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#dark Andy Barber
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Summer Breeze 1
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Was gonna be a drabble roulette. Fuck me, I can't do this right, can I?
Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad's friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.
I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!
Enjoy, my loverlies.
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You push yourself up from the air mattress, feeling the floor through the deflating cushion. You grumble and yawn as you rub your eyes. You stand up, the loose tank clinging to your stomach as you tug the hem of your shorts from the crease of your thigh. 
You don’t lament your accommodation. You know you’re a last-minute addition to the trip. The place is a bit crowded and you’re just happy to not be laid out in the dirt. Still a free vacation is a free vacation. You won’t complain for it. 
You stretch and pad to the door, careful not to disturb the bodies sleeping in the dual bunk beds. You’ve never been to a cottage before. This place is nicer than your house. Even if it’s a bit cramped. 
Your dad always complained about the mortgage and now you know why. He’s struggling to make his monthly payments and keep you in school, meanwhile the neighbour has a whole second house by a lake. You feel worse for your meagre contributions. Your part-time job won’t get your dad his own beach house. 
As you get to the door, you jump at the loud snort the cuts the air. Jacob rolls over and throws his arm over his face. He’s been at it all night. Him and his friends who crowd onto the single mattresses.
You get along but you’re not exactly a part of his usual gang. It was your dad’s idea to come up. You know he forgot it was his turn to have you for the summer. The awkward getaway is better than dealing with another of your mother’s boyfriends. 
Your weight creaks in the floor as you come down the hall and you stop short at the unexpected figure stood before the open windows. You hug yourself as wind blows in from over the water. You stare at Mr. Barber’s broad shoulders as he stands shirtless as he stares out at the morning landscape. 
You should go back. You’re always the first one awake at the sleepover. You lean back on your heel and the floor whines loud enough to give you away. You cringe. 
“Burton--” Mr. Barber grits as he glances over his shoulder, cutting himself short as he sees you. He turns to face you completely and coughs, “sorry, I thought you were your father.” 
“Um, no, sorry Mr. Barber, I was just... awake,” you utter dumbly. 
“Andy,” he corrects you. 
“Right, Andy,” you echo nervously, “I’ll just--” you point with your thumb over your shoulder. 
“It’s fine, I... I--” he stops and looks down at himself. He wears only a pair of shorts, “shoot, I--” he clears his throat and searches around, pulling on the button up hung over one of the dining chairs, “got a bit hot.” 
You notice the couch is all made up; crumpled blankets and a wrinkled pillow.  
“Your dad’s in my room. He had a bit too much fun with the beer,” he sniffs.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” you rub your neck. That’s not unusual. 
“You drink coffee?” He asks as he comes forward, “you college girls still have caffeine without all that whip and syrup?” 
You frown at the insinuation. He’s one of those; ‘in my day’, though you sense a flavour of misogyny too. You shrug. 
“I don’t drink coffee,” you answer as he nears, “I’ll have some water and lemon, if you have it.” 
“Lemon water,” he grumbles as he brushes closely, “you on a diet?” 
You squint and let out a scoff, “no.” 
He’s quiet as he looks in the fridge and takes out a large pitcher. His cheek ticks as he thinks, “not that you need to be on one... sorry.” He pours you a glass and slides it to the end of the counter, “no lemons.” 
“That’s fine,” you accept the glass. 
“Well, I was gonna say,” he scratches his beard as he backs up, his shirt still open, revealing his furry chest, “coffee always tastes better out on the dock but... you don’t drink coffee.” 
“Mm,” you hum, “well, thanks for the water. If you don’t mind, I might go out anyway.” 
He nods as he turns, popping open a cupboard to search out the canister of coffee. You linger, waiting for any response. He peels the lid off the container and glances over. His blue eyes makes you shiver. You don't know him very well, he only just moved in your first year of college. Your dad likes him but your his friends never want much to do with you. 
“I’m sorry if I’m bothering--” you begin. 
“Don’t mind,” he answers, “the company, that is.” He turns back to fill the machine and lets out a sigh, “not used to a full house anymore and I don’t think your dad will be up soon enough to share the pot.” He loads the filter and closes the lid on the percolator, “or the others...” 
“Probably not,” you agree. 
He peeks over again as he fills the carafe. You’re suddenly very aware of your own attire, or lack thereof. The loose tank, the floral shorts with the untied drawstring. You sip from the glass and give a sheepish smile. 
“Anyway, I need some fresh air,” you inch away as tap your fingertips on the side of the glass, “maybe I’ll see a few loons before they fly off.” 
His brows rise and fall and he turns his focus back to the sink. He shuts off the water and turns to the machine. You leave him, eager to be away from the tension of your unexpected encounter. On second hand, this is just as awkward as dealing with one of your mother’s random hookups. 
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hansensgirl · 2 years
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💭 — 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧
summary. — for so long, he’s wanted to hold you down and tell you that he loves you.
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pairing. — Dark!Stepdad!Andy Barber x innocent!fem!reader.
warnings. — DUBCON, stepcest, large age gap (andy is 51, reader is early 20s), coercion, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, grooming, taking advantage, perversion, possessiveness, obsession, isolation, loner reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, smoking, smut, Daddy kink, fingering, mentions of oral (both receiving), overstimulation, degradation, praise, blowing smoke in face, missionary, cowgirl, mentions of male masturbation, size kink (andy’s cock is huge), pet names (little girl, little one, baby, sweetie, sweet girl), creampie kink, reader is extremely innocent, inaccurate explanations of sex, virginity loss, spanking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. — 9k
author’s note. — here’s the continuation of my step dad!andy concept that i posted in may. this is before, during, and after the concept. i copy and pasted some of the concept and inserted it here! everything is legal. andy married the reader’s mom when the reader was 18, and he formed feelings for the reader then. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! @hansensfics
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Andy sighs deeply as he sits in his room, bones aching immensely. He’s been standing by the window, behind the sheer white curtains for far too long. Fifty-one years of turmoil have caught up to him, but thankfully, it doesn’t show as much as it should. 
He feels your discomfort as much as he does his stiffness. The awkward angle he’s been stuck in is a reflection of your personality. You never socialise like you should, and when you’re forced to, it’s all wrong. 
Andy hates seeing you out of your element. The sight of you sitting on a white lounge chair in a dress you clearly don’t like is painful for him. He knows you prefer his company—that’s why he’s always offering it. 
Today, he planned on showing you his notes from court on a case about a man assaulting his neighbour with a wrench.
It’s almost as if said wrench was thrown into his plans, because now he has to watch you try to keep up with the brain-rotting chatter of unruly college girls. 
Your mother had organised the day with her fellow neighbours who incessantly brought up how lonely you are at the community barbecues. Andy remembers that day very well—he caught you crying out of frustration when you didn’t want to go.
Endlessly, he’s had to tell your mother to let up and leave you alone. Andy understands how you are all too well. Lonely, but content. You never connected with anyone growing up and stuck to your devices—books that are either overrated classics or underrated masterpieces. 
It was no surprise that you were immediately drawn to the twice exiled, unlucky man. Like a moth to the flame, you looked at him with such wonder and stuck yourself to him, yet still remained far. 
Your close connection was only formed when he found you in a pile of tissues and drowning in your own tears. Seconds away from hyperventilating, he pulled you back into the ocean everyone calls reality. To this day, however, he still isn’t sure why you were in such a state. 
The laughter he hears is either fake or simply aggravating. He can’t find yours in that mess, though, and he tries to come up with a reason to take you away.
Andy is your stepfather—he can say anything he wants. Chores haven’t been done yet, your mom’s calling you, we have somewhere to be—I want you all to myself. 
But it feels wrong—feels fake. He strives for authenticity after years of ingenuity. Before, he’d patched the cracks in the facade of his forced suburban life before anyone else could see them. Now, he embraces the breakage. In fact, there is none, because there is no farce.
From the low level of the bed, Andy unfortunately cannot see you. Even though your company is the sun, you remain in a white dress. It’s the face of ingenues all around the world. You shield yourself from the scorching sun, the brightness making your eyes ache. 
The idea of making some lemonade (for you and only you) crosses your stepfather’s mind, and he decides to do it.
“Oh my gosh—So, basically, Elijah and I’s anniversary is coming up! Apparently, he wants us to go to Vegas, which I’m so down for. I’m not sure what to get him, though,” a woman in her early twenties, like you, nearly squeals. Her excitement makes you smile. “He’s not a fan of jewellery, so anything like that is out of the question…”
Her name is easy to remember, and very pretty as well. Gianna, and she’s an interior design major. 
A snort is heard from the chair over—Kennedy, who finds humour in anything and is the nicest to you. “Sex, sex, sex! Dude, that’s the easiest thing ever. Just indulge in whatever fantasy he’s got. Maid, landlord, plumber—”
“—Ha! Let him do anal, GiGi. Get a sparkly plug, some decent lube, and spread those cheeks,” the other friend, Imogen, giggles. She claps at the end of her sentence, and the three women laugh for a few seconds. 
“...We’ve already done anal. For his 25th…” The sheepish admission from Gianna makes her friends hoot and holler. You’re not sure what to say—you don’t understand. 
“Is there anything you haven’t done?” Imogen questions in shock. “Listen, y’know that frat guy that keeps hitting on me? Well, I gave him a chance and we were, y’know, getting it on,” she eagerly spills.
“Getting it on? Just say you guys were raw-dogging and spitting in each other's mouths,” Kennedy interrupts, sipping on a fruity drink. Honestly, they’re all sweet. They keep trying to rope you into their conversations, but you’re not sure what to say, so you stick to little hums and gestures. 
“Shush!—Anyway, we were fucking, and he started to talk a lot. And it was so hot, like he was saying the hottest shit ever. He checked every single kink-box!” Imogen brags, and the others are proud of her. “Like what?” Kennedy prompts, curious to the point where her eyebrows raise.
“Breeding, degrading, praising—even a Daddy thrown in every now and then,” she whisper-shouts. “And, get this, he made me squirt!”
The women continue trading stories about their debauched experiences, and you feel as if they’re speaking another language. You’re not sure what they mean or why the things happened. Questions fill your brain as you purse your lips, trying to give yourself the answers.
“—Uhm, I can take that in for you. I think I forgot to cancel this appointment and they keep you on hold for a while during the afternoon,” you lie, standing up and grabbing Gianna’s empty cup. “Oh, you’re so sweet. You’ll be back soon, right? We wanna get to know you better,” Kennedy says, and her girlfriends nod their heads.
You join them in their motions, before jogging to the sliding door and slipping past it. You place the cup in the sink, and then make a beeline for your room. It’s the space you spend too much time in, to the point that your stepdad has had to coax you out of it on numerous occasions. 
The ceiling is at an angle due to the triangular roof of your home. The decorations might not match but they add a cosy feeling that is reminiscent of autumn. You wish the season could remain all year round. 
There is even a window seat. Andy had it built and installed for you last year on Christmas. It was a dream come true—something you’d always wanted. 
You plop yourself onto the space and pull your laptop over. You turn off SafeSearch and look up the things the women were talking about. Videos with dirty thumbnails pop up, along with articles and a warning about the setting you turned off. You’re too scared to click on the videos, so you stick to reading the articles.
But the words don’t translate well in your mind. You feel like you’re the last person in line in a long game of broken telephone. You’re left with more questions than answers, and so you snap your laptop shut. 
Gnawing your lip, you let your curiosity eat away at you. It nags and it nags until you can’t take it anymore. So you wander down the hallway and stand outside the slightly ajar door to your stepdad’s room. 
“D– Daddy? Are you busy?” you shyly question, standing with your hands clasped behind your back. At the sweet sound of your voice, Andy immediately rushes from his place in front of the sink. His hands smell of your lotion—a bottle he stole from you because he couldn't help it. “No, not at all, little one. What’s wrong?”
The older man opens the door even more for you, ushering you inside. You sit on the end of the bed, and he joins you. Your palms grow sweaty as nervousness takes you over. Bite the bullet, it won’t hurt you.
“Uhm…” you start, “I have some, uh, questions.”
“Hit me. I have some answers,” Andy jokes. 
“Okay…” you unfold the sticky note of the things you wanted to know more about—the things your friends were talking about. “What’s a– anal? Like, the bad one,” you ask, whispering and worried.
Your innocence is like a drug that Andy has tasted for the first time and it has kicked in quickly. He swallows thickly and he wonders why you’re asking. 
“Well… There’s numerous ways to have sex… With penetrative sex, you can penetrate any of your holes. And, you see, you have three holes. Your mouth, a– and your private parts. Anal sex is when someone penetrates your butt, essentially,” he explains, not sure what words to use.
He watches as your face twists in confusion. “What do you mean? They can do that to any of your holes? Like, they put something inside?” you press, voice incredulous and shocked. “Yeah, they put something in, and they move it back and forth. There are things meant to go there, though,” Andy tells you.
Clearly, you still don’t really get it. It’s neither your fault nor Andy’s.
“I– I have more.. S’that okay?” Andy immediately nods his head, looking down to try and look at your list. 
“Squirting… Can you explain that one? Please? And why do people like calling other people mean things? And getting called those? I mean, I get why someone likes it when someone else says nice things—but the mean one, I don’t understand. And why do people like using the word Daddy? I thought that’s for certain people…” you ramble, pulling at the yellow paper until it slips.
“Shh… One at a time, baby. Squirting is something that happens during sex. It’s a kind of ejaculate. And with the mean names, it’s just what people like. It makes them all happy, y’know? All tingly on the inside—like when they get praised,” he says, cock fully hard and face flushed.
“Yeah, but, what’s sex? Oh! I get those tingles a lot… But not in my tummy…” you sheepishly admit, and it piques Andy’s interest. But then, he replays what you said. What’s sex? A question that normal people would laugh at—but Andy is anything but that. “...You don’t know what sex is, baby?”
You let out a whimper—something of frustration and fear and insecurity. It makes his cock throb within the confines of his pants. “...Nuh-uh,” you sigh, ready to dart and lock yourself in your room.
“Oh, that’s alright, baby. Don’t worry. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Daddy’ll explain it all to you—I’ll be your teacher,” he smiles, but then frowns when you shake your head. “B– But I don't understand any of it! Not when you explain it, and not when I read about it. It’s all so confusing and doesn’t make one bit of sense.”
Annoyance with yourself seeps from your words, and Andy detects the leak. He’s quick to patch it up, though.
“No, baby! Daddy’s gonna teach you it in an easy way! Remember how you didn’t know what acquittal meant? And I told you the definition? Now you tell other people what it means when they don’t know!”
Andy chooses to ignore the fact that it was only your mother who didn’t know what it meant. 
“But that’s different! Even if you explain it simply, my brain just won’t grasp the concept,” you try to reason, so desperate to learn about the things that other women your age are so well-versed in. “Can you show me it, Daddy? Please?”
Your stepfather nearly asks you to repeat yourself. Your request is innocent and full of desperation—you want to be in on the joke that everyone seems to know. His cock has chubbed up inside his boxers, begging for a release and even crying tears of pre-cum.
