Whatever It Takes
Pairing: Dark!Andy Barber X Fem!Reader X Dark!Steve Rogers
Word Count: 1k+
Warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, non-con, rape, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, vaginal sex, explicit language, explicit sexual activity, manipulation (please add another warning if I miss something)
DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
A/N: An entry for @stargazingfangirl18 5K Soft Dark Challenge. I never write explicit smut and dark fics, I'm sorry if my writing is confusing. Dialogue prompts in bold. Divider by @firefly-graphics
18+ Below the CUT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
“Morning, doll. What’s up with that frown?”. Steve stretched after getting up from the bed. He looked at you in the mirror. “Aren’t you excited to go back to work?”
“Yeah. I am. It’s just Monday, ya know?”
Steve kissed your temple and wished you good luck. Then, he went downstairs to make you breakfast. How could you be so lucky to have him as your husband. He is the nicest and sweetest person you ever met. He always promises you to keep you safe from any harm. But he cannot save you from Andy Barber.
How can you tell him? Your workplace has become hell for you since you were assigned working with Andy. He is known as a reputable DA, respectable man with a cute little perfect family. Little that people know, he also likes to give you “extra treatment” in his office. You wish you could tell your husband, Steve, what he had done to you. But you feel like you are cheating on him. Besides, Andy is also Steve’s best friend. There is no way Steve is going to believe in such story.
You make sure to arrive at the office late. You do not want to spend dreadful minutes trapped in a room only with Andy. It must be your lucky day. Looking over, Andy is not at his desk, nor his bag found on the table. Standing on his desk, you peak at his calendar. It is full of appointments, but not today. He supposed to be here at this hour. You never wish for something bad happen to people. Maybe just today, you hope he gets sick badly.
“Miss me?”, a deep voice greeted you from the door. You freeze. His heavy steps get closer to you. You jolt when his arms snake around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder and nibbles behind your ear. “You smell good today. No! I’m sorry, you smell good every day.”
You shiver at his praise, goosebumps spread all over your body. “Th – thank you Mr. Barber”.
“You never learn, don’t you”, he tsked. “What should you call me, sweetheart?”
“Good girl”, he praised you. “Now, bend over.”
You have no choice but comply. You bend over his table, eyes looking at the ring on your hand. Tears roll down your cheek as you remember how you could do this while your husband patiently waiting for you at home. His hands roaming around your body, exploring every curves as you sob quietly. Then, he lifts your skirt until you could feel the cold air in your bare thighs. One of his hand travels to your upper body and plays with your breast. The other hand playfully circles your clit. His actions make a burning sensation inside you. You do not even realize that you are soaking wet.
“So wet already. You’re good sweetheart”. He pulls down your panties and stops for a second, taking a view of your wet cunt.
“Andy, please don’t.”, you interrupted.
“Big mistake, sweetheart”. He slapped your ass. “What did you call me?”.
He steps closer. You could feel his bulge as he leans closer to you. He puts his hand along your jaw and moves your chin to face him. “I repeat, what did you call me?”.
“I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t want this.”
He lets out a heartless laugh. “Your body tells otherwise, sweetheart.”
You are silently cursing at yourself. This is not what you wanted, yet you could feel warmth dripping down your thighs as his fingers toy with your clit. Without a warning, he shoves two fingers inside you. You whimper and moan. It takes him a short time to find your spot and hit it couple of time. His thumb is still circling your clit harder. The tension is building up in your core. Your whole body is trembling. He knows you are close, so he quickens his tempo. Minutes later, you come undone.
He pulls out his finger and licks it clean. You are catching your breath and trying to stand on your wobbly legs.
“Not yet, sweetheart”, another hard slap landed on your ass. His hand grabs the back of your neck and forces you to bend over again.
You could hear the metal of his belt drop on the floor, along with his pants. Knowing what will happen, you brace yourself and do not dare to look. Just like you predicted, he forces his cock enter your slit. Without warning, he grabs your waist hard and pumps you mercilessly. His hands will leave a bruise on your waist later on.
“So tight and wet”. He keeps pumping hard and fast. The sound of skin slapping echoes in this room. “You know how much I miss this cunt. I can’t stop thinking about you when I pounded Laurie this morning. That slut is always hungry with my cock. You should be grateful I give it to you right now.”
You cannot feel more guilty after this. Not only you betray your husband, but you also betray Laurie. You promise not to give him satisfaction as you hold your moan, but his thrusts become harder and harder. Your nails scrape the cold table, your eyes roll back, and a loud cry escapes your mouth. Your whole body is convulsing, and your walls tighten as you come hard. Andy could feel you milking his cock. His movement gets messier as he is close to his release. The next thing you know, his warm seed filling you up and some of it drips down your thighs.
You sob uncontrollably as you drive home. You know Steve is away around this time, meeting his friend. There is no need for you to hide your cry. As soon as you reach home, you jump into the shower, cleaning yourself. You scrub hard, hoping it would erase Andy’s trace around your skin. You could not even see clearly as your tears cannot stop blurring your vision.
You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, bruises on your body and puffy eyes. You just wish Steve does not notice when he goes back. When he does, you pretend to fall asleep on your bed.
“Doll, are you okay?”, Steve asked you with concerned voice. He saw your puffy eyes even when you are asleep. “Have you been crying?”
You open your eyes and force a smile, “I’m okay”.
He sits down next to you and puts his hand around your shoulder. “You know, you are bad at lying.”
The tears roll again. This time you cannot put a smile anymore. You do not even know how to tell Steve about it. You just hug him, burry your head in his chest, and cry hard.
“I’m just tired from working, that’s all.”
“You know, you can always stop working anytime”. He soothed you. “I get paid enough for our family. You don’t have to work hard, you know that.”
“I guess you right.”
“I got a job!”, you scream loudly as you received call from the DA office. Finally, a dream came true. Having a job and earned your own money was really your goal.
But Steve had different plan for you. He dialed a number as soon as he heard that news.
“That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”
“I don’t care. You do whatever you want to do, Andy.”
“Fine. Glad having this conversation with you, Steve.”
Steve grinned. He finally found a way to make his obedient little wife stayed at home. Whatever it takes.
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Are you really going to do stepdad Steve or are you teasing us cuz I’m not ready for that 🥺🥺 and can I ask how he’s going to be different from stepdad Andy. 🥺🥺♥️
Yall really lovin on the step daddies here 😂 I am indeed considering writing a stepdad Steve, but there’s some wips I have that I want to get out of the way first, I will try and get working on it soon though.
If I’m being honest I’ve never had inspiration strike like it did for Stepdad Andy. I banged that out in one sitting and it just flowed like nothing I’ve ever written before. It was like I was on crack lol. But since then I think I’ve got a very detailed and specific dynamic between the reader and him.
With stepdad Andy, him and the reader aren’t really very openly affectionate, even though she loves him now in that weird way. Their dynamic is very playful and always teasing, and they take jabs at each other all day long. They have terrible communication because of just how they started off and so Andy kinda needs to figure out when the reader is upset or angry. I feel like Andy is very nurturing and soft once she starts being compliant with him and they’ve found this pleasant calm living with each other.
I think stepdad Steve is waay less soft and much more dark. He comes off as very manipulative and abusive and it takes the reader much much longer to trust and love him. But I think he takes pity on her and he probably makes her cry a lot so he gets a chance to cuddle her and make her feel better because that’s literally the only time she’s happy to see him lol.
He also definitely bumps off her mom because he can’t stand her.
I think when the snap happens he thinks she’s gone but she really isn’t so when she gets back they’re kinda stuck together and he takes her like everywhere and never lets her out of his sight.
I think character wise they’re both dark and manipulative but Andy is much softer and I think that’s why he’s far more calculating and devious. I think Steve is much more violent and unhinged and he probably eventually learns she’s not going to love him if he doesn’t keep her happy.
As for the readers I feel like in andys she’s very fragile and has a lot of trauma so she overlooks a lot of the things he does and develops and codependency towards him. She’s much more loving and trusting and sort of blinded by him because she gradually gets manipulated.
I think in Steve’s she’s much more resilient to his abuse and even though she probably still has mommy issues (I don’t think any stepdad stories work without that aspect) she’s much more aware of him and has more experience than andys reader so it takes her a while but she eventually gives into him.
I hope this answered you and gave you more insight. ♥️ thanks nonnie.
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Vacation AU (Andy Barber)
Andy is a typical dad so a vacay is no vacay
no he bought a whole ass cabin to fix up
and you can hold the nails while he does the hammering
I wish that was a euphemism but Andy likes to work
but he also has surprises
like breakfast in bed
which results in orange juice down your pajamas
but the real fun is in cleaning up
and hikes through the nearby forest
or splash fights down by the shore
and smores around the campfire (and more messes to clean up)
and at the very end of the trip you can be proud of your hard work
and make sure you plan the next trip
And that's all the fluff you get from me, alright? 💗
Ahh! I love vacation Andy Barber. This is fluffy and perfect and I want it. Please? 💙
But why is my mind going to dark places that the next trip Andy has planned will be in your new home, whether you like it or not? Or an unexpected guest shows up? No. Bad brain. Fluffy. FLUFFY.
And I love and thank you. 💙💙💙
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The One With The Sneak peak No-one Asked For
18+ Only, MINORS DNI and that is because this story will be hellraiser itself, in my opinion.
Just a little sneak peak on this rough monstrous piece I’m currently working on. I’ve completely plotted it out today and I’m having WAYYYYY too much fun writing it. Current word count rests at 17k >, but not everything is connected and NONE edited or proofread. I’m excited to share this one before the end of this month for a challenge.
Yes, it will be dark content!
Yes, it will contain smut, maybe even too much!
Yes, it will contain a lot of disapproving behaviour!
DO NOT COPY MY WORK!
The air is thick, filled with too much testosterone, but you keep a straight face taking in every single person in the room. You stifle your giggle with ease, it could easily be a scene from a movie. Associates with Fedora’s and Lincoln’s resting on their heads, long fitted coats and cigars between their teeth. Was this the shit Andy had to deal with daily?
You’re unfamiliar with the three men out of the ordinary, they peaked your interest. Wearing leather jackets, arms and necks covered in tattoos, denim jeans and leather biker boots. The biggest of them all rolling a toothpick between his teeth, another chewing his gum like a llama and the small one with the glasses seemed nervous and agitated, tapping his fingers on the table he was sat at.
The sound of your heels hitting the concrete coming from below. You straighten out the fabric of your dress hugging your curves. Hair hanging loose, make-up done to a minimum, but had opted for a bright red lip. You had to present yourself as the strong woman you were, you had let yourself go for a moment. All justified, grieve had send you in a mood, but none of the men present had to know that.
The Price You Pay Chapter 6: Escape Clause
Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader; Senator!Andy Barber x Reader
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat
Chapter Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat; Angst-lite; Funeral Preparation; Blood Mention; Death; Some Esoteric References to Suicide; References to Hunting; Anxiety; Reader is Potentially having a Sustained Panic Attack
Chapter Summary: Be not afraid of Salvation, but let its hand lead you from the dark
Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5
Notes: I don’t even know if anything actually happened in this chapter or if Reader is just trapped in panic but this… this happened.
Thank you all for reading and commenting! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, even if you’re yelling at me.
Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.
All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.
You stayed and now you wake, draped in crisp white cotton and listening to the sound of Andy Barber’s voice drifting from his hotel office, smoke and honey just a wall away. You wake and you remember.
You remember his request, you remember his lips, you remember the way they curved around the sound of your name while you stayed in his arms for just a moment more, so drawn to the safety of him.
You remember Andy Barber offering you one of his shirts, There’s no way you’re sleeping in a suit, Sunshine, and don’t lie to me and tell me you did that when we were campaigning, remember the way you laughed and tried to lie anyway.
I’m taking advantage of you, Sunshine, he told you last night and yet last night you stayed in his bed and he refused to listen to you protest as the living room couch became where he laid his head.
You should get up.
You should get up, you should start your own day, let Andy continue his, push through the rest of what needs to be done and yet…
Yet nothing feels quite as comfortable as this bed and nothing is quite as warm as these sheets and you’ve never felt quite as safe in this room, far from your sanctuary or the sturdy cage of Steve Rogers’s arms.
The door to the room opens and there he is.
Morning, Sunshine, and you can’t see his face but you can hear the smile in his greeting, playful and warm and you feel yourself smiling right back, pushing away the barrier of cloud-white cotton and taking in the sight of him dressed for the day while you…
The Congressional Baseball Game commemorative t-shirt is soft. The same bright blue color of his eyes. And drapes over you like an invitation the moment he properly catches sight of you in it.
He stays in the doorway, a little stiffer than before.
Good morning, Senator, and do you notice the way he swallows at the sound of his title in your voice, or the way his eyes flash dark for a moment? Do you notice, or do you pretend you don’t? Do you traverse the space between what was and what is and bridge the gap to what might be?
Sleep alright? He’s cautious, watching a deer in the woods ready to bolt and don’t you know he’s unarmed? He just wants to patch your wounds, let you run free and safe and know sanctuary is the shape of his smile.
You’re starting to understand.
Yeah. I did, actually. Thank you, I —
Sunshine, if you act like you’re imposing, I’m going to lose it.
He’s smiling too good-naturedly for that to be a threat, walking towards you too slowly for you to remember to run. The backs of his fingers on your cheek are too soft, too comfortable, and you are too safe.
It can’t last.
I should get back.
You can see his brow furrow, smile fading, eyes darkening. A huff of disapproval and the hand at your cheek holds your shoulder a little tighter, You don’t have to do this, I can —
He doesn’t make you shout, not the way Steve does, just fixing you with a searching look instead. Help him understand.
You can’t, is the thing. You can’t and you know it so instead you look up at him and into those warm eyes and you just shake your head, I have to. At least let him know I’m taking time off — that’s professional courtesy, right?
Andy Barber doesn’t usually roll his eyes — he’s a Senator, he’s too professional for that sort of thing, too stiff, too stern — but he knows lies when he sees them and he’s eying you like you might be trying to get one over on him.
It’s not entirely wrong.
His hand holds your cheek in one warm palm and you have to resist the temptation to nuzzle right into it while he looks down at you, Stay until the memorial service.
You know I can’t do that.
You said you’d take time off. Do it — bereavement leave, for all I care, just stay. I need you, Sunshine.
He needs you, he says, and he can’t know the reasons why but it freezes you cold.
Why does he always have to do this? Sound like salvation, smoke and honey and freedom, a shield from all the things you were and cannot be again, clawing at you to drag you back down. You’re drowning in it, your indecision and your fears. Trust one more man to get you out of the mire you’ve trapped yourself in and risk never surfacing again, or struggle against the tide until the end of time, until you finally exhaust yourself and it’s all over?
It’s the same ending, either way, isn’t it?
He can’t be the next safe thing — there is no safety, there was never any, not for you — but you want him to be. You need him to be.
I’ll come with you to the service, you promise, trying to find the middle ground. Everything feels so… so much, all of a sudden, and you’re not enjoying the bubbling anxiety threatening to ruin everything all over again.
Press it down. Tense your jaw and press it down, don’t let him know, he’s done enough.
I’ll come with you to the service, but I mean. I need to get back, right? You’re teasing, keeping it light, trying to see him smile instead of that sharp-eyed concern on his face all over again, I can’t exactly show up to a memorial service in one of your shirts.
You could, you really could, he taunts instead, because of course he does.
You’re used to hunters, used to the hungry look in their eyes, the wandering hands, the searching glances and maybe you shouldn’t be so used to this, the way he steps just that much closer, the way his fingers curl against your hip, the way he looks like he might be able to make himself one with you the moment his lips connect with yours what’s that joke in Othello, the beast with two backs?
He’s not quite beastly, though.
Andy Barber kisses like an invitation, as it turns out. He kisses with one hand to your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. He kisses with a hunger, lips soft on yours, asking for your surrender and you give it, you wrap your arms around his waist you press yourself right into him and maybe you are one in this moment, in the moment before he pulls back, the barest bit. I want to do this right, spoken soft against your lips, an apology and a confession, I should do this right.
But still, his mouth barely leaves yours. Another kiss instead, lingering, while the hand at your waist slips lower and you should stop him, should tell him this isn’t doing it right, should tell him the truth and see if he’ll do better than the men who’ve come before but…
The ringing of his phone, however, does that for you. You may choose him, you may choose the buzzing heat on your skin, the warmth of his smile and the comfortable softness of his hold on you but his work calls first.
It’s a relief, really, when he pulls back, flashes you something apologetic and nervous, lets you step away and feel your senses returning to you and not him, remembering who you are and what you’ve done and something sickly coils inside of you when you remember.
You’re grateful he doesn’t see.
The discomfort doesn’t fade when he has a staffer drop you off at your apartment, discreet and careful, no one needs to know. You’re wrapped in a hotel-branded robe and still wearing his shirt, I’ll take it back when we get to Boston, Sunshine, still wrapped in the comfortable embrace of his cologne, still thinking about the things he promised you.
The promises you’re sure you’ll break, eventually.
You check your phone and Steve’s called once already and you’re tempted to let him call again and again, just to see if he’ll storm up to your apartment too but the fire in your veins demanding confrontation is…
It’s something else, something roiling, writhing cold and dark inside of you, a guilt and revelation all at once and don’t forget what you’ve done.
Liar liar liar traitor traitor traitor coward coward coward.
You want to believe him. You want to believe him more than anything, want to believe he’ll actually be the one to take you out of this place, to keep you from the precipice and the open window that feels more and more like your only out and as you try to wash the blood from your hands you wonder just what steps you’ll need to learn to keep dancing this time.
Always to another man’s tune, Sunshine.
I want to do this right, he told you, I should do this right, he told you and you believe him but the things you want to do and should do are rarely ever the things that you do actually do, are they? You wanted to save yourself from men like Steve Rogers by walking into Steve Rogers’s own arms so who is Andy Barber to you if not the same?
He is the devil you don’t know, but his hands are warm and his smile is sweeter and he is safe. He is promises and concerns and warm beds alone because he wouldn’t want to imply, he is want and worry and the press of lips to your forehead just like he gave before you left his hotel room surrounded by staffers and saved from the rare curious eye.
You need this.
You need this and you can’t let anything — not your guilt, not your morals such as they are, not him — stop you. You need this and you need to escape and if this is the hand you’re being offered then you might as well take it.
Steve Rogers shows up somewhere halfway through packing.
A bold move, and not the one you’d encourage, but who are you to tell the King of New York how he should travel and with whom? The sickness returns the moment his presence casts its shadow over your apartment, entering with ease and acting as if the copy of your keys he made without your knowledge is nothing for you to protest about.
Counsel, he always sounds about halfway between mocking and hurt these days and you wonder if he’s still the same man who spent nearly a month and a half promising you he’d have you begging for him eventually. You, most definitely, are not.
Captain, and another dress is tucked away, just in case, Can I help you?
… Going somewhere, Counsel? He spits the word this time, a curse, a consolidation of all his hatred, a twist of the knife but it’s you wielding it this time, when you wrap your best black pumps in plastic and tuck them into your day-bag for the time you’ll spend sinking into soft dirt and grass next to the grave of a man you asked to die.
I have a funeral to attend, and you turn around and you pretend he isn’t there when you slip past and pretend you have to consider which black dress you’ll wear and what rings will look best on your fingers when you do.
He holds your arm and holds you back and when you are turned around to look into his eyes they are glittering with something you might call hate and when you swallow the venomous bile that threatens to spill from you in your defense, those eyes sharpen into cold rage, You’re going with him.
Are you jealous? It’s a challenge, while you carefully peel his fingers off your arm, glancing down to see if you’ll need a longer sleeve to cover a bruise and, He knew the deceased.
So you’re going. With the friend of the man you asked me to kill, beca—
Correction, Captain, I’m going with my friend and former mentor, to the funeral of a Judge who died tragically of a heart attack, because you wouldn’t have anything to do with his death, would you?
It’s sickly, saccharine and cloying at your throat, words pouring from you like you practiced them all your life, the smile on your lips hiding the fangs you want to sink into his throat, tear him apart, leave him in the shreds he does you, over and over again.
You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years, remember? This life never left room for it, never left you a chance to play coy, never gave you anything but bruises on your body and soul and now you can see just how deep they go, right down to the core of you and so can he, as blood covers the sobbing thing in the center and this is what you made me becomes less of a chant and more of a scream and no that will not be your throat making that noise, not this time not here not now not this time.
You didn’t ask for time off.
I don’t need to, and I won’t. Going to fire me, Captain?
Oh please do, you almost ask him, please fire me, see what that does for you. Do it however you want, set me in the ground, let me go to rot, I dare you to see if I won’t haunt you.
I might, he almost tells you right back, I might, I might break you here and now, I might leave nothing behind for your pretty Senator to find and what would you do then, but be mine all mine.
We had a deal, he says instead.
You broke it first, you remind.
I need to make sure he’s dead.
I gave you the obituary —
You’ve lied to me plenty already. I’m going.
His eyes are storm-dark and abyssal, dragging you down deeper and deeper until you burn yourself in the trenches of his hate and he hisses something low and incomprehensible under his breath.
You’re staying right here, you little bi—
She’s coming with me.
It’s a reversal. Andy Barber stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained on the both of you, alone and not alone all at once and you know he’s capable of calling the sound and the fury upon this apartment if Steve Rogers doesn’t leave and thankfully Steve Rogers knows the same.
How much did he hear, do you think, sweetness?
The cross over your threshold is a warning.
A standoff, even, when Steve turns and the apartment thrums with thinly-veiled violence, warning you again that you are… not safe. This is not safety, this is wolves arguing over a carcass and you are not as dead as they think but you’re not about to give them one more reason to tear at you.
Say that one more time, Steve plucks the string, watching the wire start to unravel, both of them walking that fine line before one kills the other.
She’s coming with me, Rogers, they’re going to be at this forever, neither one willing to strike the other and you refuse to bounce between them so this is it. Make your choice. Who do you need?
The hell she is, she—
I am, you interject with a cooler voice than you ever expected to come out of you, Three days. Tomorrow and the weekend.
And then back. Back to your cage of glass and steel, your soaring views of the city and the threat of flying on clipped wings. And all it cost you was everything you had.
If he’s hurt you, just say the words.
That’s the unspoken request, the unspoken fear, the unspoken worry and Andy Barber squeezes your hand, sitting across from you at a too-fancy-for-its-food-quality hotel restaurant, waiting for the waiter to bring his wine while you toy with a steeping bag of peppermint tea.
He brings out the worst in you. Not Andy, no, not warm-eyed worry and gentle fingers, not smoke-and-honey on your senses, not promises to do this right. You should want those things, you should want the way he makes you feel light, the way he draws your smile, the boldness of his fingers at your cheek and the fire under your skin warmsinstead of burns. No. Him though, Steve Rogers, who won your submission when you refused to grant it to anyone, who sank you to your knees and turned you into a plaything, who haunts your memories even when you are faced with the ideaof salvation.
How are you feeling, Sunshine?
Like Hell, like he’s going to drag me back, like if I show up at that grave-site tomorrow hands will reach up from the coffin and pull me down and he’ll win he’ll win he’ll win. Can’t say that. Can’t tell him you’re scared, can’t say the truth, can’t be sure.
Fine, I’m fine, just… you know. Funerals. You know he knows. You never mention it, the tragedy of the before, the things that led him here, that led you to him, but it’s a fine shelter to hide in, the trauma of the dead.
Like Hell. Used to tell Alex I wouldn’t even attend his after…
After the one he never wanted.
You squeeze his hand back this time, both of you still dancing around the truth and pressing your thumbs into the bruises all at once. You don’t have to do this, Andy.
I owe him that much, you know I do.
Don’t tell him, Sunshine. Don’t tell don’t tell don’t don’t don’t.
You nod and you smile and you squeeze his hand again before the waiter arrives and you try not to pay attention to the buzz of your phone on the table, Steve Rogers reminding you the discussion isn’t over.
It never is.
Drink your tea. Stay calm.
Stay with me tonight. Andy breaks the silence again and you nearly drop the mug.
I’ll put a staffer in your room to make it look occupied, but I don’t want you alone.
You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine.
Sunshine, I want to. You’re dealing with the Syndicate and I saw the way he looks at you. If he shows up…
He doesn’t need to say it. You’re a deer on the run and the sights are aimed, fixed on you in the woods. Run run run, don’t let him find you.
You swallow, hard, burying the sick guilt beneath another sip of tea, settling. He’s right. He has to be right, and you… you want to believe it’s concern, want to believe it’s care want to believe it’s all honest and not the memory of fingers sliding along the column of your throat, not the pressure of arms around your waist, not a hold on you and a claim you can never escape.
You want to believe him.
You make your choice.
And in the hotel room, with its two queen beds, you let Andy Barber hold you close. Safe. For once. For now.
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Not the Only One
Warnings: nonconsent and rape; fingering, marital discord, cheating, spousal arguments, toyplay, spying, counselling.
This is dark!Andy Barber and dark!Jake Jensen and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You and Andy separated after you found out his affair. He can’t let you go and hires a private investigator to keep an eye on you as he tries to win you back.
