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#chris evans defending jacob
babyjakes · 4 months
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | sex shop
pairing | sex shop owner!andy barber x innocent!reader
warnings | age gap (reader sees andy as a total dilf.) reader is very innocent and also so scared to be there (understandably.) soft!andy, comforting vibes, he talks her through everything. humiliation kink is strong in this one. no real smut, just suggestive themes (sex shop, toys, talks of solo and guided masturbation.)
word count | 987
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an | this little story is dedicated to andy's #1 girl, @worksby-d 🥺 dest i super hope you enjoy our favorite dilf here!! i tried to make him the big warm teddy bear we know and love, with a little hint of naughtiness shining through at the end hehe <3 happy holidays to you friend!!
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imagine going to a sex shop for the very first time, aalllll by yourself, and meeting a very handsome dilf who helps you pick out your very first big girl toy 😏
parking as far away as possible (it’s at the end of a little strip mall in a tiny little town you’ve never been to before, you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone you knew!) spending like 10 minutes just sitting in your car hyping yourself up, you’re so nervous but you’ve wanted to do this for so long 🥺
eventually you build up your courage and make your way up the parking lot, to the front door of the place. a little silvery bell rings as you enter. you’re surprised at how clean and neat the place is. you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is better than you had been hoping. it’s not too big, a single large room with a counter in the middle. at first glance, you're alone, no other customers or employees in sight
the store has different sections with hanging signs directing you where to go. you can feel heat rising in your cheeks as you pass the racks of lingerie and intimates. just as you make it over to the toys for her section, you hear something from across the little shop. looking over, you see someone has entered through a doorway in the back. a man, but you don’t get too long of a look. your eyes quickly drop to the ground as you feel your embarrassment worsening
please don’t come over here. please don’t come over here. please don’t-
your silent prayers are ignored as footsteps approach. you take a step back from the wall of products, forcing yourself to look up at the stranger. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him, oh god, you’re thinking to yourself, why is he hot 😭
there andy stands in all of his glory, the epitome of dilfy deliciousness with his worn navy t-shirt and scruffy beard. scratching his head a bit awkwardly, he greets you, “hey, sorry. didn’t meant to startle you. can i help you find anything?”
your heart’s pounding in your throat as you look around stupidly before your eyes return to the absolute unit of a man before you. you blink like a deer in the headlights. oh my god. he works here, you’re a little slow to put things together
andy sees your surprise, letting out a gentle chuckle. “i’m the owner,” he explains. “you okay, honey? you look like you’ve seen a ghost”
a part of you knows this is an extremely sketchy situation. you’re alone in a sex shop with a dude probably twice your age (who apparently owns the place), out in a town you can’t remember the name of, with nothing to defend yourself except your two bare hands (which are now shaking)
but there’s something about the man before you that you just find so… warm? disarming? (…attractive? 😳) the gentle smile on his face, the way he softens his voice when he senses your nervousness...
you’re a little ball of conflicting feelings, half nerves and half head-over-heels for this unknown man. again, you blink, unable to find your voice to respond
“you’re alright, just take it easy,” he tries to help you relax. “this your first time in a place like this?” all you can manage is a nod. he gives you an understanding smile, “that’s perfectly fine. i’m here to help. can you tell me what you’re looking for, sweetheart?”
your eyes glance quickly back at the wall of toys in front of you before returning to him. he must see the increasing humiliation on your face. “u-um…” you’re finally able to stutter, “i-i don’t… i’m not… i guess i'm…”
he’s so patient and attentive it’s only making the butterflies in your tummy worse 😭 “not sure where to start?” he finishes for you. when you nod, he hums thoughtfully, “that’s okay, honey. do you have anything already that you like? is this for you to use on your own?"
you grit your teeth, nodding through the waves of embarrassment. “d-don’t have anything, sir. looking for something to start out with”
“i see,” he nods, looking over the selection on the wall before the two of you. “a bullet is a great beginner toy. simple, quiet, different levels of intensity to fit your needs. do you like clitoral stimulation?”
you have to fight yourself to keep from rubbing your thighs together right then and there 😩 something about the way he’s talking you through everything is sooo 🥲🥲 a feeling of dread hits as you realize you’re already getting wet
you force out a nod. he looks at a few options before picking out a small, discreet box. offering it to you, he explains, “this one’s my favorite. it’s nice and smooth, hard to hurt yourself with. rechargeable, medical-grade silicon. six levels of intensity. and the pink matches your nails,” he says sweetly, nodding at the shiny polish on the tips of your fingers
you clumsily accept the box, looking it over briefly. “there are instructions on the inside. the internet can be helpful too,” he suggests. the burning in your tummy worsens as he sees right through you, sniffing your complete innocence and inexperience with ease
“o-okay. this looks good. thank you,” you agree
“of course,” he nods with a sheepish smile. “once you get comfortable with that, we can work you up to something more sophisticated” you never implied that you’d be returning to him, but now that he’s said it, you know you couldn’t refuse. “and if you have any trouble, you can always come see me. i got a room in the back, we can take some time and find what works for you”
i might have to write that follow-up visit someday this is making me 🫠🫠
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beyondthefold · 5 months
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CHRIS EVANS as ANDY BARBER Defending Jacob S01E01 "Pilot"
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barneswilsonrogers · 1 year
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"We wanted him to look like an everyday professional man who has a family, so we tried really hard to make the clothes feel real and lived-in, not overtly tailored." — Defending Jacob’s costume designer Johanna Argan on making sure Chris Evans didn’t look like Captain America.
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flordeamatista · 7 months
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THE DEVIL
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pairing: dbf!andy barber x reader
concept: The lure of temptation, seduction, and lust he offered filled your head ecstatically.
word count: 1k
warnings: sex tape + corruption kink + pussy slapping, nicknames: (Angel)
a/n: The devil card depicts intense sexual desire and physical attraction.The Devil is the gateway into the future kinks.
THE WITCHING HOUR ──── KINKTOBER'23
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masterlist
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The lure of temptation, seduction, and lust he offered filled your head ecstatically.
Your wings were scattered at your feet as you stood rigidly in his home office.
His radiant blue eyes met yours with a languid gaze, making you feel heat prickling beneath your skin. He swept his eyes up and down your body, and his hands slowly moved over your curves. “I wonder if your parents are looking for you,” lifting you onto his lap with one arm while the other braces against your chest.
A hand slapped your pussy as it dug through your naked form, exploring every inch of it.
"The party gets drunk downstairs, but my touch will make your pussy drunk here." When your head fell back against him, his hot breath heated up in your ear. He grinned into your neck while biting your skin. “So desperate to be touched, aren’t you?”
You closed your eyes and wondered if it was all a dream or if reality had tricked you. The Halloween party had already begun earlier that evening, and you’re almost naked on his lap, wearing only your angelic halo. 
Your body vibrates in anticipation as you sit on the devil’s lap, with your once pure angel wings lying on the ground.
An inferno looms to consume you whole when the spark within you ignites.
Your heart surrenders to his touch, allowing yourself to be influenced by the promise of pleasure and the unknown.
There is an electrifying quality of being around him, but it is also terrifying; you know it is dangerous territory, but you can’t help feeling drawn in by his dark charisma. His midnight blue eyes promise a night of sensuality and debauchery beyond your wildest dreams.
You’re helpless as he whispers softly and tastefully, and you’re beckoned into the unknown by his sinful dirge. 