“You want Daddy to show you those dirty little things, hm? C’mere, baby. Daddy’ll tell you all about it,” Andy encourages, motioning with his hands for you to move closer to him. You scoot your body until your right leg touches his left. “You’re gonna be a good girl and do whatever I say, right?”
When you nod your head, the older man wonders if he’s won the jackpot. Luck is on his side, clearly. After years of struggle, he’s finally got a good thing. And he’s going to take full advantage of it—he’s going to cherish the treasure he’s been bestowed with. 
“Good girl—” Andy cuts himself off with a groan as you preen under the praise, “—so good for Daddy.”
Your stepdad slowly leans in and presses his mouth against yours. The kiss is searing and passionate, but it soon turns rough and possessive. You try to keep up with Andy as he claims your mouth—biting, licking, and sucking at your supple, wet skin.
He tastes of beer and cigarettes, and the smacking of lips grows wetter and sloppier. You let him take control and try to replicate some of his movements as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Andy holds the sides of your head with two large, strong hands.
But his touch is gentle and encouraging. You let the older man do whatever he wants to do, sure that you can ask him for another tutorial later on. Eventually, he pulls away with swollen, red lips and blown out eyes.
The pale blue (with a tinge of green) has disappeared. Like black paint spilled, darkness is all you can see. 
“You’ve got such a cute little mouth, baby. Think I can fit my cock in there, all nice and snug,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. You’re not sure what he means, but you go along with it and nod your head. Your eagerness is almost unreal—maybe because Andy has fantasised about it for so long.
Moments with his hand wrapped around his large, leaking cock after you said or did something his perverted mind twisted and misconstrued. Showers longer than they should be, and boxers gone in the wash sooner than they would.
“But don’t worry your pretty head with that just yet, little one,” Andy tells you, standing up and in front of you. He gently pushes you back on the bed, and you land with a small thump. Be brings your feet to rest against the edge of the mattress, caressing your skin with his rough, warm hands. “So soft…”
The lawyer brings your left leg up, and meets it halfway. He presses open-mouthed kisses on your moisturised skin, taking in your scent. Eventually the romantic feeling turns ticklish, and you giggle and try to writhe out of Andy’s grip.
Though, there’s a warm feeling that blooms in your cunt. You folds ache, but you’re not sure why. It’s like the tingles you seem to get every now and then, especially when you’re around the older man. 
“Daddy… I feel funny,” you tell him, and Andy halts his movements. 
“What do you mean, little girl? C’mon, tell Daddy,” he urges, genuinely curious. Is it fear? Excitement? Or something more physical? 
“Tingly… And warm… And it kinda hurts—but not in a painful way…” you try to explain.
“Where, baby? Show me where,” your stepfather demands. His eyebrows are mildly knitted in a bit of concern—curiosity. “D– Down there,” you whisper, looking away from his intense gaze. 
A broad hand that belongs to Andy makes a bold move. It moves to your mound, and pushes at your pussy. “Here, baby?” he nearly growls, feeling your warmth and folds through the two layers of fabric that protect you from this ravenous man. 
His fingers dig into your skin and find the bump of your clit, pushing on the nub and watch as you moan softly from the unfamiliar yet pleasurable sensation. “Uh-huh, right there, Daddy,” you mewl, subconsciously bucking your hips upwards.
The feeling is reminiscent of the kind you feel when you press your thighs together—just amped up by a few hundred volts. “Well, Daddy’s gonna make you feel better, okay, little one? This happens sometimes, and from now on, you gotta tell me whenever you feel those tingles. Understood?” Andy orders, and you shyly nod.
“Words. Use your words, little girl. I need to hear it.”
“Y– Yes, Daddy. I– I’ll tell you when I feel tingly—P– Promise.”
“Good girl.” Andy’s hands move to the waistband of your white skirt, and he pulls it down. Your panties go along with it, strings of wetness pulling and breaking when he gets too far. Your pussy glistens in the cracks of sunlight, his white curtains a blessing for once. “Such a gorgeous fuckin’ cunt.”
You bring your hand up to your face and shy away behind it, making Andy coo at you. He throws your bottoms behind him and pulls you a bit closer by your legs. He then looks up at you, pink tongue slowly darting out just a peek. 
Three of Andy’s digits move upwards. He gives them one long, slow lick, soaking them in spit. “Gotta open your legs wide, little girl. Can you do that for me, baby?” he requests, and you immediately nod your head. 
For your stepdad, you open your legs as wide as they can go without hurting. Anything he asks, you’ll do.
“Good girl,” he hums, and he brings his dominant, wet hand to your sopping cunt. Your stepdad tests the waters for a moment, swirling your slick around and caressing your swollen, achy folds. You gasp at the sensation as his large hand covers practically everything. From your clit down to your creamy fuckhole. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?”
You nod your head, and Andy smiles at you. “It’s gonna feel even better soon, little one. ‘M gonna get my cock in that little honeypot’a yours—fuck it nicely and ruin you for other men.” As he speaks, Andy maintains a trained gaze on you. “But you won’t have other men, will you?”
“You only want your stepdaddy, huh? Daddy’s girl—All mine,” Andy murmurs. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, gently biting down. “I gotta stretch you out first,” he tells you.
Andy pushes his pointer finger in first, and groans as your walls welcome it immediately. He lets the digit slip into you entirely, until it’s buried to the hilt. “You’re doin’ so good for me, little girl,” the older man smiles at you. 
Slowly, he begins to thrust in and out of your channel. His finger glistens with your creamy slick, and Andy curses. Once he believes you’ve adjusted to the first digit well enough, he pulls it out and prods two. 
“How was that, baby?” he questions, but you’re too breathless and at a loss for words to say anything. You give him a simple thumbs up, hoping it’ll suffice. “Use your words, little one,” Andy urges, and you whimper out a simple ‘was g– good’ for him.
“You’re soaking, y’know that? Makin’ a mess all over my hand,” he notes aloud. “So innocent but so needy… You make such a perfect whore for Daddy.” 
Andy thrusts two digits into your drooling hole, and he fingers you with that same slow pace. Every now and then, he makes scissoring motions meant to open you up even more. “Daddy… ‘s so much now. Feels even more tingly,” you tell him, looking at your stepdad for reassurance.
“That’s how it’s supposed to be, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he prompts, and you hesitantly nod your head. Andy is right—it feels so good. It’s like the fluttery feeling you tend to get, the one you felt just a few moments before, but it’s not nagging and it’s better in comparison. “Yeah, that’s it. Take Daddy’s fingers, slut.”
Your stepfather knows he shouldn’t be saying these demeaning things to you—shouldn’t be ruining you—but he can’t help it. 
It’s almost hypnotising with the way your cunt sucks Andy’s fingers in as he penetrates your tightness again. And the way you cling onto him as he pulls them in and out of you is downright pornographic—just like the sounds you’re making. 
“Bet you never even got this far, little one. All you ever did was rub this li’l cunny on whatever you could find, hm?” He wonders out loud. “Poor pussy’s been neglected. S’okay, Daddy’s here, baby,” Andy whispers, and he picks up the pace of his hand. 
He finds that rough, spongy spot inside you. It makes you toss your head back and squeeze your eyes shut, limbs trembling. “D– Daddy!” you cry out, confused yet welcoming his touches. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Andy soothes, stroking your sweet spot with his fingers.
Purposefully, he neglects your clit. He knows it’s pulsating—aching to be touched by your stepfather. Your volume raises just a bit, and his cock throbs with every other noise. Your pretty face has formed a frown of pleasure, and Andy thinks to himself he can really get used to this.
“W– Wait. Feels like I needa go to the bathroom…” you shamefully admit, and this time, Andy really chuckles. “You’re so cute and innocent, little one. Gonna give Daddy a cavity with how sweet you are,” he says, picking up the pace of his fingers. He makes sure to keep stretching you out, though.
“Feels like it’s burning and building, huh? That’s normal, baby. Don’t worry. Just take one more finger for me, okay?” Andy skillfully brings you closer and closer to your release. The wet, lewd sounds of your cunt grow louder. “You’re fucking soaking. S’that all for me?” your stepfather asks.
You don’t really know what he means, but you chose to nod your head. At your answer, Andy decides to push a third digit into your cunt. The fit is strugglesome—tight, warm, and snug. You can barely handle his thick fingers, pussy struggling to adjust to them at first. He can’t wait to get his cock inside you.
“H– Hurts, Daddy,” you whine, the stretch uncomfortable. Andy shushes you gently, whispering praises until the pain dulls away and all you can feel is fullness and pleasure. “You’re drippin’ everywhere, little girl. I can’t wait to get a taste of that sweet pussy,” he murmurs, and he continues to attack your g-spot. 
Your cries grow louder and more high-pitched, and Andy knows you’re close. The older man grunts, “That’s it, good girl. C’mon, give Daddy your cream, baby.” Your body goes from thrashing just a tiny bit to seizing when your orgasm hits. 
It takes you by storm. Your eyes squeeze shut and you sob, cunt clamping down on his hand. “Atta girl. Goin’ all dumb for Daddy—that’s what I like to see, little one.” Andy fingerfucks you through your climax, admiring the creaminess that coats his skin. He’s sure some has dripped down to your rosebud, and that makes him so hard.
“Oh– Oh my gosh,” you pant, tears stinging your eyes from the stimulation. “See what I just did, baby?” Andy questions. 
“Uh-huh.” He looks at you, carefully examining the fucked-out look you have on your pretty face. 
“Only Daddy gets to do that to you, little girl. No one else. Understood? You belong to me.”
Obediently, you nod your head. “Uh-huh. All yours, Daddy.”
Your words have his cock twitching underneath the confines of his pants. Andy slowly pulls his fingers out of your wet channel, consoling you when you whine from the sudden emptiness. Your fuckhole gapes just a bit, and it makes your stepdad eager to get his cock out. 
“Damn right, little one,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and pulling his thick cock out. “See this, baby? It’s Daddy’s cock, and it’s the only one you’re ever gonna go near. Y’know, your pussy was made for it,” he hums, stroking himself from the thick base to the leaky, bulbous head. 
Your mouth parts in interest. Whatever he says and does soaks right into that empty mind of yours. 
Andy pulls you up to the bed with his other hand, strength coming in handy. He puts your head on his pillow and then crawls between your legs, making you part them wide once again. He hovers above you, and you involuntarily clutch the blue fabric of his sweater for comfort.
The older man slaps the fat tip of his engorged dick on your clit, making you flinch from the jolt of pleasure. He then slides the head down to your slightly-stretched hole, and he begins to push in.
When your face contorts in confusion and mild discomfort, Andy is quick to tell you everything is okay. “Shh… It’s alright, baby. You’re fine,” he says, speaking gently and pressing chaste kisses to your face. 
He looks down to where his fat cock pushes into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your fuckhole as his. The sight is mesmerising, and Andy can’t help the groan he lets out from it. 
“Taking my cock like such a good little fucktoy. Fuck—you okay, little one?” your stepfather questions, and it takes you a few moments to respond to him. Slowly, you nod your head. Though the breach is unfamiliar and a lot to handle, you’re determined to be Andy’s good girl and fight through it.
There’s a pain that burns—and you bite onto his sweater to keep quiet. Andy examines your face as he continues to sheath his length inside you. “That’s my good girl. Feelin’ shy, baby?” he coos. “Aw, how cute.”
Eventually, your stepfather bottoms out with his heavy balls against your ass. He hums your name and the pet names he’s given you, waiting for you to pull your pretty face away from his chest. “Show me those doe-eyes, little one,” Andy requests. Slowly, you peek up at him.
Your eyes are big and they still hold that innocence that Andy knows he can’t rip away from you. “Good girl. How do you feel, baby?” he asks. 
“Uhm—weird? Feels different… Deep, too…” you process out loud, and the older man nods with your every word.
“Yeah, I’m so deep inside you, little girl. All the way in your belly.” The thought has him growling, and he begins to shallowly fuck you. You mewl with each of his half-hearted thrusts. The pain is soon replaced with pleasure, one that you immediately grow fond of. “There we go…”
“More tingles,” you note, punctuating your sentence with a gasp as Andy’s movements grow more vigorous. “So many, Daddy.” Your stepdad nods his head and smiles at you sweetly, “That’s right, little girl. That’s what happens when Daddy stuffs his fat cock inside your babycunt.”
When he calls you those two words—little girl—your body reacts. You shy away from him whilst your pussy clenches around his dick, and he bites back a loud groan. The veins at his throat bulge, while his jaw clenches.
“I’m gonna start fucking you now, little one. You just gotta sit there and take whatever I give you,” he forewarns, and you nod your head. “Okay, Daddy.” At your words, Andy begins to pummel in and out of your pussy. Obscene noises come from where you’re connected to him—wet sounds and skin slapping against skin.
Andy looks down and watches as his cock forcefully disappears and reappears, your tightness still not used to such a large intrusion. His heavy balls smack against your ass, where your slick stains. “Drippin’ everywhere, baby. You love this—I fucking knew it,” he grunts, his pounds the perfect speed and intensity.
His cock kisses your cervix each time, making you writhe in pain. But when he rubs against your sweet spot, that discomfort leaves almost immediately. “Look, little one, your cream is all over my cock. You’re leaking down to my balls—fuck,” Andy harshly pushes forward at the realisation.
You wail from the intensity. “Yeah, you like getting fucked by a dirty old man, slut? Hm? Like getting fucked by your stepdaddy?” Andy questions, and you hesitate before nodding your head. He swears once more, and then leans down. 
Though he’s repeatedly knocked the breath out of you, he now stops it from moving at all as he kisses you. At first, it’s soft and what teenage dreams are made of. But then, like the way he takes away your virginity, it grows rough and desperate. He takes the lead, shoving his tongue into your mouth and doing all kinds of things you can’t keep up with.
Andy eventually pulls away, noticing that his thrusts have dulled down. He picks his pace back up, his pelvis slamming into yours. Your cream coats his cock, leaving a stain that even reaches his patch of hair. Your lips are raw and glistening from the passionate, bruising kiss he had you locked in.
Your stepfather rams into your fuckhole without relent, forcing more of your wetness out with his shaft. His length strokes your sensitive walls with skill and aggression, abusing your cunt like he’s always wanted to. 
Your chest is pressed against Andy’s, and he uses one of the hands that holds him up to pull down the top of your shirt, exposing your hardened nipples. The cold air adds to the ache of them. “Stupid little girl making the biggest fucking mess on her Daddy’s cock. Y’gonna clean it up after, baby? You better—with that cute mouth of yours.”
Nodding your head, you make the older man inhale a sharp, controlled breath. In contrast, you pant like a bitch in heat as your chest rises and falls. There’s a feeling that grows at a fast pace. It’s like when you have to go to the bathroom so badly—except this time, it’s more intoxicating than intolerable. 
“D– Daddy! Feels funny—like before, but way m– more?” You’re so unsure of yourself—of your body—that it’s utterly adorable to Andy. 
“That’s called an orgasm, little girl. You just sit there and beg Daddy to let you come, okay?” he requests, and you nod your head.
It feels like something that needs to desperately continue and be alleviated—but you know only Andy can do that for you, so you do whatever your stepdad says.