Note: Well, I decided to fuck your shit up by writing this crossover of horrible men so you’re welcome.
Thank you. Love you guys!
Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
Andy sat at the small table in the café. He checked his watch and turned his hand to feel the warmth of the paper cup. The coffee smelled good but it was burnt. It was his excuse to sit there and wait.
The man was late. He rarely waited on anyone, not in his private life nor in his work.
He glanced up from the dry coffee on the lid of the cup as a man entered. He wore a green canvas jacket with patches sewn onto it. His rectangular glasses gave him a goofy look and his facial hair hardly helped. He waved his phone at the barista as he approached the end of the counter. The barista read the side of a cup and handed it over.
Andy had a bad feeling this was his man. He was assured of his suspicion as the man poked a straw into the dollop of whip cream atop the cold drink and peeked around. He gave a crooked smile and approached Andy’s table but not without a coy glance at a girl typing away on her Mac.
“Andy?” he asked as he reached the table.
“You must be Jensen,” Andy stood and squinted. If he wasn’t dressed like a nerd, the guy would be his doppleganger, aside from the horrid spiked hair and goatee.
“The very one,” he shook his hand, his palm wet from the condensation of his iced drink.
Jensen sat and stopped himself from settling in as he pulled his phone from his back pocket and laughed at his error. He dropped the cell on the table and sucked on the straw noisily before putting the drink down. Andy cleared his throat and straightened his tie.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Andy asked.
“Shit, dude, I’ve been doing this ten years, I think I can handle some house wife,” the man scoffed.
Andy hushed him and leaned forward as he crossed his arms over the table, “I just want to know… what she’s doing. That’s all. I… I won’t get into it but I want to know about anyone she sees.”
“Mhmm, got it,” Jensen took another sloppy sip, “you know, I’ve dealt with this shit a hundred times. Can I ask what you fucked up with old wifey?”
Andy curled his lip in disgust and sighed, “fucked up? I--”
“She didn’t leave you for nothing, guy, trust me, there’s always a reason,” he snickered, “hey, no judgment. I mean, if I had a girl, I wouldn’t let her go for anything.”
Andy sat back and rubbed his neck, “I was stupid. That’s it.”
“Ah, another woman, huh? I gotta admire that. Pulling two girls at once.”
“Shut up,” Andy rumbled as he reached into his jacket and pulled out his cell, “I’ll wire you the money and her information and see you in one week. I don’t have time for this.”
“Oh yeah, you look real important,” Jensen grinned, “nice suit and all.”
“Sure,” Andy said as he forwarded the draft and opened up his cash app, “there. I gotta go.” Andy stood and scooped up his coffee as he tucked his phone away, “no contact. Don’t let her know you’re watching--”
“I think I know how to do my job, dude,” Jensen sat back and sipped from his straw, “see ya next week.”
“Great,” Andy sniffed and left the man, tossing his unfinished coffee in the bin on his way out.
He was already regretting the idea but he had to know. He couldn’t take any more sleepless nights thinking about his wife and the empty space beside him. Was she alone? Had she moved on?
He only saw her during their counseling sessions and those didn’t seem to be helping at all. The last time, she brought up that word; divorce. He agreed to the separation and the therapy to fix it. He knew he screwed up but he didn’t expect her to just leave him. Not after all the effort he’d put in; to the marriage, to the reconciliation.
Why couldn’t she just see how hard he was trying?
He dropped into his car and hit the button to start the engine. The car chirped as it connected to his cell phone and he steered cautiously into traffic. He hit the handsfree and told it to dial her number. It rang a few times then went to her voicemail. He hung up as he rolled to a stop behind another car.
She hadn’t even answered his text confirming their next session with Dr. Truller. The other day, he drove by her condo and saw her out on her balcony but the way her head perked up, he knew he was caught. Her message confirmed it as she asked why he was hanging around her place. He lied and said he hadn’t even realised. He knew she didn’t believe him. She was sure to get a place as far out of his way as possible.
That’s why he needed Jensen. He was the only PI who didn’t sound like a grifter and was recommended by one of the detectives at the station. He could keep an eye on her still and prove to her that he was respecting her boundaries. He turned the wheel and called her again. She didn’t pick up.
Jensen sat in his car, a box of fried noodles in hand as he slurped them from around the chopsticks. He was starving after spending much of the day loading up his old Volvo.
His last job had been so dull, some guy who had merely been planning a surprise party for his husband, and he was not excited to be watching some stiff-collared almost-divorcee in her uptown apartment.
The light over her balcony flicked on and he perked up. He closed up the box and belched and tucked it in the passenger's seat as he grabbed his camera. He zoomed in as she leaned on the railing and lit up a joint. Well, he was not expecting that. She puffed and held in the smoke before she let it go slowly. He snapped a few pics.
Would her asshole husband be upset? Maybe he needed a puff or two. She stood and he let the lens descend and he could see her legs through the glass rail. She wore a set of silken shorts and a matching camisole. She probably thought it was too late for anyone to be watching.
She tapped the joint out in a tray on the small folding table and sat in a reclining chair. She brought up her phone and the glow shone around her. From the street, he couldn’t see much else. She was on the second floor and if she wasn’t close to the rail or standing, he couldn’t really tell what she was doing.
He grabbed the bottle of Pepsi in the cupholder and uncapped it. He rubbed his eyes. He doubted he’d get much more than that. He would have to find a better lookout. Or maybe… he mulled the thought. He really didn’t like to plant bugs without good reason. He could easily get onto the roof next door and get a decent view.
He scratched his chin as he thought. The husband was a bit of a jerk but Jensen could tell he was loaded. If wanted a good cut, he needed to get better results. He waited for her to go inside before he started his car. He drove off as he flipped the stations.
It would be easy enough, no one ever really thought they were being watched.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were going to be late, not that you were in any rush to sit in the counsellor's office and try to talk out your feelings. Yet, you dreaded Andy’s discerning look as the irritation ticked in his jaw. He hated when people were late.
You stuffed your phone into your purse and grabbed your keys from the bowl. You rushed to the door with only one arm in your cardigan but were stopped short as a figure waited on the other side. You blinked and clung to the door as you reeled.
The man was tall and blonde, his hair spiky above a pair of frameless glasses. He smiled as adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He wore a dark blue uniform with the name Tommy on the chest. You recognized the logo from the building’s contractors.
“Um, hi,” you said awkwardly, “can I… help you?”
“I’m just with Diermann’s, we’re doing our safety inspections today,” he said, “the building said they gave notice.”
You wrinkled your brow and tried to remember if you got a slip but you usually just ignored those things. You shrugged and smiled.
“Uh, yeah, I think, er,” you tapped your fingers impatiently on the door, “I’m sorry, I’m on my way out.”
“I’ll be in and out,” he said, “I can tell the manager to come lock up when I’m done.”
“I… I guess,” you stepped back and let him in, “I’m sorry, I have an appointment and I’ll already be fifteen minutes late.”
“It’s fine, happens,” he said casually as he put his bag down on the glass side table, “I’ll leave your copy of the report here.”
“Fine, yeah, thanks,” you said, “please don’t forget to tell the manager.”
“I won’t,” he unzipped his bag and pulled out some device, “you can even call him if you don’t trust me.”
“No, no, I… okay, thanks again,” you closed the door behind you and rushed down to the elevators.
You could already feel Andy’s passive aggressive glare as you stepped through the metal doors. You sighed and rubbed your forehead as you hit the lobby button. It wasn’t working. None of it.
You just couldn’t forget what he did and it made all those flaws you used to look past harder to ignore. And you couldn’t keep paying two hundred dollars an hour just for him to storm out.
As you came up to the plaza, you saw Andy’s car and parked as far from it as you could get. You took your purse and pulled out your phone. Several missed calls from the very man. Your husband was more attentive now that you were separated than when you were together. He didn’t seem to care so much when he was fucking his boss.
Inside, he was sat in the waiting room, his phone in hand as he wiggled it back and forth impatiently. You looked at the receptionist and pulled your purse up onto your shoulder.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” you exhaled, “I got caught in traffic.”
“The doctor is ready when you are,” she replied, “but it will count against your time.”
“I know, sorry again,” you said as Andy stood.
“About time,” he grumbled as he followed you past the desk and down the hall.
“Andy, goddamn it, don’t start now,” you moaned, “we’re supposed to be working on this, aren’t we?”
“Aren’t we? You won’t even make the effort to be on time,” he uttered.
You got to the end and knocked on the door frame as the office was open. Dr. Truller welcomed you in as she stood and waved to the couch where you would sit a foot from Andy and try to hold back your tears. You hadn’t cried in front of him since you found the messages.
Truller closed the door and resumed her seat in the straight backed leather chair. She took her pad and crossed her legs.
“So, how are you doing today?” she asked.
You looked at Andy and his cheek twitched. He shrugged and clasped his hands together, “fine.”
“Okay,” you said quietly. How was it that he cheated and you still felt like you were the one in the wrong?
“Have you two… talked since our last session?” she asked.
“She ignores my calls,” Andy said bluntly, “I’m making an effort but it’s too much of a bother for her to even reply to a text.”
“I’m not ready,” you pushed your shoulders up as guilt rolled along your spine, “I’m trying but… I have a lot going on at work and--”
“This is our marriage,” Andy hissed.
“Did you forget that when you were fucking her?” you snapped at his tone.
“Woah, okay,” Truller said coolly, “we went over this. If you cannot talk out your issues calmly then it’s going to get you nowhere.”
Andy scratched his beard and steeled himself. His tongue poked out and he unballed his fists.
“I’m sorry,” he enunciated carefully, “I don’t wanna fight anymore but… what am I supposed to feel like when I can’t get an answer? It makes me feel like she doesn’t want to try at all. Sometimes I even think maybe she’s with someone else and…”
“You think I would do that?” you shook your head, “I’m hurt. I need space.”
“Hmm,” Truller hummed, “well, you can’t go on ignoring him if you’re serious about working through this. These sessions are supplementary to your personal development. You should at least try to see each other once a week. I gave you exercises, you can use those to guide you,” she paused and scribbled on her pad, “but Andy, you can’t project what you did onto her. Your paranoia won’t help either of you.”
You touched your temple and took a breath. You didn’t have the emotional energy to keep doing this. It was argument after argument and even if he could admit what he did, he never truly faced the consequences. You were wrong for reacting, for leaving, for staying away, for trying to take care of yourself first after years of taking care of him.
“Alright,” you dropped your hand, “we’ll have coffee. We’ll try a little longer but I can’t do this forever.”
“Good, good,” Truller cooed, “Andy, does coffee work for you?”
“Yes,” he said quickly, “yes, I can do coffee.”
Andy waited in the café again. He refrained from ordering the burnt coffee that time and got the equally bitter iced tea. The place wasn’t as nice as the one he met his wife at. They had their expensive drinks and worked through the exercise only to end up arguing again and finally in silence.
He shook his head as he recalled the tension and cringed. He just wanted her to come back but she was so distant. She’d built a wall between them and she wouldn’t let him move a single brick. It was like she never even gave him a chance to repair what he’d broken.
She didn’t listen when he told her he hardly saw Canavan anymore. In fact, he was in the doghouse at work as much as he was at home. He hated how stubborn she could be but he loved it too.
He was kept from dwelling too long as Jensen just as he had upon their first meeting. He picked up a pink drink from the counter and dropped a tip in the jar before he came over to the table. Andy greeted him with a hey and drank his iced tea and grimaced at the unsweetened brew. He should have asked for the syrup.
“Well,” Jensen sat down with a broad smile, “I think you’ll be very happy.”
He plunked his drink down and pulled his messenger bag into his lap. He slid out a thin laptop and opened it up and powered it on. He typed quickly and turned the screen to face Andy.
“Tada,” Jensen said proudly.
Andy squinted and leaned forward as he watched his wife in her kitchen. She was at the oven stirring the frying pan, oblivious to the camera that looked down at her. He sat back and looked at the man over the top of the computer.
“What did you do?” Andy asked.
“My job?” he rolled his eyes, “just a few harmless cameras.”
“You said you wanted to know what she was doing, well, here ya go, “Jensen shrugged and grabbed his drink and took a huge slurp, “what’s the problem?”
“I… it’s a bit intrusive,” he said.
“I only bugged the kitchen and the front room, it’s not like I’m opening an Only Fans for her anytime soon,” he snorted, “honestly, she’s kind of boring, but hey, she’s your wife.”
“Yeah, she’s my wife so maybe watch your tone,” Andy threatened, “I guess the job’s done then.”
“You tack on twenty percent and I’ll send you the feed,” Jensen blew on the top of his straw like a child and the obnoxious noise irked Andy.
“Sure,” Andy agreed, if only to be done with the man.
It was pouring out. Jensen was grateful as the raindrops scoured his windshield and obscured his vision beyond the car completely. He reclined his seat just a little as he sipped on his soda and watched his phone, propped up on the suction cup holder on his dash.
He spent many nights like that of late. He couldn’t help it. He got the lawyer off his back but found himself coming back for the show. Those cameras in the bedroom were just for him. He felt bad about it for a few days but those first nights didn’t yield much but soft snores and the startling alarm on her phone.
But one night she writhed under her sheets and Jensen knew exactly what she was doing. He watched, transfixed with the movement of her hand just beneath the covers. When she did it again the next night, he was at home watching and ended up cumming with her, if not a few seconds before.
He didn’t know why he drove there that night. He was bored and restless at home and decided to go for a ride and ended up outside her building. He turned on the feed and found her in her little nighty, one leg bent and swaying as she laid in bed and watched television. He could see between her legs every time her leg moved to the side, she had no panties on.
He shifted in his seat as he grew hard and reached to fix himself as his dick was caught painfully against his boxers. The friction made him groan and he watched her yawn and pick up her phone to change the video casting from her phone. He left his hand on his crotch and rubbed himself as he leaned forward.
A few more minutes and he was throbbing. He had to get off. He wanted to pull out his dick and just get it over with. Wouldn’t be the first time in the Volvo but he also was tired of just his hand. He wanted the real thing and it was right there, just across the street and a floor up.
She rolled onto her stomach and reached her night stand. Her ass peeked out as she opened the drawer and he gripped himself through his jeans. He bit his lip as she flopped back with the curved toy in hand. He heard the subtle buzz and she dipped it between her legs as she bent them, moving it against her clit as her soft breath hissed.
Fuck it, she needed it too.
You moaned as the ripples swelled within you. Lately, you just couldn’t scratch the itch. You pressed the toy firmly to your clit and moved it faster, trying to rush your orgasm as it rose quickly. The release helped you forget, it helped you relax, even if it didn’t last long.
The murmur of the television barely concealed the noise of your raspy breath and the buzz of the toy. The rain pattered against your windows and cast eerie shadows around you as the figures on the screen added to the flicker. You closed your eyes and pushed your head back as your heartbeat picked up.
You were going to cum. You stuck your tongue out and groaned as your climax crashed down and your toes curled. You stilled the toy and let the vibration guide you through the waves of pleasure. You slowly pushed your legs down and caught your breath. You blew out between rounded lips, a soft whew.
“Finishing without me?” the voice startled you and you sat up as the vibrator dropped between your legs.
The man stood in the shadows and flicked on the lights. His blond hair was soaked from the rain and his clothing streaked with it. His glasses reflected harshly and you quivered as you recognized him. It was the repair man you’d let in weeks prior but he had no uniform and you suspected he was not who he said he was.
You quickly pushed your legs together and scurried over to the edge of the bed. You reached into your bedside table but were pulled away just as you grasped the taser hidden in your drawer. You kept it since before you were married in those days you walked on campus alone. Ever since that night at the sorority.
“Get off, get--” You hit the button and the electricity cracked. He caught your hand and kept the teeth away from him as he wrestled with you.
“Baby, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he cooed, “I’m here to help--” he gritted as he struggled to keep the live zap away from him, “you. God.”
He twisted your arm and flung you away from him. He ripped the taser from your grasp and you turned to push past him. You were paralysed as he pushed the teeth to your arm and you dropped to the floor as the current flowed through you. You trembled in the aftermath of the shock and he tutted as the crackle died in the air.
“Baby, I didn’t wanna do that,” he stepped over you.
You heard a harsh bang against the wood of your night stand. There were several more and he dropped the taser to the floor in pieces. Slivers of the table littered around the broken weapon and he planted a foot on either side of you and grabbed your arms. He drew you up and tossed you onto the bed.
You pushed the air from your lungs at last and got up on your elbows as you looked at him. Your head bobbled as you tried to clear your vision and you gulped. He looked eerily familiar, his eyes were just like Andy’s. You sat up and he pointed a finger at you.
“We both know what you were just doing,” he neared and bent to reach out. You flinched and he took the toy from beside you on the bed, “I just came to help you out.”
“Who are you?” you uttered and looked over at the door.
“Well, the next time you see your husband, you can ask him yourself,” he smirked, “Jensen.”
You blinked in confusion and got up to your knees. Before you could crawl across the bed he had your ankle and was dragging you back. He pulled you to him and grabbed your other ankle as he rolled you over. He pushed your legs apart and climbed up between them, his damp clothing pressed against the silk of your blush nightie.
“Please, don’t--” you begged as he framed your face, his thumb under your chin as he looked you over.
“You’re prettier up close,” he said, “I can see why the old man wants you back.”
“Stop, stop!” you hit his chest, “I don’t know what you want.”
“Exactly what he wants,” he leaned forward as his hand slipped to your throat and he felt along your cunt with the vibrating toy. You sucked in air and bared your teeth, “and you want, huh?”
He shoved the toy down and angled it into you. You grasped the front of his wet tee shirt and whined as he tilted it until it hit your g-spot. “Please, please, please…”
“Oh, you don’t have to beg,” he purred as he moved the toy and the pressure built within you, “fuck, you’re about to go again, aren’t you?”
The knuckle of his thumb grazed your clit with each thrust of the curved toy and your eyes rolled back as you were quickly brought to another peak. Your walls squelched around the toy and you clawed at his neck as your other hand tugged at the collar of his tee. You arched as you squirted all over the handle of the toys and his fingers.
“Holy shit,” he wiggled the toy until you squeaked and opened your eyes.
He sat back, your hands falling weekly over your stomach. He looked down at your cunt and slowly slipped the toy out. You quivered as he dragged it over your clit and clicked it off. He tossed it away and quickly unbuckled his striped belt. You reached up above you and tried to pull your body away from his.
He caught your thighs and pulled you back. He lifted your pelvis and clung to one leg as he fumbled with his fly. You whined and grasped at the blankets desperately, only rumpling them around you as his arm wrapped around your thigh and he curled you body so that your cunt was against his jeans.
He pulled out his dick and gripped it firmly. He gave it a stroke and gasped as he moved closer. He angled his tip along your folds and tapped along your clit as he bit his lip.
“What was it, huh?” he asked as he poked at your entrance, “cheated, didn’t he? And on a lady as pretty as you…” he slid into you just a little, “fuck, and tight.”
He impaled you completely as his thighs pressed against you and you were curled beneath him. He planted his hands on either side of your head as he bent over you. He glassed drooped to his nose and he ripped them off and tossed them onto the pillow. He reared back and dipped into you so that you cried out.
You turned your head away from him and dug your nails into the duvet. He lifted his hips only to slam them down. The steady clap of flesh filled the room and your head, the jolt reverberating through your body. You closed your eyes and held your breath as plunged into you over and over, his groans adding to the sickening rhythm.
He stopped and you exhaled. Your eyes fluttered open and you watched him lean over and grab the toy. He shoved it between your bodies and clicked it on. He began to fuck you again and you were swept up in the tide of ecstasy as it swirled around you. You covered your face and clenched your teeth as you came.
“Pl-pl-please,” you whined, “please…”
He sped up and kept the toy against you as he hammered into your cunt. The rough denim of his jeans scratched your thighs and left you raw as he fell onto his elbow and crushed you beneath him. His hips turned frantic and he made short strokes as his groans turned to gasps.
“I’m gonna cum,” he hissed, “oh, god, I’m gonna cum, I’ve never--”
He threw his head back and sank as deep as he could as your walls squeezed him. He came and you felt the hot flood inside of you. He dropped his head down beside yours and let the toy slip from your cunt as you planted his other elbow and panted. He rested his weight on you as he was cradled between your splayed legs.
“I’ve never cum in a girl before,” he said at last, “usually… wear a condom but… fuck. Too good.”
“Get off me,” you rasped, “get off!”
You pushed on his shoulders and he groaned. He pressed his nose along your jaw and kissed your neck. You shoved his head and kicked your heels against the mattress.
“I said get off,” you sneered.
“I just did,” he snickered as he lifted his head, “and there’s a lot more where that came from.”
Another appointment missed on some flimsy excuse. Andy wasn’t going to wait around for her anymore. Either she wanted to be with him or he had to show her she did. He pulled in outside her building and idled as he tried to call her. No answer, again. He hung up and killed the engine.
He got out and dawdled on the other side of the street. What if this was it? What if she told him then that it was all over? No, it couldn’t end. They both knew that. One fuck up wasn’t going to be the end of them. He loved her and he knew she still loved him. That was why she was so upset.
He stepped out in front of his car, just behind a Volvo and stopped. There was someone in the other car and they were just sitting there, staring across the street. He went back up on the curb and bent to peer into the passenger side window. Was he not done with this dumbass?
Andy knocked on the window, hard. It shook in the door and the man inside flinched as he looked over and grinned in recognition. He rolled down the window and leaned over on the console.
“Hey man, what’s going on?” Jensen asked.
“Are you still watching my wife? I thought-- we were done? What the fuck?” Andy snarled.
“Done with you, bro,” Jensen shrugged, “but let me tell you, I’m doing a lot more than just watching.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Andy ripped open the door and bent over the passenger seat to tear Jensen across the console by the front of his jacket, “what the fuck are you doing here? Tell me now!”
Jensen got his foot up awkward and kicked off the console. He shoved himself out of the car hard enough to get Andy off of him and barely caught his balance against the door. He stood straight and fixed his glasses.
“Dude, you don’t wanna do this, okay?” Jensen said, “she’s moved on. I think you better get used to saying ‘ex-wife’.”
“Moved on?” Andy stepped up, chest to chest with the man. He hadn’t realised it before but they were roughly the same size. Still he stood his ground.
“Look, I didn’t want you to find out this way but if you don’t believe me,” Jensen pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell, “I might have set up an extra camera.”
Jensen turned the screen to him and Andy’s temper flared at once. His wife was on her back, legs around this cretin as he bare ass peeked out above his jeans. He thrust into her desperately as her voice rose from the speaker.
“We kinda have a thing going on,” Jensen smiled and stumbled suddenly as the force of Andy’s fist sent him against the car. His phone clattered to the ground and the other man bent to snatch it up.
“She’s my wife,” Andy growled, “you stay the fuck away from her.”
“Yeah, was she your wife when you fucked around?” Jensen argued as he touched his bloody lip.
“I’ll fucking smash your face in,” Andy shoved him back harshly, “don’t fucking test me.”
“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” Jensen called after Andy as he rounded the hood of the car and waited for another to pass before storming across the street, “fuck, dude, gimme the phone back.”
“Stay the fuck away,” Andy turned back at the other side of the street and pointed at the man with the phone, “from me and my wife.”
Andy spun and continued on through the front door of the building. He stopped as he realised he had no idea how to get past the buzzer. He was sure even if he dialed her code, she wouldn’t let him up. She’d refused texts, calls, everything.
He stopped and looked down at the phone. It was still playing the footage. This time she was on her knees, her head buried in the duvet. He blackened the cracked screen and winced as an old woman pushed through the thick glass door.
“Here,” Andy stepped up and grabbed it from the other side, “ma’am.”
“Oh, thank you, sir,” she smiled at him and eyed his suit. She must have thought he lived there.
“Your welcome, have a great day,” he said pleasantly and watched her go before he continued through.
He had a lot to say. A lot. And he’d held in too long to keep it to himself. Now they were even. Now, they could go back to the beginning. A clean slate.
The pounding on your door frightened you. Your heart picked up as you trembled. Was it him again? That creep? He didn’t usually knock.
You got up and peered through the peephole. Fuck. Andy.
You sighed and readied yourself to face your husband. Uck, soon-to-be ex-husband. You opened the door and leaned against it as he planted his hand on the wood and tried to push inside.
“Woah, what are you doing?” you struggled to keep the door open only a few inches.
“What are you doing?” he retorted, “you haven’t been coming to the sessions and now you’re ghosting me.”
“Andy, this isn’t working. I just… was trying to figure out how to tell you,” you said, “please, my lawyer’s already drawing up papers.”
“Tell me it’s not because of him,” he demanded as he hit the door with his fist.
You were silent as your skin crawled and stomach churned. You swallowed and put more weight against the door.
“You know… him?” you eked out, “did you send him to… to--”
“Well, we’re even now, aren’t we?” Andy shouldered threw and grabbed your arm. He slammed the door and backed you away from it, “so you come home and we work this out. On even ground.”
“Even? Even? No, Andy, not even close. He…” you couldn’t say it as your heart raced and fear coursed through your veins, “why the fuck did you send that creep?”
