to remind you of your place here. “You were worth every penny.”

You closed your eyes for the shortest moment, letting yourself feel the horror. Then you opened them, met his gaze, and said, “Thank you, Andy.”

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@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki

#dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber #defending jacob #basement wife au #dark fic #dark!fic #fanfic #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #kris wrote something #reader insert

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sarahowritesostucky · 5 months

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|| Masterlist || Ao3 || Kofi || Until the Snow Melts ||

New! Click here to join my tag lists by fic genre preference!

Welcome to my blog! I'm Sarah, your friendly local pervert author. Be kind, stay weird, re-blog, and enjoy!

My Masterlist of deplorable smutty fanfiction

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♀️, straight, "she/her," American

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I write Stucky, EvanStan, Chris Evans characters, SebStan characters, and reader insert fanfiction.

I reblog tons of fanart and other Marvel and MCU fan content.

I also write erotic fiction e-books under the penname L.T. Swann (available for purchase starting Oct. 2024!)

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original characters: Bohdana "Bo" Harding, Lucas Dearbourne, Verne Dearbourne (neé Thibodeaux)

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buckets-and-trees · 8 days

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Prepare For Takeoff

Title: Prepare For Takeoff Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, dubious existing engagement

Logistical Notes: Another piece early in the days of the I'm Your Man AU.

Author Note: I started this AU when I was at an airport, and my recent trip had me thinking of these two again, and it had me wishing I were Andy's to spoil.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

While you aren’t used to being chauffeured to every aspect of your life (nor did you want to get used to it, the driver and vehicle yet another element that Andy insisted on in the new life he inserted you into), you know a security checkpoint where your driver had to stop and speak to someone else is not part of the typical route back to the palatial Barber Estate. You sit up straighter in your seat, looking first to the men in the front, but neither of them give anything away, your bodyguard Shep’s face is the same stoic expression as ever, and your driver Mark only glances into the rear view mirror to meet your eyes briefly.

Your brows furrow and you look out the window. You can only see large white buildings on either side of the SUV, and the overwhelmingly industrial feel has you at a loss for guessing the where and why of your location.

That is until you reach the end of the building and the car pulls around the corner. Now you see these large white industrial walls make up the sides of a row of aircraft hangars. While your jaw doesn’t drop, your mouth opens slightly. The jaw dropping moments as a character in the life of Andy Barber are so frequent, but you are starting to control your reactions a bit more.

The SUV pulls up smoothly to the side of a private jet, sleek and black, the late afternoon sun shining off its metal sides. Mark stops the vehicle, and as Shep opens your door, you are not surprised to see you are stepping out exactly onto a long, blue carpet that leads from the SUV to the bottom of a set of white stairs. At the top of them, Andy emerges from the plane, nodding to you. You smooth down the front of your clothing and glare up at him.

“What is this?” You call up loudly.

“You know what it is.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away for the weekend. Now, don’t be difficult, sweetheart, you’re going to love this.”

You feel a sting in your eyes but quickly blink it away.

You hate this because you know he is right.

Yet again he will undoubtedly give you exactly what you want and go beyond what you could even imagine for it, but because he wants to, not because you want any of it.

That is the constant curse in this relationship.

Everything you want, but all your choices stolen from you before you can make them.

You concentrate on taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase, mustering the strength that you will need for this. You have to armor yourself against his charm and his cunning. Every moment with him is dangerous.

“I thought it was time to take you away, make you forget the everyday. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”

You blink, open your mouth, then shut it again. He is the source of the stress, but you don’t trust what would happen if you said that.

He smirks, then sweeps you into a kiss that immediately sends tingles all through your body, from where his lips press insistently against yours, tongue teasing into your mouth, to the hand he plants possessively onto you hip and the other on your back, pressing you flush against him, down to your toes, legs feeling unstable as he takes your breath away. You are helpless but to cling to his shoulders and kiss him back, because your traitorous body willingly surrenders to him, damn near craves him.

He finally lets you breathe again when you tap against his chest and turn your head, gasping for air.