A tingling sensation runs down your spine when you catch sight of his gaze.
There is something dangerous about your attraction to him, and what will happen if you comply with him?
While you appear angelic, his aura is testing you into darkness.
A knowing smirk curls his lips as he stares at you as if he knows exactly who you are and what you want.
He pulled out his phone from his pocket and swiped it until the camera was on.
His right hand was poised over the phone while his left touched your body. He spoke low and velvet-smooth, saying, “I want this recorded proof that even angels can moan for devils.” Taking your lips in a passionate kiss, he traced circles across your skin, generating sweltering heat.
With a smile, he roars like a devouring demon, and his firm contours blend perfectly with my angelic features.
When you both pulled apart, you saw his eyes blazing with desire. With each slap of his palm, a fire ignited within you, threatening to burn out of control.
“Show me how the devil can make pretty angels moan. Aren't you my pretty angel?.”
Deep, slow breaths push warmth into the air.
“You like that, don’t you?” His warm slaps glide across your clitoris, and he holds the phone close to your pussy.
As he taps your clit each time, pain and pleasure wash over you simultaneously. You need his fingers in your clit for him to release the orgasm and touch, so a slap does not suffice.
It feels like he might slip his fingers inside, but he slaps it away, leaving the breeze to cool the air.
In a warm embrace, his finger traces shapes around your pussy. A gentle tickle alternates with a firm slap that makes your hips jerk. Every time you shudder, you are slapped harder. 
You muffle a small moan against your palm as your body burns and your eyes tighten. 
His dark and menacing voice whispers in your ear. The phone moves closer to your face. You feel your body quiver as he punctuates the words with more intense pussy slaps. “Such a good angel.” 
There were no words between you as you walked forward and kissed the fiery.
Every step brought profound relief that swallowed light and sound.
The only force you could understand was a burning desire to be with him, but you could neither understand nor resist it.
There is no escaping the devil when the night is dark and your heart is led by him.
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krirebr · 2 months
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Caught Up in Your Trap
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Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.
Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.
Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 
He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.
“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”
“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”
Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”
The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”
They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.
The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 
Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.
Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 
Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”
Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”
“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.
Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.
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This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.
The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.
Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 
The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.
He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.
Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.
You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 
You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”
He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”
This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”
He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 
Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”
He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”
That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.
“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”
Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.
He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”
You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.
He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.
“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”
You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 
He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”
You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.
The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.
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You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.
You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 
Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.
“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 
You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 
Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.
Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.
He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”
“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.
“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”
You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 
“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”
What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.
Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.
“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  
“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.
“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”
He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”
He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”
You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”
He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 
You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 
When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 
When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 
As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.
After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”
God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 
He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”
You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.
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Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?
You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 
And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.
You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”
Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”
His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”
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Tag list is open
@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid
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lilacevans · 2 years
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↬ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒓 (39/??)
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shadeysprings · 5 months
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Eyes of the Devil
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—Boss!Andy Barber x Assistant!F!Reader
Summary — Happiness blinds you from the horror that looms around the corner.
Warnings — noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, forced oral (m receiving), betrayal, blackmailing, cumshot to the face and implied kidnapping if you squint. Mean!Andy is present.
Word Count — 2.7K
A/N — My first entry for @thebasementspouses The 12 Men of Christmas Writing Challenge. This is also the first time I'm writing for Andy. And honestly it was hard yet fun ^^ Should you expect more Andy from me in the future? Fuck yeah.
Shoutout to my betas by @vellicore and @lunarbuck. But all mistakes are mine alone.
Gif by @barneswilsonrogers
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️
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Once again, you’re burning the midnight oil.
With the holidays fast approaching, Dolores in accounting has you working double time on filing the pending paperwork that needs to be audited before the year ends. Even so, it’s work you don’t mind—you have nowhere to be and no one to see, your cubicle serving as a fortress, your home away from home. 
“Aren’t you heading out yet?” You look up from your computer to see Mr. Barber smiling down at you, his coat hanging from his arm where the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up his elbows. He already looks run down from the day’s work, yet he still manages to be chipper. 
“Just finishing up on some tasks, Mr. Barber.” You respond with a smile. “I’ll get going as soon as I’m done.”
“Is that the year end report?”
You nod and hold back the sigh that wants to escape. “Dolores doesn’t want to wait until the last minute to finish it so she’s asking for the report 3 weeks in advance.”
“Seems a bit early, don’t you think?” You think he’s talking to you, but his eyes are cast down, his lips twisted in thought. He must have forgotten that he approved her early leave, yet you don’t find it in you to correct him. “Well, you take it easy then. I wouldn’t want you getting too worked up over it.” Your boss says, concern laced in his voice. “Just finish what you can. And if there is anything I can help you with, you just say the word.”
“Don’t worry, Sir. I have everything I need—just have to double check then compile them before sending them off to her.” The assurance you give seems to placate him, and you feel a sense of joy that you see him about to take off. 
Not that you don’t enjoy talking to your boss; he’s the only one, aside from the other department heads, you interact with on a daily basis. But he’s still the CEO, and you can’t help but think about his rank and see him as a superior, even in an informal setting. 
“Very well. I’ll leave you to it.” He says, the smile once more present on his lips. But before he leaves, he adds, “Oh, before I forget,” Mr. Barber places a festive paper bag on top of your desk, one you failed to notice him holding when he passed by your desk. “Merry Christmas.”
A gift. Something you never expected to receive from your boss.
“Oh, you didn’t have to bother, Sir.” You tell him as you stare at the bag in awe. A plain white box is nestled between the sheets of pink and purple paper when you peek inside.
“It’s really no trouble. Just a little something I picked up from my overseas trip last week.” He explains, the smile on his face seemingly growing wider, more playful, something you’ve never seen on him before. “I hope you like it.”
You return his smile. “I’m sure I would, Sir. Thank you.” 
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A snow globe. That’s what Mr. Barber gave you. 
But it isn’t just any snow globe, no. It is a limited edition collectible of your favorite cartoon character. You don’t even know how he got his hands on one, with it being sold out within minutes of being released, or how he even knew it was your favorite—probably from the small figurines you keep on your desk—but you feel elated just by looking at it. 
You examine it with excited hands, curious at the button that sits underneath the base. They never advertised it as something electronic. You press the button, and to your surprise, a soft melody plays as the faux snow within blows on its own, making it even more magical than you thought it to be. A tiny blue light at the chest of the character begins  blinking along with the tune, a squeal of glee leaving your lips. 
It has you thinking of buying him a really good present, one of equal value to the one he’s given.
With a smile, you stow away the packaging and set the snow globe on the shelf where you keep the rest of your collection. This one, though, has a special place at the center of all the others, the star of the show as it should be.
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You stare at your computer in shock. 
The image of you naked in bed, one hand on your tit, and the other grasping a toy with the other end buried in your cunt with your face twisted in pleasure. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you immediately close the image, looking around to see if anyone witnessed it as well. But no one resides on this side of the floor aside from you and Mr. Barber.
Panic rises in your throat as you try to think who sent it to you. But most importantly, how they got such a picture of you in the privacy of your own home. 
Your computer pings once more, and your stomach turns when you see the same unknown email address pop up from the corner of your screen. You don’t dare open it, too afraid of its contents. Instead, you delete it, even empty out the trash all the same to completely purge it from existence. 