“I had to keep an eye on you. You weren’t answering me,” he grabbed your other arm and he snarled, “you’re still my wife.”
“Fuck you, Andy. You should’ve thought about that before you started fucking your boss,” you tried to wriggle away and his grip on your tightened.
“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he growled, “you know that? Even after you screwed that dweeb, you can’t let it go--”
“You think I--” you bit down and hit his chest, “Andy, let go of me and leave! I’ll call the pol--”
“You’re not doing shit,” he spun you so suddenly your feet tangled in each other.
He caught you around your waist and neck and held you against him. He walked you into the front room as you writhed against him, pulling at his thick arms. You cried out and he tightened his arm around your throat until you choked. He pushed you to the long couch, the leather streaked with the sunlight streaming in through the sliding doors.
He lifted you and dropped your knees onto the cushion. You tried to shove away from the couch as you braced the back and he leaned his weight on you until your arms were crushed against your chest.
“An--” you rasped as you slapped at his thick arm and clawed the thick fabric of his suit.
“I won’t let you go,” he sneered as he forced his knees between your legs and pushed them apart, “we can work this out.”
“Andy,” you squeaked and flung your hand back. Your nails scratched his cheek and he grunt and twisted your arm back as he kept his other arm around your neck.
“You still love me, you still need me.”
He retracted his arm and grasped the back of your head. He slammed your face down on the back of the couch so you were smothered by the leather. He let go of your arm and you felt him fumbled behind you. You grunted helplessly as you tried to get away from him but it only sent a pang down your spine.
He leaned against you and pulled aside the silky fabric of your shorts, the lace tickling your thigh. He rubbed his tip over your folds and his hot breath scoured your shoulder as he hunched over you. He thrust into you with a single buck of his hips and you whined against the couch.
You grasped the front of his jacket blindly and your other hand gripped the leather cushion as you gulped for air. He pulled back and sank into you again with a groan. He stayed flush to your back as he moved your body with his, rolling his hips against your ass. The smell of his cologne made you sick as you turned your face away from the couch.
“He--” you began but he covered your mouth with his hand and sped up.
“Honey, can’t you feel how much I love you. How much I need you to come back,” he purred, “I can feel how much you miss me.”
Your bare legs were firm against his stiff suit pants as he kept your legs apart with his. He moaned against the back of your head and pounded you against the couch until your arms slipped over the other side and you hung halfway over the leather. He crushed you with his weight and his needy tempo.
“Oh, honey, he can’t fuck you like I can, that little rat,” he rasped, “can he?”
You murmured and squeezed your eyes shut as you clenched around him. You hated that he felt familiar even through the spite. You hated that your body knew his. How that hadn’t been enough for him.
“God, god--” he gasped and jerked into you so hard it made your ass sting. The metal teeth of his zipper bit into your skin as he repeated the motion again and again until he stopped, deep inside of you as he came. “Fuck, you always did get me going.”
You sniffed and fluttered your lashes as tears bobbled along your eyelids. A single droplet fell onto his hand and he pulled it away as he slid out of you. He bounced you on the cushion as he stood and exhaled.
He cleared his throat as you fell onto your ass and drew your legs up as he leaked out of you. You dabbed your cheeks with your knuckles and batted away the tears with your lashes. You didn’t look at him as you hugged legs and hid your face from him.
You stayed as you were as you listened to him move around. You were startled as he returned and dropped the open suitcase beside you. He disappeared and returned with a handful of clothes and flung them inside. He stopped and leaned over the couch and grabbed the back of your head. He made you look at him.
“You’re coming home,” he snarled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone in a hazard yellow case; it wasn’t his. He flicked on the screen and you saw yourself pinned beneath other, Jensen’s eager fucking slapping from the speakers, “or I show this to the lawyers and see who gets alimony… think maybe your boss might like a peek too.”
“Andy, why--” you croaked.
“You’re my wife,” he nearly yelled, “I love you and we’re not doing this anymore. This isn’t your home.”
“Where did you get that?” you slowly stood and reached between your legs as your cunt ached.
“I told you,” his brow arched, “I had to keep an eye on you.”
Jensen yawned as the smell of take out made his stomach growled. The suburban street was dark and quiet as he sat in his beat-up Volvo, the new phone propped on the dash as he opened the paper container and split apart the chopsticks.
He cradled the stirfry on his lap and reached to flick to another room. The house was huge but he’d covered almost every foot of it with the covert lenses.
The jackass lawyer really thought he’d scared him away. His jaw still hurt but it didn’t make a difference. He could bug this guy's office and he’d never know the difference. It was why he hired him in the first place. Because he was a dumbass.
I mean, who hired a PI and thought that they wouldn’t look into their client? Jensen wasn’t stupid enough to trust a guy just because he wore a nice suit. Those types usually had the darkest secrets.
Andy wasn’t going to ruin his fun. He could drag the lady home but he couldn’t keep him away. Besides, Jensen didn’t mind watching. He was learning lots from these late night shows. A lot he was eager to try himself.
That night was little different than the one before. Jensen was a bit late and when he got to the bedroom camera, they were already fucking. Andy’s bare ass blocked the view of his wife’s but he could hear the loud clapping of flesh from the tiny speaker. The whole bed moved with the lawyer’s angry pounding and made Jensen squirm in his seat.
He switched angles so he could watch her tits bounce. She hung her head as she grasped the duvet in her curled fingers and her low whimpers further added to his discomfort. He hadn’t visited her since they left the condo empty. He didn’t want to blow his cover so he waited and watched.
Andy bent over her and snaked his arm around her torso. He pulled her up as he continued to slam into her and she clung to his arm as her head lolled over his shoulder and her face contorted in agonized bliss.
He put aside the mostly untouched stir fry and leaned back as lifted his pelvis to unzip his jeans and pull out his dick. He was even harder as they switched positions. He began to play with himself as he focused on the small screen. He couldn’t wait much longer.
The lawyer had a deposition tomorrow. She would be working from her laptop in the upstairs office. It would be his chance. She must miss him terribly after all. Trapped in a loveless marriage with that asshole.
It was only right that she got a taste of vengeance, a bit of happiness on the side. Plus, she was too afraid of the husband to tell him about the visit. He smirked at the thought of fucking her over the desk. It would be their dirty little secret.
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You were back from university looking for a full time job when your mother threw your name into the ring to become a nanny for the newly divorced, newly arrived neighbour down the street
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What am I even doing with my life? Please don’t hate me for this…
HELLFIRE (a concept)
“Forgive me father, for I have sinned”
“You haven’t yet, child.” He murmured, brushing his hand against her cheek. “But you will.”
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give him what's his. [blurb.]
[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 this blog. for more information on this blog’s commitment to protecting minors, read eun’s full statement here.]
summary | andy takes advantage of you when you agree to come over and help him sort through some paperwork.
pairing | dark!andy barber x assistant!reader
warnings | NON-con, dark!andy barber (kinda soft!dark tbh), restraints (his tie!!! asdfghjkl), fingering, crying, unprotected s!ex (bad! don't do it!!), forced orgasms, overstim, lil bit of mocking/degredation, breeding kink (against readers will), cum play? idek what that really means but i'm p sure this is it lol
requested by anon | Hi doll! Could I please request some dark!Andy Barber with a breeding kink? I've just been in a mood lately tbh. Maybe Jacob and Laurie died and he just wants another kid, this time with his assistant (you)?
an | hi friend thanks so much for your request (and omg i'm so sorry it took me so long) i've been saving this one lol dark!andy barber + breeding kink is just :'-) superior, hope you enjoy!!
Andy's always been good to you; he's never given you any reason to suspect he would do you any harm.
Losing both his child and wife at the same time was difficult for the poor man, as it would be for anyone going through such tragedy. You weren't sure what kind of methods he was using to cope with his grief, but you refrained from asking. As his personal assistant, you were closer to him than anyone, but at the same time there was a level of respect you wanted to maintain. You figured he was simply dealing with it on his own. Whatever he was doing seemed to be working.
Until you made the grave realization that it wasn't. Or that maybe, what he had planned was much less virtuous than you were assuming when he invited you over to help him sort through files at his home one evening.
How you ended up like this, back pressed against the cold granite of your superior's kitchen counter with both of your arms tied above your head with the silky fabric of his necktie as you struggle against his hold, is truly a mystery to you.
"A-Andy, please," you beg, your legs flailing wildly as the dark-haired man drags a hand down your bare stomach, slowly making its way between your thighs.
"Shhh, stop resisting me, sweetheart," Andy teases, a smile forming on his face as he reaches the dampness pooling between your legs. "See, look how needy you are for me already. Knew you would make such a perfect girl for me, knew you were exactly what I needed, honey."
"Andy, s-stop- please. We can work this out, I-I-"
"Shh-shh shh," the man cuts you off again as he drags your wetness up through your folds to find your clit, circling the throbbing nub in agonizing circles. "That's it, sweetheart. Gotta get you nice and ready for me.
"A-Andy," you sob, warm tears rolling down your cheeks as he crouches down a bit to get a better view, forcing your legs open with his arms as he manipulates your most sensitive places.
"Look at that," Andy croons as he watches your button swell, working the pads of his digits so carefully over the burning flesh. "Didn't think you'd be this easy to get worked up. You like that, baby? Like the way it feels when I rub your tight little cunt?"
Moving his thumb to your clit, he begins working two fingers up against your opening. Choking back a sob, you squeeze your eyes shut in humiliation. "Come on, honey. Need you to cum for me, wanna see how it looks when you fall apart on my fingers."
Despite your best efforts, you can't help the terrifying feeling of your peak building up in your tummy as you cry out, clenching down with impressive force. "Good. That's it, honey," Andy praises as you squirt onto his crisp white button-down, the sight of you climaxing against your will more than enough preparation for what the man has planned next.
As you struggle to recover from your mind-numbing high, you hear the unzipping of Andy's dress pants, a fresh round of tears forming in your eyes as they land on his massive length. Pumping himself a few times in his hand, the hungry-eyed man looks at you, a low growl sounding from his chest. "Finally," he declares. "Gonna take what's mine. Gonna make you give me what's mine."
You sob loudly as Andy enters you, his cock filling you in an unbelievable sense despite all the cum you provided as lube against his fingers. Andy fucks you hard and fast, sweat beading across his forehead as he pounds into you relentlessly, holding you steady with a hand on your shoulder, the other on your hip.
"That's... it..." he pants between thrusts, "taking me so fucking well. Look so pretty, so full of my cock," he grins, pressing down on the bulge in your lower tummy as you tighten around him, unable to do anything more than wail and writhe in pain and pleasure. "Gonna look even prettier when I fill your tummy with my baby," he beams, his words causing your heart to drop into the pit of your stomach.
"A-Andy, please! No, please, y-you can't!" you implore as you struggle to move an inch against his incredible hold, another round of burning building up in your core before you can even think to try to stop yourself.
"Fuck, just like that. Gonna make me a daddy, sweetheart? Gonna be my sweet baby girl, give me everything I deserve?"
"A-Andy, I-" you struggle, the man's eyes darkening as he gives a few last forceful pumps, warmth gushing into you as you cry out in horror.
"Shhh," his gentle voice soothes, one of his hands coming up to wipe at your tears carefully while the other lowers to find your clit, causing you to jolt against his warm skin as he rubs in tight, fast circles. "Come on, honey. Need one more, just give me one more. Gotta make sure it works, sweetheart. Gotta make sure you're mine, all mine."
Your eyes roll back into your head as you're brought over the edge once more, your gutwrenching cries of distress somehow not enough to drown out the sick man's words of praise.
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Warning: Kidnapping and stalking
Summary: After two years Andy has found you again.
A/N: This is late because of my time managing. But enjoy one of the first special chapters of the sequel to homebound. Also this is the first thing I’ve been able to finish or had the drive to finish. Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Andy is now turning into soft-dark but I mean he always was.
He felt as stiff as a board and his body felt like it was being pushed down deeper into the soft bed. He could hear the soft whispers around him but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He spent a few days struggling to wake himself up from his deep slumber.
The sun was shining in his face. His beard was still trimmed as well as his hair. Whoever was taking care of him was keeping up with appearance. He moved his eyes but had yet to open them. He found strength and He slowly fluttered his eyes open.
He expected to see a hospital room but that wasn’t what he saw. It was just a plain bed that was dark because the curtains were closed. He put his hand firmly against the bed. He used his core muscles to help himself sit up. He groaned from the pain. He looked down at the bandages wrapped around his stomach.
His memory of what happened to him was foggy. He couldn’t remember why he was even here. Then slowly all at once his memories came flooding back. He remembered the cold blade going through his abdomen. The look of confusion on your face.
Did you really want to kill or just injure him? The door opened and a short blonde walked in. She looked in shock that he was up. “Mr. Barber, please lay back down. We need you to rest.” He laid back down with a grunt.
“What happened?” The nurse walked further into the room. She walked over to him to check his vitals. “We had to perform surgery, the blade broke off. You’ve been in and out of sleep for days because of the loss of blood you had.”
He looked ahead while she checked his stitches. “Where am I? This isn’t a regular hospital.” A tall man dressed in a dark blue suit walked in. His heels clicked against the hardwood floor. “You are very observant, Andy. Lydia that will be all for today.”
Lydia nodded her head and was gone in a flash. “I’m a friend of Bryan’s. He asked me to help you out because of your situation. One thing I have to say is was she worth it? Worth the fact you will have to live the rest of your life in a disguise.”
After weeks that seem to have blurred into months. Andy was doing better, he spent his time cooped up in Bryan’s friend's house. Taking daily strolls along the lake to get away from it all. He wondered what you were doing and where you were.
Soon those months turned into two years. And Andy was doing much better. He was going under a new identity in order to acquire money for his big trip out of the states. He already had a house prepared for him down in Cabo. An investment he made way before Jacob was born. He knew one day that house would come in handy.
Andy was still trying to find you. He searched Facebook to Instagram and he always came up empty. He was starting to grow frustrated and increasingly paranoid. He wondered if you were with someone else, that thought sent him into a frenzy. Some bastard with his girl, he would not allow that.
He had to find you.
After countless days of searching he unexpectedly saw you. There you were sitting in a coffee shop, the new AirPods in your ear. Your hand wrapped around an ice coffee where the ice was melting. Ruining the delicious cold beverage.
The other hand was resting on your keyboard. Your eyes were scanning whatever was in front of you. Andy stared at you for some time before walking across the street. He strolled through the bookstore without any intention of buying a book. He kept his eyes on you until you walked out the coffee shop.
Your laptop bag strap was across your chest. You held the laptop close to the front of you. Andy walked out of the bookstore and held his cap down more. He strolled down the sidewalk with you. He followed you to your car and looked at the license plate.
He discreetly pulled out his phone to take a picture before turning around. He would be seeing you rather soon.
Andy couldn’t believe he had you in his arms. His hand was sliding up your bare skin. His fingertips brushed against the hem of your panties. He looked at your lips and he wasted no time leaning in. He pressed his lips against yours along pressing you into the bed.
He shuddered from the soft kiss. He pulled away with an eerie smile. In time you too would shudder from the kiss between you two. But he had no time to waste, he was leaving tonight to his new home.
For a chance at another life.
Andy hummed to the classical music playing through his speakers. He cracked two eggs on the hot skillet. There was a crackling sound as soon as they hit the pan which filled him with delight. He had a pink apron wrapped around his waist. Red plaid pajama pants with a gray t-shirt.
You watched him from the kitchen table. A red gag was lodged in your mouth. His red plaid pajama shirt kept you warm. It smelled like his cologne that brought back such bad memories. Your hands were cuffed to the leg of the table.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” you were still in shock at the fact that he was still alive. Even more shocked at the domestic display he was putting on. Andy turned off the stove and carefully put eggs, bacon and a small bowl of fruit on your plate. And then did the same to his plate. He carried the two plates over with a bright smile on his face.
He sat the plates down before coming to stand behind you. He was so close to you that you could feel his body heat. He leaned down and unclasped the gag, he let it fall into the palm of his hand. He leaned down closer and pressed his lips against your temple.
The kiss lingered just like his fingers that were inching closer to your nipple. “Please,” he grabbed at your boobs and groaned against your head. “Shh, I’m not going to do anything yet. But let’s eat, I made a delicious breakfast.” He pulled away from you and sat down in front of you.
You could feel the ghost feeling of his fingers. You clenched your legs and he noticed. He smirked as he poured the freshly squeezed orange juice into your glass and his. “I’ll make you want me,” he laughed, which made you swallow hard.
“Now eat up.”
The window was wide open. The cold breeze was coming through the window. Andy had his face buried in the crock of your neck. His soft snores vibrated against your soft skin. His hand tangled in the fabrics of your nightgown. His thick hairy leg in between yours. His growing beard was tickling against your skin.
You looked up at the ceiling. The darkness drowned out the natural light coming in through the windows. It had been a day since you last spoke to your sister. You wondered when she would notice your absence. Your hand was pressed against his bare back. You slid your hand down closer to feel the rough skin against your fingertips.
Why were you being so domestic with him? He killed your friend and then waited two years before tying up his loose ends. But here you were rubbing his back up and down. Enjoying the warmth of his body pressed up against your body.
He pulled you closer to his body. His fingers digging hard in your skin, it was like he was afraid to let you go. You closed your eyes and let your tiredness take over.
You woke up to the feeling of his soft lips pressing against your forehead. His big hand moved down until it was on your thigh. You knew he wanted to do more but he would rather it be consensual. He was such a conscious man when it came to that.
“Good morning,” his raspy voice sent tingles down your spine. Making a heat rise in you. You opened your eyes slowly to see Andy’s face. His once short cut hair was much longer. The light stubble of his dark beard now growing in.
“Don’t force me to love you. Because I won’t no matter how hard you try.” He smiled like he knew you were saying a lie. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. He pulled away slowly from the kiss with a smile on his face.
And with that you saw a different side of the man. He would come and wrap his arms around your waist. Kiss along the nape of your neck. He would rub your feet when he noticed you trying to do so.
He even learned how to give a manicure and pedicure. He was such a strange man to you now. How could this murder be so soft with you. It was like the man he used to be was completely gone…. But those horrible things were unforgivable.
So, why did you find yourself falling in love with him?
Taglist: @velvetcardiganbucky, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters , @peachescream06 , @kelbabyblue , @marvelatthisone
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baes i am begging u to follow my new blog instead of this one, i don’t post on here anymore!!!! please please please follow @buckysbrattybug,, i’m much more active over there <33
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Willing or Not (Sequel)
Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x Reader
Summary: Andy didn't agree with your decision to go back to your life back home and leave him.
Warnings: DARK!FIC 18+ ONLY. noncon to dubcon (drugging, forced captivity, blackmailing via orgasm denial), edging, dom-sub themes, praise kink, corruption kink if you squint, throat fucking, angst, this is basically just filth
A/N: It's the sequel to the supposed OneShot. I intended this to be much darker but I think this works too. Enjoy! Not edited. Not beta’ed. All mistakes are mine.
No permission is granted to repost, translate, or steal my work. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.
Full Masterlist | Willing or Not Part 1
Andy Barber gave you a chance. He gave you a chance to tell him that you had in fact canceled your return flight. He gave you a chance to say that you were staying with him. He gave you a chance to say that he was all you wanted.
"I want to stay, Andy. God knows I've never felt this way about anyone before," you said softly as you held his hand. For a moment Andy's face brightened with hope. "But I have a life back home I can't just abandon."
Andy's face fell and your heart clenched painfully. Suddenly the loneliness that was always just lingering at the back of his expression came front and center. You grabbed his hands and pressed them to your lips in a gesture meant to comfort him.
"I don't want this to end either."
His smile was weak as he kissed your forehead and promised to make the most of your remaining time together. You were relieved that he seemed to understand and that you wouldn't be parting on bad terms. You said yes to another drink when he stood to go to the kitchen.
Andy gave you a chance.
You slowly woke up feeling disoriented, your eyes heavy and unfocused. There was a nip of pain between your brows, a telltale sign of the beginnings of a migraine. Where were you? What the hell happened? You barely had any time to think about other questions when an intense heat washed over you that had you moaning involuntarily.
Your still fuzzy brain struggled to process that it wasn't heat like fire that you felt. It was more under your skin. More like it was searing through your nerves. It was the heat of arousal.
Another moan was ripped from you and you tried to squeeze your legs shut, only to be forced open wider by strong hands. That jolted you into focus, your eyes immediately flying to your exposed lower half. You were completely naked in a room that you know now was not yours and you had no recollection of going to. You had even less of an idea of why Andy Barber was between your legs eating you out like a man deprived.
"Andy?" you breathed. "What's going on?"
You gasped when he plunged his tongue into your cunt suddenly, your back arching and hips angling to ask for more. Instinct told you to grab his hair and push him in deeper but that was when you realized that your hands were restrained by soft silk ties to the headboard.
The panic set in.
You began to struggle against the binding, pulling hard at the secure knots. Your legs tried to push away from the man still feasting on your womanhood, but he was quick to hold you still and a sharp suck on your clit brought the traitorous arousal back to the forefront. Andy anticipated that you would resist, but he didn't want you to hurt yourself by using rope so he had carefully chosen from his tie collection instead. He wasn't a monster.
He loved you.
"I'm sorry, honey," he said as he continued to torment you with his mouth, the vibrations from his words making you shudder. "I was gonna wait until you woke up, but I just couldn't resist having a taste.”
He swirled his tongue around your bud before fucking his tongue inside you again. You felt rather than heard him groan his appreciation. "You taste so good, honey. I couldn't help myself."
It felt so good that you grinded your cunt harder onto his face, his beard scratching at you deliciously. At the back of your mind the fear still nagged at you.
"Andy, why am I tied up? Where are we?" you asked, fighting through the haze of pleasure yet at the same time not wanting him to stop because you were so close.
He lifted his head slowly from your soaking cunt and crawled up your body until his face was inches from yours, his beard wet with your essence and his eyes burning with an anger that made your blood run cold. He took a hand to cup your face, gentle despite the hard expression on his face.
"You were going to leave me."
Your eyes widened and you completely froze underneath him as all the pieces slotted into place. You told him you were going back home next week. The slightly different aftertaste in your drink. Flashes of walking out your apartment with Andy's arm around you. His house. This was his house. A glass of water brought to your lips upon your arrival with the same unusual aftertaste was the last thing before total darkness.
Andy had taken you.
Tears sprung into your eyes as the fear overwhelmed you. You looked up at him and begged. "Please don't hurt me."
His expression softened and he shushed you while he kissed your tears away. "I could never hurt you, honey."
He looked like the Andy you knew and for a moment you were hopeful. That was until he grazed his lips against yours and plunged his fingers deep inside your cunt. "But I can't let you go either."
You keened loudly at the sudden intrusion. The way he curled his fingers and started pumping fast and hard into you was making you forget yourself. It was getting harder to focus on anything other than the rapidly tightening coil inside you.
"You said you didn’t want this to end. You didn't really wanna go, did you honey?"
"I have to," you managed to stutter between gasping moans. You pulled at the ties and yelped as he went harder, scissoring you deep and pressing a thumb on your clit. He nuzzled his face along the column of your neck, the soft gesture a direct contrast with his furious fingers.
"No you don't, honey. You're mine now. I'll take care of you."
"Please, Andy. I won't tell anyone. Just let me go," you said through gritted teeth, struggling to keep your head when you feel so close to the release that he's denied you once already.
"Don't I take good care of you, honey?" he asked, completely ignoring your begging. It wasn't the kind he wanted to hear from you.
He dipped his head to take a hardened nipple in his mouth, sucking and toying with it between his teeth. He curled his fingers until he found that spot that had you on the verge of desperation. He smirked against the soft swell of your breast as you tightened around his fingers.
"Right there, honey? That how you like it?"
You were barely holding on to your resolve, his thumb now rubbing insistently on your throbbing clit wasn't helping with that. You may still be fighting him, but your body was already decided and he knew just which strings to pull to get you singing. He would convince you that your place was with him.
He smiled. He knew you were close, his hand practically drenched and your thighs starting to shake. "Tell me what you want, honey."
"Please let me go."
His smile fell. All at once he ripped his hand from your needy core, taking with it your orgasm yet again. You screamed at the loss, your hips moving to try to chase his retreating hand.
"I'm sorry, Andy! Please. I'm sorry. Please!" You begged before you could think it through. "Please let me cum. I'm sorry!"
His lips quirked. There it is. There's the begging he wanted. His cock hardened further at the sight of your begging and at his mercy. He shuffled his expression to something more stern.
"But you hurt me, honey. You still wanna leave."
He ran his hands all over your body; squeezing, stroking, and gripping at your curves. It was simultaneously bringing you down from your ruined orgasm and stroking the fire in your body, keeping you needy for him.
"I'm sorry. I'll be good, Andy,” you promised, moaning when he tugged at your nipples. "I'll be good."
"Don't you think you should make it up to me?"
His fingers were lazily swirling around your clit again. It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough and he knew it.
"Yes. Anything you want, Andy. Please."