“P– Please let me come, Daddy! Need to come so bad… Please, please please—!” you gasp loudly, Andy’s cock driving deeper and he grinds with each pump of his cock, rubbing against your clit. “Good girl—such a good little slut for Daddy,” Andy hums, sensing you’re even closer to coming. 
“Soak Daddy’s fat cock, little girl. C’mon, wanna see you make a stupid mess on this dick,” he commands, landing some slaps on your ass and the side of your left thigh. Your cunt suddenly convulses around him, clit thrumming and back arching as you come around his cock for the very first time. “Atta girl.”
He growls as your eyes roll back into your head, lids squeezing shut as your face pinches. Your mouth drops open in shock from the heat that envelops you. The grip your pussy has on Andy’s dick grows tighter, squeezing him and begging for more.
Your stepfather fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down just a bit when you begin to twitch from the pleasure. Your walls spasm until he manages to get you through the high, and then he resumes fucking you harshly. Your tits bounce with each slam of Andy’s hips, your body pushed upwards before he pulls you back onto his dick. “Ah—ah—ah,” you moan, going dumb on the older man’s cock. A mildly blank look is on your face, and you babble like a baby. 
“Dumb little girl—talking about dirty things and behaving like a whore when you haven’t even had big girl sex yet,” Andy sneers, grabbing your jaw and puckering his lips up. He spits in your mouth, before telling you to swallow the wad of saliva. Like a good girl, you do exactly as he says. You even smile at him afterwards, before your face pinches again from the sensations his cock brings. “Greedy girl—that hungry pussy is just swallowin’ up Daddy’s fat cock,” he grunts, forcing his thickness in and out of you.
Your toes curl and feet point as your stepfather pushes your legs against your torso. His strong, well-built arms flex, and so does his muscled-chest. Your hands clench his sweater and subconsciously grope his pecs, and you marvel at his figure. 
Because Daddy has to do everything for his helpless baby, he takes your arm and uses it to hold up your left leg, while his left hand pushes on your right. At this new angle, your stepfather’s shaft is far deeper than it was at first.
It’s almost dizzying—the way he’s practically in your tummy. And his thrusts are now stronger, too. Andy’s got you pinned to the bed as he pounds into you, determined to bring you to another orgasm before he blows his load. And even after that, he won’t stop.
“‘S so deep, Daddy! C– Can feel it in my g– guts,” you whine, and your words make Andy’s cock throb within your tight, wet walls. Your cream drips all over his cock, leaving a thick sheen and ring coating his base. Even his balls are soaked. “Uh-huh—you’re just so tiny, baby. Daddy had to force it in—but now you’re takin’ it like a champ.”
You preen under his gaze and his praise, but your tears still leak. “Aw, poor little crybaby. Daddy’s just fuckin’ you too good, huh? S’okay, I got you,” Andy whispers, wet noises filling the air along with the smell of sex. Your sweet tang is amongst the scent, and Andy knows that later on, he’ll rub your cunt raw with his beard.
“My little fuckdoll… This is Daddy’s pussy now—all mine, just like the rest of you,” he grunts, and your second release hits you all of a sudden. 
You writhe away from Andy as best as you can, but it doesn’t get you anywhere. Instead, your aching nipples end up rubbing against the stitched threads on your stepfather’s sweater, adding to your pleasure.
Andy’s thick length nearly splits you open, having a bit of a harder time to move with your increased tightness. “Good girl—that’s it, go dumb on Daddy’s cock. My good little slut,” he moans, peppering kisses at your jaw and nipping at the skin every now and then. 
Heat spreads inside your body as the mattress gets wetter with each drop of your arousal. “You’re makin’ a mess everywhere, baby. But it’s okay. Daddy knows that little girls like you can’t help it—you need Daddy’s help with everything.”
Mindlessly, you nod your head. You gush around Andy, coating his cock while you have him in a vice-like grip. Your swollen folds get nudged by his dick, and the sight is pornographic—something he can never forget.
“Looks like this cunt is perfect for Daddy to fuck, baby,” your stepdad tells you. “Made for me to use however I want. Gonna turn you into my little whore.”
Andy’s words make your pussy constrict even more around his dick. You practically choke him, begging for his cum without even realising it. “Daddy…” you sob, limbs trembling from the amount of euphoria his actions bring. Your stepfather’s jaw clenches at your use of the title.
“That’s right, little girl. I’m your Daddy,” he grunts, now using your fuckhole like it’s his fist. He fucks into your with vigour, determined to fill you up with his cum before he switches positions. He loves the struggle of getting his dick to fit inside your pussy. “You’re making Daddy feel so good, baby. ‘M gonna give you a nice reward for being so sweet.”
At his statement, you perk up as best as you can. Though it’s difficult to think or say anything. “R– Really, Daddy?” you question, elated at the thought of a reward. “Really, little one. You’re such a good girl for Daddy—all the time, too. Never made me have to spank that ass ‘till you’re crying.”
He mumbles the last part, but you catch a bit of his sentence. You don’t understand him though—crying? No, Daddy would never hurt you. Andy’s said so numerous times—times where you’ve cried in his arms and clung to him like a kitten.
Now, your cunt does the same. It weeps and doesn’t let go of Andy’s dick, and the mounting pleasure inside him is as desperate and needy, too. “Gonna give you a belly full of my cum, baby. I’ll fill you up until you’re leaking with my seed for days,” the older man grunts, before cursing wildly.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck.”
Suddenly, the snapping of his hips stops, and he shoves his cock forward until he can’t move any further. The harshness makes you frown, wincing at the mild pain. Then, warmth fills you up, undoubtedly claiming your walls and coating them with white stickiness. 
Andy pants above you, heart clamouring in his chest as he hit his release. He grinds into your pussy to prolong it, only stopping when his hard length grows sensitive. Already, his cum leaks from the sides of his cock. 
“There we go—now you’re all mine, little girl. And I know you like being Daddy’s,” he smiles at you, coming down from his high. His face has a blush to it. 
Andy takes one of his hands and puts it on your tummy, rubbing your skin slightly to get you to relax. It works—but not in the way he predicted.
“A– Again, Daddy? Please?” you start to beg, taking your stepdad by surprise. “W– What do you mean, baby?” he questions, moving his hand to grip your hip. “Do it again, please. F– Feels so good, made some of the tingles go away…” you explain, tightening your channel at the thought.
“You want Daddy to stretch this pretty pussy out again?” Andy asks. It takes you a few seconds and his index finger pointing to where he is penetrating you for you to answer. “Uh-huh!” you moan out, gyrating your hips to alleviate the newer, fluttery feeling at your core.
“Alright… Wanna play a fun game, little one?”
You nod your head, eager to spend more time with your stepfather.
“Good. It’s called horsey,” Andy says, slowly pulling out of your pussy. You whine loudly at the loss, cum leaking out of you and spilling onto the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain it for your little baby brain to understand.”
Your stepdad grabs your and manhandles your body, sitting against the headboard and placing you in his lap.
Your dripping pussy is against his hard cock. “All you have to do is bounce on Daddy’s cock—feel it? Yeah—and make it go really deep inside of you. Think you can do that, little girl`?” he says, rubbing his dick against your swollen, wet petals. 
Above him, you shudder. The pleasure is almost too much for your little-self to handle, but you push through its intensity. “O– Of course, Daddy! ‘M your good girl—gonna do anythin’ for you,” you mumble, and Andy’s hands pull at the cloth covering your torso. 
It then rips, and he removes the shreds from your body. “That’s right, baby. You’re my good girl,” he coos, reaching down to grab the thick, wet base of his hard cock. He gives himself a few languid strokes, before lifting you up a bit.
The fat, sensitive tip of your stepfather’s cock prods at your hole that’s still mildly stretched-out from his brutal fucking. Andy pushes in, pulling you down a bit so you meet him halfway. He knows it’s going to be deeper than ever—and he can’t wait to see that dumb, empty look on your face when he bottoms out.
But then he looks at your mug, and he finds himself feeling something rotten. Something terrible, sinking in his chest until his lust takes over and turns him selfish once more. No—not selfish… Just complicated.
“Daddy, feels scary,” you admit, trying to fall forward and lay against his chest. Andy tuts, holding you up and giving you one of his charming, sweet smiles. “It’s okay, I got you. Daddy’s here, little one,” he assures you, tone saccharine in a stark contrast to his dirty actions.
As you slide down his length, it becomes more difficult to take him. You try to move away from the older man—run away from his intimidating cock. “Nuh-uh. I thought you wanted to play with Daddy, baby,” Andy pouts, and your heart breaks from his sadness.
“C– Can’t take it, Daddy,” you explain to him, half of his dick inside of you. “Yes, you can, sweetheart. Let Daddy help you, it’s okay.” 
Andy’s hands hold your waist, and he looks down to where he’s connected to you, and suddenly thrust upwards. You fall forward with a cry, unprepared for the new angle. He lets you seek comfort in him and his sweater once more, rubbing his hands up and down the length of your back. 
“Shhh… you’re okay, it’s okay. You’re lucky Daddy pumped your pussy full of cum, baby. It would’ve hurt way more,” your stepfather tells you, waiting for your whimpers to die down. “Daddy’s dick is so deep inside you, hm?”
You nod your head slowly, gripping his sweater and pushing your face into his chest. “I know, little one. But when you start to play, it’ll be fine. Try bouncing, baby. Just move up and down.”
Once again, you nod and try to sit up. Andy’s hands move down to your waist, and you splay yours on his clothed pecs. “Up and down—c’mon, you can do it. Daddy knows you can,” he urges, and you begin to lift your body up. 
You stop when you feel it’s right—when half of Andy’s thickness is left inside you. Then, you slide back down. A growl rumbles in the older man’s chest, his cock throbbing as your walls stroke him. “W– Was that good, Daddy?” you question.
“So good, baby—have you played this game before?” he playfully asks, but then that humour turns to jealousy. The thought of you riding another man’s dick has Andy fuming—possessiveness boiling hot inside him and reaching the temperature of the sun. “Nuh-uh. Only you, Daddy. Nobody else.”
Like salve on a wound, you heal that vulnerability of his with your words. “Atta girl,” he praises. “How about we add a fun little rule, sweetie?” he offers as you continue to glide up and down on his cock. You whimper with each movement, muscles burning from the strain.
“O– Okay, Daddy. W– What’s the rule?” you innocently question, looking at him with your doe eyes. “Everytime Daddy slaps your ass, you have to move quicker, okay?” your stepfather tells you, moving his palms down to the globes of your ass. He caresses the skin gently.
Before you can worry about the pain, Andy lands a sharp smack to your butt, making you yelp. You pick up the pace of your movements, still careful, however. “Such a perfect pussy, little one. So tight and warm and wet… And made for my cock,” he whispers, punctuating his sentences with spanks.
Unfortunately, Andy’s cock doesn’t kiss those spots with expert aim. And you’re too scared to take his entire length. So, your poor legs give up, and you fall forward again. You cry out from the wasted euphoria—gone is the dull fire inside you. But not entirely.
“Aw, you can't do what Daddy does, hm? Poor baby. You need me so bad,” your stepdad coos, but it’s more like he rubs your failure in. “Dumb little girl—acting like a whore even though you can’t ride Daddy’s cock. How silly of you—don’t you feel stupid?”
You let out a whine that turns into a sob, and Andy quickly shushes you. Stupid Andrew, he chides himself, hurting this sweet thing… Don’t you love her? “Baby?” he calls out, trying to coax you out of the shell you’ve crawled back into.
His cock isn’t buried to the hilt like it was before, and the ache between your legs still needs to be taken care of—Andy’ll fix that after. He wedges his hand between your face and his body, pushing you off him roughing and holding your hand in his palm. You frown and cry out from the pain, face twisted in discomfort. 
“‘M sorry, little one. Daddy's sorry. Fuck—can’t help it,” he slurs, hating himself for getting so rough with you. But it’s not his fault he’s this way. You just awaken something ferocious in him—something that needs to be held down with chains and locked away in a cage for eternities. 
Something so terrible yet so addictive. 
“I love playing with you so much—that’s why Daddy hurts you, little one. I love you, I just get excited sometimes,” he explains, cupping your cheek and smiling at you. Eventually, you come around. “S’okay, Daddy,” you whisper, looking downwards. 
“It’s my turn to play horsey now, little girl. All you have to do is sit up straight, okay? Try not to lay on Daddy.”
Andy’s heels dig into the mattress and he bends his knees just a bit, still holding onto your hips. He looks down to where he breaches your tightness, and notices the tinge of pink that mixes with his spunk—the same cum that leaves out of your fuckhole.
At that moment, he ignores it. He stores that thought for later—for when he’s lonely and desperate to feel guilt. Andy bottoms out inside you slowly, enjoying the lewd squelching sounds that come with his action. “Oh, gosh,” you murmur, eyes rolling back into your head.
The hairy base of his cock touches your core, and his balls rest against your ass. Andy’s hands move to your butt, and he spreads your cheeks apart. One of his fingers prods at your other hole. The older man has half a mind to defile your little rosebud that’s sticky with wetness and his cum.
You can feel Andy’s cock so deep inside you; it’s dizzying. The breath is nearly knocked out of you, and you feel as though you’ve bared something to your stepfather that has left you utterly vulnerable. The feeling has you distraught, but Andy told you he’d take away all your thoughts, so it’ll be okay. Right? 
“You're such a good girl for me. So good. My good girl,” Andy grunts, and he’s lifting you off his cock until just the tip remains inside you. His hips then return to the depths of your wet channel. He starts to fuck up into you, and the familiar sound of skin-on-skin reverberates throughout the room. This time, it’s louder.
Andy stares at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to study each aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he shoves his thickness into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him.
“Daddy—Daddy—Daddy!” you squeal, toes curling and limbs stiff yet twitching. Is it possible to be hooked on the way someone says something? You’re not a ‘someone’ though—you’re so special and so different. The answer must be yes. It must be normal, too.
Your tits bounce with each of his upward-thrusts. This new angle is unlike anything you’ve ever felt—more profound and accurate. Your stepdad fucks into you with such roughness that it’s hard to keep upright. Especially with the building sensitivity in your lower abdomen.
“Fuck, yeah. Take Daddy’s fat cock in this tiny cunt, little one. Fucking take it, slut,” Andy grunts, getting meaner by the second. It’s a helpless habit, and thank heavens that you don’t understand half of the words he’s saying. 
A blank smile spreads itself on your face, but your eyes are full of hope. Hope that you’re doing good for your Daddy. 
“You’re my good girl. My good girl—my dumb little girl. No thoughts in that head, hm? You just wanna please your Daddy and get fucked until you can’t think anymore,” he spits, and the word that diminishes your intelligence has your bottom lip wobbling. 
You want to please your Daddy, but you must be doing something wrong, no?
“Aw, don’t cry, little one. Daddy’s being nice to you, okay? It’s good like this!” Andy quickly tells you, slowing down his thrusts. He grinds into you in the meantime, and he doesn’t miss the way your cunt is gripping him even tighter. “O– Okay, Daddy. T– Thank you?” you apprehensively say, unsure of so many things. 