Beads of sweat form at your nape, the beating of your heart growing heavier by the second as the fear continues to bloom in your chest. What do they want? Why are they doing this to me? The thoughts swirl in your head, and all you can think about after is going home to hide. But you can’t; they’ve made it known to you that the place that should be the safest no longer is. They only have footage of you in your room, but it isn’t certain that they don’t have eyes in other parts of your apartment.
“Do you have a moment?”
Mr. Barber’s voice startles you, making you sit up straight  in your seat and look up at him with wide eyes. The smile on his face dwindles and turns into a curious frown, most likely recognizing the trepidation painted on yours.
“Is something wrong?” He asks, worry laced in his voice. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Uhh—yes, Sir. I just—I think my breakfast isn’t sitting well in my stomach.” You lie, but you’d rather let your boss know that you’re about to shit your pants than telling him the truth.
“Maybe some soda would help? Or I think Angie in HR has some medicine you can take.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll figure it out.” You tell him, forcing a smile to hopefully stop him from prying any further. “Did you need help with something?”
As if remembering what he came to you for, he says, “Ah, yes. I actually do.” Pulling away from your cubicle, he adds, “I made some changes to my itinerary for my business trip—I was hoping to run them by you.” But there’s still apprehension visible around him as he makes his request known. “Do you have time to come to my office? Or do you want to grab some fresh air first?” 
You want to say yes, to deal with your anonymous harasser head-on, but deep down, you know you can’t. The fear would only grip you tighter and render you useless for the entire day, and the last thing you want is to show your boss an ounce of incompetence and a chance for him to ask what’s running in your head. 
“No.” You respond, already standing from your seat. “I can step out after our discussion.” Grabbing the folder you compiled for his trip and snatching your notepad from your desk, you follow him back to his office.
Work will help you take your mind off of things.
“Lock the door, please.” Mr. Barber instructs, and you do as you’re told. “If you can just take note of the new arrangements I made.” You step over to the side of his desk, taking the sheet of paper he holds out to you.
Yet shock grips you once more when you look down at it, your hands shaking as the sheet he gave you has the image that was sent to you earlier printed on it.
“You—”
“You scream and I’ll send it to the entire office.” Mr. Barber says, his concern from earlier is now gone and replaced with something vile as he looks up at you from where he’s seated. “So be a good girl and kneel.”
You don’t understand what’s happening. How did he get a hold of this picture? Was he sent the same email? Has your harasser already done the unthinkable, and your boss is using it to his advantage? Unless—
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Sweetheart.” From the way he says it, you know it’s a threat, and the one he said earlier circles in your head that you quickly obey, placing the folders in your hands atop his desk and getting down on your knees. You watch him with fear as he rolls his chair closer, trapping you between his thick thighs.
“Sir, what’s g—”
“Did I say you could speak?” Mr. Barber scolds, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing you to look up at him, his sapphire eyes looking darker than you recall. “You do what I say when I say and that includes talking, am I clear?” His words weigh heavy in the air, and you can do nothing but nod your head in agreement. “Good girl. We don’t want the entire company receiving such a scandalous Christmas present, do we?”
You shake your head, too afraid to speak, knowing he hasn’t permitted you to do so. 
A sinister smirk forms on his lips, and you keep your eyes on the button of his white shirt when he releases your face. You swallow thickly in fear, already knowing what comes next, what he would have you do as his hands fumble with the buckle of his belt and the zip of his pants. 
He groans low, the sound, although soft, echoing loudly in your ear when he pulls his cock free of its confines. It’s already stiff from what you can see, with precum beading at the tip. You shiver when he places a hand on your shoulder, fingers tapping, caressing the fabric of your chiffon blouse before he wraps them around the back of your neck.
“If you can fuck yourself with that toy, I’m sure you know how to suck a cock.” He utters, his other hand taking his length and tapping the tip gently against your lips. “Think of this as a performance review. You please me well enough, I might just give you a raise.” It’s a challenge, one you know you have no way of winning.
With shaky hands, you take his cock from him and stroke it a few times. Fear envelops you, the small space he’s trapped you in rendering you claustrophobic that you feel the pounding of your chest right at your ears. Slowly, you part your lips and wrap them around the tip, disgust rolling in your stomach as the pad of your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. 
But all of a sudden, he pushes your head down, forcing you to take the entirety of his cock. Tears pool in your eyes when he hits the barrier of your throat, choking around him. You try to pull away, doing your best to breathe through your nose while you push a hand against his stomach and the other slapping onto his thigh. 
You want to pull away, to spit him out and endure the humiliation of having your colleagues see the vulgar image, but Mr. Barber—no! He deserves no respect! But Andy is being forceful, keeping his hand around your nape and holding you down longer. Until finally, he lets go, and you gasp for air as you pull him away from your mouth, spit dripping while you cough profusely from the roughness he’s bestowed.
“Come on, Sweetheart,” He says between chuckles, taking you by the back of your head this time and pushing you back between his thighs. “We’re just getting started.”
He doesn’t even give you enough time to recover from his assault when he drives his cock back into your mouth, the saliva gathered at your tongue serving as lubricant, one he uses to his advantage as he pilots your head up and down against him. 
His groans of pleasure fill the expanse of his office, mixed with your muffled grunts of revulsion and torment. Though you do nothing to fight back, afraid of the consequences you’ll suffer if you do and choose to endure his depravity, to allow him to use you as he so desires.
“Did you like my gift?” He says between shaky breaths. “I knew it was perfect.” 
The snow globe! But why?! Why is he doing this to you?!
Shutting your eyes tight, you do your best to shut him out, to think of someone else, someone from your past who’s receiving the lustful deed of your mouth. But the way he says your name, the ways his voice continues to permeate your senses, makes it all too difficult. That it’s only Andy you feel, Andy who controls. 
Tears stream down your face when he takes hold of your face with both his hands. Instead of guiding your head the way he wishes, he fucks your mouth with reckless thrusts. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you after I saw you playing with yourself.” He says between grunts. “Couldn’t stop thinking of what else you could do.” Once, twice, several more times, the tip of his cock hits your throat. You stop yourself from gagging, staying strong to please him and deciding to pleasure him, hollowing your cheeks and caressing the veins of his cock with your tongue. 
If he finishes soon, your torment will be done as well. 
Placing your hands over his, you move to your own volition—much to his surprise when you hear the grunt from his chest and the way he frees you from his hold. You take more of him, all of him, one hand reaching to caress his balls while the other strokes what you no longer fit in your mouth. You even moan for added effect to make him believe that you enjoy what he’s thrust you into and that you share in his pleasure—one you can confirm when you feel him throb between your lips.
But once again, he surprises you, gasping when he pushes you off of him, yet his hand returns to the back of your neck, keeping you in place. 
“Open your mouth. Eyes on me.” He commands, and you do as you are told. Sapphires look down on you, even darker than before, and you hang your tongue like a dog while he takes his cock tight in his hand and strokes himself fast. Within seconds, he lets out a garbled grunt, and you close your eyes in horror when hot strings of white shoot out of him and paint your lips as well as your cheeks.
You’re crying once again, confusion swirling in your head. He played you for a fool—infiltrated the safety of your home without even so much as trying, because you let him in. But you fail to understand why. Why he’s treating you this way, why he even thought about treating you like this. 
You think he’s done when he leans back in his seat and loosens his hold on himself. But that’s far from it. Andy chuckles, deep and dark, pressing the tip against his come and smears it over your lips, pushing it once more into your mouth. 