He pulled his hand away again and it was all you could do not to cry in frustration. He reached above you and released you from the headboard, you winced at the ache in your shoulders. He kept your hands bound still and pulled you by them until you were on all fours right in front of his angry cock.
He saw the hesitance on your face, knowing full well that you haven't done this before. Your entire sexual experience was limited to Andy and he was reveling in that fact.
"Don't worry, honey. I'll teach you how to suck cock like a good girl." He held his cock in his hand and slowly ran the tip across your lips. "Now open that pretty little mouth."
You did as you were told, taking every inch he pushed into your month until you started to struggle with his size. He withdrew to let you breathe before plunging in again, each time deeper than the last until you got the hang of it.
"There you go, honey. That's it. You're doing so good for me," he groaned above you. "Relax your throat and take it all. Fuck, that's good."
Your jaw was starting to hurt but you preened at the praise, happy that you were pleasing him. You felt him bend over you, one hand in your hair to hold your head in place as he rocked his hips faster against your mouth while the other squeezed hard on your ass. The harsh slap that followed caught you off-guard and had you choking on his cock. You tried to pull away but Andy was unrelenting, continuing to fuck your mouth with each spank.
"This was supposed to be a punishment, honey, but you seem to be enjoying it."
He swiped his hands against your folds, smearing around the evidence of your arousal. He chuckled when your face burned with shame. Despite that, you rubbed your thighs together for some semblance of relief. You chanced a glance up at Andy. He had his head tossed back and eyes closed, lost in the warmth of your mouth on his cock. You snuck your bound hands toward your aching core, carefully trying to keep yourself balanced so as not to alert him. You sighed when your fingers found their target, quickly working yourself to a much needed climax.
One more flick. That was all you needed.
The deep snarl was the only warning you got before you were tossed onto your back and Andy was balls deep in your weeping cunt with one forceful thrust. He didn’t start slow like he did before. This time it was a punishing pace from the beginning that had your body jolting up from the force.
“The only way you’re cumming tonight is around my cock,” he growled. “You wanna cum so bad that you’re disobeying me again?”
He snapped his hips harshly and bit at your shoulder. You were a moaning mess, practically delirious from being denied so much. The grip he had on your hips was tight, sure to leave bruises tomorrow.
“I’m sorry! Please, Andy.”
He lifted you up until you were seated on his cock, chests pressed together and your arms looped around his shoulders. He bounced you on his cock and claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, his hands guiding your hips to fuck yourself on his cock faster. Your head was spinning, only filled with the singular thought of finally getting your release.
“I thought you wanted to leave though,” his voice was mocking as he pulled your hair to get you to meet his eyes.
You shook your head hurriedly. “No! I don’t wanna leave.”
“Tell me what you want then.”
“I wanna cum on your cock.”
He caught you by the back of your thighs and lifted you to hover with just barely the tip still inside you. You whined and protested at again being denied, but he was too strong for you to overpower.
“You were going to leave me, honey.”
This time his voice sounded more hurt and the loneliness was clear in his blue eyes. For the moment you forgot about the sexual torture he was putting you through. The need to never be the cause of that look on his face ever again consumed you despite the alarm bells ringing in your head.
“I’m not going to leave you,” you said softly.
“Say it,” he said. “Say you’re mine.”
He drove his cock up into you at the same time he released you, pounding into you with abandon as you held on to his shoulders. The room was loud with slapping skin and wet squelching noises. The moans you were letting out were laced with profanity and barely coherent pleading.
“That’s it. Take my cock. Fuck, you’re soaking. Is this all just for me, honey?”
“Yes! Fuck, yes! Right there. Please don’t stop.”
“Say it again.”
“I’m yours, Andy.”
His hand slipped between you to rub roughly and quickly on your bud and you felt like you had been set on fire. He was railing into you with thankfully no sign of stopping this time. This time he wanted you to completely lose yourself.
“Good girl,” he smiled as he kissed you. “Now, cum.”
Your body was no longer yours at this point. It had completely surrendered to Andy and answered only to him. At his command, your vision went white and stars danced in your eyes. Your mind went blank as you shook violently on top of him, clenching down on him so tight that it was difficult for him to keep thrusting as he chased his own release.
He pushed you both down on the bed, his thrusting maintaining that brutal pace that was pushing you toward overstimulation. His hand still remained between you, still rubbing incessantly on your abused clit.
“I can’t,” you shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.
“Just one more. Give me one more.”
Even as you protested, you already felt the pending orgasm and you knew Andy felt it too. The smile on his face was smug as he pounded even harder into you. One sharp snap of his hips and a nip at your ear sent you careening over the edge, drenching you both with your release.
“Fuck, yes. Drown my cock, honey.”
The gorgeous sight of you beneath him completely fucked out and soaked in your own cum tipped him over the edge. He spilled into you with a loud low growl.
Andy collapsed on top of you, completely spent from the best fuck he’s ever had in his life. It took a long while before either of you regained your senses or your breathing. He lifted himself on his elbows and kissed you languidly, his cock still buried inside you.
“We’ll get married next week,” he said casually. “And you’re going to stop taking your pills. I’m going to keep you pregnant as often as I can.”
The alarms were blaring in your mind, but one look at his face and the thinly veiled threat behind his eyes had you nodding your head in acceptance.
“Say it again, honey.”
You swallowed down the hard lump of fear in your throat.
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You wrote stepdad! Andy but what about stepdad Steve, Ransom, Ari and frank? HC pls?
My blog really has turned into a stepdad kink shrine because of the Andy fic hasn’t it?! lol 😂 well nonnie I’ve honestly never even thought of that. Andy seemed like the only one that screamed “I fuck my stepdaughter” to me lol. I didn’t know if you wanted a dark hc or not so here we are. I guess imma just tell you if I see them as dark or not.
For ransom I don’t think he’s the type to marry, and he isn’t patient enough to marry an older lady and then go for her daughter. I think he’s the type of guy who wouldn’t see any shame in dating the daughter of one of his country club buddies *who is of age of course. He definitely waltzes into every country club members event, golf game or whatever else he does with you on his arm. He makes you call him “daddy” in public, is his usual cocky self and fucks your everywhere he can. He seems dark but he’s just a poor lil unloved thing and he’s not kidnapping you lol. Your parents hate him tho but he has no time for that so he just tells them to go fuck themselves while he fucks you.
Stepdad Ari is too pure to be into that. He’s more like the dilf across the street you crush on but you know it’s never going to happen. He’s gives me more of the dads best friend vibe. Same with frank. So as far as dark or sweet goes they’re definitely on the sweeter side.
Stepdad Steve?! Oh boy. That mofo killed your mom to have you. So yes very dark. Lol. He’s strict, likes doing you on his expensive car, makes you call him daddy, because of course he does, and also refers to himself as daddy..... because of course he does.
He doesn’t want kids because he wants you all to himself, he pretends that the two of you aren’t in a relationship long after things settle and no one really knows your story. He’s jealous as fuck and will annihilate any man, woman, and non binary person who looks in your direction. He’s still soft on you and likes seeing you cry so he can comfort you. He makes good of those super soldier muscles if you know what I mean ;). You eventually fall in love with him because you disappear during the snap and after you get back you two are literally codependent. He fucks you missionary because he likes watching you cum and if you look past all obvious red flags *which I assure you I am an expert at* then he’s kinda perfect.
Okay lol I hope I answered your questions nonnie! Thank you for your request and for indulging me because this sparked more joy that it should have. *someone call Marie Kondo. ♥️♥️🙏
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No permission is granted to repost, translate, or steal my work. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.
Please read the warnings on each fic and proceed with caution. This is an 18+ only blog and I write with strong language, sexual themes, and explicit violence.
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Perfect - dark!Charles Blackwood x Reader x Sam Winchester
In which Charles and Sam are looking to settle down and you happen to walk into a brainwashed town.
The Letter T - Bucky Barnes x Reader
You and Bucky decide to update him on modern sexual trends and make a game out of it, but things get out of hand.
Willing or Not - dark!Andy Barber x Reader
Paris, France. The Louvre. A handsome stranger saving you. It was worthy of a romance novel.
Willing or Not (Sequel) - dark!Andy Barber x Reader
Andy didn't agree with your decision to go back to your life back home and leave him.
A collection of unrelated one shots with common themes.
dark!Reader Collection (Coming Soon)
Dark Wishes Collection (Coming Soon)
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Willing or Not (OneShot)
Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x Reader
Summary: Paris, France. The Louvre. A handsome stranger saving you. It was worthy of a romance novel.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY DARK!FIC!, con then dubcon (implied drugging/ implied forced captivity), mentions of marriage failures, explicit smut, loss of virginity, some light praise kink, corruption kink if you squint, mostly fluff tbh
A/N: Dedicated to @awesomerextyphoon who succeeded in luring me with fluffy smut plot with a dark undertone. I hope I did your idea some justice. Enjoy! Not edited. Not beta’ed. All mistakes are mine.
No permission is granted to repost, translate, or steal my work. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.
Paris, France was the immediate choice for you in your journey to finally taking control of your own life. You had been terribly sheltered from childhood, being an only child to your parents who struggled for years to have children. You were their precious baby girl. You never truly had a problem with it, raised to be grateful for whatever you were given and to follow the wisdom of your elders. You always believed that they had your best interest at heart. Even as you missed out on things your peers were experiencing, you didn’t mind.
You were driven to and from school until your university days, your father bidding you a good day and to be safe before driving off to work. Field Trips and sleepovers were the same, only if your mother was friends with their parents. Dates were few and far between where you were allowed but with a chaperone, your parents both telling you at the end that he wasn’t good enough for you. You still lived in your parent’s house even as you started your own career. This just felt natural for you.
You didn’t mind.
You didn’t actually feel like you had missed out. Your priority was always to make them proud. That was the truth until the divorce. Your parents divorced, to you, rather suddenly a few years after you had finished school. It was heartbreaking for you seeing two of the most important people in your life tear each other apart during the proceedings. You didn’t see it coming. They had wrapped you so tightly in bubble wrap and encased you in a glass cage that you hadn’t noticed any of the signs.
Your concern for your parents though was overshadowed when they started negotiating about custody of you. You were shocked to say the least. You were not a child. You were very much an adult. Hearing them talk about you almost as if you were property nauseated you; from who you would live with, visiting agreements, holidays, your bank accounts, your career path. Who were these people? They didn’t sound like your doting parents.
The most sobering was when they talked about your future marriage, specifically who would decide on the man you were to marry. You realize that you weren’t on the list of options in making that decision. A belated rush of rebellion then consumed you.
You distanced yourself from your parents, needing the space to be able to reassess your life. You moved out the following month and in the next you were already booked for the solo vacation of your dreams in the most romantic city in the world. Paris was perfect. You were intent on experiencing everything you had been deprived of during your two-month long stay.
It was during week 2 that you met Andy Barber.
It was your first time in the Louvre and you were understandably over enthusiastic. It came to a point that one of the guards was scolding you now. In French of course. You didn’t understand a single thing he said particularly since he was talking so fast and gesturing wildly. The way his voice was rising made your whole face burn with embarrassment, your head lowered and your eyes averted. Your palms felt sweaty as you fidgeted with the strap of your bag, willing the ground to just swallow you up or for anyone to save you from this mortification.
“There you are, honey,” a low melodic voice came up from behind you accompanied with a large warm hand on the small of your back.
You turned your head to look up at the man who had sidled up beside you, prepared to scream if he was a creep but thoroughly unprepared for how unnervingly attractive he was. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened slightly, his gentle smile down at you had you melting.
He turned to the guard then and spoke in the local language to him. He was fluent despite his thick Boston accent giving him away as a foreigner. You weren’t paying attention to what was being said, too mesmerized by the charm oozing out of your knight in shining armor. You couldn’t tell whether he pulled you in closer or it was you who leaned closer into his touch until you were snug against his side. Either way you happily basked in the warmth and protection he readily offered.
He suddenly turned to you with that same soft expression, waking you from your daydream. The guard had already long left. You moved to jump away from him as you realized how you were practically clinging to an absolute stranger, but the hand on your back kept you in place. Rather, it pressed you closer.
“You alright, Miss?” he asked and all you could do was nod. “Good. I had to lie and tell the guard we’re together so you might want to stick by me for a while. Come on.”
You didn’t fight it when he guided you around the museum, giving you little snippets of trivia about the pieces. You thought that he belonged there; intelligent, charismatic, authoritative, and with beauty that rivaled the art pieces. You didn’t fight it when his arm moved to settle on the curve of your hips, keeping you pressed against him. There was a strength in him that was reassuring and invited you to take refuge under it. You didn’t fight it when he told you he would take you to this little bistro two blocks from there that had the best Quiche Lorraine.
You felt like you were in a romantic movie or a meet cute imagine from one of your favorite fanfics. It was a moment of serendipity that brought you together in a foreign country at the oddest of circumstances. That was only the first of many dates. Andy insisted on taking you out every single day during your stay. He took you to many more of the little haunts he had discovered during his years of living in the city. He showed you the best places to take pictures and strolled down the most scenic walkways with you. All the while holding your hand, kissing your cheek, and affectionately watching you enjoy yourself.
He was an absolute prince.
He was so perfect and the whole thing felt like one of your beloved romance novels, books you had hidden under your clothes for fear of your mother saying they were improper. They were your guilty pleasure, a way to live and love without actually experiencing it. Now though you could say that you’ve experienced a whirlwind romance and it was beautiful.
A week before your return flight, you felt the urge for more. He was always a gentleman, but after the fifth date you started to feel his touch burn you differently. You felt his gaze and wished they would narrow with desire. You began wishing the usual kiss to your cheek would go lower, wanting to feel his beard against more sensitive skin. The fact that your stay was coming to an end emboldened you. The fact that you were trying to grab life by the horns propelled you to slot your lips against his when he leaned in for the usual chaste peck before dropping you off.
You panicked when you felt like he wasn’t reacting and moved to step away. This was a mistake. You shouldn’t have been so rash. He was probably just being indulgent of you, taking pity on a naïve girl on her first trip alone. God, you were so embarrassed.
All your doubts were pushed aside when his arms came around you and lifted you slightly off the ground to mold your whole body to his. His mouth coaxed your own to open as he deepened the kiss, groaning when you sighed into it. You wound your arms up his shoulders and your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue insisted on tasting you thoroughly. You both pulled away breathless much later. Damn, your prince could kiss.
“Do you wanna come up for some coffee?” Your words came out as barely a whisper, so unsure and scared of him possibly rejecting you. You both knew you actually didn’t mean coffee.
Andy cupped the back of your head to force your eyes to his and pecked the tip of your nose to calm you. “Are you absolutely sure, honey?”
You saw it in his eyes then that he wanted you, but he was letting it be your choice. For someone who has just realized that you’ve had very little choice in your life so far, it was both thrilling and comforting.
Andy wasted no time after that, practically dragging you into your temporary apartment while keeping his mouth and hands on any part of you he could reach. You tasted so good. You felt so good. He has only had a small taste and already he was addicted to you. He thanked whatever force pulled him to the museum that day that led him to meet you, such a sweet innocent girl in need of a savior. You immediately had him and you hadn’t even met his eyes at that point yet.
He’s wanted you since that first day, wanted all of you, but he didn’t want to scare you away. You were so perfect and so beautiful that he didn’t want to waste his shot. He knew already that you were the one. You were his second chance. Now that he had you in his arms, he never wanted to know the feeling of you not in them.
Now naked on the bed beneath him, he couldn’t help but take a moment to admire you. All the sights and art in the city couldn’t compare to how utterly enthralling you were. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumbs smoothing circles on your skin. It slid down your neck to the curve of your breast, gently rolling a hardened nub between his fingers. Goosebumps tickled your skin. Lower still it ventured from your waist to your stomach and your hips, relishing the feel of your skin against his. He smiled when you started to whimper. When it reached your thigh the grip got tighter and you gasped as he got closer to your now weeping core. Looking back up at you, he frowned when your arms moved to cover yourself and you chewed on your lip nervously.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, hoping you hadn’t changed your mind. He didn’t know what he would do with himself if you changed your mind.
“I haven’t done this before,” you muttered shyly.
His already raging hard on twitched at your admission. This would be your first time with any man and you had chosen him. You had chosen him to entrust your purity to. No other man has had this privilege and he was going to make sure no one else ever would. He swooped in to capture your lips in a heated kiss and forced your arms up over your head as he ground his cock against your thigh.
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he grunted against your lips. “I’m going to make you feel so good, honey. Please tell me you’re on the pill. I need to feel you.”
All you could do was nod. Words had seemed to escape you at this point and you were more than happy to just surrender yourself to him. He pulled lightly on your bottom lip with his teeth before trailing sloppy kisses down your neck that had you dizzy. When he sucked and bit just below your ear you moaned and your hips started to move on its own, searching for friction. He hummed in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
He lapped at your breasts, squeezing one in his large hand and sucking the pert tip into his mouth. Your back arched in shock, the sensation shocking you. He grew impatient, wanting to hear more of your pleasured ones and he knew just what to do to pull them out of you.
He nipped at the inside of your thighs, his tongue swirling on your skin. Closer. Closer. Closer to your throbbing core. You jolted when he blew on your bud and you felt yourself drip. You felt so embarrassed at having him look at you right there, but at the same time it just made you feel more aroused.
“You’re so beautiful, honey. Can I have a taste?”
He didn’t actually wait for an answer. The moment he actually closed his mouth on your sex, you felt like you were going to go insane with the pleasure. Each flick of his tongue sent jolts of electricity through you, leaving you panting and moaning his name. He groaned into your heat, praising you for tasting and sounding so good for him. When he slid a finger inside and then another, your hips were beginning to move erratically and his strong arm over you was the only thing keeping you in place.
You felt something build up inside you and the only reason you had any inkling of what it was because of your romance novels. The authors had described this coil that wound tighter and tighter until it snapped. It didn’t describe how torturous the build up was and that it would have you gripping his hair to pull him closer, begging him to grant you your release.
Andy loved how innocently responsive you were, as if you were just following whatever your body told you. He sucked your clit into his mouth and sped up his fingers. He felt you tightening and he just knew you were going to feel like heaven around his cock. A particularly hard suck brought you tumbling over the edge and he moaned as your taste flooded his mouth.
You were still trying to recover from your first orgasm, breathing ragged and eyes still unfocused, when he came up with his beard wet with your cum and a smug smirk on his face. He kissed you then, shocking you at first. He didn’t give you time to really think about how you tasted like on his tongue because he had already slotted himself between your spread thighs and was rubbing the head of his cock along your slippery folds. You shuddered and threw your head back.
“You ready, honey? It’s going to hurt for just a bit,” he whispered.
“Yes. I want this. I want you, Andy,” you said as firmly as you could, making a point to look into his eyes.
He smiled at you and kissed you again, this time much softer as he slowly slid into your heat. You tore your lips away as the burning stretch caused you to gasp and instinctively tighten around him. He shushed you gently, stroking your hair as he fully sheathed himself in you with a low groan. You felt like absolute heaven and he was struggling to hold himself back from pounding into you.
“You’re doing so good, honey. Just relax. Just breathe for me.”
Gradually, he began to move in and out of you. With each slow stroke you could feel every ridge and curve of his cock and it was feeding that fire inside you. He whispered praise into your ear, telling you how tight you were and how good you felt. That paired with his low voice in your ear and the way he rolled his hips was quickly making you delirious with bliss.
“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered.
The pain had long subsided and all you felt was the need to have him closer. Have him move faster. Have him harder. You squirmed and moaned, making him chuckle a bit at your eagerness. He answered your silent plea, already attuned to your body. He increased his pace, carefully keeping his eyes on you for any sign of discomfort.
God, you were perfect.
He hooked your leg up on his shoulders, the new angle making you both groan at how deep he was hitting you. One hand held the back of your head to keep your eyes on him while the other reached between you to rub at your clit. He pounded into you, his breath mixing with yours and your moans working a symphony. The sight of you slowly unraveling beneath him was enough to make Andy cum, but he held back. He wanted the reward of feeling you gush around his cock.
“Cum for me, honey. Cum around my cock please.”
Finally you shut your eyes, the sensations that racked your body too overwhelming for you to keep them open. You keened and he swallowed it with a kiss as he continued to rail into your shaking body. He chased his own release, the squelching noises with each thrust erotic to his ears. He emptied himself into you with a long low grunt.
It was a long time that you stayed in the same position, catching your breath and laughing as you stole kisses. He rolled to his side and took you with him, tucking you underneath his chin and wrapping his arms around you. You sighed in contentment.
“How are you feeling?”
“Incredible,” you admitted.
He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. “Good. You can use the bathroom first if you like. You wanna watch a movie and have some wine?”
“That sounds lovely. Will you stay the night?” you asked reluctantly.
“Do you want me to?”
“I wanna stay too,” he said, lifting your leg up to his hip and grinding on you. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Several more kisses were shared between you before he released you. In the bathroom, you couldn’t help but giddily smile to yourself despite the ache between your legs. You couldn’t have chosen a better man to give yourself to and you suspect that he might have already ruined you for other men.
Andy wrapped his lower half in a spare blanket as he made his way into your kitchen, not finding any difficulty in locating your wine and some glasses. He pulled out some snacks too. As he was setting it on the living room table, he caught sight of some papers on the side table. He picked it up out of curiosity.
It was your plane ticket home.
Realization sunk in for Andy then. You didn’t cancel your return flight. You were going to leave him next week. After all that time you spent together, you were still going to leave him. He saw a future with you, had actually began planning it out. Andy was in love with you and he thought that you felt the same way. This first time you spent together only solidified in his mind that you were the one for him.
He didn’t want anyone else.
Andy sighed as he walked back silently to the room to reach for the small vial of white powder in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out and toyed with it in his hand as he stared at the closed bathroom door, the sound of a shower running clear from behind it. He really wished that he didn’t have to go this route, but you left him no choice. He couldn’t let you walk away. You were his now.
Willing or not.
A/N: Am I doing a sequel to this? Maybe. I have some ideas. I could be tempted into doing it.
EDIT: There is now a sequel.
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𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
his perfect angel | summary: andy comforts you about your insecurities (daddy!andy x little!reader)
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I got some major Professor!Andy thots from this gif so allow me to share with you all.
Professor!Andy x F!Reader; 18+ only. DubCon. Dark! Teacher/Student. Blackmail.
Professor!Andy is really disappointed that your grades have been slipping.
“I don’t understand how one of my best students could let her school work slide, all for some co-ed cock.” He says with a hard tone. The way his eyes travel the length of your body makes you cross your arms in a vain attempt of safety.
“I bet it wasn’t even that good. Probably a one pump chump but you’re too innocent to know the difference between a boy and a man.”
You wince at the crassness of his words, but he was right. You had let your silly crush get out of control and all for some subpar sex that left you unfulfilled.
Disappointed made your belly sour and you were unsure how to make amends and be back in your Professors good graces.
Andy stands from his seat then and stalks silently over to your cowering form. He bends over placing a hand on either side of your chair, effectively caging you in. “You’ll need nightly sessions to get caught up with the curriculum and to make up for the disrespect you showed me.”
The way his head tilts like a lion watching it’s caught prey had chills running up your spine. Warm fingers graze your jaw before grasping your chin in a tight hold, “You gonna be good from now on? Do everything I tell you?”
You were drowning in your fearful thoughts, unsure of what to say when Andy moved your head up and down like a puppet. “Yes, Professor.” he spoke the words slowly like he was teaching a child.
Embarrassment made your cheeks burn but you had no other choice, “Yes, Professor.”
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Pairing: Andy Barber x Female!Reader
Word Count: 18,454 (🙈)
Summary: From the moment you first met, Andy Barber had a hold over you, and even though you knew you should stay away, that he was bad news, you just couldn’t help yourself.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Unprotected sex. Oral sex (f receiving). Cum play. Praise kink. Breeding kink. Bad boy kink. Dub con. Non con touching. Threats of rape and murder. Panic attack. Reference to drug use and overdose. Biker!Andy Barber. Sweet Nurse!Reader. Biker gang elements like violence, murder, and reference to trafficking guns. AU. NSFW. Dark fic. 18+ only
A/N: Whew boy. This is my 2nd entry for my 5K Soft Dark Challenge and oh em gee, was this one was an experience. I hope you enjoy it. Also just a reminder that I am not a medical professional and get all my “knowledge” from watching Chicago Med and googling, so liiike don’t at me for bad medical plot devices or a lack of actual plot, let’s be real, lolol. 🤷🏻♀️
You catch the eye of someone dangerous.
“You just won the wrong place, wrong time Olympics, sweetheart.”
Bad boy kink + Praise kink + Breeding Kink
P.S. Also I made this moodboard I am in love with like ahgowijfaoiejw okay love you byyye ✌🏻
There were a lot of things that were new in your life.
Living in the town of Newton, Massachusetts. Well, maybe on the edge of it was more accurate.
Your job as an Emergency Department nurse at the local hospital.
The sweet little bungalow you were renting to own and couldn’t wait to flip once you had more savings.
But something that wasn’t new?
The complete and utter exhaustion you felt after working a double shift.