“Daddy’ll teach you all about it after. Okay? You’re so cute and polite, little one. You’re doing so good for me,” Andy coos, rubbing a thumb on your face. You grin at him before squeezing your eyes shut, feeling that funny sensation inside of you. 
It worsens as your stepfather continues to fuck your guts, stroking your walls with his thick member. In the midst of his actions, Andy craves a cigarette. He wonders if you’d let him blow smoke in your face since you said he can do whatever he wants to you. Of course, you would—you’re such a good girl. 
“Wanna make Daddy even happier, sweetie?” he wonders, stretching one of his arms to reach the bedside table. He pulls the top drawer open and blindly sifts through it. “O– Of course, daddy. Please? Wanna make you happy,” you plead, absentmindedly gyrating your hips on your stepdad’s cock.
Andy finds the lighter grouped with the pack of Parliament cigarettes. He doesn’t bother closing the drawer, but he does bring you closer and forces you to catch yourself on your hands.
Your stepfather—who had promised your mom that he kicked the habit—plucks a smoke from the box and places it between his pink lips. “Daddy? What are you doing?” you question, halting your movements. Andy smiles at you, the cigarette wobbling a bit.
“Don’t worry your little baby brain about it, sweet girl,” he simply tells you, before lighting the cigarette. He takes a drag from it and puffs the smoke back out, satiating the craving he had a few moments ago. He then places it on the ashtray as you watch the grey smog swirl in the blue of his room.
Andy pulls you towards his chest and holds you, fucking up into your cunt. His cock drives in and out of you, balls slapping against your ass and his thick thighs jiggle each time. 
“Uhm… Oh–! Uh, Daddy?” you murmur, finding it harder to breathe. “Shh… Don’t worry, little one. Just soak Daddy’s fat cock,” Andy shushes, and you mewl at his filthy words. 
Your cunt aches immensely, but it’s the kind that is more resounding and pleasurable than anything. Andy abuses your cream-filled fuckhole like it’s all he can do—all he knows how to do. Make you feel good—that’s it. 
He’s spewing grunts and curses, and each time he utters a filthy word, you take note of how gravelly his voice is, how it rumbles in his chest and you can quite literally feel it. It’s a harsh contrast to your high-pitched wails and choked-out moans. 
“Come, little one. C’mon, fuckin’ make a mess for your Daddy,” he demands once more, punctuating his words with hard thrusts. 
Your body comprehends his words, and it starts to have that reaction.
The one where your back arches yet your limbs flail and your head tries to pull away from the crook of his neck. It’s almost as if you’re trying to run away from your stepdad. He won’t let you go, though—he never will. Yet it makes him so hard when you try to escape. 
Your mind soars high above the cotton candy clouds of your skies. You start convulsing around Andy’s member, creaming and soaking him. Your body freezes and you let out a wail that is music to his ears. He cheers you on with small ‘yeah’s that have you giggling slightly. “Good girl.”
Your tits jiggle, and your body jerks upwards as Andy roughly fucks you through your orgasm. “D– Daddy,” you mewl, and Andy simply begins to fuck you quicker. Eventually, those sparks he brought became too much. You’re not sure what to do, though, so you simply writhe on his lap. 
“‘M gonna fill you up again. Gonna pump this cunt full of cum until you’re leaking for days. Turn you into my messy little girl,” your stepfather says through grunts and growls as he sloppily uses your pussy. You nod your head and grin, wincing every now and then.
The older man’s sloppy, selfish pumps grow erratic. Andy then stills deep inside your cunt, burying himself to the hilt. A guttural moan leaves him, one that is louder than intended. He holds your body tightly, not wanting to let go of you.
His white ropes paint your inner walls until the sides of his cock are dripping, and there’s a ring at the base. Spilling inside you, Andy turns you into his cumdump once more. “Fuck,” he groans, your tight pussy tempting him to go again and again. 
Maybe he will. His cock remains locked inside you, and both of your chests rise and fall with exhaustion. “Daddy…” you whimper, cunt sensitive and stretched out from his engorged dick. 
“Shh… Daddy’ll take care of this greedy pussy again, little girl. Don’t you worry,” Andy tells you.
Your hands are on his body, and you brace yourself up using his waist. It’s hard to stay upright with the weakness of your body and the wobble of your arms. 
Andy reaches for the ashtray and plucks the cigarette back up. He dusts the ash off, and puts it back between his lips. He inhales the smog, and then pulls the smoke away to puff out the grey fumes. 
“That’s dirty, Daddy. Don’t do it, please,” you bemoan, curling in on yourself at the sight of your stepfather harming his health. “Well, I guess that makes Daddy a dirty old man, no?” he half-quips. 
Your stepfather takes another drag, and then he pulls you close to his face. Andy exhales, smoke directed in your face and he catches you at the right time. You take a breath in, unexpectedly drawing in the fumes of his cigarette.
You giggle apprehensively—still worried and it’s written all over your face, even if you don’t mean it to. You’ve got that look you always have when you’re trying to fight back your sweet tears, trying not to burst into sobs. Eventually, the smoke goes away. But the revolting smell of it remains, lingering in his room. 
In Andy’s mind, it only makes sense a dirty old man like him would have an equally as nasty habit. 
And to balance it out, an innocent little girl like you on his cock. 
8K notes · View notes
krirebr · 8 months
Text
Caught Up in Your Trap
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Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.
Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.
Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 
He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.
“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”
“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”
Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”
The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”
They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.
The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 
Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.
Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 
Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”
Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”
“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.
Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.
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This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.
The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.
Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 
The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.
He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.
Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.
You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 
You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”
He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”
This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”
He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 
Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”
He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”
That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.
“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”
Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.
He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”
You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.
He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.
“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”
You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 
He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”
You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.
The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.
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You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.
You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 
Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.
“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 
You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 
Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.
Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.
He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”
“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.
“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”
You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 
“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”
What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.
Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.
“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  
“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.
“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”
He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”
He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”
You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”
He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 
You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 
When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 
When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 
As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.
After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”
God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 
He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”
You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.
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Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?
You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 
And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.
You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”
Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”
His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”
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time to go home
Pairing: Mob!Andy Barber x female!reader
Summary: You thought you'd slipped out of his grasp but you should have known better than to underestimate Andy Barber.
Warnings: petnames (honey), dark!Andy, threats of violence, controlling behaviour. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.
Author's note: It's rare I go a bit dark but this was very fun to write and I am not above writing more (word count: 659)
"You look beautiful, honey."
Your blood runs cold at the sound of his voice. The deep baritone causes goosebumps to rise across your skin and a shiver to run down your spine.
You had been so careful. You changed your name. You moved state. You waited. You waited years before letting yourself live again. Before letting yourself believe you were safe, that he would never find you.
You'd been wrong.
His name is nothing but a whisper on your lips as you urge yourself not to cry.
You hear the door shut softly the lock clicking into place as your heart sinks.
"I told you I'd find you."
His voice is closer now and you know better than to turn around. You can feel your muscles tensing with every painful second that passes as you wait for him to come closer to you.
This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. In thirty minutes you were supposed to be walking down the aisle to start the rest of your life with the man you loved.
"You don't love him, honey. Not like you love me."
You spin around on instinct, forgetting exactly who you are dealing with as you prepare to give him a piece of your mind.
"How dare-"
He cuts you off with a laugh and a tight grip on your jaw.
"How dare I?" he laughs, but there's no humour there. Pulling you closer until you're against his chest, wincing as his fingers dig into your cheeks. "How dare you, honey. I've got to say you didn't make it easy. How long has it been exactly?"
You don't answer. Putting all your energy into keeping your tears at bay as you look into the cold eyes of the man you once loved, the man you now feared.
If you had known what Andy was, you would have never let yourself fall into his trap. But, hindsight was a wonderful thing.
Andy was charming, doting, protective and handsome. He was everything a girl dreamed of. He treated you like a queen, you wanted for nothing.
But there were two sides to every coin.
For as charming as Andy was he was just as manipulative. For as doting, he could be just as cold and indifferent. For as protective, he was even more possessive.
You knew Andy was a powerful man from the moment you met him but you had no idea just how much power and influence he possessed.
He made you dependent on him, had you let go from your job, and cut off from your family and friends. You became isolated. He was your only source of comfort and he never let you forget it.
"That's not what love is, Andy," you whisper, no longer able to keep your tears at bay.
The dark look in his eye should scare you but you've seen it enough times. Accustomed to what it means and you know you're not getting out of this this time.
"Just please don't hurt him," you whimper. Thinking about your fiance waiting for you at the end of the aisle.
Andy shushes you gently, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks, "Oh honey, you're really not in a position to be making demands."
Your eyes widen as a sob tears out of your throat.
Sighing, Andy rolls his eyes at your tears, clearly bored by your attachment to a man who isn't him.
"Fine, I'll let him live," Andy concedes, one hand slipping down to wrap around your throat.
You choke on a sob as his hand tightens enough to convey his next warning.
"But if you ever try and leave me again, I will put a bullet between the eyes of everyone you care about. Do you understand?"
You nod weakly, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.
"Good girl," he purrs, placing a soft kiss against your lips and sealing your fate, "let's go home."
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This was fun!! I wouldn't mind writing more if any one has any thoughts... thank you for reading, as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ✨💜
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cottagecheese1 · 5 months
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unhinged worlds 3
summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new beginnings, but what happens when your new beginning comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them.
paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea. warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.
Series master list right here
This all seemed so wrong–actually it was wrong. The way Andy was eating you out like a madman between your thighs seemed too good to be true, and the fact that some deep part of you liked this made you shiver. Maybe it was because of the foreign praise Johnny and Colin gave you while you squirmed in their grasp while desperately trying to give yourself an ounce of freedom.
“Aww, honey I just know you’re so close already”, Colin said with a mocking grin.
Apparently, Andy didn’t seem to be fooled by your desperate attempt to conceal the moans that were forced out of the back of your throat, because you felt his mouth attach to your clit and aggressively start sucking. You suddenly jumped back, trying to create some sort of distance between the both of you. Andy then just wrapped his arms around your thighs–pulling you closer, which caused a sudden spasm to exit your body.
“Mmm, look at you sweetheart, all sensitive and shit,” Johnny cooed while pinching your exposed nipples, which caused you to let out a weak squeal.
Colin chuckled and squeezed your other nipple roughly, “She’s just a Baby Johnny, she obviously can’t help it,” he said as he leaned down and pecked your forehead. “can’t you Honey? You’ve never felt this good, have you?”
You really haven’t ever felt this good before. Not that you would ever let any of the three men know that, but the desperate whine you let out as Andy shoved his tongue deeper inside of you just made the two men taunt you more, and the unwanted pleasure that Andy was giving you and with the crude words that spilled out of Johnny and Colin–you could feel that tension building up in your lower stomach want to unravel.
Johnny brushed your hair off your sweat covered forehead with his hand, then leaned down to give you a slight peck on your temple, “C'mon sweetheart, go ahead and cum for me–I know you want to.”, Johnny said with a teasing coo.
Andy then reached up to rub your clit, and that was your breaking point. You no longer could hold in that burning sensation, so you just let it go–feeling your body unravel all at once felt like heaven–you must have not noticed the pornographic moan you let out because the chatter of how ‘pretty she sounds’ came to topic.
As soon as your senses finally came back, you didn’t feel loved or cared about at all. You felt dirty, used even. As you lay on the couch with teary eyes, trying to keep up with the sound of your heartbeat, just so you could try to focus on anything other than the situation you're currently in.
Andy snapped you out of your train of thought when you felt your body being set up to lean against Johnny. Suddenly feeling exposed you bring your knees up to your chest while trying to somewhat cover your exposed chest, but considering the only two bare naked people in the room are You and Johnny–it didn’t seem to surprise you.
Andy then grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, so your gaze was meeting his, then he said, “You did really good honey, I know that was scary, but you sat there and took it like a big girl. Daddy’s so so proud of you.”, he then leaned in to give you a soft kiss on the lips.
Even though his praises did make you feel a little better–you couldn’t stop shaking–the heater broke at the end of spring, so it was always extra chilly in your house. That's why you always wore comfy sweaters around.
Johnny seemed to notice how much you were shivering when he wrapped his arms around you because he said, “You cold baby? Don’t you know I’m a human furnace?”, he asked with a teasing tone. You responded with a small, “yes..I’m cold”, and Johnny seemed to take that as a pass to go ahead and pull you on top of his lap while he adjusted his arms to wrap around you more tightly.
You didn’t even notice Andy left because he came back with what looks like one of his cable knit sweaters and a fresh pair of panties, then he made his way over to you with long strides before kneeling in front of you.
“Daddy got you a nice cozy sweater and fresh pair of panties for his special girl.” Andy said softly as he pulled the overly large sweater over your head and pulled the cotton panties up your legs.
Colin cooed teasingly at your flushed face before saying, “aww, that was nice sweetheart, what do you say?”, you looked down at your lap and fidgeted with your fingers–trying to hide your flushed face.
Andy chuckled before responding for you, “Don’t tease her, she’s just a little shy right now. Isn’t that right honey?”, you look at Andy's smug expression before nodding.
He kisses your forehead before standing back up and sitting by you and Johnny, “That reminds me, your uncle Lloyd is coming tomorrow to stay for a while–you don’t know him honey, but-”, Andy gets cut off by Johnny when he quickly responds with, “That fucker is NOT my uncle. Why is that asshole coming anyway?” Andy rolls his eyes at his banter before he continues.
“Well, I’ve been telling him about our little angel, and he wants to come and see her.”, Andy says sternly. This conversation between them both seemed to make you perk up because, who is Lloyd? Why has he been telling this man about you?
Andy seemed to sense your concern, so he pulled you onto his lap, “Oh honey, there's no reason to be worried...”, he said before he adjusted you on his lap, so you were straddling his legs, then he rested his hands on your hips.
Andy then continued, “Lloyd really likes you sweet girl, so there would be no reason for him to be mean to you unless you’re not very nice, but I won’t have to worry about that because you're a good girl, right?” You paused, trying to process his words, but the expression on his face said, ‘give me an answer now.’ so you just nodded.
“Words angel, I wanna hear that pretty voice.” Andy said sternly, so you responded “Yeah”, you could tell that wasn’t what he was looking for, but he seemed to settle thankfully.
Colin then pitched in, “don’t believe him baby, that guy is a total asshole–he’s probably into some fucked up shit-” Andy cut him off quickly before scolding, “Stop that, you’re scaring her..remember you’re in my house Colin.”
This new information makes you nervous. Scared actually. What if Colin was right–just like he was right about Andy. All you felt right now was overwhelmed and afraid, you never asked for any of this, so now you could only assume this random man was gonna come here and do worse things to you.
You could feel a sob bubbling up in your throat, chest tight, heart racing, you don’t know why you felt embarrassed about the tears that were running down your face. They are the ones doing this to you, it's not your fault, but you couldn’t seem to think when you were hyperventilating and a fresh rack of sobs coming out all at once.
Andy tried to calm you down, rubbing your back and squeezing you in a tight hug did little to cease how upset you felt, “sweetheart, look at me.”, you couldn’t think all you could do was trying to get away from him–you hated how he touched you–how safe he made you feel, how gentle he was. You hated this but you couldn’t help but look at him when he told you too.