He kisses your cheek, then your neck just beneath your ear.

Getting your breath back, you give a small huff. “So, what? I don’t even get to pack? You just have whatever I need for the flight and when we get wherever we’re going, I’ll just arrive to a closet full of new clothes and accessories?”

“Naturally.” You can feel his smirk against your skin for a moment before he bites at your delicate flesh.

“This is insane.” You push away from him and step through the open door of the jet.

“It’s not insane,” he says, stalking close behind you.

The interior of the plane is sleek, minimal, but the flavor of the furniture and decor evoke the same feeling as the common spaces of his estate with lush leather and dark wood.

The fact that there’s furniture…

“It’s not normal.”

Hand to your back, Andy ushers you further into the plane. “You’re never going to be subjected to normal again in your life.”

“But what if I liked normal?”

He sits on a leather loveseat and pulls you down immediately next to him, nearly in his lap. He counters, “You liked needing to get to the airport early, check your bags or haul them through security with your three-ounces-or-less limit on liquids, take off your shoes, and trek through the terminals to your gate?”

You sigh and look straight ahead.

He chuckles and beckons over a gentleman who offers a tray of drinks.

“Bourbon or champagne?”

“Thank you,” Andy says, and takes a glass of the dark bourbon.

“No, thank you,” you decline.

“The captain says we are clear for take off on your word, Mr. Barber.”

Andy nods. “Wheels up then. We’ll take dinner in ninety minutes. You can leave us until that point.”

“Call if you need anything, sir.”

You hear the click of a door as the man disappears. Andy takes a slow drink, then presses the glass to your lips, forcing you to take a sip before he sets the glass aside.

You feel the jet begin to move and then turn toward the runway.

“You deserve more than normal,” Andy says, eyes on you, returning to your conversation from moments before.

“Andy…” you hedge.

“I will whisk you away anywhere in the world. I’ll give you everything you want. You’re mine to spoil. You’re going to live a beautiful life with me.”

“Andy,” you start again, but unsure how to counter.

He growls your name and yanks you abruptly into his lap. He cuts any argument you were about to launch into by biting at your lower lip and grinding you down onto his hard bulge.

You whimper and throw your head back.

Andy assaults your bared neck with heated kisses. He knows he’ll have you a pliant mess for him to slake his lust in a matter of moments.

You know it, too.

And you know he’ll overwhelm you with pleasure of your own, never a selfish lover even though every other bit of him is selfish.

His fingers slip under the fabric covering your core without hesitation, and he strokes your labia, gathering more and more of your arousal as the plane picks up speed. Slow strokes back and forth, back and forth. The pad of his forefinger circles your clit and you bite back a whimper.

“Mmm, you know I love those noises you make.” He circles your bundle of nerves again, this time with his thumb, letting two of his fingers dip just slightly into your slick channel. “Give me what I want,” he coos, coaxing with another circle, and another, and you finally break, moaning openly for him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me know how good I make you feel.”

He pumps his fingers full into the knuckle now, and not like anyone else you’d ever been with intimately before. It’s only been a few weeks, but Andy has taken every opportunity to become a master of your body and coax and command pleasure out of every inch of you. He knows just how much pressure to apply when fucking you with his fingers, and he pushes into that spongy spot at the front of you walls insistently, repeatedly as the jet leaves the ground, making you cry out and shake on an abrupt orgasm.

You sink forward, hanging your head on his shoulder, but it’s only the first orgasm he plans to ply from your body on this flight. He draws your left hand to his mouth, and hums as he places a kiss first against the band of your engagement ring on your finger and then into your palm, before trailing his lips to your wrist. He eases you down to the floor, and you lay back and watch as he shucks off his pants above you before descending down to sheath himself inside you next, demanding more.

And as he fucks you there, then on another of the chairs, then takes you back to the sleeping quarters for yet more, you bend to his will and his demands and his lust, overcome with everything he is and everything he makes you feel, lost in the complexity of what he’s confined you into. His spoiled and ruined sweetheart.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #mafia au #chris evans characters #soft dark andy barber #I'm your man #aspen wrote something

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