It had been a long time since you worked a double, let alone a double as crazy as the one you’d just survived. Barely.
And the absolute last thing you wanted to do on your drive home at half-past midnight was stop at the store.
But your milk definitely did not pass the sniff test yesterday when you went to make your tea before work, and you didn’t have energy for anything more than a bowl of cereal kind of dinner once you got home, so…
You pulled into the parking lot of the Qwik Mart a few minutes from your house with a weary sigh.
Too tired to realize just how lively it was this time of night, you didn’t notice the small congregation of bikers taking up the parking spots right outside of the store entrance until you were almost on them.
Your steps faltered as you eyed the intimidating group of men, all of them wearing black leather jackets and lounging on their bikes as they talked and laughed. A few of them were smoking, and a couple of others clutched brown paper bags with glass bottles peeking out of the top.
Most of them looked in their 30s, save the oldest of the group, bald and pushing mid-50s, and the youngest of the group, who barely looked 20.
Despite your exhaustion, you noticed that there were five men but six motorcycles, the biggest and most impressive of the bikes planted in the middle of the group but empty of an occupant. Your eyes were lingering on the black and chrome beast when the group of men finally noticed you.
You picked up your pace, not wanting to linger or show them how nervous you were--because you worked with enough scary patients over the years to know that showing even a hint of fear could be an invitation to something unpleasant--so you averted your gaze to the ground in front of you and continued on your way.
Until the youngest of the group spoke.
“Must be our lucky night, boys. Sweet little kitty’s come out to play,” he drawled. “Why don’t you come over here, kitten, and let me give you a ride on my big, fat hog?”
Although you weren’t one to wilt and cower so easily, you also weren’t stupid enough to mouth off to a bunch of bikers who could easily murder you and hide the body, and yet…
Your brain to mouth filter must have been non-existent due to your burnout, because you were sniping back at him before you could stop yourself.
“Doesn’t look all that big to me,” you snapped, shooting him an unimpressed look. “Why don’t you come and find me once you’re on the other side of puberty?”
There was a moment of absolute silence, and then the men surrounding the youngest of their crew--who was shooting you a sneer so venomous that you took a step back--erupted into loud, raucous laughter.
“Mouthy little bitch,” he huffed, swinging his leg over his bike and stalking your way, but the guy next to him--the biggest of the bunch--grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket and yanked him back into place.
“Bryce, relax,” he murmured, his voice quiet but authoritative. He was tall and lean, dark facial hair covering his pale features and a black beanie pulled low over his forehead.
“Aw, come on, Curtis, she’s just askin’ for it,” the younger man huffed, shooting you another sneer.
You swallowed, apprehensive as Curtis gave you an appraising look. It was more than a man’s interest he was aiming your way, there was also a spark of respect in his gaze as his lips twitched in amusement.
“Better run along before you cause any more trouble,” he advised.
You nodded, scurrying into the Qwik Mart and heading straight to the dairy section to grab your milk.
At this point, you weren’t even hungry any more, or tired, the adrenaline coursing through your body at the confrontation from a moment ago making you feel wide awake as you silently berated yourself for just how stupid that had been.
Mindlessly grabbing your favorite candybar, you started toward the cash register to pay, waiting in line behind another customer as you kept your gaze on your feet to avoid the impulse to look outside to see if the bikers were still there, still watching you.
A sudden movement broke you from your thoughts as you watched a folded wad of cash hit the floor in front of you.
Frowning you glanced up to find the man ahead of you juggling his wallet and a pair of sunglasses before tucking his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. He had no idea he was missing what looked like a sizable chunk of change as he swiped his purchase from the counter with a quiet thanks and strode outside.
Sighing, you grabbed the cash from the floor, quickly paying for your purchase and hanging your shopping bag on your wrist as you hurried outside to catch up with the stranger.
“Excuse me, sir!” you called as you pushed through the door, the bell overhead jingling--a delightful taunt--as the door swung shut behind you just as you realized the stranger you were chasing down was the absent biker rejoining his group.
Shit, you thought fleetingly, but he was already turning your way, and you pulled up short just in front of him.
His soft, musky scent invaded your senses, the hint of sandalwood making your brain foggy as your eyes inched up his broad chest--which looked impressively firm beneath his thin, grey t-shirt--and finally landed on his face.
It was a face so beautiful you couldn’t have conjured it in your wildest dreams, but fuck if you wouldn’t have tried.
Pale, flawless skin. The dark shadow of a well trimmed beard. A perfectly plump bow of a mouth. A jawline so sharp it looked cut from marble. And the bluest eyes you had ever seen framed by lashes so full and pretty you felt envy stir in your gut as you blinked up at him, dazed.
“Sir?” he echoed. His voice was a quiet hum sprinkled with enough husk that you were shivering in response as you felt your nipples peak with interest. “I like the sound of that, especially coming from you.”
Your breath hitched--quietly--but you knew he heard it by the way his nostrils flared and his eyes flashed with something primal, and promising. His gaze flickered to your lips as your tongue snuck out to wet them nervously and lingered on your mouth before he spoke again.
“Something I can help you with, sweetheart?” he asked, turning toward you more fully now.
The purr of that pet name from him--directed at you--had your brain momentarily short circuiting, and once it rebooted, the only thing you could focus on was his proximity.
The fact that he was so close you could feel his body heat overtaking yours, merging with the too warm sensation already blanketing the rest of you in response to this devastatingly handsome stranger.
The attraction was instant, intense, and something you had never experienced before, and it was throwing you for a loop.
“I...you,” you stuttered, unable to string together words that made sense as you drowned in that dark blue gaze of his. Glancing away, you inhaled shakily, feeling the haze in your mind clear ever so slightly as you finally told him, “You dropped this.”
When you held up the wad of money, his eyes widened, lips parting to emphasize his surprise. And then his gaze was dancing over your face--intent--as you shyly met that intense stare head on once more.
Slowly taking the money from your grip, his rough fingers dragged against your soft skin, making you shudder.
“Why’d you give it back?” he asked, brow furrowed like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
It was your turn to frown. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He blinked, and then he was grinning as a quiet laugh huffed out of him, and your belly somersaulted wildly as a wave of warmth and affection for this complete stranger flooded through you at the sound.
“Well aren’t you an honest little angel,” he hummed, tucking the money into his back pocket as he continued to watch you.
As his gaze dipped lower, you could feel the heat of it on your bare shoulder where your cardigan had shifted down your arm due to the weight of your shopping bag tugging on your sleeve.
And suddenly you were overcome by this insane wish--a desire so strong it felt like a need--for him to reach out and trail those rough fingers of his over your bare skin, tease along the line of your bra strap, and drag his knuckles up the side of your neck...
Your face burned as his gaze slowly lifted back to yours, and by the time your eyes met--and held for a long, silent beat--your panties were thoroughly ruined.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice dipping low enough to make you wonder if he knew the effect he was having on you.
Another long, tense moment of just looking at each other, basking in the dark, sinful gaze of another, then--
“Jesus, what’s the hold up? She mouthing off to you, too?” a familiar voice called out.
You visibly startled as the stranger raised a brow in question, a smirk curling his lips as he turned and glanced between you and the group of men behind him.
“Something I’m missing here?” he asked.
Under the weight of their collective gaze, the spell was broken, and you felt that fear from earlier stir in your belly, the shadow of your former exhaustion hovering close behind.
And just like that, your double shift--and this long, strange evening--was catching up to you, and it was time to leave.
“I should get going,” you whispered, shooting him a nervous smile before stepping around him and hurrying to your car.
Your heart was beating so fast it echoed in your ears, blocking out whatever hooting and hollering the bikers were throwing your way, but the one thing you couldn’t ignore?
The one thing you were painfully, thrillingly aware of?
The heat of his gaze, and the way it burned you up from the inside out every single step of your retreat.
Although the handsome stranger from a couple nights ago had barely left your mind since the encounter, you certainly didn’t expect to see him when you walked into the ED for your next shift.
But there he was, a fellow biker on either side of his broad frame, as they faced off with a handful of security guards who were blocking the doors between the waiting area and the emergency department.
“We wanna see him,” the man you remembered as Curtis gritted, pale face shadowed with rage as his fists clenched at his sides. “No one’s told us anything since we brought him in.”
“It’s been over an hour, and nothing,” your stranger piped up, looking just as tense as his comrades.
You swallowed nervously, your gaze traveling past the tense standoff to land on your friend, and fellow nurse, Claire. She was peeping through the little glass window on the other side of the ED doors, her gaze wide and anxious.
Your gaze shifted from her face to the broad back of your stranger and the worn, black leather jacket that hugged his frame. It was emblazoned with the terrifying, leering face of the devil, and you knew you should have been just as scared as Claire looked, but it wasn’t fear that stirred to life in your belly, it was curiosity, and something warm and wanting.
“Look, there’s no need for that,” the blonde biker on your stranger’s other side said. His voice was calm and hinged on friendly as he held up his big hands in a gesture of peace.
But that only made Kyle, the head of security, reach for his gun.
The words were leaving your lips before you realized you were speaking, your feet pulling you closer to the confrontation.
“Kyle, what’s going on?”
He blinked as you edged around the bikers, your gaze nervous but unwavering as it bounced between the bikers and security guards.
“They’re causing trouble.”
“We just want an update on our friend,” Curtis snarled. “Everyone else out here has talked to a doctor or someone except us,” he waved his arm around the waiting room.
You glanced around at the other people, shocked to find most of them avoiding the drama like the plague. Your gaze lingered on the black leather jackets all three bikers wore, before the stranger in the middle--the man you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for the past two days--met your gaze.
Recognition sparked in his eyes before they were flickering over your scrubs and sneakers, then the employee badge clipped to your hip identifying you as a nurse. “Our friend OD’d and we haven’t heard anything since we brought him in, can you help?”
“Yes,” you answered instantly, ignoring the irritated huff of Kyle as his hand fell away from the butt of his gun.
It was worth it though, your quick acquiesce, just to see the way the beautiful stranger’s face softened, his eyes shining with relief and gratitude and something else--something warm--that had you inching closer to him as if drawn in by some kind of magnetic force.
“What’s his name?” you asked quietly, staring up into those baby blues and noticing flecks of green in their depths.
You liked the way he met and held your gaze, unwavering, as he replied just as quietly, “Mike Weiss.”
The moment stretched on, silent as something palpable rose up between you two, closing in around you both like your own little bubble as you and this man just watched each other, unable not to.
And then Curtis was sighing his irritation so loudly, it made you jump.
Feeling the heat of your embarrassment flood your face, you nodded quickly, offering a small smile as you glanced between the three bikers and took a step back. “Give me a few minutes, I’ll be right back.”
You turned to find Kyle a few feet behind you, corralling his fellow security guards to the side, all three of them looking displeased as you joined them.
“Don’t give me that look,” you murmured, “You should have been de-escalating the situation in a room full of people, not provoking them even more.”
“Do you know who they are?” Kyle huffed, giving you a look of disbelief.
“They’re visitors to a patient in our care and they deserve just as much respect and consideration as anyone else in here,” you replied firmly.
Kyle opened his mouth to rebut, but you dropped a hand to your hip.
“I know how fond you are of Freebie Fridays, Kyle, and I make sure to get extra snacks for you and your department, so I would choose your next words very carefully.”
Another huff, but quieter this time, and after a beat, Kyle was grinning at you. “You play dirty.”
You smiled back at him, “I gotta use what’s at my disposal, you know what I mean? Please don’t stir up any trouble while I’m gone.”
The guards stepped back, gesturing you forward. As you pushed through the ED doors, you glanced back over your shoulder, already feeling his gaze before you met it head on, your belly swooping at the soft look and interest shining at you before you were ducking out of sight.
You checked on Mike yourself, getting the rundown of his heroin overdose from Dr. Ramirez and making sure he was stable before returning to the waiting room to update his friends.
You found them in the far corner--everyone else giving them a wide berth--Curtis stopping mid-pace and the other two rising from their seats at the sight of you.
“He’s stable now,” you told them, watching as the tension eased from three sets of broad shoulders at your words. “Narcan was administered to help counter the effects of the overdose and we have him hooked up to a saline drip to help him rehydrate while he rests. He should stay overnight for observation, and then, barring any complications, he can discuss release and addiction treatment options with the doctor tomorrow.”
The men shared a look, the stranger whose name you still didn’t know clapping the blonde biker on the shoulder. “Jensen, call the others and give them an update.”
“You got it, boss,” Jensen nodded, flashing you a grateful smile as he fished his phone from his pocket and ducked outside to make the call.
And then suddenly you were under two intense gazes.
Curtis spoke first, “I remember you, the mouthy little troublemaker from outside the market the other night.”
Your smile was abashed as you shrugged. “Not my finest moment, but you were catching me on the other side of a double shift so…”
“You think you can get us back there to see Mike?” he asked, gaze flickering to the ED doors.
“Sure, once he’s awake, but only if you promise to be on your best behavior.”
You weren’t sure what made you tease him like that, like you were familiar, or friends, but something in his eyes sparkled at the taunt, and he was chuckling low as he leaned close.
“Don’t think I have that mode,” he murmured, straightening suddenly as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. The amusement in his eyes shined brighter as his comrade gave him an annoyed look.
The two men stared at each other for a long, tense beat, some kind of silent conversation taking place before your eyes, and then Curtis was full out grinning.
“Guess I should go check on Jensen,” he drawled, shooting you a wink before sauntering outside.
And then one lone biker stood before you, his gaze fixed on you and attentive.
“Thank you,” he murmured, stepping closer as his eyes flickered over your fitted scrubs. “An honest little angel and a nurse, huh?”
You offered your name as his gaze realigned with yours. “You could just call me that.” You held out your hand for a shake.
He stared at your hand, glancing between it and your face as something in his features softened, like he was charmed by you for some reason. “Andy,” he replied.
He slid his big hand against yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, and you both just stood there for a long moment, staring at each other, hands no longer shaking but holding as the strange but now familiar tension between you mounted quickly.
And then Claire was calling your name from the ED doors and gesturing you over.
Feeling your face warm, you gave a quiet laugh, tugging your hand from Andy’s. “Nice to meet you, Andy, wish it was under better circumstances.”
“I dunno,” he shrugged, tucking his hands into his jean pockets as he tilted his head and watched you. “Silver lining and all that.”
You opened your mouth to reply but then Claire was clearing her throat, loud and obnoxious enough that you actually cringed, throwing her an annoyed look over your shoulder before directing an apologetic smile at Andy.
“Sorry, I need to get back to work. I’ll come find you if there are any updates on Mike or once he’s awake so you can visit.”
“I appreciate that,” Andy murmured, watching as you turned and hustled back into the ED, Claire hot on your heels.
“What is your problem?” you hissed at her, squawking your indignation as Claire grabbed your arm and pulled you into the breakroom.
“Do you know who that is?” she demanded, hands dropping to her hips.
“He said his name is Andy,” you huffed, taken aback by her scandalized tone.
“Yeah, Andy Barber. He’s the DA.”
You blinked, confused and mildly surprised. “He’s the District Attorney?”
“Jesus Christ,” Claire groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead. “I keep forgetting how new you are around here. He’s the leader of the Devil’s Advocates. The local gang? They’re dangerous. You need to stay away from him.”
The thought alone made you tense, and you hugged yourself without thinking, trying to soothe the sudden distress at the idea of staying away from Andy Barber, even though you barely knew him.
“I dunno,” you hesitated, frowning at your friend. “He seems nice enough.”
“Nice?” Claire scoffed, her eyes nearly bugging from her head. “His father is rotting away in prison for rape and murder!”
Your eyes widened at the bit of intel.
Claire nodded, “See?”
Sighing, you glanced away, feeling stubborn at this line of questioning, this warning from someone who you knew was only trying to help.
“We don’t even know him,” you murmured. “He could be nothing like his father.”
You knew it was absurd for you to defend this stranger, this apparently dangerous man that you didn’t even know, and the look Claire was giving you right now told you she was thinking the same thing, but you couldn’t help it.
It was like some strange, unbidden reflex--this irrational connection and loyalty--that you felt for Andy Barber.
“I’m telling you,” Claire persisted, shaking her head. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree with that one. His father ran the gang before him, and now he’s following in daddy dearest’s footsteps.”
When you didn’t rush to agree with her, Claire rolled her eyes. “God you’re naive,” she muttered, moving past you toward the door. “Whatever, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She gave you one final incredulous look before pushing back out into the ED and leaving you staring after her, a little confused and very intrigued by one Andy Barber.
Your shift flew by and as you pushed your way through the doors and out into the waiting room--toward the exit--you were both tired but then pleasantly surprised to find Andy and Curtis still sitting in the corner, talking quietly.
They must have been deep in their conversation, because neither noticed you, and you were able to catch a bit of their discussion as you drew near.
“I’m telling you, Loguidice is doing more than just trying to press in on our territory,” Curtis shook his head. “There’s been murmurings he’s trying to align with the Bloody Thorns to run guns.”
Andy sighed, “We shook hands with the Thorns years ago, we’re their go to, they’re not gonna fuck us over for the East Street Gang,” he said the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth.
You cleared your throat, hovering close by, smile small but genuine when both men glanced your way.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Andy greeted, instantly rising to his feet, worry furrowing his brow. “Is Mike okay?”
“He’s fine,” you were quick to put him at ease. “Sorry, I just...was on my way out and...wanted to say goodbye?”
You felt shy speaking your intention out loud, realizing just then that you wouldn’t have done this if they--if he--were anyone else. Your ridiculous behavior had you glancing away, low key mortified at yourself as you shifted your weight.
Jesus, what was wrong with you?
“Sorry,” you cringed as you finally looked at both of them, the heat in your face blooming hotter under Curtis’ mischievous, knowing smirk. “I dunno why I even came over here--”
“Think I know why,” he snorted.
“No, I’m glad you did,” Andy answered at the same time. He shot Curtis a dark look before he was stepping closer and blocking you from the other man’s gaze. “You got a ride home?”
“Yeah, I drove here,” you swallowed, trying not to inhale too greedily at the hint of that musky, warm scent rising up around you. “My car’s just outside, across the lot.”
“Let me walk you out,” Andy said.
“Oh no, you don’t have to, really I shouldn’t have bothered you--”
“You’re not bothering me,” he ducked his head, until his eyes were catching yours head on. “I want to. You good with that?”
“I,” you blinked, because yes, you were so good with that. “Sure.”
His full lips twitched into the beginning of a smile, and then Andy’s hand was hovering over the small of your back as he guided you to the exit.
You spared Curtis a wave before allowing Andy to lead you outside, pointing out the direction of your car and keeping your gait slow to prolong your time with him.
“You’re new in town, aren’t you?” he asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” you asked, peering over at him.
He smirked, meeting your questioning gaze. “I’ve lived here my whole life, sweetheart, know just about everyone, or of them at least…” His eyes warmed as he watched you. “‘Cept you.”
“I haven’t been here that long,” you told him. “Barely two months. It was a really good job offer, so...here I am.”
“Just you?” Andy asked. “Or you got a husband or someone waiting for you at home?”
Your belly did that wild somersaulting thing again at his fishing, and you had to look away, biting on your lower lip to stifle the ridiculous smile that was threatening to break free.
You laughed at Andy’s quick reply. “My loneliness pleases you?”
You stopped as you reached your car, tugging your jacket tighter around you as you shivered.
Andy’s grin was small but warm as he watched you, not stopping his steps till he was looming closer, warming you up with his body heat. “I'm starting to think there’s lots about you that could please me...and vice versa.”
His forwardness had your heart skipping a beat as your mouth dropped over in surprise, Andy laughing at the quiet little squeak that sounded from the back of your throat.
“You don’t even know me,” you whispered, breath hitching as Andy stepped closer, until you were stepping back, the cold press of your car ending your retreat before it even started.
“Like what I know so far,” Andy breathed, leaning forward and planting a hand against the hood of your car. “And I wanna know more. I’m pretty sure you feel the same way about me.”
He shifted impossibly close, his front pressing against yours, lips quirking as you shuddered and struggled to meet his gaze.
Andy’s fingers were gentle as they touched beneath your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes locked. “That right, sweetheart? Or am I wrong? Just imagining it? Wishful thinking, maybe?”
You couldn’t help but smile at the teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re not wrong.”
“I rarely am,” Andy smirked, his head slowly dipping closer, his eyes flickering to your mouth as you laughed.
Your laugh turned into a gasp as Andy’s lips hovered just above yours, his knuckles gently smoothing down the slope of your neck, making you shiver in delight as goosebumps sprung up all along your skin.
“Thank you for helping us out today, with Mike,” Andy murmured, tilting his head a fraction, his nose brushing yours.
“I didn’t really do anything,” you whispered, eyes fluttering as Andy’s touch drew back up your neck, along your jaw, until his thumb was resting against your chin, tugging your lips apart and--
He was kissing you.
Andy Barber was kissing you.
It was slow and searing, his lips a hot, firm press against yours, learning the taste and feel of you before he was deepening the kiss and his tongue was sweeping into your mouth, tangling with yours.
You moaned deep in your throat, your hands sliding up Andy’s chest to clutch at his shoulders as you reared up against him, kissing him back eagerly as that want you’d been feeling deep in your center since the first night you met him flared to life and flooded through your body, desperate and relentless.
You whimpered as Andy’s addictive taste flooded your senses, curling your arms around his neck and holding on for dear life as he pushed you back against your car and kissed you like he’d been waiting forever and a day to do so.
One big hand gently cupped your face, keeping you angled the way he wanted as the other fell to your hip, shaking your jacket away until he could feel the curve of your waist. His fingers pressed between your shirt and pants, seeking skin, and you swallowed his hum of satisfaction when he found it.
Only when your frantic kisses turned to greedy pants for air did Andy pull away, but he lingered close, pressing his forehead to yours as he stared into your wide eyes, looking just as flabbergasted as you felt.
“Oh Curtis was right,” he murmured at last. “You are trouble, aren’t you?”
“No I’m not,” you pouted, fingers teasing the soft, dark hair at the nape of Andy’s neck.
He laughed. “I wanna see you again. Away from here.”
Andy looked amused by your quick reply. “You do know who I am, right?”
It was your turn to be amused. “The big scary biker everyone keeps warning me away from?”
“Can’t say they’re wrong,” Andy drawled, his dark eyes twinkling as he caressed your warm cheek with his knuckles. “I should probably leave you alone. Shouldn’t be spending my time corrupting sweet little angels like you, but fuck if I don’t wanna taste you again. Hear what you sound like when I’m splitting you open with my cock for the first time…”
“Jesus,” you whimpered, shivering as you dropped your face and buried it against Andy’s chest. You felt his quiet laugh rumble through him as you pressed your thighs together to stem the gush of arousal flooding your panties.
“You want it too, don’t you?” he husked against your ear, his beard scraping your temple as he shifted and tugged you against him, one big hand sliding down your back and lingering on the swell of your ass.
You gasped as he rocked against you, feeling his hardness pressing against your belly. “Yeah,” you whispered, fingers clawing at Andy’s arms as you resisted the urge to rut against him just as eagerly. “I want it. Want you.”
“Good.” Andy’s voice was a pleased purr as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before stepping away. His hands framed your hips as you shyly tipped your head back to meet his dark, lustful gaze. “Glad we’re on the same page, sweetheart.”
You met him halfway as he leaned in for another kiss, this one brief but still filled with all the passion and desire from moments before.
“I need to get back,” Andy sighed as he pulled away. His hand cupped your face as he just watched you for a beat, thumb brushing along the apple of your cheek as he straightened. “There’s a pub across town, on Lylock street. Jo’s. It’s our place, I’m there a lot at night. You should stop by on your next night off.”
“Okay,” you nodded, smile tired but happy at the invitation as your hands fell away from Andy’s sides.
He gave you another soft smile. “You look exhausted, sweetheart, go home and get some rest. I’ll see you real soon.” Another quick peck to your lips, and then he was stepping away and watching as you disabled your car alarm, opened the door, and slipped inside.
You started the engine and lowered your window, giving Andy one final smile and a quiet, “Goodnight.”
“I’ll say,” he tossed back, grinning as you laughed.
Giving him one final fleeting look, you put your car in reverse and started your drive home.
Jo’s Pub wasn’t too far from your house, but it was in a part of town you usually wouldn’t go to by yourself, especially at night.
However it seemed like when it came to Andy Barber, self-preservation and logic went right out the window for you, especially when you remembered that kiss.
How the hot press of his lips against yours turned your knees to jelly and lit you up like a firework. The way the firmness of his body had molded so perfectly against the softness of yours. How gentle his big, rough hands had been as he cradled your face and guided your mouth against his.
You could barely contain your excitement to see him again as you walked down the street, away from your parked car and closer to Jo’s Pub.
You were nearly beneath the old, lit up sign that swung overhead when you heard a pained grunt come from the alley just beyond the building.
It was stupid walking past the bar and toward the alley, you knew this, your brain was screaming it at you, but the obligation to check to see if someone was hurt and needed help was ingrained in your DNA and overode the logic that you didn’t have much of at the moment anyway.