“Such a good girl..I know you’re overwhelmed honey, but nothing bad is ever gonna happen to you when you’re here. Lloyd is not gonna hurt you because he knows he needs to be gentle with you.” Andy said as he pressed your head into the crook of his neck.
Johnny leaned over to rub your back and pressed a kiss on the top of your head before saying, “Colin was just exaggerating baby, he’s not that much of an asshole.” Johnny then got up and stretched his arms above his head before continuing, “In fact, he’ll probably treat you just like his little princess, I bet you’ll end up loving it as much as he does.” he ends as he walks away with a yawn.
You could hear a distant “goodnight”, being called, but you just laid against Andy’s chest–listening to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke once more, “He’s right honey, everything is gonna be okay..I’d explain more but you look sleepy, you wanna sleep with daddy tonight? I give great bedtime cuddles.”
You yawned tiredly before snuggling into his chest more and closing your eyes, letting sleep take you over. Andy chuckled before peppering a bunch of kisses on your face, “Alright cutie, let’s get you to bed. Goodnight Colin don’t say anymore shit like that again.” he said while giving a glare to Colin.
“Night’ Mr. B, tell my baby I said goodnight.” Colin responded with a smug grin.
Andy gave him a groan and carried you bridal style to his bedroom–setting your sleeping figure under the duvet. He walked over to his side of the bed, sliding his shirt off while watching your sleepy figure. Andy slid under the blanket beside you and reached over your head to turn the lap off. He pulled you closer to his chest and kissed the crown of your head.
Andy yawned quietly, “goodnight honey, I love you.”
Tag list.
@xycnsstuff
@wolfsmom1
@abbyyourlocalmilf
@jeelsinha
A/n: its currently 12am, sorry I took such a long time for part 3, enjoy! (let me know if you would like to be tagged.)
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Don’t Speak Masterlist
Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Andy Barber)
Status: In Progress
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27
Part 28
Part 29
Part 30
Part 31
Part 32
Part 33
Part 34
Part 35
Part 36
Part 37
Part 38
Part 39
Part 40
Part 41
Part 42
Part 43
Part 44
Part 45
Part 46
Part 47
Part 48
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littlemelaninfics · 5 months
Note
Could u please write a dark non con cevans or andy or loyd i beg
A/N: this is so short bc i have work, but enjoy and thank you for the request. I woke up to this request when I saw this post. This is based off of that 💕
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"We're making a baby tonight, not trying for one."
He didn't give her an option. She knew he was all or nothing and the second she uttered the words "I Do", he took everything.
She had stopped struggling a while ago, the vicious rocks of her body pushing the remaining tears out. Waking up with bruises was nothing new. It was the thought of waking up to the rest of her life that made her want to swan dive off their luxury hotel balcony. She had no plan, no savings, no way out.
After losing his ex-wife, Andy had a reputation to maintain. He knew knocking her up before walking down the isle was not a way to be taken seriously in his hoity toity town. That's why he loved bombed her. And manipulated her. And twisted her. He knew he had her the first time he struck her.
It didn't take long for her to be pushed and pulled, quite literally at times, but she was officially weighed down when she woke up one morning with a giant rock on her finger and a wedding invitation on her bedside table.
Andy wanted-I'm sorry, Andy was getting more children and he was done waiting. He rushed wedding, gushing to anyone who asked that why wait for true destiny. He had decided that her destiny was to bare his children.
She was snapped from her mind when her air supply was cut off. Mixed with the weight of his body on top of hers, she started to panic. She tried to thrash and pry as best she could, only to be met with solid resistance. She was trying to scream, finally getting one out when Andy adjusted his hand. He covered her mouth, pushing his hand down hard on her gums while he drove his cock deeper.
She couldn't breathe properly, but tell he was close. She shut her eyes, wanting to visually remember as little as possible. Andy grunted and moaned before falling limp on top of her. She still had her eyes closed, trying her best to listen to the bustling nightlife beneath her. She knew this would be an everyday occurrence until she got pregnant and since Andy has wanted her carrying his child for some time now, she also knew it would never stop as her body enters new phases that he forced it to.
116 notes · View notes
rainydayandmondays · 9 months
Text
Secret Santa is Coming....
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Summary: Time for the Secret Santa gift exchange and Andy knows you deserve only the best gift. And who says it can’t be a gift for both of you.
Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, female masturbation, voyeurism, Daddy kink, slight non-con
Author’s Note: A follow up to the Thanksgiving Potluck. I don’t think Andy is okay with just a one-shot with his sweet girl.
“Mr. Barber.”
Andy looked up to see you standing just inside his doorway. Your hands dropping to be held in front of you, he watched as you momentarily shifted from foot to foot. You were uneasy and that should never be how you feel around him. He dropped the affidavit he had been reading back to his desk, before rolling his shoulders, and sitting back in his chair. Something had you skittish and he wouldn’t have that.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
You bow your head at the nickname, your bashful reaction to it would never get old with him. However, he did try to use it sparingly. Waiting until you two were mostly alone, he would softly say it and watch you smile before catching yourself.
“Can I talk to you about something?” You looked at him, your brow furrowing as you waited for his response. Something was wrong. He could feel his own unease build up the longer he watched you, your fingers now fidgeting in front of you.
“Is that even a question? Of course, you can,” He gestured to the seat in front of him.
You seemed to loosen up at his response, your hands dropping the gripped hold you had them in. Turning to close the door behind you, you gave him a small hopeful smile before taking the offered seat.
He continued to sit back, despite wanting to inch closer to you. You were calmer now and he didn’t want to break you from that peace that you had regained, “What’s going on?”
You took a quick inhale before asking your question, “Are you the one leaving coffee on my desk every morning?"
The coffee. You knew about the coffee. After Thanksgiving, he hadn’t wanted to give up the feeling he felt watching you enjoy him so much. He embraced the flashes of you licking your lips after finishing his potluck offering. They would keep him busy popping up over the long holiday weekend.
Laurie had ordered in catering for their family meal. Things were starting to pick up for her at work as they entered the holiday season. Buying everything and then cooking the turkey dinner wasn’t something she was willing to take on. Instead, they had pulled the plastic containers from the takeaway bag, quickly heating them up before sitting down to the saddest Thanksgiving meal. Thoughts of you were the only thing that pulled him out his funk to start pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic.
He decided that weekend that he would find a way to share that with you again. Your friend may have thrown out that thinly veiled threat, but he would find a way around it. Returning to the office after the holiday, he decided to keep his ritual to his nightly shower. No more parking garage camera feed for your noisy friend to make noise about. He found if he worked late enough, by the time he got home, there would be no one up to ask why he took a tumbler with him to shower.
Filling up his trusty tumbler every night, he would grab it from the refrigerator each morning as he waved goodbye to a wife and son who seemed to be more enthralled with their phones than anything he was doing. Heading to the local coffee shop after his morning swim, he would sit in his car adding his special ingredient to the small light roast brew with double espresso shots and half and half.
Making sure to get in as early as possible, he would leave the cup of coffee on your desk before hustling to his office. He had done so for the last week, a smirk lighting up his face when you brought the cup to the weekly team debrief for the latest cases. But now you knew it was him. He should have known you would figure it out.
Trying his best to not react to your question, he pulled on all his skills to keep the best poker face. He could come up with a reason for it that wouldn’t return you to that ball of nerves that had stood in his doorway.
He cleared his throat before responding, “You caught me. I know the late nights you have been putting in. That can’t be easy to do and then only to go home and help your parents. Figured you might need something to look forward to.”
You hummed at his explanation, looking down before returning your gaze to him, “That’s very kind, Mr. Barber. Sweet even. It’s just…people like to talk. I’ve worked so hard. And I don’t want anyone to think that I got anything because of…because of anything else other than work.”
Your eyes had continued to flit between him and your hands in your lap as you spoke. He could tell that you had thought through your small speech, probably even prepped yourself on your drive in. He also knew that one of the office gossips had gotten to you. He was selfish and he wanted the moments with you but not at the risk of you feeling uncomfortable.
Leaning against the desk, he looked at you straight on, expressing as much empathy as possible, “Understood. No more coffees.”
Your shoulders finally came down from around your ears and you sighed, nodding back in thanks.
“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you replied before rising to walk towards his office door. He wanted to correct you. Remind you to call him Andy. However, he figured it was best not to push his luck. Watching you push the wrinkles from your skirt as you walked away, he called back to you, “I don’t want you worrying about this or what anyone may say, okay?”
Stopping to look over your shoulder, you reached to grab at your necklace, “I won’t.”
“Promise me?” He smirked as you continued to twiddle with the gold chain.
“I promise,” you answered as he nodded for you to leave.
With the click of his door closing, he looked down at his desk, saving your promise to his memory. He’ll use it later tonight.
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Holding the slip of paper in his hands, your name neatly scrawled across it, he smiled to himself. A couple of people in the office decided to put together a Secret Santa exchange. Apparently, the Thanksgiving potluck was such a success when it came to team building, the higher ups agreed to the next holiday activity. Even had HR sign off on it.
Andy had been in court when the bag of names had been passed around. He didn’t give it much thought. Since your stop in his office a week ago, he had kept his distance. It wasn’t something that he wanted in the slightest. But he was willing to respect your genuine worry about office gossip. No more tumblers, no more early coffee runs. The research requests still happened but always through the weekly team huddle.
However, now seeing your name chosen for him, he had to smile to himself. Of course, it would be you that he would get. Of course, him trying to keep his distance would mean you finding a way back to him.
He sat down, leaning his chin in his hands, “Okay, sweet girl. I understand.”
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The office had pretty much cleared out with most people starting their holiday vacations. The last few streamers from the small Christmas luncheon had been balled up and chucked in the bin, when Andy made his way out to the bull pin. You were waving off the last of the other paralegals as you collected your stuff to make your own way home.
“Hey sweetheart,” he saw you jump a little before turning to him.
You had worn a red Christmas sweater with a white bow handstitched along the collar. Your normal pencil skirt had been replaced by a pair of black slacks. And although not his favorite, the pants had done wonders for your ass. He had watched as you moved around the office putting up the last-minute decorations, only to take them down.
“Hi Andy.” You replied turning and looking up at him from your office chair. He caught the small smile that wanted to break free at your utterance of his name. That was good, you were comfortable around him again.
Clearing his throat, he brought the gift bag from behind his bag, presenting it to you, “Merry Christmas.”
“So, you were my Secret Santa,” you smirked looking at the packed gift bag he had hastily bought from the Walgreens down the street.
“It’s a three-part gift,” he answered, nodding towards it and urging you to open it.
Taking the stuffed tissue paper from the top you reached in pulling out a pink tumbler. You let out a small giggle, “For my coffee?”
He fully smiled this time, before shrugging his shoulders and pointing to the remaining items in the gift bag. Putting down the tumbler, you turned back to the bag, reaching the bottom of it, you pulled out a wooden paper weight. Carved into the center was the seal for Boston College Law School. Your brow creased as you tried to piece together the meaning of the gift. He watched as you finally looked back to him, your look pleading for an answer.
“That’s the second part. An old college buddy of mine is the registrar. I told him about a paralegal that had aced her LSATs, had helped on numerous high profile ADA cases, but hadn’t had the chance to enroll yet.” He looked on as the puzzle started to come together in your mind. Your brow creased further as tears started to line your eyelashes.
“They have grant funds set aside every year for students that display great potential. He took care of everything. You can enroll whenever you’re ready. There will be a space for you. That’s the third part.” He whispered the last of his explanation. The tears that had been threatening to fall now ran fully down your cheeks.
“Oh my God. Thank you.” You jumped from your chair, throwing your arms around his shoulders.
Initially taken by surprise, he hesitated momentarily before letting his body relax into your hold. His hands landing on your back as you sniffled into his dress shirt and whispered quiet thank you’s in his ear.  He threw up his own thanks at the office being empty. Something tells him that you may have restrained yourself more with an audience.
Starting to feel you pull away, he resisted the urge to cling to you. It had been a while since Andy had a genuine hug. He had been mostly regulated to side hugs with Laurie. Every once in a while, it would include a kiss to the cheek. And Jacob, well he was fully rooted in his teen years and any idolization that he might have had for his dad had been long gone. He would only get quick nods of recognition from over the top of the phone from his son. But now with you, he could feel the heat of your body, the small catches in your breath as you tried to regulate your outburst. This was something he couldn’t give up.
“I’m so sorry. That’s not very professional of me. It’s just…this means so much to me.”
Your tearful smile at him tempted him to bring you back into his embrace. To just hold you as all the happy tears flowed out of you.
You giggled again, shaking your head, “I have to tell my parents. I have to…”
He nodded at you, seeing all the possibilities run through your mind. He had opened doors for you. Had given you a better future. Had put that delighted smile on your face. He had done that. You quickly began to pack up your remaining things, yesterday’s brief stuffed in with your laptop. Turning to him again, you smiled again grabbing onto his forearm and squeezing.
“Merry Christmas sweetheart.”
“Merry Christmas Andy.”
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“Can you believe it, Jake? I can enroll whenever I’m ready. There’s a space just waiting for me.” You talked animatedly to your best friend as you placed the carved paperweight on your bookcase. It would sit perfect with your old undergrad books and picture of Jake and you from your graduation.
“That’s amazing, Ace! So, he just called a friend and got this all sorted out?” Jake asked facetiming you from his room.
He had suspicions about your kind of boss since before meeting him Thanksgiving. You had mentioned how many late nights you had been spending at the office recently and how walking out at night gave you the heebie-jeebies. The protector within him woke up immediately at that, ready to offer to pick you up if he needed to. You would never ask him to do that yourself. That’s when you brought up Andy Barber and how he started walking you out.
It hadn’t taken Jake long to dig up information on the ADA. He had the white picket fence life, although there wasn’t too much about his past listed. That was the first red flag. Hacking into the courthouse’s camera feed had been relatively easy. These older government buildings never bothered upping their security.
Andy Barber always parked in one of the garage’s blind spots. That would be the second red flag. After you left, Andy wouldn’t be seen exiting until half an hour later. What could he possibly be doing in a parked car for thirty minutes? That was the final red flag.
“His friend is the registrar at the school. He was able to work it out. What?” Sitting down on your bed, you leaned back looking at Jake on your phone. He was making his slightly worried puppy dog face.
“It’s just that’s a lot to get coordinated so fast.”
“Why can’t you just be happy for me, Jake?” You asked only to see Jake’s face immediately deflate. The worried puppy dog look morphing to kicked puppy. His eyes widening behind his glasses.
“Of course, I’m happy for you Ace. It’s just that you’re too trusting sometimes.”
“I’m not a child,” you grumbled back, and Jake wanted to jump through the phone and ease your anger.
“You’re not. You’re a person with a good heart that wants to believe the best in people,” he saw the crease in your brow ease as he spoke, “And that’s why I gotta look out for you.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your small smile at Jake’s statement. From the first moment he had run into on his skateboard, knocking both of you over in the quad in college, he had looked out for you.
“When do you come back?”