“Swallow.” Another command. “Suck me clean.”
And you do. The warmth of his seed scalding your throat, and you fight the bile that rises in return.
“I already booked your holiday leave,” Andy says breathily with a sinister grin, his thumb rubbing at the back of your neck.
You look at him with wide, fearful and curious eyes. What? Holiday leave? But you never booked one. 
His laughter then fills your ears, seemingly sensing your distress. “It’s the changes to my business trip—you’ll be accompanying me.” He answers, slipping his cock out and taking your chin, rubbing his thumb against your lower lip that’s still sticky with his come. “I need all the time I could get to see if your cunt feels as great as your mouth.”
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paperweight91 · 4 months
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It Went a Little Like This
Summary: All Andy really wants is his happily ever after, is that too much to ask?
Pairing: Andy Barber x reader
W/C: 2850
Warnings: Dark!Andy Barber, allusions to non-con/dub-con, stalking, Andy’s lost it guys.
A/N: Okay, since I sent @krirebr the FMK and she killed the dark!one, I thought it only fair to share the story about why that one was soooo dark. Moodboard by @krirebr , dividers by @firefly-graphics. Please send all the feedback on this one, it’s much darker than I think I’ve ever written, and I’d love to know what everyone thinks! Comments and reblogs feed my soul ❤️
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The convenience store around the corner from your house always had these little handmade knick knacks that you loved. You were surprised the first time you found a little handmade porcelain dog to add to your collection. After talking to the cashier you found out they bought locally made art once a week to give the artists exposure. You had fallen so irrevocably in love with that cute little pup you made it your mission to return once a week to find more.
As you perused the latest inventory, you saw a figure down the aisle. Looking up you recognized the man instantly, Andy Barber. His family had been spread across all the local news feeds for a year. You had always felt bad for him, going through the trial for his son, his ex-wife’s mental break. It was all so much for one person. You gave him a small shy smile and bowed your head as you tried to decide between the spotted Dalmatian or the cuddly looking pug.
Weighing both cute little creatures in your hands, you almost dropped them as Andy approached. “Cute.” He said reaching over you to pick up a Saint Bernard with its tongue lolling out. “You collect these?” His tone was inquisitive if a little confused.
You brightened at his interest, feeling your face heat slightly in embarrassment. “The store buys them from local artists to help get them exposure. And look how cute they are!” You held the Dalmatian in your hand up higher for him to inspect.
He chuckled at your eager response stroking a single long finger across the back of the dog. The action was innocent, but it sent something thrumming straight to your core. “You have many of these?” He quirked a brow at you.
“A few, I’ve never really collected anything before but I come back every week for these.” You smiled brightly up at him. A broad grin spread across his face, your enthusiasm clearly rubbing off on him.
He placed the Saint Bernard back on the rack, his eyes tracing each cute little face until finally he landed on a golden retriever playing in grass. “Thanks for the tip.” He reached out and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze before turning to head to the cash. “The dalmation’s the winner.” He tossed casually over his shoulder.
You let out a snort, going back to the two pups held lovingly in your hands. Finding more and more he was right, with a sigh you gently placed the pug back with its companions and made your way to the cash yourself.
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The following week found you back in the artist aisle of the convenience store. This time Andy found you almost immediately. You were frowning at this weeks selection. Frogs. Who collects frogs?
“Nothing to take home today?” He smiled as he approached.
You grimaced as you looked at the faces. Sure they were kind of cute, but you just didn’t get it. “Frogs. They’ve never had them before.” You tried to pick your words carefully. They weren’t terrible, just not for you.
Andy laughed as your face twisted into a frown. “Come look over here, they’re not porcelain but you might like these better.” He clasped your hand in his and pulled you down the aisle. There were glass pups of several different varieties. You tried to suppress your excitement at his find, finding yourself bobbing up and down on your toes, your fingers itching to grab at them. He chuckled and released your hand and you eagerly grabbed two. Needing to inspect them up close.
After a few moments of silence you finally came back to yourself. You felt your body heat from your toes to your face at your childish reaction, in front of a stranger no less! You cleared your throat awkwardly and introduced yourself, juggling the glass pups carefully so you could extend your hand to Andy.
A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes twinkled in the low light of the store. The wrinkles that lined his eyes seemed to smooth at your own warmth. “Andy.” He said taking your offered hand in his own and pumping it up and down a few times. You found yourself drowning in the blue depths of his eyes. The beard that lined his face twitching up as he noticed your clear distraction at his looks.
It took you a moment to realize you were still holding his hand, and staring at him dreamily. You shook your head to clear your thoughts, it was inappropriate more than anything. “Sorry,” You mumbled, diverting your gaze to the glass puppies in your hand.
Andy stroked the back of your hand still clasped in his with the back of his thumb once before letting go. He gave you a wry smile, “Nothing to be sorry for, I’m glad I could help.” He placed his hands in his jeans pockets and scanned the shelves. “I’m not much for these, but seeing how happy they make you, I may become a convert.” He winked and ducked his head down, like he was embarrassed at the statement. You were sure you saw a bit of pink tinge his cheeks before he did.
“Thank you Andy, really! Although,” You hummed as you surveyed the precious puppies, “I really should cut back on these. I think I’m running out of space.”
He huffed out a laugh, “Maybe you should come back next week and see if they’ve got the porcelain ones back.”
You nodded, but seemingly like he could sense your reluctance, he plucked a beautiful small Labrador from the shelf. “Maybe just a small one?”
When you looked up you saw what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. You laughed and placed the others back on the shelf. “I think a small one couldn’t hurt.” You reached to pull the lab from his hand, “Let me.” He said.
You gave him a befuddled look. “Andy, I can’t let you buy this for me. You just learned my name!” A look flashed through his eyes so fast, you almost missed it. Ire at your casual rebuff. Taking a step back you shook your head, all mirth leaving your face.
Seeing your unease he immediately sprung into action, “I’m sorry.” He handed you the small glass pup and placed his hands on his hips. “I didn’t mean to. Ugh, I’m screwing this all up.” He brought both hands up and scrubbed them down his face. When his fingertips were at his chin and you could see his eyes again you saw regret and something else swimming in the blue pools. “What are you screwing up?” You reached out and placed a hand on his bicep, feeling the tightly coiled muscle loosen at your touch.
“I saw you here, a few weeks ago. I’ve been, after everything, I just.” He hung his head and gave a mirthless laugh, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to flirt or any of this and I’m suddenly realizing I’m quite terrible at it.”
“Oh…OH!” You suddenly realized that Andy, was not at all as interested in the small figurines you had been excitedly showing him the other day, he had been interested in you. “Oh I’m sorry Andy. I didn’t mean to, I uh, I actually have a boyfriend.”
You felt the air between the two of you change, like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. Andy’s arm flexed underneath your fingers. He searched your face and let out a sigh, “Can’t blame a guy for trying, right?” His free hand came up and removed yours from his arm. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day, I’m…I’m gonna go.” His shoulders slumped as he curled in on himself, turning and exiting the aisle, and the store, before you could even respond.
Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the exchange. How had your day gone so weird? You shakily released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, trying to expel the tension from your muscles. Something about the whole exchange with Andy had set you on edge. It’s what made you lie about a boyfriend that didn’t exist. Shaking your head for what felt like the millionth time today, you placed the cute little glass Labrador back on the shelf and made you way to the exit of the store. You vowed not to return for a while, let you both cool off a bit before another accidental run in.