Another groan of distress and a second low grumbling voice greeted you as you peeked around the corner of the building and into the dimly lit alleyway.
It took you a moment to process what you were seeing...
Andy’s blonde friend, the biker named Jensen, struggling against another man who was just as tall and wide as him. His hair was long and stringy, big glasses sliding down his nose as he grabbed Jensen by the throat and slammed him into the brick wall.
His free hand gripped a wicked looking knife, and you watched in horror as he plunged it into Jensen’s stomach and twisted.
Jensen choked on a scream, grappling wildly with the other man as you darted closer, picked up an old, rusted pipe from beside the overflowing dumpster, and swung it as hard as you could at the scary knife wielding stranger.
He grunted at the impact of your hit, but barely staggered, his head whipping around and his light blue eyes glowing with a strange mixture of delight and menace as he spotted you.
Your arms were still shaking from the hit, your eyes wide as you took a shaky step back as the man released Jensen and turned his full attention to you.
Just beyond the big, terrifying stranger, you could see Jensen panting and doubled over, holding a hand to his gut as blood flowed from his wound quick and steady until it was coating his fingers.
And then he was blocked from your view altogether as the man with the knife cornered you between the dumpster and the filthy brick wall.
You squeaked as he plucked the pipe from your trembling hands and tossed it behind him, jumping at the loud clatter it made as he slowly closed the distance between you.
His hand was warm and rough as it circled your throat, gentler than you thought someone who looked like him would be capable of, and just tight enough to make you gasp and squirm against him, terrified.
“You just won the wrong place, wrong time Olympics, sweetheart,” he rasped, eyes bright and glittering with ill intent as they flickered over you. As his gaze drifted lower, to your sweet little dress and denim jacket, he touched his tongue to his teeth, chuckling low. “But me? I just hit the fucking jackpot.”
“She’s...Andy’s girl,” Jensen gasped, staggering closer and then groaning in pain as he fell into the wall a few yards away, breathing heavy. “He’s gonna fucking kill you if you hurt her, Pronge!”
The man named Pronge laughed his delight, eyeing you with a new fire in his eyes as his fingers gripped your throat harder. “Even better, that smug prick needs to be taken down a peg or two.”
You whimpered as Pronge swooped in close, dragging his nose along your cheek, your hand surreptitiously dipping into the purse at your hip and rifling around.
“Not sure what I want to taste more,” Pronge hummed against your jaw, giving your skin a harsh nip. “That sweet honey between your legs or,” he drew out the word, his knife suddenly at your neck and dragging down, leaving a trail of Jensen’s blood, before pressing hard enough to draw a bead of your own. “This.”
Pronge lowered his face, tongue dragging over your skin and licking the blood from your neck, his groan lewd as he shoved a thick thigh between your legs.
At the sound of your distressed cry, Jensen tried to move closer. “Pronge, you sick fuck!” he gritted. He gasped in pain as he doubled over in agony before finally hitting the ground altogether with a groan.
Your frantic gaze fell to him, worried he was losing too much blood too quickly, even as Pronge nuzzled along your neck before giving it a squeeze so tight your frightened eyes flew to him.
“Forget him,” he growled, giving you a shake. “He’ll be dead soon enough, and you’ll be joining him...once I’ve had my fun.”
He tucked his knife into the back of his jeans before his hand was groping down your body, intent on its destination between your thighs.
“Don’t!” you cried, eyes filling with tears as you searched in your purse until you felt what you were looking for.
You yanked it free, thumb flipping the safety cap up before you were closing your eyes, turning away, and spraying Pronge in the face with your pocket pepper spray.
“Fuck!” he hissed, instantly releasing you as he shouted in pain.
Your eyes blinked open, going wide as you watched him careen into the dumpster, frantically wiping at his face with his shirt sleeves, and then he was turning back toward you with a snarl.
“I’m gonna snap your fucking neck, you little cunt!”
You screamed as he lunged at you, two loud pops making your ears ring as Pronge hissed another curse and weaved away from you. Another loud pop had Pronge fleeing the alley altogether, and you blinked after him, confused, until you turned your gaze to Jensen.
The gun was already slipping from his hand as his concerned gaze found you. “You’re okay?” he wheezed.
You nodded, your “Thank you,” shaky and filled with tears as you darted toward him.
“Good, that’s good,” Jensen groaned, sagging back against the ground, the hand pressed to his stomach sliding away and dropping to his side.
You fell to your knees beside him, shrugging off your jacket and folding it up. “This is gonna hurt, I’m so sorry,” you told him before pressing your jacket over his wound and applying as much pressure as you could.
Jensen’s scream was muffled behind his gritted teeth, but you didn’t even get another comforting word out before the nearby metal door burst open and a flood of familiar figures was pouring out, guns drawn and at the ready.
The relief you felt when your eyes met Andy’s shook through you so hard you almost lost your grip on stemming Jensen’s wound. “Andy,” your voice broke, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your cheeks as he drew near.
He was beside you in an instant, tucking his gun away as his hand slid against your face, eyes falling to the blood and bruises already forming on your neck. “What happened?”
“Pronge,” Jensen murmured, his bright blue eyes blinking slowly behind his glasses before closing as he went limp.
“He needs a hospital,” you told Andy. “Now.”
And just like that, the other bikers were converging, gently nudging you aside as they lifted their fallen brother and carried him from the alley.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Andy said, helping you to your feet and hugging you to his side as you wept and pressed as close to him as you could get. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head as he guided you along behind the procession of his crew. “I’ve got you.”
If you had been more with it, more yourself, you probably would have marveled at how strange it was to be at the hospital but not in the middle of all the action.
But at the moment, all you could do was stare down at the dried blood that coated your hands. Your dress. It was everywhere.
Jensen’s blood was everywhere.
You blinked back the tears stinging your eyes, fingers twisting until you realized that was only making the dried blood flake and make even more of a mess.
Your stomach churned at the sight, the smell, and you felt dirty, desperate to shower and wash away every trace of this awful night.
Shivering despite the weight and warmth of Andy’s jacket draped over your shoulders, you blinked back into awareness at the sound of his voice.
“That’s good then, right?” he was asking the doctor, Curtis and Mike hovering close behind him.
“He’s stable but he’s not out of the woods yet,” a doctor you didn’t know explained. “He’ll likely be in the ICU for a few days at least so we can monitor him closely, but for now, this is good news. Your friend is very lucky to be alive. If you didn’t get to him when you did...” the doctor trailed off, shaking his head. “Well, just be happy it seems like your friend had someone or something looking out for him tonight.” Nodding at the bikers, he turned and retreated back into the ED.
Andy’s gaze found you, warm and heavy even from across the waiting room, and you felt that familiar ping of awareness zip up your spine as your eyes met his.
“His very own guardian angel,” Andy hummed, turning toward you as Curtis and Mike shared a look.
Before Andy could reach you though, a stranger was standing over you, speaking your name with the kind of quiet authority that had you feeling like you’d done something wrong even though you hadn’t.
“What?” you blinked, your mind still hazy from fear and exhaustion as the woman loomed over you.
“I’m Detective Duffy, I’d like to get a statement from you on what happened tonight.”
“Oh,” you swallowed, fidgeting under the woman’s hard stare. “I--”
“Detective,” Andy’s smooth voice intervened and suddenly he was at your side, his hand a comforting weight on your shoulder as he met the detective’s narrowed gaze without flinching. “It’s been a long night and I was just about to take her home.”
Detective Duffy’s eyes shifted to you, fixed and stubborn. “It’s imperative that I get a statement from you while everything is still fresh.”
“She’s exhausted,” Andy argued, his fingers flexing on your shoulder and making you shiver. “I'm sure she’ll be able to give you everything you need once she’s gotten a good night’s sleep.” The detective opened her mouth, but Andy spoke over her. “Unless you find it helpful harassing victims to get what you want?”
The look Detective Duffy gave Andy was so sour you dropped your gaze to your feet, anxiety pulsing through you at their standoff.
“That’s rich, coming from you,” the detective snapped. Sighing, she reached into her jacket pocket, digging out a business card and holding it out to you, glaring when Andy swiped it from her fingers instead. “Call me tomorrow morning so we can set up a time to talk.”
“Will do,” Andy hummed before turning his attention to you and crouching down beside you.
With another quiet huff, the detective left, and you watched her go, until you felt warm fingers grip your chin, and suddenly Andy was all you could see.
“Let’s get you home,” he murmured, eyes filled with concern as you simply nodded and allowed him to help you to your feet, hold you close, and lead you from the hospital.
You watched the water turn pink as it swirled down your bathroom sink drain, your fingers rubbing against the dried blood coating your flesh, trying desperately to get it off you.
It was everywhere. In every crease and crevice of your skin. Beneath your fingernails. Up and down your arms.
Your wide, tearful eyes flickered up to your reflection in the mirror and you grimaced at the dark stains on the front of your dress, fingers shaking as you tried to unfastened the row of little buttons up the front so you could get it off, get it away from you.
You didn’t realize you were sobbing until Andy appeared in the bathroom doorway, his face soft with worry as he moved toward you swiftly. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I-I can’t get it off,” you wailed, tugging at the front of your dress as you cried, your hands shaking and filthy as you rubbed at your dirty skin. “It’s all over me and I can’t get it off.”
Andy shushed you softly, catching your wrists and pushing your arms down to your sides as he tugged you against his chest.
You buried your face against his t-shirt, crying into the thin cotton as Andy’s big hands smoothed up and down your back in soothing strokes as he cooed quiet words of comfort at you.
“You’re okay, honey, I’ve got you,” he whispered. He straightened, cupping your elbows and nudging you away so he could see your face. “How about a shower? Get you all cleaned up?”
You nodded, swaying on your feet as a new wave of exhaustion hit you hard.
“Can I help you with this?” Andy asked, his fingers trailing against the top few buttons of your dress.
Andy was patient as he worked open the buttons of your dress, and he didn’t hesitate to part the fluttery fabric and push it down your arms, his fingers lingering along your skin, his gaze smoldering and concentrated as it swept over you.
His eyes met yours as he caught your dress before it could hit the floor, tossing it on the counter, never breaking your gaze as his fingers trailed along the soft satin of your bra strap before his hand was cupping the side of your throat.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, urging you back toward the glass cube shower in the corner of the room. “Go on.”
The way his eyes--darker than before--swept over you, slow and intense, had you shivering as a carnal kind of awareness bloomed to life low in your belly, but that wasn’t what had you catching his hand as he took a step back, intending to leave you to your shower.
It was the softness in his eyes, despite the dark desire swimming there, whenever he looked at you.
It was how you literally felt the loss of comfort and safety the further away he moved from you.
“Don’t leave me,” you whispered, fingers clutching his wrist and tugging him back to you. “Please.”
Something primal and satisfied sparked hot in Andy’s eyes as he towered over you. “Whatever you want, honey.” He opened the shower door, his gaze only leaving you to fiddle with the nozzles and get the water pumping hot and perfect before his eyes were drinking you in and burning you up all over again.
Steam began to fill the small room as Andy reached behind him, gripping his shirt between his shoulders and tugging it over his head before dropping it to the floor.
Your breath hitched at the sight of him, all pale skin and firm muscles, dark chest hair and numerous tattoos decorating his skin.
You reached for him before you could stop yourself, your blood-caked fingers trailing over the quote tattoo curving along his collarbone, then down the trail of hair centering his stomach before wandering over the tattoo at his hip, half covered by his jeans that he was now slowly unbuttoning.
Soon Andy was standing before you naked and perfect, looking like some sort of immaculately carved work of art come to life.
Try as you might, you couldn’t stop your eyes from dropping to his cock, and even though he wasn’t fully hard, it was a lot, tempting and distracting and twitching under your gaze.
“Don’t think that’s what you need right now, sweetheart,” Andy’s voice was gentle but colored with amusement.
Embarrassment and a hint of shame warmed your face, your gaze guilty as it flickered up to meet Andy’s, but he just smiled at you, touching his knuckles to your cheek. “None of that, sweet girl. You can look at me, especially like that, any time you want, you hear me?”
Nodding shyly, you leaned into Andy’s touch, eyes fluttering as he caressed your face before his hands were dropping and reaching behind you. He worked open your bra, gently pulling it down your arms and tossing it aside.
Only then did he look affected for the first time, some of that calm, cool, and collected demeanor of his cracking as his nostrils flared and his dark eyes slowly drank in the sight of your breasts, the hard peaks of your nipples standing proud and just begging for attention.
Swallowing, Andy reached for the sides of your panties, pushing them down your hips and crouching to tug them off, his fingers teasing along your calves and ankles as he helped you step out of them.
He lingered at your feet for a moment, his gaze hot and heavy on the juncture of your thighs before it was lifting up and up to meet yours. He blinked at you slowly, owlishly, a tic in his jaw popping as he watched you so longingly that you felt arousal seep from your core.
When you clenched your thighs together, Andy barely swallowed a groan, the stifled sound making you quake as he allowed himself just a quick tease of his thumb over the curls crowning your cunt, a soft kiss against your belly that had you gasping sharply as he rose to his feet and pressed close enough that you could feel he was fully hard now.
He pulled open the shower door and guided you inside, following you into the small, enclosed space until you were under the pounding water and he was pressed close to your back.
The heat of desire that was swirling in your belly cooled as you looked down to find the water swirling at your feet dark pink.
Whimpering, you began to scrub at yourself furiously, washing away the stains of this horrible night--of Jensen’s attack--from your hands and arms, your belly and knees.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Andy murmured against your ear, catching your hands to stop your vigorous, painful scrubbing. “Don’t hurt yourself. C’mere.”
You turned, your front brushing his as he swiped the body wash from the little nook in the wall, popping it open and pouring some into his hands. Lathering them up, he reached for you, gently rubbing the rest of the blood away from your skin until you were clean and could breathe easier.
Once the water was running clear again, Andy reached for the loofa hanging off the shower nozzle, soaping it up with your body wash until he had a nice, rich lather, and then he was gently dragging the sponge over your skin, his eyes flickering between your naked body and your half-mast eyes.
He took his time cleaning every inch of you, lingering between your legs until you were gasping and he was smirking, and then he was back to all business, turning you around so he could pay just as much attention to your back as your front.
It was a strange space to be in, so wanting and desperate for him--so affected by the intimacy of this moment--but also physically exhausted to the point that you could barely stand.
The third time you leaned back against him, simply because you were too tired to hold your own weight anymore, Andy chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “You really gonna fall asleep on me right now?” he teased. “I must be losing my touch.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to stifle a yawn as Andy rinsed the last of the bubbles from both your bodies before reaching around you to turn off the shower.
“Don’t be, sweetheart, it’s been a long night.” Pushing open the shower door, he reached for a towel hanging nearby, taking his time drying you off before nudging you from the shower and following behind. “Besides,” he drawled, grabbing his own towel and drying off as he joined you back out in your bedroom.
He caught your hips, tugging you against him--your back flush to his chest--his lips curling against your cheek at the sound of your gasp. “When I have you for the first time, I want you wide awake and begging for me.”
Shivering as his beard scraped your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, you waited until he released you and gently pushed you toward the bed.
“Go on, go to sleep,” Andy encouraged. “I’ll check on you in the morning.” He turned back toward the bathroom to get his clothes, but stopped when you caught his hand.
“Stay the night,” you pleaded softly, hating the idea of him leaving, of being alone. You yanked him closer, curling into his chest and hugging him tightly. “Please.”
“If that’s what you want,” Andy murmured, his hand sliding to the back of your neck and giving you a gentle squeeze.
“It is,” you sighed, breathing him in, amazed that you could still catch a hint of his musky scent beneath the smell of your body wash.
“Then I’m yours.”
The happiness you felt at hearing those three words from Andy was second only to the contentment you felt a few minutes later, curled up in bed, Andy curled around you, his strong arms holding you tight--keeping you safe--as you finally drifted off to sleep.
You eased back to the land of consciousness on a wave of pleasant warmth and the dulcet tones of Andy’s voice.
You were snuggled close to his side, your cheek on his bare chest, his fingers dragging up and down your naked back as he spoke quietly on his phone.
“Yeah, just park it in her driveway and leave my duffle in her car.” He paused as you shifted against him and tilted your head up to sleepily meet his gaze.
The soft smile he gave you made your heart skip a beat, a fire sparking low and hot in your belly as Andy’s fingers teased along the side of your breast.
“I’ll be by to see Jensen in a couple of hours,” Andy said, watching with interest as you settled back against him, occupying yourself by tracing the tattoo on his chest. “Thanks for the update, Curtis. Yeah, see ya.”
You glanced up as Andy ended the call, watching as he set his phone on the nightstand before tucking his hand behind his head and settling back against the pillows beside you.
“How’s Jensen?” you asked, voice rough and scratchy from sleep.
“He’s awake,” Andy told you. “A few of the guys are with him now. I have a couple of others dropping off your car.”
“Oh no,” you sat up, clutching the blanket to your naked chest as you chewed on your bottom lip. “It’s fine, Andy, I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Relax,” he hummed, smoothing a hand up your side. “I needed them to drop off some clean clothes and my phone charger for me anyway.”
You chirped in surprise as Andy suddenly sat up and twisted, pressing you against the mattress beneath him as he caged you between his thick, flexing arms.
He grinned at your wide eyes, dipping low and kissing you slowly. A hum of encouragement spilled from his lips to yours as you pressed your tongue to his, kissing him back just as eagerly.
Your hand slid around Andy’s back, feeling his muscles flex beneath your touch as he drank from your mouth like a desperate man quenching his thirst. Your free hand found the side of Andy’s face, his beard burning against your palm as you held him close, arching beneath him to meet his insistent kisses press for press.
When Andy’s lips wandered from your mouth and along your jaw, you gasped for breath, head lolling to the side and eyes fluttering. You swallowed back a moan as he kissed against the sensitive hollow behind your ear, your fingers digging into his back and making him chuckle at the discovery of your sweet spot.
He didn’t stop showering it with soft attention until you were whimpering his name and writhing beneath him frantically.
“Love all those sweet sounds you’re making for me, honey,” Andy’s voice was a husky murmur as he tugged the blankets down, until your bare breasts were exposed and heaving for him as he trailed slow, patient kisses along your skin.
You cried out--mindless and desperate--as his lips touched your nipple, peppering the sensitive peak with butterfly kisses before sucking it between his lips and laving you with his tongue. Andy’s hand squeezed your other breast firmly, until you were moaning his name and arching up against him, wordlessly, frantically pleading for more.
Andy huffed a laugh at the distressed noise you made when he pulled away from your breast with a wet pop, his eyes dark and fond as he gazed up at you from beneath his lashes as his lips traveled down your torso, over your belly, until he was settling between your legs.
“Andy,” you trembled as he scraped his cheek along the soft skin of your inner thigh, branding you with the most exquisite of burns as his thumb teased along the curls between your legs.
“You know how hard it was for me to be patient with you last night?” he murmured, his gaze leaving yours to settle on your pussy.
You jolted, a surprised moan catching in your throat as Andy’s thumb circled your clit. You collapsed back against the sheets, swallowing as your eyes fluttered, already overcome by too many sensations and a simmering heat that was slowly engulfing every inch of your body.
“Had you standing there all pretty and trembling for me, smelling this sweet cunt and how much you wanted me as I tried to be a gentleman and take care of you.”
You felt the shameless desire oozing from your body, shivering as Andy tugged you open with his thumbs, the cool air on the hottest, most desperate part of you making you shudder and mewl.
“You know what I wanted to do last night in that bathroom as you stood before me, so sweet and trusting?” Andy growled softly, licking his lips as he watched your soft pretty folds grow slicker and slicker by the second.
“Andy,” you breathed, squirming beneath him as he settled a heavy arm over your hips, holding you in place.
“All I wanted to do was this,” he rasped, his thumbs opening up your cunt for him even more, and then he was diving in.
You keened as his tongue swiped up your slit in a slow, firm stroke, head thrown back as Andy kissed your clit before his tongue was teasing along your quivering entrance and lapping up the pool of your desire.
“Fuck, I knew you’d taste good,” he growled against your cunt, chuckling as you spasmed from the vibrations, your legs snapping shut around his head at your overwhelm. “Oh no, sweetheart, no hiding from me anymore.”
He pressed your legs open, then back, until you were lewdly spread open for him, trembling and mewling his name, your cunt flooding with more arousal as he stared at the softest, hottest part of you like it was his personal heaven.
Another ragged cry was torn from your lips as Andy dove back in, feasting on your cunt like it was his favorite meal. His beard prickled and burned along your flesh, mixing with the heavy drag and prod of his tongue and the nuzzle of his nose against your throbbing clit.
When he settled against your folds, his tongue going at you non-stop, you could only lay back and take it, your hand scrabbling for him, fingers digging into Andy’s soft hair. You gasped as he moaned against you in response, his tongue dipping into your quivering hole as his thumb circled your clit in a relentless attack, until he had you keening and going taut beneath him as your orgasm rippled through your body like a punishing wave of release.
“That’s it, sweetheart, let go for me,” Andy said, pulling away and licking his swollen, shiny lips as he pressed two fingers inside of your fluttering heat.
“Oh fuck,” you whined, moaning at the firm questing strokes of Andy’s fingers, the way he scissored you open before his touch was curling inside of you, his tongue lapping at your clit and--
You cried out as you shattered once more, your body going rigid as your muscles locked and then released. Whimpering, you sagged back against the sheets, your body sweaty and trembling as your cunt pulsed and squeezed around Andy’s thick fingers until you were begging him to ease up.
“So pretty when you beg for me,” he murmured, pulling his fingers from your cunt and admiring the shine on them before sucking them into his mouth and licking them clean.
And then he was rising up between your legs, his hard cock bumping against your stomach--leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum--as he stretched out over you. Andy’s forearms framed your head as he settled flush against you.
“Gonna fill you with my cock now, sweetheart,” he whispered, titling his head and touching a sweet kiss to your lips. “Wanna feel that sweet cunt squeeze me tight.”
You moaned, hitching your knee around Andy’s hip as rocking up against him in invitation.
He laughed, bumping his nose against yours. “And you want it just as bad, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you whispered, hands sliding around Andy’s back and tugging him close, moaning at the crushing feel of his weight against you, trapping you beneath him, where you belonged. “Please, Andy. Please.”
His hand moved between your bodies, gripping his cock and stroking firm before he was dragging his length along your messy core and coating himself in your juices.
“Gonna give you what you want,” he hummed, lining himself up with your entrance. “Gonna give you everything.”
Your breath hitched as Andy caught against your entrance, your eyes widening at the size of him and unable to look away from his intense stare as he slowly pushed inside you for the first time.
A sharp gasp fell from your lips at the exquisite burn of his intrusion, your fingers digging into Andy’s skin as his eyes fluttered and his jaw clenched at the feel of your cunt slowly welcoming him inside.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so tight,” he groaned, forehead dropping to yours as he eased into you slowly, prolonging the sweet agony of filling you up, making you feel every hot, hard inch of him.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, Andy gave a hard rut of his hips, swallowing your shocked cry with his lips as he bottomed out and settled inside of you to the hilt.
“So good, you’re being so good for me,” he whispered against your lips, peppering your panting mouth with gentle kisses as he gave you a moment to adjust.
His words of praise had something hot flaring to life deep in your core and you couldn’t help it as you clenched around him hard, making Andy hiss out a string of curses as he buried his face against the crook of your neck and took a moment to gather himself.
Only when you started to squirm beneath him impatiently, your body throbbing with want and the need to be filled, fucked, claimed by Andy, did he press up over you, planting a hand against the mattress above your head as his hips slowly retreated from yours.
His eyes found yours--dark and dappled with a carnal kind of fire--as he pulled back until just the tip of him rested inside you, and then he was snapping his hips forward sharply and drinking in the sight of you losing it beneath him.
You writhed at the steady drive and retreat of Andy’s cock, hands dropping to your sides so your fingers could claw at the sheets as he fucked you.
“Wanted you since that first time I saw you,” Andy panted, driving into you hard and grinding his hips until you were mewling for him. Another harsh plunge as he speared you open and drove deep, smirking as you keened his name. “Tried being patient, ‘cause you’re a sweet little thing, but fuck you didn’t make it easy.”
Whining his name as his pace picked up until he was furiously fucking you into the mattress, you could only hold on for dear life, eyes fluttering shut and staying that was as you focused on the push and pull of Andy’s cock inside of you, lighting you up, twisting that desperate coil deep in your belly tighter and tighter and tighter.
The closer you got to that precipice of pleasure, the more your body came alive, until suddenly everything stopped.
Your eyes flew open, confused as you whined your dismay.
“There she is,” Andy’s smile was a dark, pleased thing as his knuckles drew against your sweaty cheek, his hand settling on the base of your throat. “You’re gonna look at me when I make you cum, sweetheart. You hear me?”
His hips drove forward harshly, jerking you up the mattress as you moaned out a broken, “Yes!”
Andy’s frenzied pace renewed, that coil twisting inside of you once more as you watched him watch you. You’d never before felt so seen and like you wanted to hide so badly at the same time as you met that smoldering gaze head on, your body arching as Andy’s big hand smoothed down your belly before his thumb settled on your clit.