“Why? Do you already miss me?” You watched Jake wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, causing a round of giggles to erupt from you. He pretended to be hurt by your outburst before continuing, “Probably not until the new year.”
You hummed, sitting back up, Jake and you sat in silence as he watched the disappointment take over your expression. He searched for a way to get you to smile again when he heard the knock at the door. Quickly looking back at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing he had locked it.
“I gotta go, Ace.” He watched you nod a short okay, before finally getting up from your bed.
“I miss you.” “I miss you too, Jake.”
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Andy sat down at the desk in his home office. Neck stretched back along the back of the chair, as he thought back on the last couple of hours since getting home. Walking in, he noticed all the lights were off, not even the Christmas tree in the den was lit. Disengaging the alarm, he made his way into the kitchen to see a sticky note stuck to the fridge. Laurie had to go back into the office to finalize the preparations for the end of the year gala, while Jacob spent the night at a friend’s. So much for family time.
Putting an order into the local Italian place, he went upstairs to change out of his work clothes. He contemplated jumping in the shower, until he heard the doorbell ring with his takeout. Turning on the tree in the den, he ate his pasta dish with only the twinkling Christmas lights on. What had his life become? What had his family become?
Dropping the to-go containers in the trash, he wandered back to his office. He thought about powering up his laptop and finishing the closing remarks for one of his cases, when he found the holiday favors that you had passed around the office this morning. Your red sweater on, you greeted everyone with such joy for the upcoming holiday. He couldn’t help but smile up at you, as you left the favor on his desk.
You were a sweetheart. His sweetheart. His sweet girl. He rubbed along his bottom lip as he remembered your reaction to his gift. The hug had surprised him. But fuck if he hadn’t loved every minute of it. He didn’t even mind the soft sniffling you made as your tears stained his tie. He had made those tears.
Opening his iPad, he logged into the recently downloaded program. Would you have already told everyone about what he had done for you? Would you have passed around the carved seal of your new school for everyone to admire? Would you have put it in a place of pride? He wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to check.
Finishing entering the credentials, he watched as his screen came to life and he saw your bedroom space. It was cheerful like you, with multiple pillows adorning your bed and bursts of color in the pictures you hung on your walls. He devoured the scene, greedily taking in everything he could see, when he heard the click of the bedroom door. The small camera was powerful and could zoom 10x but was stationary in the middle of the school seal.
He waited, hearing you hum a Christmas song along the with opening and closing of drawers off camera and the tossing of a bath towel on the bed. Finally making your way into view, he saw your silk two-piece set. The navy-blue pajama top with white piping along seams hugged your tits. Your free tits, there’s no way you were still wearing a bra with the way your nipples poked through. And the shorts that accompanied it, covered the curve of your ass, but he watched as they inched up as you started to turn down the bed.
He shifted in his seat as he set the iPad to lean against the monitor stand on his desk. Widening his legs and easing back into his chair, he adjusted himself. He hadn’t had a chance for his nightly ritual. But seeing you now, he was happy to see he would have new things to add to his memory. You always knew how to take care of him. His sweet girl.
After setting most of the pillows aside, you climbed into bed, reaching over for your earbuds and phone. He couldn’t tell what you were listening to but judging by the content smile on your face, it must be good. He watched as you closed your eyes, listening to whatever was piping through your earbuds. Reaching down, he rubbed himself through his pajama bottoms. Nothing too aggressive, just softest of touches. The kind he always imagined you would give him. Always delicate and soft at the start.
He sighed to himself as he watched you, “My sweet girl.”
Lost in the moment, he didn’t catch you shifting at first. However, looking back at the screen, he saw your hand move to your top. You let out a small sigh as your fingers started to flick at your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. He frantically sat up, engaging the zoom function to watch up close. Your nipples were amazing, and he knew given the chance he would lap at them, giving them little bites to see you squirm. Your eyes were closed, breathing harsher, as you played with your tits.
“Play with her tits, sweet girl. Show me how sensitive they are,” He whispered as he took full hold of himself. After hitting his fist on the underside of the desk, he pushed back from it to make room for his hand as he continued to slide up and down his shaft.  
He could hear the little sighs you were making as they started to get louder. He knew you would be vocal. You would tell him everything that made you feel good. Both your hands covered your tits while the buttons of your shirt lay open from where you had torn it open to get your hands in.
“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” He squeezed around the tip before breaking contact with the screen to spit down onto himself. At feel of his warm saliva, that winking eye dribbled out onto self.
Hearing shifting, he looked back to find you grabbing one of the pillows you hadn’t bothered to put aside. Now, what were you doing now? He watched as you grabbed the forgotten towel still at the foot of your bed. Placing the pillow in the middle of the bed, you draped the towel over it before swinging a leg over and straddling the setup.
“Fuck me. Take what you need, sweet girl.” He grunted as you started to rock back and forth on the pillow.
Your hips started a natural rhythm, one hand still pawing at your tit while the other held you steady on your perch. As he looked on, the more he dribbled out on his hand, and he finally reached down pushing his pants and underwear off. His ass was momentarily cold on the leather of the seat, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as you kept humping your pillow.
“Daddy.”
Andy nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard your whisper. Your bottom lip now caught between your teeth as you whined.
“Daddy is here. Fuck, I’m right here.” He fisted himself, finally dropping to grab onto his balls and rolling them in his palm.
“Daddy, please.” You mewled out your whimper and he had to grab tight at his base to avoid blowing his load right then and there. You were close, but fuck him, if he missed it by losing it first.
“What do you need, sweet girl? What do you need from daddy?”
“Daddy, I can’t.”
How could you answer him? You had to know. His sweet girl was so smart, she could figure anything out. You had to know he was here. That he could see you. That he was watching you. You were doing this for him.
“Yes, you can. Daddy says you can. I’ll even count down. Five.”
You stuttered slightly before picking up your pace again.
“Four.”
He tightened his grip, corkscrewing his hand on each trip up.
“Three.”
Your breathing was getting harsher as you brought down your other hand, using both to steady you as your hips rolled.
“Two.”
He was almost there. His balls had already started to pull up as he planted his feet to thrust into his fist.
“One. Come on, my sweet girl. Come for daddy.”
He nearly lost it, as you threw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent cry, and the rest of your body spasming. Fucking his hand, he watched as a gush of liquid flew out of you, wetting the towel beneath.
“Oh fuck. Such a good girl. Such a good, fucking sweet girl.”
Standing up, he aimed for the screen as he lost it on the image of his sweet girl squirting for him. He twitched and continued to rub out every ounce he had for her. For once, he didn’t think about it going to waste. It hadn’t, not with what you had given him tonight.
Bracing against the edge of the desk, he flopped back into his chair, as you rolled off your pillow completely drained.
“Thank you, daddy.” You gave one final whisper before peeling off your pajama shorts and grabbing the covers to go to sleep.
“You’re more than welcome, sweet girl. Rest now.”
Andy watched you snuggle into bed, returning to the woman he knew from the office. No longer the horned up, little one that just needed her daddy to take care of her. Taking a tissue from the console behind him, he wiped himself down before wiping the screen and desk. Pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up, he started to log out of the camera’s app, when a dialog box popped up, asking to save or delete recording.
He hesitated only for a moment, before clicking save.
Maybe these work holiday functions weren’t the worst thing in the world.
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@sarahdonald87
@buckybarnesisdaddy
@theinheriteddutchess
@welp-heregoessomething
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shadeysprings · 10 months
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Eyes of the Devil
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—Boss!Andy Barber x Assistant!F!Reader
Summary — Happiness blinds you from the horror that looms around the corner.
Warnings — noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, forced oral (m receiving), betrayal, blackmailing, cumshot to the face and implied kidnapping if you squint. Mean!Andy is present.
Word Count — 2.7K
A/N — My first entry for @thebasementspouses The 12 Men of Christmas Writing Challenge. This is also the first time I'm writing for Andy. And honestly it was hard yet fun ^^ Should you expect more Andy from me in the future? Fuck yeah.
Shoutout to my betas by @vellicore and @lunarbuck. But all mistakes are mine alone.
Gif by @barneswilsonrogers
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️
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Once again, you’re burning the midnight oil.
With the holidays fast approaching, Dolores in accounting has you working double time on filing the pending paperwork that needs to be audited before the year ends. Even so, it’s work you don’t mind—you have nowhere to be and no one to see, your cubicle serving as a fortress, your home away from home. 
“Aren’t you heading out yet?” You look up from your computer to see Mr. Barber smiling down at you, his coat hanging from his arm where the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up his elbows. He already looks run down from the day’s work, yet he still manages to be chipper. 
“Just finishing up on some tasks, Mr. Barber.” You respond with a smile. “I’ll get going as soon as I’m done.”
“Is that the year end report?”
You nod and hold back the sigh that wants to escape. “Dolores doesn’t want to wait until the last minute to finish it so she’s asking for the report 3 weeks in advance.”
“Seems a bit early, don’t you think?” You think he’s talking to you, but his eyes are cast down, his lips twisted in thought. He must have forgotten that he approved her early leave, yet you don’t find it in you to correct him. “Well, you take it easy then. I wouldn’t want you getting too worked up over it.” Your boss says, concern laced in his voice. “Just finish what you can. And if there is anything I can help you with, you just say the word.”
“Don’t worry, Sir. I have everything I need—just have to double check then compile them before sending them off to her.” The assurance you give seems to placate him, and you feel a sense of joy that you see him about to take off. 
Not that you don’t enjoy talking to your boss; he’s the only one, aside from the other department heads, you interact with on a daily basis. But he’s still the CEO, and you can’t help but think about his rank and see him as a superior, even in an informal setting. 
“Very well. I’ll leave you to it.” He says, the smile once more present on his lips. But before he leaves, he adds, “Oh, before I forget,” Mr. Barber places a festive paper bag on top of your desk, one you failed to notice him holding when he passed by your desk. “Merry Christmas.”
A gift. Something you never expected to receive from your boss.
“Oh, you didn’t have to bother, Sir.” You tell him as you stare at the bag in awe. A plain white box is nestled between the sheets of pink and purple paper when you peek inside.
“It’s really no trouble. Just a little something I picked up from my overseas trip last week.” He explains, the smile on his face seemingly growing wider, more playful, something you’ve never seen on him before. “I hope you like it.”
You return his smile. “I’m sure I would, Sir. Thank you.” 
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A snow globe. That’s what Mr. Barber gave you. 
But it isn’t just any snow globe, no. It is a limited edition collectible of your favorite cartoon character. You don’t even know how he got his hands on one, with it being sold out within minutes of being released, or how he even knew it was your favorite—probably from the small figurines you keep on your desk—but you feel elated just by looking at it. 
You examine it with excited hands, curious at the button that sits underneath the base. They never advertised it as something electronic. You press the button, and to your surprise, a soft melody plays as the faux snow within blows on its own, making it even more magical than you thought it to be. A tiny blue light at the chest of the character begins  blinking along with the tune, a squeal of glee leaving your lips. 
It has you thinking of buying him a really good present, one of equal value to the one he’s given.
With a smile, you stow away the packaging and set the snow globe on the shelf where you keep the rest of your collection. This one, though, has a special place at the center of all the others, the star of the show as it should be.
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You stare at your computer in shock. 
The image of you naked in bed, one hand on your tit, and the other grasping a toy with the other end buried in your cunt with your face twisted in pleasure. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you immediately close the image, looking around to see if anyone witnessed it as well. But no one resides on this side of the floor aside from you and Mr. Barber.
Panic rises in your throat as you try to think who sent it to you. But most importantly, how they got such a picture of you in the privacy of your own home. 
Your computer pings once more, and your stomach turns when you see the same unknown email address pop up from the corner of your screen. You don’t dare open it, too afraid of its contents. Instead, you delete it, even empty out the trash all the same to completely purge it from existence. 
Beads of sweat form at your nape, the beating of your heart growing heavier by the second as the fear continues to bloom in your chest. What do they want? Why are they doing this to me? The thoughts swirl in your head, and all you can think about after is going home to hide. But you can’t; they’ve made it known to you that the place that should be the safest no longer is. They only have footage of you in your room, but it isn’t certain that they don’t have eyes in other parts of your apartment.
“Do you have a moment?”
Mr. Barber’s voice startles you, making you sit up straight  in your seat and look up at him with wide eyes. The smile on his face dwindles and turns into a curious frown, most likely recognizing the trepidation painted on yours.
“Is something wrong?” He asks, worry laced in his voice. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Uhh—yes, Sir. I just—I think my breakfast isn’t sitting well in my stomach.” You lie, but you’d rather let your boss know that you’re about to shit your pants than telling him the truth.
“Maybe some soda would help? Or I think Angie in HR has some medicine you can take.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll figure it out.” You tell him, forcing a smile to hopefully stop him from prying any further. “Did you need help with something?”
As if remembering what he came to you for, he says, “Ah, yes. I actually do.” Pulling away from your cubicle, he adds, “I made some changes to my itinerary for my business trip—I was hoping to run them by you.” But there’s still apprehension visible around him as he makes his request known. “Do you have time to come to my office? Or do you want to grab some fresh air first?” 
You want to say yes, to deal with your anonymous harasser head-on, but deep down, you know you can’t. The fear would only grip you tighter and render you useless for the entire day, and the last thing you want is to show your boss an ounce of incompetence and a chance for him to ask what’s running in your head. 
“No.” You respond, already standing from your seat. “I can step out after our discussion.” Grabbing the folder you compiled for his trip and snatching your notepad from your desk, you follow him back to his office.
Work will help you take your mind off of things.
“Lock the door, please.” Mr. Barber instructs, and you do as you’re told. “If you can just take note of the new arrangements I made.” You step over to the side of his desk, taking the sheet of paper he holds out to you.
Yet shock grips you once more when you look down at it, your hands shaking as the sheet he gave you has the image that was sent to you earlier printed on it.
“You—”
“You scream and I’ll send it to the entire office.” Mr. Barber says, his concern from earlier is now gone and replaced with something vile as he looks up at you from where he’s seated. “So be a good girl and kneel.”
You don’t understand what’s happening. How did he get a hold of this picture? Was he sent the same email? Has your harasser already done the unthinkable, and your boss is using it to his advantage? Unless—
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Sweetheart.” From the way he says it, you know it’s a threat, and the one he said earlier circles in your head that you quickly obey, placing the folders in your hands atop his desk and getting down on your knees. You watch him with fear as he rolls his chair closer, trapping you between his thick thighs.
“Sir, what’s g—”
“Did I say you could speak?” Mr. Barber scolds, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing you to look up at him, his sapphire eyes looking darker than you recall. “You do what I say when I say and that includes talking, am I clear?” His words weigh heavy in the air, and you can do nothing but nod your head in agreement. “Good girl. We don’t want the entire company receiving such a scandalous Christmas present, do we?”
You shake your head, too afraid to speak, knowing he hasn’t permitted you to do so. 
A sinister smirk forms on his lips, and you keep your eyes on the button of his white shirt when he releases your face. You swallow thickly in fear, already knowing what comes next, what he would have you do as his hands fumble with the buckle of his belt and the zip of his pants. 