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Two weeks. It had been two weeks since your awkward exchange with Andy and you were itching to go back to the convenience store. You weren’t sure what it was about those cute little figures that had completely taken over your heart, but you knew you had to go see if they had gotten any dogs back in stock. You tried to distract yourself with chores, and movies, but you were so restless you could barely focus on one task for more than a couple minutes at a time.
You snarled at your reflection as you passed the mirror in your entranceway for the umpteenth time. Pulling on your jacket and boots before you even realized what you were doing. It was ridiculous really. It’s a store, lots of people go to stores. And so what if Andy was there, he was probably too embarrassed by your rejection to come back anyways.
Nodding to yourself in the mirror, you grabbed your purse and made your way down to the road. It was surprisingly warm for the time of year so you decided to walk to the convenience store. Silently berating yourself as you walked for letting a man, you didn’t know, throw you completely out of whack over nothing. He hadn’t even been that bad! He just seemed awkward, and you immediately rejected him without a second thought.
So completely in your own head, you didn’t even notice the silent figure approaching you from behind. Your pace was slow enough that they easily caught up, and pulled you into an alley off the road before you could even squeak. They placed a gloved hand over your mouth, but it didn’t matter, you were in too much shock to scream. You felt a prick in your neck before everything slowly went dark, and your limbs went slack.
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Your eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused. You couldn’t remember anything, and your head felt like it was full of cotton wool. Something was wrong, but you weren’t quite sure what. You brought your hand up to rub at your eyes, and heard a low murmur from your right. “There she is, how are you feeling, sweet girl?” You froze at the voice, you knew that voice. You struggled to place it, but you felt strong arms pull you back into a warm broad chest. It felt nice.
Soft hands stroked along your sides, before lacing through your own. You felt the scrape of a beard on the back of your neck as he nuzzled into you. “I was worried honey, you slept for so long. Are you back with me now?”
You felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on you, your brain finally caught up to what was going on. The alley, the prick in your neck, Andy had taken you. Before you could stop yourself you began to shake. Terrified of what the man whose grip on you had gone from soft to iron could actually do to you.
“Don’t be scared honey, you’re okay.” His voice held an edge, but there was a roughness to it as well, one you were all too familiar with. “Just be good for me. Be my good girl okay?”
It was posed a question but you could see it for the threat it was. Be my good girl, or else. You knew you had to tread carefully if you were going to get out of this. “Andy, what’s going on?”
He sighed and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Honey, good girls don’t ask questions. I know this is new for both of us. It’ll take us some time to get used to it. Just let me take care of everything.” He let go of one of your hands to turn your face to him by your chin. Bringing his own face close enough so his breath whispered out against your lips. “I haven’t figured out all the rules yet, but we can do it together, okay? Now are you gonna be my good girl?”
His eyes held a darkness, the one you had seen flash through them at the store a few short weeks ago. Your voice seemed lodged in your throat, and only breathy little whimpers seemed to escape. You could feel the tears building in your eyes and fluttered them closed as you nodded your acquiescence. You just needed to buy yourself some time.
You felt his lips twitch into a grin against yours. “Good girl.” He whispered before kissing you. At his praise you were surprised to find yourself getting aroused. You rubbed your thighs together as surreptitiously as you could. Andy licked into your mouth as his hand traveled down to the hem of the dress you were wearing. He bunched it up above your hips and gently traced his index finger up and down your thighs. You shivered, and bit your bottom lip, trying to contain your reaction to his soft touches.
“You need to relax, honey. Why don’t you let me help you?” You could hear the smirk in his words and he got up from behind you. He gently laid you on the bed and hovered above you. He stretched himself like a cat before leaning in to kiss you again. This time you gave in immediately, searching out access to his mouth. His kisses were intoxicating.
He gently cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb soothingly stroking. You brought both your hands up to his shoulders, before settling by being gently clasped around his neck. His beard scratched your cheeks as he kissed you, a feeling you found somewhat unpleasant as you weren’t used to it at all. You whined into his mouth, and he slowly pulled away.
“That’s it honey,” he had mistaken your whine as one of pleasure and not pain. “Just let me take care of you, you’re being so good for me.” He trailed kisses down your neck and buried his face there. Your eyes darted around the room, looking for something, anything that could help you.
Andy pulled on the buttons at the front of your dress, opening enough to expose your chest. You inwardly cursed at your choice of a front clasping bra. Looking up at him with big tear filled eyes you brought one hand to his cheek and drew his gaze from your chest. “Andy, I don’t know. I’m scared.”
He shushed you and pulled you to his chest. “No honey, no. Don’t be scared, there’s nothing to worry about okay? I’ve known from the moment I saw you how perfect you are. So sweet, so beautiful. I knew, honey. Don’t you trust me?”
He pulled away so he could rest his forehead against yours. You saw nothing but truth in his eyes. Still you felt the tears leak from your eyes and a sob lodge in your throat, scared your tears would bring his anger back.
“Shhh honey, it’s okay. Why don’t we wait, huh? It’s been a big day for both of us. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.” With that he extricated himself from your grasp and went over to the dresser. He pulled a silk nightie from the drawer and sleep pants for himself. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.”
You nodded stiffly, and with Andy’s help took to your feet. You stripped out of your dress, feeling Andy’s eyes on you the entire time. Chancing a glance up at him you saw the steel return to his eyes as your hand twitched towards the nightie. Sighing you unclasped your bra and tossed it in the hamper, you pulled your panties down and stepped out of them, tossing them as well.
From your peripheral you saw Andy nod, and took that as permission to put on the nightie. It was short, but felt like heaven on. You climbed back into the bed as Andy swapped his jeans, t-shirt and boxer briefs for his sleep pants. You turned on your side facing the wall. Hoping he would fall asleep quickly.
He cuddled up behind you, pulling you tight against his chest again. One hand settled across your stomach, the other he wedged underneath your head. He slotted his leg between yours and sighed, truly content. “You’ll see honey, we’re going to be amazing together. I promise.”
You nodded and quietly let your tears flow freely, staring at the porcelain Saint Bernard sitting on the bedside table. Accepting that for now at least, you were the property of Andy Barber.
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babyjakes · 5 months
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | massage
pairing | massage therapist!andy barber x reader
warnings | andy’s soooo soft and sweet <3. err, some sort of violation of massage therapy ethics lol. me kind of not knowing how a massage works. my shameless hand kink. fingering. praising/encouragement. squirting. he cleans her up after :)
word count | 897
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an | big thankyou to @starksbabie for letting me ask weird questions about massage practices lol. sorry if this still didn’t seem realistic, i’ve never had a massage before 😭
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okay but 😳 getting a massage from andy? 😏
he’s a professional ofc!! recommended to you by a friend who’s noticed how tense and stressed you’ve been lately. “he’s the best, those hands are magic!”