“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he rumbled as he fucked into you without pause, his thumb strumming your swollen pleasure pearl as he drove you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. “Go on, let go for me,” he urged, his fingers gripping your throat ever so slightly.
Something about that possessive touch, that heated pressure, that wordless threat, had you snapping. You gasped his name as your body went taut with your climax, a ragged sob getting caught in your throat as you fell apart, got swept away on a wave of bliss so strong you could do little more than ride it out as your body shook and spasmed.
“Fuck, that’s it, honey, god, squeezing me so tight,” Andy grunted, his punishing pace finally faltering at the feel of your cunt pulsing and fluttering around him. “Gonna fill you up,” he moaned, spearing into you hard and lingering before his hips were pulling back before plunging forward once more.
His words brought you back to yourself just enough for you to grasp the wrist of his hand at your throat as you gasped his name. “Don’t cum inside me.” You swallowed as you felt him twitch inside of you, his dark, wild eyes uncomprehending until you said his name a little louder this time. “Andy! Pull out, please. I’m not on birth control.”
Jaw ticking, Andy gave another harsh drive of his hips, then another, his hand sliding from your throat and down your trembling belly before he was pulling out of you with a loud moan and finishing himself with his hand.
You gasped at the feel of his cum hitting your stomach, then lower, biting your bottom lip as you watched Andy aim his release at your cunt and stare, fixated, as his pleasure added to the mess between your legs.
Panting, he sagged onto his knees, his cock going soft against his thigh as he reached out and smeared his cum along your folds. He smirked as you mewled as his messy fingers ran over your oversensitive clit before he was rubbing his cooling cum into the soft skin of your belly.
Once he was done massaging his spend into your skin, he collapsed onto his back beside you in bed with a satisfied sigh. Reaching for you, Andy tugged you against him, grinning as you grimaced at the way his drying cum pulled at your skin as you settled close.
“Andy, you made a mess.”
“I think we both made that mess, sweetheart.”
His voice was so warm and tender that you shivered, your heart fluttering like a wild kaleidoscope of butterflies in your chest as you buried your face against his neck.
“S’okay,” he murmured, sounding sleepy as his hand pressed between your shoulder blades. “We can shower in a bit, maybe get a little dirtier before we get squeaky clean, hmm?”
As your own eyes began to grow heavy, you couldn’t help but speak something that had been on your mind since the night before, persistent and nagging in the best kind of way.
“Jensen said something yesterday,” you hedged, sounding unsure. “When we were in the alley with that awful man, something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about despite everything that happened.”
“He said I was yours. Your girl,” you glanced up at Andy shyly, your fingers playing with his chest hair. “Why would he say that?”
“Because it’s true,” Andy replied without hesitation. “You’ve been mine since that first night at the Qwik Mart.”
Your belly swooped and fluttered, your heartrate picking up as you felt your face warm under Andy’s unwavering gaze.
“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he murmured, fingers teasing along the cut of your jaw before wandering down the side of your throat. “Especially after what just happened.”
Part of you wanted to hide from the intensity in Andy’s gaze as he watched you, and yet another part of you couldn’t look away, mesmerized by the shine of possession and unbridled want reflected back at you.
Some hint of hesitance must have seeped into your features, because Andy’s face softened, the fire in his eyes dwindling to a smolder. He kept his tone teasing as he said, “If you think you’re getting rid of me after that, you have another thing coming.”
Laughing, you snuggled closer to him, reveling in Andy’s warmth and embrace, your body delightfully sated as you closed your eyes and got lost in him for just a little while longer.
From there the weeks flew by, and it seemed like any free time you had was spent with Andy.
Snuggled into his side as you sat with him and his crew at Jo’s.
Perched behind him on his motorcycle as he drove you to and from work.
Writhing beneath him every night as he ruined you with his cock.
Waking up to his mouth between your legs each and every morning.
And despite the warnings from your co-workers, Claire especially, to be careful, despite the quiet doubt that lingered in the back of your mind like a warning to be heeded, you were falling hard and fast for Andy Barber.
Which is why your heart was doing that fluttery, warm glowing thing as he pulled to a stop in the gravel lot of the park just as the sun began its slow descent for the day.
Andy offered you a steadying hand as you dismounted from his bike, his wandering eyes watching as your dress fluttered back into place around your thighs.
All too aware of his gaze--and your panties dampening by the second--you moved to the small black trunk of his motorcycle, pulling out the cooler and blanket you’d packed for your picnic date.
Soon Andy was joining you, taking the cooler from your hand and slinging his other arm over your shoulders as he guided you across the park and to the private overlook just beyond the line of trees.
You made quick work of spreading out the blanket, settling onto your knees and unpacking the cooler as Andy sat beside you, leaning close and tugging the collar of your dress aside so he could plant kisses against your bare skin.
“Andy,” you laughed breathlessly, turning toward him and allowing him to pull you into a slow, lingering kiss before pulling away with a quiet smack of your lips. “Dinner first, then dessert.”
His eyes sparkled at you before surveying the spread of food and drink. “Don’t see dessert, sweetheart.”
You touched a finger to his cheek, turning his gaze back to you. “See it now?”
He grinned at the playful seduction in your voice, lunging close to press another kiss to your lips before you were pushing him away with a giggle.
“Come on, I worked hard on all of this,” you pouted.
Heaving a sigh of long suffering, Andy rolled his eyes, shooting a smirk your way so you knew he was just teasing, before letting you take the lead and fix two plates of food.
You dug in, chatting about work and Jensen’s recovery between bites, until the food was gone, the cooler set aside, and you were settling between Andy’s spread legs.
Your back pressed against his chest as you both watched the dazzling display of light and colors streak across the sky as the sun set.
“Have you always wanted to run the club?” you asked softly, hand settling over Andy’s forearm that was curled around your stomach.
“No, believe it or not, I used to dream about being a lawyer,” Andy murmured against the side of your neck, lips teasing and curling against your skin as you shivered.
“Really?” you breathed, squirming as Andy pressed his beard into your skin, knowing how much it drove you wild. “Andy.”
At your admonishing tone, he snickered, giving a sigh before propping his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah, I dunno, it was a fleeting thing, then my dad got put away and I needed to step up to run the club. It’s the hand I was dealt and I’ve made the best of it.”
Your gaze dropped away from the darkening sky, to Andy’s large hand spread across your belly. You traced his long fingers with the pads of your own. “Have you hurt people?”
You asked the question that had been weighing on your heart for weeks now, the deeper you fell for Andy and the more entangled you became with his club, with his life.
His hesitance was brief, but it was there, and it had your belly twisting as he replied, “Yes.”
“Have you killed--” you gasped as Andy’s hand slid over your mouth, muffling the rest of your words.
“Don’t ask me that,” he spoke against the hollow behind your ear. His voice was hard but there was a hint of pleading that had your eyes smarting.
You tugged on his wrist, until his hand slowly fell from your mouth, settling on the base of your throat. “Why?” you whispered.
Another quiet pause, this one longer.
“Because,” Andy spoke slowly. “If I tell you the truth, you’ll look at me differently, and I really like the way you look at me, sweetheart.” He nuzzled his face against your neck, his lips teasing the shell of your ear as he said, “And I don’t wanna lie to you.”
There was a vulnerability in his voice that had you blinking back tears even as his answer made your stomach sink, a heaviness--and distant dread--settling deep inside you.
You knew this reality would come to a head eventually, but it didn’t seem to stop you from hurtling deeper and deeper into whatever this was with Andy.
You know exactly what it is, a quiet, traitorous voice whispered in your mind.
And you did.
You knew that despite everyone and everything outside of you telling you that this was a bad idea--that Andy was bad for you--it didn’t change the fact that everything inside of you wanted him desperately…
And loved him completely.
“Say something, please,” Andy pleaded against your shoulder, hugging you tighter.
You twisted in his grip, gaze soft as you spied the distress shining from his baby blues. “I think that sometimes there are people who are just bad, like your father,” you murmured, gently framing Andy’s face between your hands. “And sometimes there are good people who do bad things.”
Andy swallowed audibly as you rested your forehead against his, your fingers petting along his beard as he nuzzled your nose with his.
“You’re not bad, Andy,” you whispered against his lips, pressing closer. “I know it. In my heart.”
Big, warm hands sliding up your back as Andy husked, “Yeah, what else do you know about me, sweetheart?”
You watched as that desperate want flared to life in his gaze, shuddering as you felt the same needy kindling catch deep in your center.
“I know that I want you.” You pressed a kiss to his mouth, teeth gently nipping at his full bottom lip and smiling at his throaty grunt. “I always want you, Andy.”
“Then lay back and spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart,” Andy rumbled against your mouth, lips twitching into a smirk as your breath caught. “And I’ll give you everything I’ve got.”
You paused long enough to glance around the park and make sure it was as empty as it had been when you first got here, and then you were yelping in surprise as Andy lunged at you, his hand gently cradling the back of your head as he spread you out beneath him on the blanket.
The broken whisper of his name on your lips was all at once a plea and an admonishment, but you didn’t resist as Andy settled between your legs, made quick work of pulling his hard cock free, and tugged your panties to the side to line himself up.
You just laid back and enjoyed the burn of him splitting you open with a quick, harsh thrust, your fingers clawing at the back of his Devil’s Advocates jacket and holding on for dear life as he took you apart, thoroughly, masterfully, until he had you ruined and crying beneath him as you came around his cock while chanting his name.
You were still a bit fuck drunk and wobbling in your sandals as you waved to Andy before slipping inside your home.
You peeked out from behind the curtain, the house still dark around you as you watched him rev his motorcycle before speeding away.
Pressing your warm face to the cool glass of the window, you pressed your thighs together, squirming as the mess in your ruined panties pressed against you uncomfortably.
It always made your breath catch, watching as Andy struggled to hold it together as he pulled out and found more and more creative ways to mark you with his cum since he couldn’t mark you from the inside.
Tonight he had made you watch as he filled your panties with his pleasure then slid them back into place, patting the thin, soaked cotton against your sensitive cunt until you were feeling the cooling warmth of him make more of a mess against your skin.
You shivered at the memory, hand reaching along the wall for the lightswitch when a hand suddenly circled your neck.
You wheezed, your scream getting caught in your throat as you were shoved against the front door, a warm breath fanning across your face.
“Been waiting a long time to get you all to myself, sweet thing.”
You went rigid at the sound of Pronge’s voice, a whimper bubbling up despite the brutal pressure on your neck.
His laugh was quiet and gravelly, his lips chapped as they slid against your cheek and pressed a deceptively soft kiss there.
You could taste bile at the back of your throat as his hand groped your breast, and you had just a few seconds to struggle in his grip, kick out and flail wildly, before he was huffing an irritated sigh, yanking you forward, and violently cracking your head back against the front door.
And everything went black.
Your head was throbbing so fiercely it took you a moment to realize the agonizing strain on your arms.
Blinking your eyes open, you whimpered to find yourself hanging from a meathook in the center of a dim, dirty warehouse. Your bare toes were just able to touch the floor and you tried to press up on them to ease the burning ache in your arms and shoulders.
You cried out in pain as you only managed to jostle yourself on your precarious perch, swaying on the hook until you were able to get your feet back under you.
“You were right, Freezy, she really is a pretty one,” an unfamiliar voice spoke from the shadows. “Makes the sweetest sounds too.”
It felt like your heart was beating in your throat as you watched a tall, broad frame step from the shadows.
His eyes were menacing as they slowly dragged over you, his skin tan and set off by his short, dark hair. His gaze met yours as you felt a heat at your back and the press of a firm chest against you.
Hands cupped your hips as you felt the tickle of long hair brush against the side of your neck.
“Told you,” Pronge drawled from behind you.
You flinched away from him, your frightened eyes finding the stranger looming before you. “Please,” you whispered shakily. “Why are you doing this?”
He clasped his big hands before him, various rings catching the light from the dim bulb shining overhead. “Do you know who I am?”
At the shake of your head, he looked displeased, jaw clenching as he glanced away for a beat before looking your way once more. He stared at you, his look so hard you were trembling from the violence in his gaze.
He cracked his neck, the bones crunching grotesquely before he shook out his arms and stepped closer. You chirped in terror and recoiled, uncaring that it just pressed you further into Pronge’s chest.
“You may not know me now,” he spoke slowly, taking another step forward. “But I promise after tonight, you’ll never forget me. Not that you’ll have much time to ruminate on me once I’m done with you.”
His touch on your cheek was soft, but you flinched anyway, and he smirked.
“I’m Neal Loguidice and I run the East Street Gang.” He saw the spark of recognition in your gaze and his smirk spread to a full, shark-like grin. “Yeah, I’m sure your boyfriend’s mentioned us a time or two, huh?”
When you didn’t reply, just continued to stare at him in dread, he continued.
“My crew and the Devil’s Advocates have had beef for as long as I remember, probably before either of us were even born,” Neal explained. “Just one of those age old rivals, you know? And no matter how hard I tried, I could never one up Andy Barber, ‘cause he’s never really had a weakness, ‘till now.” Neal booped your nose as he ducked close. “‘Till you.”
“W-we barely know each other.” The lie was falling from your lips before you could stop it or even think to, and distantly you were impressed by this late blooming self-preservation, this calculating part of your mind you didn’t know existed until now.
But it did.
And it wanted to survive.
“I-I’ve only known him for a few months,” you wavered, cringing as Pronge slid his hand along your ass and squeezed.
“Yeah, but he fell and he fell fast,” Neal smirked, head tilting as he watched in amusement as you tried to escape Pronge’s insistent groping.
“Because if I tell you the truth, you’ll look at me differently,” Pronge did a terrible impersonation of Andy, the verbatim words making you still. “And I really like the way you look at me, sweetheart. And I don’t wanna lie to you.”
The sting of tears in your eyes blurred your vision as you realized aloud, “You followed us?”
“Glad I did, too,” Pronge snickered, big hand rounding your throat and gripping your chin, giving you a shake as he said, “You put on quite the show, you little slut. Can't wait for my turn to turn that sweet pussy inside out.”
Your horrified, watery gaze flickered to Neal, and he mocked a wince.
“He’s a bit crude, isn’t he? But he’s loyal,” he shrugged. “And he’s right.”
Your breath hitched as Neal took the last step to close the space between you, until you were sandwiched between these two terrifying men and Pronge’s touch was falling away from your face so Neal’s could take its place.
He was gentle as he held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his dark eyes flickering all over your fearful face.
“First I’m gonna fuck you,” he murmured, smirking at your whimper. “Then he’s gonna ruin the rest of your pretty holes…”
You couldn’t suppress the flow of tears and horror as Pronge rutted against your ass, his hardness evident.
Neal’s grip on your face turned painful, pulling your helpless gaze back to his. “Then I’m gonna kill you. Slowly. And I’m gonna make it hurt, maybe even make a video for your boyfriend while I’m at it--”
“No, please,” you begged, a scream catching in your throat as Neal’s hand gripped your throat hard and shoved your head back until you were meeting his malevolent gaze.
“Then we’re gonna leave your dead, mutilated body for Barber to find, and it’s gonna destroy him, and I may just make a video of that for myself,” he grinned, and you swore your heart stopped for a moment, to be face to face with such evil.
“And then once he’s down for the count,” Neal continued, “I can finally, finally take him and his crew out and secure the majority of Newton, like I deserve. Because this is my town.”
Despite your terror, and the way you knew you were right on the edge of giving into your fear--your hysteria--that unexplainable loyalty you’d felt for Andy since day one stirred in your belly, and even if it was just a fleeting, final moment, you wanted to wipe that smug smirk from Neal Loguidice’s face.
“No, it’s not,” you said. “It’s Andy’s town.”
All things considered, you should have seen it coming, but Neal’s backhand still took you by surprise.
The pained cry that fell from your lips was less from his strike and more from the way it jerked you on the meathook, wrenching your shoulders painfully as your body twisted with the momentum of his hit.
“Mouthy little bitch,” Neal sneered. “I’m gonna have fun making you cry, making you bleed,” he threatened, catching your face with his hand and giving it a harsh squeeze.
Shoving you away, he stepped back, shrugging off his jacket as he nodded at Pronge.
“Take her down,” he instructed, nodding toward the dirty, bare mattress lying a few feet away. “Spread her out for me.”
“With pleasure,” Pronge hummed, easily lifting your weight from the hook and snorting as you stumbled against him, still disoriented from the force of Neal’s blow.
You shook the fogginess from your brain as Pronge shoved you toward the filthy mattress, your stomach rolling as you planted your feet and threw your head back on instinct.
A sickening crunch followed by Pronge’s shout of pain had you going still, eyes wide as you spun on your heel to see blood flooding down his mouth and chin from his nose.
“You fucking cunt,” he snarled, swiping at the blood on his face with his sleeve. “You broke my fucking nose.”
You screamed as he lunged at you, his big hand squeezing your throat and cutting off the sounds of your terror as his free hand reached behind him and pulled a knife from the band of his jeans.
It was the same knife he had used on Jensen all those weeks ago, and you felt more tears stream down your cheeks at the memory.
“Yeah, you remember this, don’t you?” Pronge hissed, pressing the cool flat of the blade against your warm, wet cheek and grinning as you trembled in his grip. “I should fucking gut you like I did that blonde punk.”
“Wait until it’s your turn,” Neal huffed, tugging you from Pronge’s grip and throwing you to the mattress. “Blood ain’t really my thing. I have a different kind of mess for her in mind,” he sneered, rubbing the bulge at the front of his jeans as you swallowed thickly and tried to scramble away from him.
It was hard to move with your hands still bound before you, and you could do little more than cry and kick out as Neal knelt on the end of the mattress, looming over you. He easily caught your legs, his hands circling your ankles like manacles as he gripped hard and yanked you toward him.
“How about a spitroast?” Pronge drawled, sauntering into your periphery as Neal worked open his belt. “Bet she’s never been used like that before. She’s got good girl written all over her.”
Neal laughed at your muffled sob of confirmation. “Yeah, why not, wouldn’t mind seeing her choke on your cock while I tear up this cunt.”
As his hand slid up your thigh you twisted, kicking out at him and going still as you caught him in the stomach hard. You watched as Neal wheezed and doubled over for a long, tense moment before his eyes slowly lifted to you.
You had never seen such violence in someone’s gaze before and couldn’t stop the way your body quivered as you stared at each other for a long beat.
And then he was diving at you.
Your shriek barely rang off the walls before Neal was being yanked away from you.
You watched in a dazed sort of shock as a snarling Andy grabbed him by the back of the neck and threw him toward a waiting Curtis and Mike.
The bone-rattling relief that swept through you was short-lived and instantly morphed to fear when you got a good look at Andy, at his flushed face and wild eyes, the veins bulging in his neck and the clenched fists at his sides.
He stood over you for a beat, looking unhinged and completely foriegn to you, and you fleetingly thought that this must have been what everyone else saw when they looked at Andy Barber.
This is why they had warned you away from him time and time again.
You swallowed, a few stray tears streaking down your cheeks as you stared up at Andy, watching as his fierce, feral gaze raked over you and your terrified, mussed state--making sure you were okay, or as okay as you could be in this moment--before he was stalking past you and toward Pronge.
Pronge looked just as shell shocked as you felt by the sudden appearance of his rivals, because he didn’t even put up a fight as Andy yanked the knife from his grip and slit his throat with his own weapon.
You whimpered at the hot spray of Pronge’s blood across your face, unable to look away as he gurgled and dropped to his knees, his eyes wild and terrified as he clutched at the gaping wound at his neck before hitting the floor with a dull thud.
“You son of a bitch!”
At the sound of Neal’s shout, your wide gaze flickered away from Pronge writhing on the floor and up, watching as Andy stalked back toward Neal, his shoulders tense and chest heaving, as he slowly gripped the other man’s t-shirt in his fist, yanking him close, until they were nose to nose.
“You think you can take what’s mine?” Andy’s voice was quiet but deadly. “Hurt what’s mine?”
“She was begging for it, the dirty little slut,” Neal taunted, laughing as Andy shook him violently before hauling off and punching him.
Curtis and Mike released their hold on Neal’s arms, watching in satisfaction as he dropped to his knees.
Laughing, Neal wiped the blood from his split lip as he smirked up at Andy towering over him. “Was just leaving you a little gift, Barber. Was gonna destroy that sweet pussy, then let Pronge tear her apart before I killed her. Was gonna make it real slow and painful too, so she’d regret every fucking minute she ever spent with you, you piece of shit.”
The roar of outrage that tore from Andy’s chest was inhuman and made you flinch. You could only watch in horror as he landed another blow to Neal’s face, his fist twisting in the collar of his rival’s shirt and pulling him back to his knees so he could hit him over and over again.
And then Andy was tackling Neal to the ground, straddling the other man as his big hands circled his throat and squeezed.
Only then did Neal really begin to struggle, but it was too late.
Feeling your stomach churn as a new kind of terror swept through you, you tugged your knees to your chest, struggling to breathe as you watched Andy--your Andy--slowly, painfully strangle Neal to death with his bare hands.
He didn’t relent, even after Neal went still, and you couldn’t look away--couldn’t even blink--as the quiet buzzing started in your head. The tightness in your chest grew painful as you pressed a hand over your heart and desperately tried to catch your breath.
You were both too aware and strangely unaware as Jensen knelt beside you, his touch on your shoulder gentle as he spoke your name just as the black spots started dancing in your vision.
Curtis stepped into your gaze, blocking Andy and Neal from your view as he called his leader’s name, the concern in his voice snapping Andy from his blood lust.
The buzzing in your head grew louder as you heard the final pained gurgle from Pronge--then deafening silence--as his body went limp in your periphery.
And as Andy crouched before you, those dark blue eyes of his wild with something you had never seen before, and never wanted to see again…
As he reached for you with trembling hands covered in Pronge’s blood…
Everything went black for the second time that day.
After waking up in the comfort of your own bed after the ordeal in the warehouse, after listening to Andy explain they had found you because he had Jensen put a tracker on your phone without telling you, after letting him hold you in his arms for hours before you realized his presence was only making you feel more unsafe…
After telling Andy you needed time and space...
He lasted four days before showing up to your home uninvited.
You’d been getting ready for bed when you glanced up and found him standing in the doorway of your bedroom, frown twisting his lips as you choked on a scream at the sight of him.
“I missed you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he held you against his chest and pressed soft kisses on the crown of your head.
His familiar musky scent rose up around you and you felt the comfort that usually came along with it--with Andy’s touch--before the image of him in a murderous rage that night flashed in your mind’s eye.
Shuddering, you pushed away from him, hugging yourself as you widened the distance between you. “I told you I needed some space, Andy.”
“And I gave it to you,” he sighed, hands falling to his hips as he watched you slowly hedge further and further away from him.
“A few days?” you quavered, gaze flickering to him then away again, like part of you was worried if you watched him for too long, you’d see that wild, inhuman look creep back into his gaze.
All you knew was you didn’t want that look directed at you.
Not now, not ever.
“I can’t do this,” you whispered, the words tumbling from your mouth before you could stop them.
“What?” Despite his question, the way Andy’s face crumpled told you he knew exactly what you were saying.
And no matter what had happened--and how you felt now--you didn’t want to hurt him.
Your breath hitched on a choked sob as you shook your head. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t. It’s too much, Andy. I can’t be part of your world.”
“You love me, I know you do,” he said stubbornly, his eyes hawk-like as he watched you.
“I do,” you nodded, more tears falling. “I love you so much, Andy, but I can’t...I can’t even look at you after what happened.”
He was on you before you could think to move away, his big, rough hands cupping your face and tilting your gaze to his. “It’s still me. I love you, you know I do.” His thumb gently swiped a tear from your cheek as you stared up at him. “Look at me right now and tell me you don’t see it - how much I love you.”
“I know you do,” you whispered. Your fingers curled around his wrists, tugging until he reluctantly released your face. “But I can’t live like this. All the violence and death. I’m meant to help people, not hurt them.”
“You haven’t hurt anyone, you couldn’t,” Andy frowned. “I’m not asking you to hurt anyone, sweetheart.”
“I know, but I can’t stand by while you do!” you cried, pushing away from him. “T-the things you did, that I saw.” You choked on another sob, hand covering your mouth as you shook your head, trying to rid your mind of that night in the warehouse.
Of the blood and violence. The dead bodies. The unadulterated rage you had seen in Andy’s eyes as he took the lives of others without hesitating, like it came natural to him.
Like he enjoyed it.
Taking a shaky breath, you turned away from Andy, waiting until you were sure your voice wouldn’t break before speaking, “I can’t do this. Please go.”
You went still at the quiet snap of Andy’s voice.
He’d never spoken to you like that before.
Hair standing on end, you slowly turned back to him, your tearful gaze meeting his. You flinched at the fire burning in Andy’s eyes. It wasn’t flames of desperation and desire shining at you, but the heat of possession.
The unruly inferno of complete and total ownership.
“You’re mine,” Andy growled, slowly stalking closer. His lips turned down in displeasure as you retreated, blindly hedging around the foot of the bed as he closed in on you. “You think I’d hurt you? That I could?”