He groans low, the sound, although soft, echoing loudly in your ear when he pulls his cock free of its confines. It’s already stiff from what you can see, with precum beading at the tip. You shiver when he places a hand on your shoulder, fingers tapping, caressing the fabric of your chiffon blouse before he wraps them around the back of your neck.
“If you can fuck yourself with that toy, I’m sure you know how to suck a cock.” He utters, his other hand taking his length and tapping the tip gently against your lips. “Think of this as a performance review. You please me well enough, I might just give you a raise.” It’s a challenge, one you know you have no way of winning.
With shaky hands, you take his cock from him and stroke it a few times. Fear envelops you, the small space he’s trapped you in rendering you claustrophobic that you feel the pounding of your chest right at your ears. Slowly, you part your lips and wrap them around the tip, disgust rolling in your stomach as the pad of your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. 
But all of a sudden, he pushes your head down, forcing you to take the entirety of his cock. Tears pool in your eyes when he hits the barrier of your throat, choking around him. You try to pull away, doing your best to breathe through your nose while you push a hand against his stomach and the other slapping onto his thigh. 
You want to pull away, to spit him out and endure the humiliation of having your colleagues see the vulgar image, but Mr. Barber—no! He deserves no respect! But Andy is being forceful, keeping his hand around your nape and holding you down longer. Until finally, he lets go, and you gasp for air as you pull him away from your mouth, spit dripping while you cough profusely from the roughness he’s bestowed.
“Come on, Sweetheart,” He says between chuckles, taking you by the back of your head this time and pushing you back between his thighs. “We’re just getting started.”
He doesn’t even give you enough time to recover from his assault when he drives his cock back into your mouth, the saliva gathered at your tongue serving as lubricant, one he uses to his advantage as he pilots your head up and down against him. 
His groans of pleasure fill the expanse of his office, mixed with your muffled grunts of revulsion and torment. Though you do nothing to fight back, afraid of the consequences you’ll suffer if you do and choose to endure his depravity, to allow him to use you as he so desires.
“Did you like my gift?” He says between shaky breaths. “I knew it was perfect.” 
The snow globe! But why?! Why is he doing this to you?!
Shutting your eyes tight, you do your best to shut him out, to think of someone else, someone from your past who’s receiving the lustful deed of your mouth. But the way he says your name, the ways his voice continues to permeate your senses, makes it all too difficult. That it’s only Andy you feel, Andy who controls. 
Tears stream down your face when he takes hold of your face with both his hands. Instead of guiding your head the way he wishes, he fucks your mouth with reckless thrusts. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you after I saw you playing with yourself.” He says between grunts. “Couldn’t stop thinking of what else you could do.” Once, twice, several more times, the tip of his cock hits your throat. You stop yourself from gagging, staying strong to please him and deciding to pleasure him, hollowing your cheeks and caressing the veins of his cock with your tongue. 
If he finishes soon, your torment will be done as well. 
Placing your hands over his, you move to your own volition—much to his surprise when you hear the grunt from his chest and the way he frees you from his hold. You take more of him, all of him, one hand reaching to caress his balls while the other strokes what you no longer fit in your mouth. You even moan for added effect to make him believe that you enjoy what he’s thrust you into and that you share in his pleasure—one you can confirm when you feel him throb between your lips.
But once again, he surprises you, gasping when he pushes you off of him, yet his hand returns to the back of your neck, keeping you in place. 
“Open your mouth. Eyes on me.” He commands, and you do as you are told. Sapphires look down on you, even darker than before, and you hang your tongue like a dog while he takes his cock tight in his hand and strokes himself fast. Within seconds, he lets out a garbled grunt, and you close your eyes in horror when hot strings of white shoot out of him and paint your lips as well as your cheeks.
You’re crying once again, confusion swirling in your head. He played you for a fool—infiltrated the safety of your home without even so much as trying, because you let him in. But you fail to understand why. Why he’s treating you this way, why he even thought about treating you like this. 
You think he’s done when he leans back in his seat and loosens his hold on himself. But that’s far from it. Andy chuckles, deep and dark, pressing the tip against his come and smears it over your lips, pushing it once more into your mouth. 
“Swallow.” Another command. “Suck me clean.”
And you do. The warmth of his seed scalding your throat, and you fight the bile that rises in return.
“I already booked your holiday leave,” Andy says breathily with a sinister grin, his thumb rubbing at the back of your neck.
You look at him with wide, fearful and curious eyes. What? Holiday leave? But you never booked one. 
His laughter then fills your ears, seemingly sensing your distress. “It’s the changes to my business trip—you’ll be accompanying me.” He answers, slipping his cock out and taking your chin, rubbing his thumb against your lower lip that’s still sticky with his come. “I need all the time I could get to see if your cunt feels as great as your mouth.”
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 1 year
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Bad Neighbour
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Pairing: Dark Andy Barber x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: Your neighbor is set on having you, no matter what you say. 
WARNINGS: Harassing.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
--
“Andy, just leave me alone!” you almost yell but a small whine from your baby girl reminds you to keep it low.
You bounce your daughter on your chest, a hand protectively holding her tiny head, as if it would keep Andy’s attention away from her. You definitely don’t want her to grab his attention. 
“I just want to talk to you, c’mon. Talk things out for our future together.” Andy takes a step closer to you, forcing you to quickly bounce backwards to put the couch in between you.
Trapped, that’s exactly how you feel. Andy is placed on the door’s way, your phone is upstairs and your husband is gone on a business trip. Andy couldn't have had a worse timing. 
Your hands are starting to get clammy and it makes you hold your daughter with more vigor. 
“Listen, Andy.” you carefully start, transferring weight from one leg to the other. Andy gives you an encouraging smile and you try to avoid looking into his eyes.
The baby on your chest mumbles something in her sleep and you rush your words out, anxious to get him out of the house. 
“I’m really sorry for what happened to Laurie and Jacob, I really am. You know that me and Scott supported you guys and it was really sad what happened. But you need to move on with your life, Andy, and leave us alone.”
Andy’s smile dies down and he stares at you with a frustrated expression, but you continue.
“I’m happily married and I’m not going anywhere with you. You have to stop calling me all the time, stop following me around and just leave me alone. I’m not going to run away with you and abandon my daughter, my family.” your voice is shaky, but you manage to speak.
The smile disappears from Andy’s face and it’s replaced by an irritated frown, his jaw clenched tight.  
“I’m not asking you to abandon your daughter. She can come with us and I’ll treat her like my own kid.” he declares, taking a predatory step towards you. Your heart pounces on your chest and your legs start to lightly shake. 
“We’ll be happy together. It’s a fresh start for both of us, it’ll be good.” Andy’s voice gets lower as he approaches you, his usually composed appearance now disheveled, dark circles around his eyes as if he hasn’t slept for days.
After Laurie and Jacob’s death, you’re sure he hasn’t slept as he’s too busy harassing you. 
“Trust me, we belong together and we’ll be so happy together, I know it. So you can either pack your bags and leave with me quietly or we can do this the hard way.”
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lloydspuppy · 1 month
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work problems.
disclaimer; this blog contents content such as erotica (smut). if you are under the age of 18, please do not interact, thank you!
Summary: A forbidden office romance blossoms between you and powerful Assistant District Attorney Andy Barber, as his subtle yet persistent advances leave you increasingly distracted and enthralled. When tensions finally come to a head in his dimly lit office, there's no turning back as you submit to the allure of his dark desire.
Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader
Warnings: Power imbalance, workplace harassment, dubious consent, possessive/dominant behavior, explicit sexual content, slight BDSM undertones, emotional vulnerability, potential taboo themes.
| word count: 1245
requested by: @aching-arche :
heyyy, pookie! your account seems delightfulllll! 𝜗𝜚
some VERY! dark andy barber x reader has been on my mind lately. i have no clue abt the plot but I NEED age-gap, violence and maybee a bit of sexual harasmentttt?
p.s: i know how hard it is to have a writer's block and to need requests and when no one does it's rlly tragic lol.
tysm, love youuuu!𝜗𝜚
hello! thank you so much for requesting this! as you can tell I did get a little carried away! hope you enjoy this! mwah <33
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Over the past months, Andy's subtle yet persistent advances had left you increasingly distracted and on edge. The casual brushes of his hand against yours as he handed you files, the way his smoldering gaze would linger on your form, the low, possessive timber of his voice - it all conspired to captivate you, ensnare you in a web of forbidden desire. 
Try as you might to maintain professionalism, the lines between your working relationship and something more primal had grown increasingly blurred. You found yourself constantly hyper-aware of his presence, your heart fluttering at the slightest interaction, your mind drifting to thoughts of his touch, his kiss, his possession of you. The tension had become nearly unbearable, leaving you in a state of restless distraction, aching for his undivided attention.
The air in Andy Barber's dimly lit office was tense as you sat nervously across from the powerful man. Your delicate fingers fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, betraying the turmoil of emotions swirling within you.
Andy's piercing gaze was fixed upon you, his dark eyes glinting with an intensity that sent tingles of anticipation and fear down your spine. Over the past months, your professional relationship had evolved into something far more complex - a forbidden dance of predator and prey, dark desire, and forbidden temptation.
From the moment you'd started working as Andy's assistant, you'd been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His commanding presence, the sharp intelligence that shone in his eyes, the sheer magnetism of the man - it all conspired to captivate you, body and soul. And slowly, oh so slowly, the boundaries between professionalism and something more had begun to blur.
The casual brushes of his hand against yours as he handed you files, the way his gaze would linger on your form, the subtle, possessive undertones in his voice when he addressed you - it all left you trembling, torn between trepidation and a desperate, shameful desire.
"Y/N," Andy murmured, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "I've noticed you've been... distracted, lately."
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Barber," you stammered, your eyes downcast. "I've just had a lot on my mind with work and-"
"Shh," he interrupted, his hand raising to silence you. "Don't apologize, angel." Slowly, he rose from his chair and made his way around the desk, closing the distance between you.
Your breath caught in your throat as he crouched beside you, his warm, calloused hand resting on your knee. "Tell me, what's been troubling you?" he asked, his thumb caressing the delicate skin.
You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, your mind racing to find the right words. "I... I'm not sure, exactly," you admitted, your gaze finally meeting his. "There's just been... something, between us, and I-"
"Shh," he soothed, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "I know, sweetheart." His free hand came up to tenderly cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your trembling lips. "I feel it too."
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut. "Andy..." you breathed, the intimacy of using his first name sending a thrill through you.
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, his face mere inches from yours. "Let me in."
Before you could react, his lips were on yours, claiming you in a searing, possessive kiss. A muffled gasp escaped you, but as his tongue swept into your mouth, you found yourself melting into his embrace.
The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensations - the heat of his body, the taste of his lips, the fierce need that consumed you both. You were adrift, drowning in the heady mix of desire and trepidation.
When Andy finally pulled away, his eyes were dark with hunger, his grip on you unyielding. "You're mine now, sweetheart," he growled, his thumb tracing the curve of your swollen lips. "And I'm never letting you go."
You shivered, torn between fear and exhilaration. This was dangerous, reckless... and yet, the pull of his attention, the promise in his words, was too strong to resist.
"Then take me, Andy," you breathed, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. "I'm yours."
A deep, rumbling chuckle escaped him as he surged forward, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. His hands roamed your body, caressing and claiming every inch of you, leaving you trembling and aching for more.
As he slowly lowered you onto the desk, his body covering yours, you knew there was no turning back. This was the point of no return, and you were powerless to resist the allure of Andy Barber.
His calloused fingers deftly unbuttoned your blouse, exposing the delicate lace of your bra. A predatory gleam flickered in his eyes as he drank in the sight of you, his thumb brushing over the sensitive swell of your breast.
"So beautiful," he growled, his lips trailing a path of scorching kisses down your neck. "I'm going to ruin you, sweetheart."
You whimpered, your back arching into his touch. "Please, Andy," you breathed, your hands clutching at his shoulders. "I need you."
With a possessive snarl, he surged forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as his nimble fingers made quick work of your remaining clothing. Soon, you lay before him, trembling and exposed, your delicate form a stark contrast to his powerful frame.
"Look at you," he murmured, his calloused hands caressing your bare skin. "So perfect, so tempting." His thumb brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, eliciting a shudder from you. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you, my dear."
You cried out, your hips bucking in a silent plea for more. Andy chuckled darkly, his fingers deftly parting your slick folds.
"Please, Andy," you whimpered, your nails raking down his back. "I need you, I need you now!"
"Shh, darling," he soothed, his hand cupping your face. "Daddy's got you." With a swift, decisive motion, he positioned himself at your entrance, the blunt head of his cock teasing your aching core.
Your eyes fluttered shut as he slowly, agonizingly, sank into you, filling you to the hilt. The sensation was almost too much, the perfect fullness of him within you sending sparks of ecstasy racing through your body.
He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. Then, with a possessive snarl, he began to move, his hips snapping forward in a punishing rhythm.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "So tight, so perfect for Daddy."
You writhed beneath him, your walls clenching around his thick length as you chased your release. "Andy, oh God, Andy!" you cried, your voice dripping with desperation.
His pace quickened, his thumb finding your sensitive nub and rubbing in tight circles. "That's it, sweetheart," he panted. "Cum for me. Show Daddy how much you love his cock."
With a strangled scream, you shattered, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pure bliss. Andy followed quickly, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural groan.
Spent, he collapsed atop you, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. You clung to him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his sweat-slicked skin.
"I love you, Andy," you murmured, pressing a tender kiss to his jawline.
Andy smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I love you, doll. Always."
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well i hope you guys enjoyed this! i tried my best to make it as dark as I possibly could but unfortunately I'm very stressed out right now since I'm starting uni next week! feel free to send me some reqs and I'll get to writing them since I'm currently free!
ps. if i dont respond to your request that means I am uncomfortable about writing for it so please don't spam request !
44 notes · View notes
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End Game 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: get ready for the hate.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller. 
“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you. 
You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed. 
“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.” 
“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.” 
“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.  
“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.” 
“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says. 
“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?” 
“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.” 
You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester. 
“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers. 
“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.” 
“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...” 
“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.” 
“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...” 
“A con? Oh, wow--” 
“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?” 
“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.” 
“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...” 
You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no. 
“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly. 
The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones. 
“Jacob?” You murmur. 
“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.” 
“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.” 
“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.” 
“Yeah, totally,” you agree.  
You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track. 
“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.” 
“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.” 
“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.” 
“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.” 
“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.” 
“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...” 
“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.” 
“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.” 
You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation. 
🎮
You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive. 
You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell. 
It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was. 
“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.  
She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed. 
You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home. 
You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.  
You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message. 
‘Hey, you home?’ 
‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’ 
‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’ 
‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’ 
You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊' 
Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears. 
‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’ 
You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side. 
‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’ 
You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face. 
🎮
You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund. 
After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky. 
‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order. 
You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds. 
‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’ 
‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’ 
You sigh.  
‘Time got ahead of me.’ 
‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’ 
‘Sure. Tmrw.’ 
You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe. 
As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful. 
🎮
“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.” 
“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.” 