he’s got a little private office built off of his home. he greets you when you arrive, guiding you back into the private room with the table. “go ahead and undress for me, honey. hop up and lay on your back when you’re ready; you can cover yourself with the sheet if you like.” he gives you a few minutes of privacy to let you do as he instructed. all you can think about is how handsome he is 🥲 your friend should’ve warned you this guy’s a total dilf lol
he comes back in and dims the lights, making his outline just barely visible against the few dull lamps stationed around the room. washes his hands at the sink in the corner before coming to stand at your side, pumping some oil onto his large hands. he can see you’re trembling a little 🥺
“easy sweetheart, just relax. i’ll be gentle, i promise.” his voice is so soothing and warm, it’s hard not to trust him
he starts things out innocent enough, moving the sheet and working your calves and around your knees. murmuring soothing words as he notes your jumpiness, “deep breaths, good.” “that feel okay?” “a little tight here, honey. let’s see if we can help with that-” his hands are so strong yet gentle 💕
he gradually works his way up to your thighs. the outsides first, then the tops. you try your best to fight off any inappropriate thoughts or feelings, but there’s just something about his dark figure towering over you, his massive hands, his low, soothing voice…
“gonna open up your legs a bit, princess. you’ve got some tightness here,” you jump as his long fingers are trailing to the insides of your thighs. he opens them just a few inches at first, guiding your knees to fall apart. you’re glad the room is so dark; you’re sure you’re making the most humiliating faces at this point 🥲 he works at your sore inner thighs as you try to ignore the fact that your bare pussy is now on display for his trained eyes and hands
he makes his way up to the tender space where your legs meet your groin. a whimper escapes your lips, heat rushing to your cheeks
he pauses. “sweetheart.” his voice is so dangerously low, with just a hint of tentativeness. he takes a deep breath, exhaling audibly before continuing. “i wanna help you, baby. will you let me?” his hands are guiding your knees further apart, hooking them over each side of the table to let your calves dangle down towards the floor.
you close your eyes, trying not to let your voice tremble as you give a soft, “mhm,” nodding your head. it’s all the answer he needs
he pumps some more oil onto his hands, warming them gently for a few moments before returning to the side of the table. you can just barely see his form leaning down a bit to get as good of a view as he can. his hands are careful as they land on either side of your needy cunt. you don’t get to see the smile spreading across his face as he catches a glimpse of your wetness, shining subtly in the darkness
he uses one large hand to part your pussy lips, the other dragging a few fingers up through your puddle. he hums in approval as your body jerks sensitively. he strokes the pads of his fingers broadly over your clit for a few moments, paying attention to how your body responds. when your knees shake and your little feet kick gently, he moves to press two fingers up into your soaking hole as the others continue on your burning button
“keep breathing for me, baby. that feel good?” you offer a mumbled confirmation, your head nodding almost desperately as his strong digits stretch you out. the sensation of fullness almost does you in alone- and then he starts pumping his fingers into you, curling them ever-so-slightly up to reach your sweet spot
you let out some mixture between a moan and a cry, your hips bucking up instinctively to match his pace. “good, that’s good, honey. keep going for me, that’s it…” he forces your mound back with his fingers, swirling his thumb quicker over your hardened nub. “come on, baby. give it to me, almost there…”
you come right on his fingers with a string of jumbled cries. “goood,” he croons, keeping up his pace to coax your orgasm out of you. he smiles as he feels you squirting out against his hands before things finally begin to ease up
he slows to a gentle stop, reaching for a towel with one hand as he continues stroking your inner thigh with the other. after wiping off the mess you made from his fingers, he gently moves to find something to clean you off with, turning the lights up a little to make the room more visible
“feeling better?” he asks when he returns to your side. you just nod pathetically, a sweet look of humiliation settling on your face as he gets to cleaning you up 😌
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jadedvibes · 1 year
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to be his wife 🥰
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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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barneswilsonrogers · 6 months
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Andy discovers Jacob has a knife. Defending Jacob 1x01 - Pilot
480 notes · View notes
flordeamatista · 2 years
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𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚
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pairing:  soft dark!professor andy barber x reader
concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap , edging, fingering,  fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited,  power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)
a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.
the cute gif and moodboard made by me
line divider: @s-tarksintern
lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming
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Masterlist
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His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire
After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.
As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you. 
It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.
Now, who do you break your rules for?
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"Professor Barber..."
You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.
"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.
You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded.  Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.
Your email glared back at you, taunting you :
Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.
 The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.
Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.
You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow  staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.
Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.
A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart. 
As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.
In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into  yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email." 
Nervously, you swallowed.
How could you be so stupid to send him that email?
It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.
"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."
The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs. 
You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”
You paused.
Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"
It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.
"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.
You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when  it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt. 
"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.
Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel  the wetness that was his.
"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."
You lost control from the  the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed  that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman. 
"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.
Was this an exam of desire?
"You are such a-"
Your insult cut short by a harsh slap. 
The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire. 
"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.
But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.
The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.
"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter. 
Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."
Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send”  The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.
You are sober but drunk with desire.  His desire. His attention.
You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.
A man who just needed you.
With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.
"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.
In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.
His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body
"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled  his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"
You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him. 
Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.
“Professor…”
"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"
“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat. 
You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.
“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.
A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.
“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."
You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy. 
Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.
"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the neck to stand straight.
“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.” 
You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut
Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.
Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.
Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat. 
You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.
Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.
Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your head, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair. 
He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping  around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.
The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.
The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down  on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.
"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"
He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy. 
His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.
“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end. 
You knew his game of seduction.
You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.
“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.
The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.
“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut
The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.
“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”
“Please…” you begged.
"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"
Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.
He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.
Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.
It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop." 
Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "
It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.". 
Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.
"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.
A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?" 
You couldn’t answer him.  You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.
Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.
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The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on. 
You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.
To know what is his, he needs to see it.
In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.
Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.
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krirebr · 4 months
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I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas
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Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader
Word Count: ~1k
Summary: Andy gives you an early Christmas present. Why aren't you happier about it?
Warnings: Dark elements, threats of punishment, implied punishment, it's dark fic but mostly by implication. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: This is for @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge. The prompts I used, from the Naughty list, were 23. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.” 12. “Smile pretty for me.” and 19. “No one else is gonna take care of you like I do.” Thank you for the fun challenge, Navy and Roo!
This was my first time writing for Andy, aside from his brief appearance in Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire, the winner of this poll. Big thanks to @paperweight91 for helping me figure out my take on him. This is basically just a long drabble, but I hope you all enjoy it!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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You sat stiffly on the loveseat as Andy rummaged around under the tree. You pulled at the hem of your black, sparkly cocktail dress. It was much shorter than you were comfortable with, but you were used to that now—your comfort not mattering. 
He made a noise of triumph and stood up tall, coming back to sit next to you on the couch. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package. “I know it’s a bit early, but I wanted you to open this one before we go to the party. Merry Christmas!”
You’d been dreading his office’s holiday party all week. All those people judging you, all those opportunities to mess up. You took the package and quietly said, “Thank you.” 
He chuckled, lightly. “You haven’t even opened it yet. Go on.”
As you carefully unwrapped the gift, your fingers trembled, uncovering a medium-sized square jewelry box. You took a deep breath, girding yourself before you opened it. Inside was a delicate silver chain with a pendant that spelled AB in elegant script. It took a moment for your brain to catch up, looking up at him as your confusion gave way to dawning horror. 
“I want everyone to know who you belong to,” he said, so softly, so sweetly. It was almost like he hadn’t just given you his brand. “Now is when you say thank you, sweetheart.” His tone was still gentle, but his eyes had started to take on that hard glint you were so terrified of.
“Thank you, Andy,” you whispered. 
He smiled, his eyes softening again. “You’re so welcome, honey. Now, turn around so I can put it on you,” he said as he took the box from you. You did as you were told and turned to face the other way. He draped the necklace across your chest and fastened it behind you. His hands ghosted over the back of your neck and you suppressed a shiver. “There. Turn back around now.” You did and he gave you an appraising look. “Smile pretty for me, baby.”