“Andy, please.” Your voice quavered as your back hit the wall.
“I get it,” he hummed, voice soft as he towered over you, eliminating the space between your bodies as he pressed you into the wall. “What happened to you that night was terrifying, traumatizing, but I promise it’ll never happen again. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” His fingers trailed over your cheek gently, palm cupping your jaw and angling your gaze to his. “I love you. You’re mine, and I love you, do you hear me?”
“You just need me to show you how much, that’s all,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.
Pressing your hands to his chest, you tried to push him away. “Andy, I want you to leave, I mean it.”
Huffing, Andy easily collared both of your wrists with one hand, pressing them against the wall above your head as his other hand slid along the base of your throat. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl. Remind you how good we are together. That you belong to me.”
You shivered, your traitorous body responding to the soft, sinful promise in his tone, the way his hand was dropping from your throat to caress down the length of your body.
Andy’s fingers paused to tease your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, his gaze knowing and arrogant as he pulled an unwilling mewl from the back of your throat. “Don’t get all shy on me now, honey. We both know how much you like it when I touch you.”
He was right.
You couldn’t deny the way he made your body come alive and lose all composure like no other.
Andy had had that power over you from the moment you first met.
Still, as his hand slid down your stomach, his destination clear, you clenched your thighs together hard, trying to keep him at bay.
He smirked at your show of defiance, excitement and a hint of pride sparking in his gaze as his knuckles drew along your soft, trembling thighs.
“I kind of like it when you play hard to get, sweetheart,” he murmured, catching your lips in a forceful kiss.
Andy distracted you so expertly with his lips and tongue that you eased the harsh press of your thighs, and then he was swallowing your sharp gasp as his fingers stroked against the front of your panties, finding the fabric soaked through.
“No,” you whined, your face hot as you turned away from him. You bit your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Andy’s fingers slid into your panties and down your slit, teasing the quivering entrance of your throbbing core.
“Your mind may be overthinking this, trying to run away from me,” Andy breathed against your ear, giving the lobe a harsh nip, “But your body’s begging for it, welcoming me home, sweetheart.”
You whimpered as he shoved two fingers into you harshly, eyes rolling back in your head as they curled and drew along that spongy spot on the first try.
And then he was railing you with his fingers without warning, no drawing it out, no teasing or working you up, just full out fucking you with his fingers until you were moaning his name as you came, your body bowing as your release drenched his hand and trickled down your shaking thighs.
“Good girl,” Andy hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your warm cheek as you panted for breath.
He tugged you away from the wall and toward the bed, shoving you down on the mattress and watching you with a dark, hungry gaze as he shrugged off his jacket.
Soon the rest of his clothes lay at his feet in a haphazard pile, and you swallowed as Andy stood over you, gripping his cock in his hand and slowly stroking himself until he was fully hard and ready to go.
Your struggle was pathetic as Andy reached for you and yanked your sleep shirt off, tossing it behind him before his hands slid along your body, his touch all at once reverent and possessive.
You couldn’t help it as you leaned into it, as your body arched up and pressed into his touch greedily--desperately--because as much as you knew this was wrong, as loud as that warning voice was shouting in your mind, it felt so good.
And you loved him.
“That’s it,” Andy hummed, kissing you slowly, messily as his fingers curled against the sides of your panties. He pulled his lips from yours and leaned back, tugging the ruined scrap of fabric down your legs.
You shuddered as Andy’s warm, rough hands pressed against your thighs, slowly sliding up and rubbing the remnants of your earlier release into your skin. He spread your legs wide, dipping low to lick along your quivering slit, smirking as you cried out in pleasure.
His thumb tugged at the hood of your clit, revealing the little bundle of nerves that he was soon taking between his lips and sucking hard.
Keening, you arched up off the bed, your hands gripping Andy’s head, tugging at his hair as he lashed your clit with his tongue, until you were crying through your release and begging him to stop as you sagged back against the mattress, shaking and spent.
“Four days,” Andy rasped, wiping your slick from his face as he nudged you further up the bed and crawled over you. “Four days you kept me from this sweet cunt.”
He groaned as he gripped his cock, settling between your shaking thighs and pumping himself slowly as he stared at the swollen, sensitive mess between your legs.
As Andy stretched out over you, you felt a surge of shame as your hands slid around his back, urging him closer, welcoming his warmth and crushing weight against you, but god you’d missed him just as much as he missed you.
Even if you knew it was wrong.
Even if he scared you now.
Andy terrified your mind but delighted your body, and in this moment, as the ache for him reached somewhere so deep inside you, you weren’t sure if it would ever go away, you gave in.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Andy cooed as you hugged him close and buried your face against his chest. “Let your body lead. It knows what you need, what you really want.” He drew his length along your messy folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. “You want this cock, isn’t that right?”
Your response was a muffled whine against his neck, and Andy laughed, guiding himself to your center.
“It’s okay, honey, I’ve got you.”
You felt the hot, heavy press of Andy’s cock prod your entrance and prepared yourself for the slow burn of him sinking into you, but instead you got all of him at once as he drove into you hard and fast, a shriek catching in your throat as he retreated just and quickly before rutting into you hard again, and again, and again.
“See what happens when you try my patience?” And panted, hand catching around your throat and pressing you back against the mattress so he could watch your face, the way your features twisted with painful pleasure. “Not gonna last long, not when you deprived me of this perfect cunt for so long.”
You moaned as Andy drove into you hard, jerking you up the mattress before his hands were digging into your hips and yanking you back against the punishing plunge of his cock.
He barely touched your clit and you were cumming hard, back bowing and fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you as Andy rode you harder, his hips plowing into you--relentless--until you were tipping head-first into another orgasm.
“Always so responsive for me, sweetheart,” Andy growled, ducking low and kissing you fiercely. “That big brain may want to run away, but this sweet body can’t help but cream all over my cock, so desperate for me, huh?”
As if to prove his point, he tilted your hips, shifting the angle of his next thrust and laughing breathlessly as you came again with a pathetic whine.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Andy grunted, pounding into you furiously. “This cunt is mine. You’re mine. Gonna show you how much, gonna fill you up and make you mine, for good.”
“Wait,” you whispered as Andy stretched out over you, the brutal pace of his hips beginning to falter the closer he got to his peak. “Andy, don’t cum--”
His hand slid heavy across your mouth, his eyes burning into yours as he murmured, “You’re mine and you’re gonna take everything I give you like a good girl.” Andy smirked as you clenched around him hard, your eyes wide and shining with tears as he drove into you hard.
And then he was moaning his release, a fierce heat blooming deep in your core as Andy filled you with his seed, hips rocking into you slowly, over and over again as he pumped you full of his hot, sticky cum.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, sweaty forehead dropping to yours as he drove into you a final time before going still.
You couldn’t hold back your tears as you felt some of his cum seeping out around his soft cock to pool beneath you.
Yanking his hand from over your mouth, you quavered his name, trying to push him off of you to no avail. “I told you to pull out, you know I’m not on birth control!”
“I know, sweetheart,” he sighed, touching his lips to yours, his eyelashes fluttering and tickling your cheek as he trailed soft kisses along the curve of your jaw.
“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s what I want--” he hummed, shifting over you and cupping your face with his hand, thumb wiping away your tears as you stared up at him in betrayal.
“You can’t just--”
“I can,” he snapped, gripping your face harder, holding you still so you couldn't look away from him. “And I will.”
You whimpered as you saw the terrifying feral look spark to life in his gaze, trembling beneath him as Andy gently stroked your cheek.
“I’m gonna keep you filled with my cream, sweetheart,” Andy murmured. “Drowning in it, until that sweet, soft belly of yours is filled with my child and you’ll never leave me.”
You wailed his name quietly, dread settling heavy in your stomach as you stared up at Andy in shock. “You can’t--”
“I can,” he insisted. “I am.”
Your breath caught as he rocked against you, feeling that he was hard again, unable to stop him as he started to fuck you slowly--gently--his eyes never leaving yours and watching as a fresh wave of tears spilled over.
“Shhh, don’t cry, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you so happy,” Andy promised, thumbing away your tears as his hips sped up, driving deeper and deeper with every purposeful thrust.
And your traitorous body welcomed him and his boundless lust--his dark intention--the shameful desire sparking hot and heavy in the core of your being--despite the despair flooding your mind--as Andy moved over you, inside you, consuming you more and more with every fierce drive of his hips.
“We’re gonna be a family,” he breathed against your trembling lips. “And I’m gonna take such good care of you, you’ll see. ‘Cause I’ve got you, honey. I’ve got you. Forever.”
WHOOPS. THIS WAS ANOTHER CRAZY, HORNY ROLLERCOASTER, EH?! I DIDN’T THINK THIS ONE WOULD BE THIS DARK/ANGSTY AT THE END BUT EHHH THE MUSE WANTS WHAT THE MUSE WANTS. PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO DROP ME SOME FEEDBACK AND FEED YOUR FAVORITE SHAMELESS HOE 😘❤️
I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be easily notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @sirisshamelesshoelibrary and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘
Please note that my work is not to be reposted, published, or translated anywhere other than my Tumblr without my expressed permission. Reblogs are most welcome though! ❤️
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The Price You Pay Chapter 5: Remedy
Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader, Senator!Andy Barber x Reader
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat
Chapter Warnings: MORE Angst; More Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse; Arguing; Crying; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat; Lies; Secrets; Cigarette Mention; Death Mention; Heart Attack Mention;
Chapter Summary: You stand poised in the eye of the storm.
Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4
Notes: Everything remains derailed but I needed to get this arc out too. Thank you everyone for all of your feedback and reactions to Chapter 4!
Still no smut here but we’re in the weeds of some Shit right about now. As always, your feedback and comments are greatly appreciated!
Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.
All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.
It’s a heart attack, the papers say.
Quick. Easy. Painless. A column in an obituary and there he goes. No mystery, nothing so beloved, no demands for justice.
A heart attack.
Asleep in his office poor man, not even in his bed and a lifestyle come to reap its debts and there he goes, lost to the world forever, a cold shell of a reputation, leaves a wife and two sons behind, leaves a legacy of service and friends who will speak at his funeral.
The funeral you will attend. Just. To be sure.
Steve Rogers brings you the paper and flowers and it’s almost sweet the way he stands in your doorway and watches you take one and toss the other — You’re going to be late for your investors’ meeting if you stand there — too bad almost isn’t enough.
I told you I wasn’t in the business of wasting time. Don’t waste your energy.
Steve Rogers walks away.
It was always lies, wasn’t it? Always lies the way he thought he could make you soft with his own, the way he thought he could show you he understood.
The way you almost understood.
Sympathy is for those who deserve it.
And you may be shackled here, trapped by the deal you made but you will never be tied to him again and you will never let him in again and you…
You are stronger than this.
You are more than the woman you were thirteen months ago in the courtroom where you made Steve Rogers face the true power of your will and you stand before him again a firestorm of fury daring him to stick his hand in the flames and see just what you brand him as. Liar liar liar traitor traitor traitor coward coward coward.
One man tries to make his way into your office, talk to you about something, and is pulled back by another and the mutterings around you are the same — dark clouds, yelling matches, wouldn’t touch, wouldn’t ask, Captain’s orders — and you like this, in a sick way.
You like how you’re alone, you like the stares they send your way, all afraid and unnerved, all wondering when his patience will finally snap and you will finally be a memory and you… dare them. To make you just that — a memory.
You will never forget me.
But you? You will erase him from the halls of your affection and make him nothing but a scratched-out marble upon which you once laid wreaths of surrender. You will tear him from your heart and turn the scar he leaves into another memorial to the things you were and could not be again — stronger, this time. Always stronger.
Stronger than the man whose name appears on your caller ID once, twice, thrice and four times, each one swiftly cut off by a tap of your finger before you decide to let the auto-block feature do the work for you.
Steve Rogers walks away.
But never for long, and never when he feels like his chest might cave from the inevitability he has avoided and he loathes you for this. Loathes you for the gnawing at his bones, the regret which pulses out of him by the tension of his jaw and the ice in his glare.
He stands in your doorway again, glaring at your silent form poring over the paperwork you don’t actually need to do, taking a breath.
Don’t call me that.
The look you fix him with is withering enough you can almost see him step back, forced to comply.
Counsel, then. We need to talk.
With all due respect — such as it is — we’ve talked enough.
You’ve learned. You’ve learned to move out of his grasp, learned to sidestep his reaching fingers when he leans forward to grab hold of your arm, learned to make him work for the warmth of your body against his and in that you mean he hasn’t seen you outside the office since … well.
And as you raise your hand to stop him from continuing to fill your office, you learn something else about yourself — there is courage in having so very little left to lose.
What are you going to do about it, you challenge in the silence of your glare, and he knows he could threaten you with any number of things and he knows you would fix him with that same withering look and he knows you have very few cares left.
I asked you why you wanted him dead, Counsel, you could have told me then—
And what? You would have hopped right to it, in defense of your own personal whore?
If I had known, I—
If you had known what? You wouldn’t have taken the job? You wouldn’t have made the deal you did? You wouldn’t have shoved me into your bed and decided that was payment enough for your inaction? You would have let me go, free to be something other than the cunt who wets your cock?
You have to stop.
You have to stop because the fury is starting to turn into tears and you will not let him see you cry again, not anymore. It’s your jaw turning to teeth-cracking steel this time, your eyes turning hard and hollow, your glare fixed on his and this time he cannot press your pain into soft sheets and soothe you with the lap of his tongue.
Don’t. I don’t want your justifications or your excuses. I held up my end of the bargain and you… all you had to do was kill a man, and you couldn’t even do that. You wanted me all soft and sweet in your lap and all you had to do was kill one man.
He doesn’t respond.
He doesn’t move to defend himself, he doesn’t do any of that because he knows he can’t.
His jaw tenses, the vein in his temple pulsing with rage but it’s the rage of being wrong, of being the one pulled down again and here you are, the most beautifully infuriating woman in his world and here he is, watching you tear him out of your life with the casual finality of one tossing aside a spent cigarette.
Sunshine. Good to see you, come in…
He looks the same. Keeps the same beard. Same perfect hair. Same crease in his brow when he opens the door of his hotel and lets you in. It’s the warm familiarity of the dinner all over again, wrapped in the woodsy sharpness of his cologne as it surrounds you here, in his temporary domain.
Andy. Thank you for—
You can’t even speak for the choke that ripples through you.
Just once, before you close your eyes and stand perfectly still. It’s a collapse, or the beginnings of one, but you aren’t free to let down your guard yet and the tense muscles of your control need you to hold on. Just a little longer.
Just a little longer.
Even if he notices.
The slide of his arm over yours is delicate. A guide, come sit down, and you let him. Robotic, while you press down the rising tide of your panic and it is… a moment. The final groans of screeching metal before the crumbling structure rests on the precipice of ruin, one errant feather away from apocalypse.
He touches you again, rests a hand on your shoulder, compels you look up at that warm-eyed concern and drown in the ocean of affection he doesn’t hide this time, so glad to see you as he is. Your name from his lips this time, soft and sweet and then, Talk to me.
What do you say?
What is there to say?
These are the words, Andy Barber.
You should never have come here, should never have let Andy Barber welcome you — poison pouring from the cracks in your armor — should never have put yourself in his arms because the moment you do, it will be the end of you.
He stops you. One hand on your shoulder the other holding your chin and shaking his head, he stops you. Talking is too much and it’s worn all over your face, how tired of words you are. The answers still have no voice but he has no need to hear them to understand.
Doesn’t matter. Not right now — you’re here, and you’re safe here.
You don’t feel safe. But you’ll trust him, just this once.
You can be more than her, you think to yourself. More than the cage you have made out of your own guilt and anger, but there is so much dangerin the letting go, in the freeing yourself. Even now, you look into that ocean of endless concern and you wonder just how much of the truth he could take.
I’m sorry, you manage out, remembering the pretense under which you came here in the first place, I know he was your friend.
He was. We went golfing before he… always told him he’d end up keeling over from one.
He has no idea. You try to smile at the joke, try to mirror his and the way he waves away your apologies, and it doesn’t work quite so well.
Sorry, Sunshine. Force of habit — after…
It’s… not a comfortable silence, but both of you live in it now, in the lowering of your heads and the sheepish smiles, the understanding of the things you wish you could but cannot say.
What a pair the both of you make.
Are you planning on attending the funeral? His voice breaks the silence with a plaintive inquiry and you… struggle, not to wince.
I think so, if I can get the time off, you can, you know you can, because the man who controls it doesn’t control you, not anymore and you open your mouth to tell him that before you think better of it, before you turn away. Again.
Why do you run?
What compels you to sprint away from the only thing in your life which has made sense thus far — warm eyes, soft hands, the assurance that you are safe — and into the dangerous arms of lies and deceit?
Steve Rogers lied. He lied and he used you and it’s just the same game as the man on the slab miles away and yet you cannot bring yourself to slash at that marble face in the halls of your mind.
You deserve him.
That’s the why, and it strikes you like a poker to the chest, searing hot, branding you liar liar liar traitor traitor traitor coward coward coward.
I should go.
Breathe. Don’t choke, don’t let him see your heart hammering its plea in your chest don’t let him know what you’ve done or why he can’t know, It’s late, you probably want to actually sleep. I should… Go.
This isn’t you.
This isn’t cold-hearted determination, this isn’t the fire in your veins compelling you to surge forward into the unknown expanses, bolstered by ambition, by passion, by spite.
And where did that get you?
Into the wrong kind of bed, sweetness.
Stand up. Stand up, surge forward on that tightrope and watch it unravel beneath your feet, it is not his affection it is your strength and you are crumbling, crumbling, down down down into the depths, you are falling.
And Andy Barber is holding your hand tighter by the wrist, is pulling you close, is wrapping you in his arms, is standing as the buttress against the collapse of all that you are, were, and would be, is whispering Hey, shh… you’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re safe, and you don’t feel safe, remember? But you’ll trust him, again.
And Andy Barber is broad-shouldered, is wrapped around you, is tucking you into the warmth of his embrace and you are giving in to the things you should not but You’re okay, I’ve got you, Sunshine, I’ve got you and it feels like drowning, it feels like fresh air, it feels like your lungs will never stop burning even as you surface from dark waters.
Andy, I can’t— you try to protest and it falls on deaf ears, it falls on his huff, it falls on the tightening of his arms around you and you cannot run. You don’t want to run.
Instead, Andy Barber holds you for what feels like forever and when you pull away it’s to let him wipe away the last of your tears, let him press lips to your forehead. The brush of his whiskers against your skin is enough, a moment of peace, a wake-up call and you blink up at him with eyes rimmed red and his are still that same well of endless warmth and the answers still have no voice but your demons can’t touch you here.
Not in this moment.
That’s my Sunshine, his voice is smoke and honey and you let yourself get lost in it again, the soft laugh of him as he tries to make you smile, lets you forget. The Politician’s careful hand, smoothing it all over.
Not so sunny now, you manage, and he laughs more than you do.
A little rain doesn’t make you any less.
You don’t tell him about the rest of the dark clouds on your horizon.
You don’t tell him of the thunderstorm threatening to strike you both down.
You kiss him instead. Indulge in the warmth of his comfort and press your lips to his, give in to his hands on your waist when they pull you so close the only thing you have to focus on is the softness of his lips. You kiss him and he returns it, gentle and yielding, the faintest sigh of relief breathed into your willing mouth, like completion, like fulfillment.
You kiss him, and it is nothing like you expect.
It is a question, an answer, a request, it is brief and then he pulls back and then he looks at you and then he shakes his head and, I’m taking advantage of you, Sunshine.
He spells it out. Lays it on the table, tells you his fears in six words and you swallow down the irrational rush of hurt before you nod. He can’t. He shouldn’t.
You’re right, I’m sorry, I— hurried, frantic, you have ruined everything you should never have and then he shakes his head and shushes you again and you are quiet.
So full of words. And quiet.
That doesn’t mean I don’t want to, Sunshine. But not tonight. Just stay, here, tonight.
And you do.
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Fuel to the fire - chapter 1 (prologue)
The one where Andy isn’t the type of man you can deny, even if what he wants is for you to become his mistress.
Andy Barber is a feared mobster and your best friend’s husband. There were more than enough reasons never to look at him twice. But when he lets you know that he wants you, there’s little you can do to stop the terrible trainwreck you know it’s coming your way.
for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.
Looking around your best friend’s living room, you patted yourself on the back for all the help you had given her in preparation for this evening. It would be her and her husband’s third anniversary and although you didn’t exactly understand why this was something that she wanted to celebrate with a heck of a lot of people, you could appreciate all the care she put in the event nonetheless.
It was the same care she put into every single event she had organized since she got married to Andy. It was funny to think back on the girl you knew from college - how different she was from the socialite who was now mingling with other trophy wives. You were pretty sure her younger self would be unforgiving of the personality she had assumed after the wedding, but you weren’t so shallow.
You could understand the need to fit in, the pressure she was under from having married so quickly, to someone from such a high status. Andy Barber was well-known throughout all of Boston, of course - but perhaps his status would be best described as infamous. He was feared by many, yet known by few, and even being his wife’s best friend didn’t grant you much personal interaction with him at all.
In fact, excluding the ceremony, you probably had seen him three times, all of them in his and Erica’s celebrations of their union. You were pretty sure the reason she had thrown herself into this hobby of organizing these sorts of events was precisely to fill the empty place where her husband should be every night, but perhaps that’s life when you agree to marry one of America’s greatest mobsters.
You were still unsure how that even happened, anyway. Although, you couldn’t help but envy her somewhat. Marrying straight out of college to a man of his power meant she didn’t have student loans to worry about, while you were left to count every dime to keep a roof over your head.
Sometimes you wondered if life had really treated her so well as to make her completely blind to your struggles. Of course, you knew you could have asked her for money anytime - you were pretty sure she’d give you some, perhaps even without asking for it back (lord knows she didn’t need it) but it was just too humiliating.
Besides, her husband intimidated you. In the few times you had to brush shoulders with him, his unwavering stare and undeniably good looks had you weak in the knees, and you didn’t find it all that weird when you looked over the other side of the room to find her resting against him. Anyone needed some sort of support when they were around that man.
Still, the scene felt a little bit out of the ordinary, and it took you some time to realize that in all the time they’d been together, you had never once seen him give her a loving caress - not even at their wedding celebration. But if she was happy, who were you to worry about what was very clearly a picture-perfect life?
The sound of your phone beeping tore you out of your thoughts. Looking down, you realized you’d gotten a message from the guy you’d been talking to for the last few days.
I think we’ve established there’s something here.
You bit your lip, pondering over the steamy messages you’d been exchanging. When you signed up on this app to sell some raunchy pictures for a few dollars, you didn’t expect to attract so much attention as to have someone offering you to pay you some pretty big bucks to keep your images sent exclusively to him.
You also didn’t expect him to be so intriguing.
There definitely is.
It didn’t take much longer for him to type back.
So why don’t you send me something nice to seal our deal, baby?
Glancing up, you scanned the room to check if anyone had noticed you standing in a corner, subtly clenching your thighs to alleviate some of the tension you were feeling. Surely, no one would notice if you slipped to the bathroom to send him a thank you gift for the few hundred dollars he’d already sent you. Even Andy was distracted, texting on his phone - probably making some more than sketchy business deals.
Give me 5
You knew dinner was still far from being served when you slipped back into the room - or tried to, at least, because just as you turned the corner in the hallway to get back to the main room, you bumped into what seemed like a wall of flesh.
“Easy, there.” You knew that voice. Your head instinctively snapped up to meet deep brown eyes that looked down at you with amusement written all over them. Andy, you realized, not entirely sure why the proximity had your brain completely scrambled. You wanted to associate it with fear, but the way you shivered lit up some warning signs in the back of your mind.
So you quickly tried to push yourself away, wanting him to know it was an accident. Of course, you knew Andy wasn’t someone to lose his temper that easily, but being in the enemies list of a known mobster wasn’t amongst your goals in life.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Barber,” you made sure to say, but he just chuckled and kept his hands on your hips, his thumbs rubbing them. Lingering.
“It’s alright, Y/N.” You never had the courage to address him by his first name, but he never once referred to you as anything else, and you couldn’t help but think the sound of it falling from his lips was just lovely.
Also, what the hell was this cologne he was wearing and why did he smell so fucking good? It made your mouth water and the alarms in the back of your had rose in volume, making you cringe.
You felt his stare burning you before he even said it.
“It seems like you’re allergic to bras, huh?”
You knew your nipples were showing, the room was too cold and with his proximity, you couldn’t help but feel a certain tension in the air, even if it was one-sided. But why would he point that out? Was he toying with you?
You felt like a prey under his stare, kept hostage by his hands, but just as the thought settled, he let you go.
“Pay more attention to where you’re going, hm?” And then he left in the direction you had been in, not even looking back your way while you just stood there, trying to get your heart under control.
What the hell was wrong with you? You really needed to stop before this got any weirder.
And yet, as you got back into mingling with people who couldn’t care less about you, you couldn’t help but think that Andy seemed exactly like the type of man who could hurt you and still have you begging for more.
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