He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts. 
“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks. 
“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?” 
He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up. 
“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.” 
“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.  
“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully. 
“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.” 
“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.” 
“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game. 
It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing. 
“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.” 
“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.” 
“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.” 
“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead. 
Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart. 
Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work. 
Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it. 
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hansensgirl · 9 months
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summary. | Mr. Barber’s feelings for his cleaner are more than professional.
prompts. | Andy Barber + Yandere + “Think an old man like me can keep up?” + conditioning/grooming, requested by @baalsgurl1913!
pairing. | Dark/Yandere!Andy Barber x female!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON (mostly dubious consent), abuse of power, stalking, yandere, obsession, spying, orgasm (f), large age gap (reader is legal), grooming/conditioning, gaslighting/manipulation, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics
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You’ve always had a soft spot for Mr. Barber—and it seemed he had one for you, too. 
You would clean the Barbers’ house every now and then when Andy and Laurie’s jobs made them too busy, and their son couldn’t bother to learn how to help out. You didn’t mind it. They paid a good amount and were always so kind to you.
But that was before it happened. And now Mr. Barber hires you because he’s grief-stricken, and you’ve known him for so long.
It’s not hard to tidy up behind him. He has manners, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. Andy’s entire life fell apart, and everyone watched in amusement.
Everyone except for you. No, you would never. You’re a good girl; he knows it. So sweet with your patterned dresses and adorable sweaters. You tell him ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for every little thing, giving him those eyes that make him want to wreck you on the spot.
It really isn’t his fault that he watches you outside your work hours. He has to keep you safe anyway—don’t you know there are dirty criminals on every corner? And, plus, you made him do this. You’re too pure, too wholesome—and all his. Even though you don’t know it yet.
“That’s it for today, sir. Is there anything else you need?” you hum, light jacket on your shoulders with your purse on the chair since you just polished the countertops. “Actually, there is something else you could do for me,” Andy says, grunting as he stands up from his spot on the couch. 
He stayed there the entire time, making sure you did your job well. You didn’t mind.
“Oh, what is it?” you ask, already shrugging your windbreaker off. “Have a drink with me?” he offers, walking to the fridge. He grabs a beer for himself and a coke for you, knowing that you wouldn’t want to drive home with alcohol in your system. But you don’t have to worry. Not anymore, at least.
“Er, thank you. You’re always so kind to me, sir,” you tell him, sitting down on the couch. He joins you, his thigh touching yours. You involuntarily try to make yourself smaller, nervously giggling at the contact. When you look up at the much older man, he looks different. Pained, almost, with dark eyes and a clenched jaw. Is he upset? Did you do something wrong? Worry gnaws at you.
Andy looks down at you and remembers when you first started working for him. It was a warmer day than usual, and he had come home early at Laurie’s request. She was worried a young thing like you—who had turned eighteen a few months prior—would steal something valuable from the house.
She didn’t know that the only priceless thing had become you, and the worth of their home would decrease drastically when you weren’t there.
You take a sip of your chilled drink, resisting the urge to chug it after all your hard work.  
Andy places a hand on your thigh, but you don’t think much of it. He’s done this before, especially when he feels you’ve been exceptionally good that day.
“Y’know, honey… I really appreciate you coming here so often,” he starts, patting your leg. You smile, slightly embarrassed by the attention. “Really. I mean, you’ve put up with me for so long—through everything…”
You nod sympathetically, knowing what he’s referring to. 
“I just feel like I owe you. More than a raise or a gift,” Andy admits, and you start shaking your head. “No sir, really. I’m fine—thank you for everything. I already have so much,” you say. He quirks an eyebrow.
“Do you?” he asks, puzzling you. You take a larger gulp of the Coke. “Yeah…” 
“Don’t lie, sweetie. I know you don’t. Going back to that little matchbox of yours? With your slob of a roommate waiting for you to clean her messes?” he scoffs, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean, sir?” you question.
“You know what I mean. I’ve seen it all, honey. I can give you so much more—haven’t I already?” he reasons, and it’s only when you feel a chill of air that you realize that your dress has been lifted up, and he can see your underwear. Oddly, you don’t fight him. It’s Mr. Barber—kind, sweet Mr. Barber, who cracks dad jokes and isn’t afraid to order pizza nearly daily. He’s been touchy before, but you’ve never paid any mind to it. Maybe that’s how he shows love.
“And please, call me Andy. You’ll have to, eventually,” he says, inching his fingers closer to your core. Your breathing gets heavy from nerves and desire. “I– I just don’t get it, sir—I mean, Andy. I’m a little scared?…” you confess, and he coos at you.
“That’s alright, sweetie. I’m here for you. Don’t you know how much I love you? I would never hurt you.”
His words make you dizzy. You feel his large, warm hand dip into your panties, and you let out an exhale. You’ve got a vice-like grip on the glass bottle he gave you, but it nearly slips when Andy finds your clit with ease. 
“Now, I know you’re young and all…” he starts, rubbing slow circles on your nub. He can feel your wetness, and it takes all of him to not pounce on you right then. You gasp from the pressure, and your free hand reaches down to grab his wrist, but you don’t push him away. Instead, you keep him there as if he has threatened to pull his hand away and leave you a writhing mess on his couch. “Think an old man like me can keep up?” he asks, and your eyes flash to his face. He’s got mild wrinkles and a slew of greys peppered into his hair and beard. You’ve always admired the look, even though he was married. “It’s been a while, but I can go a few rounds. You get me so hard, honey.”
You quickly come undone on your boss’ fingers, and he drinks in the sight, even though it certainly isn’t the first time he’s seen you have an orgasm. And it will never be the last. 
573 notes · View notes
krirebr · 8 months
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Trapped AU Masterlist
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Summary: Andy keeps telling you how lucky you are that he chose you to be his wife.
Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, punishment - See each installment for specific warnings - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
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Caught Up in Your Trap
You spend your first day in your new home.
Beyond These Walls In Front of Me
Andy brings you into a new part of your home.
I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas
Andy gives you an early Christmas present. Why aren't you happier about it?
Related Drabbles
Comfort
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Continuing AU
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cottagecheese1 · 2 months
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unhinged worlds 4
summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new beginnings, but what happens when your new beginning comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them.
paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea. warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.
Series master list right here
Another day, that's what you always seem to think when you wake up and the sun burns through your eyelids, when the seemingly 8 hours of sleep comes to an end, but this morning just seemed worse than the other ones. Mostly because you knew and dreaded what was coming as Andy grumbled, and pulled you tighter to his bare chest as he tried to hide away from the sun peaking through the blinds.
As you laid there stiff, scared, and a bit shocked at the previous night activities circulated through your head, but one seemed to never stop nagging you. You close your eyes and furrow your eyebrows thoughtlessly, as you recall the conversation the night before that Andy had brought up, and had desperately scared you when he mentioned a man named Lloyd. Who was this man? Your heartbeat quickens at the thought of another man coming in with the intentions of the men who were supposed to love, and protect you when your mother went away.
Andy grumbles and tosses around some more and you tense up and mentally curse yourself, secretly hoping for some more time with your thoughts, as you sigh in defeat and hear stomping and kitchen drawers being pulled open roughly. Andy groans and you feel him lean over the top of your head and pepper kisses all over the side of your face with a hum, while he strokes your sweater covered arm with a smug smile.
“Morning' honey..how did you sleep babygirl?” Andy says with a deep rumble as he strokes a stray piece of hair away from your face when you refuse to look at him.
You pause for a moment and your real response races through your head, scared, worried, afraid. Knowing that's not an answer he’d accept you sigh, “Fine.”
He looks at you with a little irritation when you cut him a short answer, and he sighs with annoyance, “Honey..I know you're angry, but you better knock the attitude off before I do..”
Andy grabs your face roughly, forcing you to look at him and his expression softens, “Daddy loves you sweetheart, but the last thing I wanna do is punish you first thing in the morning. Especially when we have a guest coming over today”, he smiles softly and loosens the grip on your cheeks slightly.
You nod slowly, and you notice how quickly his temper rises and falls within all of 40 seconds. You force yourself to give a small smile and sit up slowly. Not wanting to provoke the larger man in some way, your mouth feels dry and croaky as you open your mouth to suggest something, “we should..”, but the words get caught in your throat and you manage to force them out anyway, “we should get some breakfast..”
Andy chuckles and leans in closer, inches away from your face and pushes you back down flat to the mattress, “ah, give me a kiss first and we can go eat..” he smiles smugly and brushes your hair back.
Chills seem to run up your spine and you swallow nervously, while managing to keep your small smile, you lean up slowly to press a small kiss to his lips. Before you can pull back Andy grabs the back of your head gently with a bit of roughness, as he deepens the kiss and manages to slide his tongue in while he hums in contentment. Your eyes widen and attempt to push him away as you plant your hands on either side of his broad shoulders, and after a moment of him enduring your struggle, Andy finally pulls away with a chuckle while leaning over you.
“Just having some fun honey..no need to act like that”, Andy winks with a smile and lets you sit up. He gets out of bed, watching him throw on a plain white T-shirt with some gray sweatpants, and you both hear a knock on the door.
“Hey! Can you two hurry up already..Lloyds been bitching about wanting to see her already”, You furrow your eyebrows and what you can make out to be Johnny on the other side of the door, and then you realize that the man you’ve been scared to meet is on the other side of the room.
You glance over to Andy and he rolls his eyes while he lets out a huff, “tell him to hold on..! And that he’s in my house” he yells loud enough to where Johnny can hear, and Andy glances over at you while walking over to your side of the bed, then kneeling down to grip your hands in his larger ones as he stares into your worried expression, “I know your scared honey, and trust me. I was gonna talk to you about this, but he came earlier than expected, so all you need to do is be a good girl..can you do that for Daddy?” he says softly and for a moment you feel safe.
You nod your head and get up out of bed, in only Andy’s sweater and panties. Before you look at the door nervously and you glance behind you to see Andy's hands on your shoulders softly as he smiles down at you, “um..can I get some shorts.? Or pants would be ok to..” You say nervously.
Andy hums softly and nods, before looking down at your bare legs and panty clad ass in front of him, “of course honey..I don’t want anyone else seeing that pretty ass first thing in the morning either..” he winks before pulling out a pair of shorts that he seemed to take from your room, and you sigh in relief as he hands them to you.
Taking the shorts eagerly, you slide them on quickly as Andy watches you hungrily. A twitch to his cock makes him groan a bit when you bend over, his disappointment shows when you stand back up, turning back around to look at him and he gives a hum in contentment while motioning you out the door, which leads straight into the kitchen.
You turn the door handle and push the door open in unwanted anticipation. You feel Andy push you further out the door like you were a scared puppy, and he leans down to whisper slowly into your ear, “Remember to be a good girl..” a shiver runs through your spine and you nod.
“Morning sweetheart, you got a special someone who wants to see you..” Colin teases you playfully before Johnny elbows him in the side, before smiling at you with a bit of a mischievous glint to his eyes.
You try to ignore the two men standing in the kitchen before you see a taller man walk from behind the two boys, and you feel Andy's grip tighten on your hips as the man walks closer. He smiles down at you and pulls you roughly away from Andy with a laugh, “There's my pumpkin.! Oh look at you, such a cutie..gotta nice ass too”, the man known as Lloyd pulls you into his chest and gropes your ass playfully.
The mustached man leads you into the living room, and you can faintly hear Andy groan in the back while the laughter of Johnny and Colin stop. Lloyd sits down on the couch and pulls you roughly onto his lap, “Oh come to daddy pumpkin.. I just couldn’t wait to see you sugar, I know you're tired of these fucker-”, Lloyd gets cut off by hands grunt.
“I’m daddy, you moron..why didn’t you tell me you were coming this early?” Andy says with irritation, and Lloyd just shoots Andy an amused grin while pulling you closer into him and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, which confuses you.
“Then I can be daddy when you're not around dickhead..like I said I was saying, I just couldn’t wait to see my pumpkin so I wanted to get here as early as possible..how about you sugar? You wanna ride in daddy's private jet? I think you do..” Lloyd coos at you as he grabs your cheeks teasingly, before Johnny scoffs behind him.
“She’s not going anywhere with you..let alone back to wherever you came from” Johnny states with a little humor in his voice, and you shuffle awkwardly on his lap. They aren’t actually gonna let his weirdo take you home with him right?
Andy immediately pipes into the conversation and waves his hand in a dismissing motion, “no, no, no..your not taking her anywhere with you, let alone on a plane or since I’m already pissed off at you” he says sternly while crossing his arms, and you just decide to stay put and listen.
“Oh stop being a little bitch, I’ll show her a good time..she behaves so well anyway” He scoffs for a minute before turning back to you with a teasing smile as you sit uncomfortably in his lap and look the other way.
Your actions seem to make a rise out of him and he grabs you face to make you look at him, and his hand wonders under your shirt until he pinches your nipples, and you jolt a bit and whine which seems to make everyone chuckle except for Andy, “Such a good girl..quiet as a mouse to aren’t you pumpkin? You haven’t even said a word to me yet”, he smiles and caresses your cheek softly, and you whine when he pinches your peaked nipples much rougher this time.
Colin seems to laugh at that and join in, “She's shy..barely even said more than a few sentences to us, not to mention how pretty she was whining. Desperate to cum when her pussy was getting some special kisses isn't that right baby?” Colin teases you relentlessly as his mocking tone makes you put your head down in embarrassment.
Lloyd Laughs at your shyness, and everyone seems to laugh along, including Andy. Lloyd tilts your chin up to look at him and runs his thumb over your bottom lip, before he slides his hand down your flimsy shorts and you whimper, looking at Andy for some kind of help but he just groans in amusement and adjusts the bulge in his sweatpants. As does everyone else and you can’t help but feel like you're being used. Mocked.
“Is that right pumpkin? Well you're shy now but you won’t be once I give you some special attention..daddy will make sure to spoil his princess” Lloyd teases and rubs your damp pussy through your cotton panties and you let out a soft moan and lean back against him.
“That's right baby girl..nothing wrong with a little attention, you like it don’t you?” Lloyd whispers lowly into your ear as you feel his thick fingers slide past your panties and you squeeze your thighs together in unwanted pleasure, as the others behind you groan in pleasure and you feel your climax coming closer than ever.
You grid against Lloyds fingers needily and let out shameless soft moans as he rubs quick small circles on your clit while he smiles at your neediness. “Thats it pumpkin..I know your close, go ahead and cum” he says deeply and you feel the coil in your lower stomach unravel and you let out a moan and slump back against Lloyd, as he takes his fingers covered in your juices and sucks them clean while the others smile and look down at you with lust and desire as your eyes are half lidded in pleasure, Andy chuckles.
“That was real sweet baby, but way more where that came from...”, Andy says darkly while Lloyd lays your back on the couch, and suddenly your back where you started out.
tag list
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@abbyyourlocalmilf
@wolfsmom1
@jeelsinha
@realm-of-azrael
A/n: Sorry it took me so long to continue, let me know if you have any recommendations for part 5
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End Game Masterlist
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned. (Andy Barber)
Status: In Progress
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
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