You gave what you were sure was a strained, brittle smile, but he still hummed in satisfaction. 
“Absolutely gorgeous.” His hand moved up to brush your cheek and you couldn’t help but flinch away from him. You regretted it immediately, but no matter what you told yourself, how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop your body from being afraid of his touch. 
He sighed, exasperated, and turned away from you. “I don’t understand why you insist on treating me like the bad guy,” he said, dejected.
Because you are the bad guy, you thought to yourself, but you were smart enough this time to not say it. You’d finally learned that lesson. “I’m sorry,” you said, reaching for his hand, but he pulled away.
“If you were sorry, you’d stop being so ungrateful! No one else is gonna take care of you like I do.”
 You nodded quickly. You needed to placate him and do it now. “I know! You take such good care of me. I know that.”
He stood up and turned on you with his hands on his hips. “Do you know that? Because you don’t show it. It’s not how you act. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”
The way he loomed over you made you want to cower, but you did your best to control your body. That would only make things worse. You had no idea how to respond. Another apology would only make him more angry.
He looked at you expectantly, but at your silence, he just sighed again, running a hand over his beard. “Maybe we need to continue this conversation downstairs.”
You sprang up at that and threw yourself at his feet. Not that. Anything but that. “Please, no, I’m sorry, I’ll be better. Please, no. We don’t need to go downstairs.”
He bent over to grab your arms and lift you off your knees. “That’s good,” he said softly, back to being gentle with you. “I don’t want to go down there, either. You know I don’t. I just want you to be good for me. Don’t you want this Christmas to be better than Thanksgiving?” It took everything in you not to grimace. You still felt the marks from what he’d done to you after Thanksgiving dinner. At the memory, you couldn’t help but go weak in his arms, letting him hold you, taking any comfort you could get. “I just want to have a perfect Christmas with you, sweetheart, show you how much I love you. I need you to stop resisting it.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, the words falling out of you, too scared to think of anything else. You blinked back your tears, not wanting to ruin your mascara or get his dress shirt wet. He wouldn’t take kindly to being late to the party after all this.
He rubbed a gentle hand down your back. “Shhh,” he cooed. “You’re ok, you’re fine.” After another moment, he pulled away from you, looking you up and down. “Now,” he said, “take a deep breath and get yourself together. We’re going to go to the party and have a nice time, aren’t we?” You nodded, hurriedly. “Then when we get home, you can show me exactly how sorry you are, how grateful you are. Good?”
“Yes, Andy,” you said, quietly. You couldn’t make your voice get any louder. 
He stepped back into your space and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. He kissed you slowly, languidly. You let him. You had to. You matched his movements with your lips as much as you could, but he never cared too much how passionate the kiss was on your end as long as you didn’t resist him. As long as he was in control. He pulled back and stroked his thumb down your cheek. This time you didn’t flinch away. “That’s right. There’s my good girl. Come on, go touch up your lipstick. We don’t want to be late.”  
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Tag lists are open
@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling
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Chris Evans Character Art Cards
Steve Rogers - The Avengers/Captain America Movies
Curtis Everett - Snowpiercer
Lloyd Hansen - The Gray Man
Andy Barber - Defending Jacob
— do not repost
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reveluving · 6 months
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if the skirt fits ; andy barber x reader
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summary: Andy finds a little secret of yours.
warnings: heavily implied s~mut; costume kink (minors DNI!), familial fluff & mild humour!
a/n: you don't know how happy I am for finally sharing this piece with y'all, considering how it has been collecting dust in my drafts since LAST YEAR, but here it is; one of my earliest ideas for the series! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!
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“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” ;
"You could dress up as Jason?" You suggested what might’ve been the seventh costume idea since the drive home from dinner at the Thai restaurant nearby. 
"Done that." Jacob replied as he leaned forward from his seat to talk to you and his father.
"Spiderman?" 
"I feel like everyone's dressing up as Spiderman this year." 
"But not everyone's going to dress up as the same one." You had a point, considering how you and his dad were the first victims of his Spiderverse fixation since the second movie was released, so you knew what you were talking about.
"I guess,” Jacob thought for a moment before falling back in his seat, taking your idea into consideration, “I guess I just want something… different." 
"If you want different, then we could get you one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes on the internet." Andy held a playful look even as his eyes remained on the road.
"Very funny, dad." His son grumbled, despite fighting back his own smile.
"Aw, cheer up, Jake. You've got time." You reassured him. 
“Yeah… And I’m not too worried. The store next to Aunt Sarah’s bakery got some cool stuff when I bought last year’s costume,” Jacob mused before asking you, "What about you, mom? Have you thought of a costume yet?" 
Ah, mom. Even after all this time, you and Andy will never get tired of him calling you that.
"Mmm, not yet. But when I do, I'll make sure you're the first to know." You and Jacob shared a smile in the rear-view mirror, only to be interrupted by Andy clearing his throat.
"Uh, you're gonna tell him first and not me?" He cocked his head, feigning disbelief.
"Of course. You lost that privilege when you suggested Jake the dinosaur costume." You and Jacob laughed as Andy dramatically groaned, telling you ‘I didn’t mean it’ in an angsty teenager tone.
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"I am not dressing up Ken." Andy answered, removing his watch and leaving it on the vanity table.
"Oh, c'mon, Cowboy Barber has a nice ring to it." You said with a lilt. 
"And where exactly am I going to find a Western shirt in my size?" He quirked an eyebrow at you.
"We could always ask the Flags. Her husband might have one hidden somewhere."
"Just because we've seen him with a cowboy hat last Halloween?" He remembered seeing him wearing one during the community party at the park.
"You'd never know. Barbie and Ken are safer than your recommendation." You opened the closet without taking your accusatory eyes off him.
"What's wrong with a devil and an angel?" 
"Andy." Surely he could tell how ridiculous he sounded. 
"It's… easy…? And you'd look really good in it." He tried to persuade you, standing next to you.
"At a party full of kids?" You weren't sure how the parents that were a little more… conservative would feel about their kids' teacher dressing up like that.
"I didn't say it was for Wilson's party. It's for our afterparty," He wiggled his brows, "Just you and me while Jake stays over at the Wilson's." 
You snorted. How cheesy of him.
"Wilson's party first, then whatever you want after," You turned back to the hanging clothes, "And besides, you should be the devil, not me." 
That wasn't a no.
"You know what," He pursed his lips, already considering your idea—especially with the black suit he knew you'd melt over, plus a red tie before dodging the swat of your hand with a laugh. Just then, he noticed you'd been searching for something for a while, unbuttoning his cuffs and folding his sleeves before asking, “Need some help?”
“I can’t find my panties. The baby blue ones.” You frowned.
“The one with the lace?” He asked, prompting you to nod, “I mean, as much as I love seeing you in those, you know I don’t mind you without any in the first place.”
“Nice try, Barber," You narrowed your eyes at him, gesturing to the drawers in front of him before you rummaged through the pile of folded clothes on the bottom rack, “Help me search the drawers, please.”
He did as he was told, looking through the first stack before moving on to the next.
There was little progress in your searches but your curiosity was only piqued when out of the corner of your eye, Andy was looking closely at something.
“Did you find it?”
He took a quick breath before answering, “No, but I did find something better.” 
You furrowed your brows, standing up to ask what he meant by that until you caught sight of the familiar skirt he held.
Plaid, grey and extremely short.
Uh oh.
You clasped your hands together in front of your tummy as you stared at the microskirt with wide eyes. You were even failing to notice him slowly breaking into a smirk. He didn’t stop there, reaching into the drawer he was looking into with his other hand to take out the matching tie. Your lips parted, darting your eyes between the article of clothing and the smug look on his face.
“I can explain,” You finally spoke up, your voice softer than you hoped for.
“Please, do,” He held the ends of the untied tie with both hands, “Because I’m pretty sure these are too small to be mine.”
Oh, he was going to have some fun with this.
“Well, it’s, y’know,” You moved your hands around, only to silently plea for him to understand without having you say it, “Andy, c’mon. You know what it is.”
It wasn’t enough for him, though, raising his brows and encouraging you to continue. 
He was clearly enjoying this. A whole lot. 
Unbelievable.
“It’s my old costume.”
He hummed, appraising the garment as he immediately imagined what you would look like in it, “So my pretty girl has a dirty secret of her own. Did you break any necks when you pranced around the neighbourhood in this?” 
“In my defence, I only wore that once, when I was in college, so,” You corrected him, recalling the party you attended in your final year. 
“So, you broke college boys’ necks.” 
“I didn’t say that,” You shook your head in amusement, “I just didn’t have the heart to give it away. It was just one of those rare times where I truly enjoyed living in the city.” 
Though the city wasn’t far from Reve Road, and hell, you’ve even thought about moving back once or twice in your earlier days, truthfully, you haven’t been there in ages, and thank goodness, too. What would life be like if you hadn’t stayed, made a name in the peaceful neighbourhood and met the Barbers?
"Do you miss it?" 
"Sometimes," You mustered a small smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes, "But I had my fun. Grew up to be a city girl, earned my degree and let out my ‘wilder’ side a couple of times. But I love it here more, and if I want to keep my job, the last thing my students and my son need to see when they go trick-or-treating is their Literature teacher in this." 
You shared a hearty laugh. Your wonders about who or what you could’ve been if you stayed in the city were nothing more than a mere curiosity, and even then, it hardly mattered to you now.
“Wouldn’t hurt to relive the old days here in our room.” Oh?
"You can't be serious," You chuckled nervously, "It might not even fit." 
You were lying—you barely looked any different from your college years. You just weren’t sure if you were ready to see his reaction over such scandalous attire.
"All the more reason to try it," He replied confidently, closing the gap between the two of you. His voice deepened as he whispered, "C’mon. You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?" 
Like the gentleman he was, he used your weakness against you.
You knew you were done for when you gulped under his intense stare, cocking his head in the bathroom’s direction. 
You snatched the garments out of his grasp, the ‘deathly’ glare on your face contrasted with his conceited one as you obtained the shirt that came with it out of the same drawer. He continued to hold your gaze even as you closed the door.
Once you were alone, you couldn’t help but let out a silent scream.
You were too embarrassed to even face the mirror as you got dressed, not until you slid on the last piece—the skirt before turning around to look at yourself. You could barely acknowledge the coincidence of covering your face with your hands like a bumbling schoolgirl.
Because that was exactly what you looked like.
You remembered washing the set a couple of times after your first and only wear, and even then, you didn’t think the skirt could shrink that little. Your ass was hanging out of the hem, offering an ample peek at the black bikini brief you had taken with you. 
You came out of the bathroom, ignoring the warmth spreading through your body as you were met with Andy sitting at his side of the bed, shamelessly displaying the prominent tent bulging in his pants.
He hummed in approval before beckoning you to his lap, "Come here." 
You kept your gaze on the ground as you walked over to him, standing in between his legs.
"Come here." He repeated, this time, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he tapped his knee.
You let out the softest whimper, your arms encircling his neck before straddling one of his thick thighs. He rested his hands on your hips, only to run them up and down your body, watching your face already contorting between bashfulness and desire.
“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” 
He pulled you closer, bouncing his knee to rub against your clothed sex. Electricity coursed through your body over the not-so-innocent move, your breathing growing heavier by the second as he teased you further.
“But you haven’t answered my question yet. Did they or did they not stare at you when you wore this?”
He rendered you speechless. You were beginning to think your heart might burst out of your chest at any point. 
“I’m sure they did,” A part of him wanted to be annoyed but miffed was a better way to put it. Not at you, though, he could never. You were just trying to have fun and make the most out of what life had to offer. But if he was there to see you in this the first time you had it, likely showing your wilder side, oh, he couldn’t lie and say you wouldn’t catch his eye either. 
“But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” His hands slid past the hem, lifting it for him to drink in the sight of your curves, “It’s just you and me now.”
You dropped your head on his shoulder, hoping to stifle the moan that threatened to slip past your lips.
“Just imagine me bending you over the bed so I can get a peak of what’s mine underneath,” He sighed dreamily, smiling when your ass jiggled as he grabbed at and squeezed them, “Or should I throw you on the bed and have you on your knees?”
You didn’t answer, too focused on the way he groped your body until you jumped at the resounding crack and the sting that came with it on your left cheek.
"Does it come with thigh highs?" He asked ever so casually as if he wasn’t straining to have you just as much as you were him.
"I-It did, but… I kinda lost it." 
"That's fine. I can always get you a new one," He nosed your jaw, "In fact, I'll buy you more than just a pair. Maybe match some with your panties." 
You mewled, raising your head and granting him access to your neck. 
“You'd do everything your favourite professor tells you to do, wouldn’t you?” 
Fuck.
“Andy, I–” You nearly called him Professor Barber when the sounds of knocking on your door caused you and your husband to freeze up.
"Mom, dad,” It was Jacob, “I think Beemo's been collecting… socks under the couch?" 
Like a fish out of water, your mind was too blank to respond or even acknowledge the question. Thankfully, Andy was able to do it for you, “We’ll be right there!”
The two of you waited until his footsteps receded before you were able to let out a sigh of relief. Andy, on the other hand, had the audacity to chuckle at you. There was no reason for you to worry about scarring Jacob since Andy had already locked the door.
“Very funny.” You murmured sarcastically, moving off him and loosening the tie, hoping to ignore the ache in between your legs for the time being.
“Hilarious,” He cockily added, standing up with an almost pained groan. He stood behind you before wrapping his arms around your waist, “But this isn’t over.”
You stopped.
“I meant what I said about buying you thigh highs with it. Or better yet, some fishnets because my wife’s not so innocent after all.”
Despite getting cockblocked, he was immensely satisfied to see you shiver.
‘Beemo, are you collecting underwear too?’ You heard Jacob ask the cat incredulously, only for a ‘wait!’, followed by his footsteps going down the stairs, probably chasing the feline with whoever’s briefs or undies he had in his mouth. You could only hope it wasn’t yours.
“And, that’s our cue,” His shoulders slumped, only to growl in your ear, “Wear this for me tomorrow after dinner.” 
He then released you with a big smooch on your cheek, exiting the room to find his son, but not before winking at you.
Leaving you to wonder on your own if he’d throw you on the bed or have you on his lap tomorrow.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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» a/n: now is a good time to say; no, I have yet to come back to the series, but I was too stoked about this event and thought 'hey, this should be the best time!'
» consider it as a mini compensation! but I do want to thank you for still sticking around, just know 'future mrs barber' is nowhere near discontinuing! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
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