Summary: When you send a drunken sext to your neighbor and have to deal with the consequences the next day.
Warning: explicit sex, dirty talk, fluff, sexting, bad decisions,mentions of griefs and depression, explicit language, very little plot, pure filth.
if you’re a minor, please DNI!
Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)
A/N: This purely indulgent little drabble is based on a spam email I received. Not beta’d so I apologize for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!
Nerves ran through you as you knocked on Andy’s door. There really couldn’t be a good reason for his invite. You knew he saw the text from the other night, the one where you offered to fuck his depression away.
You wanted to bury yourself in a hole when you woke up to see the text you sent along with the read message beneath. There was no way that sixth martini was a good idea, but after getting passed over for your promotion at work, you needed something to clear your head.
When your friends took you out, the conversation drunkenly shifted to men and you brought up your delicious neighbor. He was all you thought about, yet it felt wrong to make a move. He was always so sad, and depressed. Maybe you could bring him out it - with sex probably - and that was the brilliant idea you had. Quickly fueled by your friends, you sent him a dirty text, offering yourself as a cure for his depression.
Now you stood on his doorway, regretting all your decisions. Shifting from foot to foot you debated making a run for it. You thought too long and the door opened. revealing Andy. He greeted you with a smile, letting you in.
“Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that,“ Andy urged. He tightened his hold on your hips, guiding you harder on his cock, Your breasts bouncing with every movement. It felt so good, having him inside you, stretching you to your limit. The thick veined shaft gliding along your silky walls, igniting all the sensitive nerves in your body.
Your head dropped, arching your back as his tip brushed over your sweet spot. Andy’s eyes darkened as he reveled in the sounds making. You weren’t sure what triggered him exactly but suddenly he fell flipped you over pushing your legs up to your chest and began pistoling in you.
"Ah shit - Andy!” you screamed, digging your nails into his shoulder. He ducked down, kissing you roughly.
He bit your bottom lip, tugging at it. “You feel so tight. Best pussy I’ve ever had.”
A giggle bubbled in your chest, and you cradled his cheek, pulling him down for another kiss. He drew your legs around his waist, slowing down his motions. The coarse hairs at his base grinding against your clit with each grind of his hips. The feeling was overwhelming; the sensitive bundle of nerves was already raw from his magical tongue. The three orgasms he pulled from you were still tingling through you, "Is it working?”
“Is what working, Angel?” Andy answered, nuzzling in your neck. Despite his slow pace, you could feel the third orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. His thumb finding your clit, barely brushing over it with each rut
“Fucking me,” you replied, “Healing your depression?”
“Oh, definitely. If I can bury myself in that pussy every day, it’ll be better than any medicine on the market, ” Andy growled. The way he said it made your body tingle all over. He was lifted his head, gazing into your eyes. It was like you were the only thing he saw, “Took you long enough to make a move.”
You opened your mouth to protest only to choke out a moan as he pulled out and slammed into you. With a hard press to your clit, he triggered your orgasm, letting it wash over you; your thighs trembling around his waist.
Eyes shut, mouth frozen open mid moan. The sensations so powerful, you couldn’t think
straight. By the time you came to, Andy was cleaning you up with a washcloth. He tossed it aside, crawling up next to you. Laying on his side to face you, he stroked your check, curving down to your throat. You gave him a tired smile scooting over to cuddle into him. “We should do this more often.”
“How about everyday?” Andy smirked. He planted a kiss on your lips before shifting onto his back and taking you with him. You rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Your fingers toyed with his chest hair, wondering how exactly a drunken text ended up like this.
The one where Andy isn’t the type of man you can deny, even if what he wants is for you to become his mistress.
Andy Barber is a feared mobster and your best friend’s husband. There were more than enough reasons never to look at him twice. But when he lets you know that he wants you, there’s little you can do to stop the terrible trainwreck you know it’s coming your way.
Warnings: smut, angst, mob!au, violence, noncon for blackmailing someone into sex, dubcon initially because eventually reader is into it, kind of a sugardaddy relationship, infidelity (you’re the other woman), betrayal of trust (you break your OC bestfriend’s trust), pregnancy, dominant relationship done wrong, humiliation (not of reader), controlling relationship, depictions of unhealthy relationships, exhibitionism, murder, asshole!andy, denial of feelings. I can’t stress this enough: Andy is not a good husband and not the best boyfriend either.
New warnings: name-calling, choking, humiliation, non-consensual public sex, self-hate, deepthroating, brief anal play, orgasm control, name-calling, degradation
A/N: Do not consider this a BDSM relationship because it isn’t. There’s no consent in it and no proper conversation about boundaries or safewords. Reader does enjoy the sex despite being forced into it because of blackmail but she’s reluctant about it because she doesn’t want to betray her friend’s trust. This still signifies a non-consensual relationship that you should not, under any circumstance, aspire to live in or portray in your life.
Special thanks to my patreons, who helped me choose the main character for this series!
Not me, re-reading this amazing series by @buckyownsmylife because one of the few works about Andy Barber that I cannot get enough of!
I love it more than Chris loves his satin pants in this gif!
Summary: After being stalked for almost two years and moving home three times, can you finally settle down? More importantly, can Andy convince you to stay?
Warnings: fluff (I hope that’s the point), Mentioned but not described in detail: attempted murder, stalking, assault, abduction.
You sit nervously on the wooden chair at the prosecutors desk listening to the defence lawyer, Davis Smith, give his closing argument. The jury isn’t buying it, the women are all tight-lipped and have stern expressions. The men seem bored. It’s true what they say, never trust a man with two last names.
“Lastly, I would like to thank you for your time,” Davis says and gives a slight bow before returning to his table next to his client, Sam Scott.
Andy Barber, your lawyer, twists in his seat to give you a reassuring smile and he doesn’t need to say anything, his grin says it all; ‘I’ve got this.’
He stands, buttoning his jacket up. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Davis has used my opening line of thanking you for your time. But let’s be honest, we all know your time has been wasted.”
Juror number six; a woman in her early thirties nods and is halfway through an eye roll before she gently coughs it away, realizing she’s supposed to remain neutral.
“This case should never have made it to this courtroom. Mr Scott-” Andy gestures toward the man sitting at the defence table as if the jurors could forget who’s on trial. “-stalked Y/N Y/L/N for over two years, simply because she was kind enough to buy him a coffee one morning after he forgot his wallet. He couldn’t handle rejection from a beautiful woman, he refused to take no for an answer so instead, he put her through hell. She moved homes three times, left a job she loved and eventually had to change cities to escape him because no one took her seriously.”
You met Andy at the hospital one day when you had been there to visit a friend. She’d just had a baby and you had brought gifts for the baby and your friend. As you walked by a private waiting room, you could hear sobbing from the other side of the door. Normally, you would have just kept walking but there was something that made you stop. Maybe it was the amount of pain you could hear as the man cried.
You softly knocked on the door and waited until you were told to come in.
The man sitting on one of the couches was wiping his cheeks, trying to hide the fact that he had just been crying his eyes out. You closed the door back behind you.
“I’m sorry.” You suddenly felt awkward and you regretted coming in.
“Do I know you?”
You shook your head no. “I was walking by the door and I heard someone crying. You seemed to be in pain and… I couldn’t just keep walking.” You looked at him. “Do you need anything? Can I go get anyone for you?”
Andy stared at you, unsure of what you were really doing there. Surely you knew who he was. By now everyone did. But there was something in your eyes. Sincerity. You weren’t there to pry, you weren’t there to try and get information to sell to the media. You heard a human being in pain and you stopped for them. Not knowing, or caring, who it was.
“Co- Could you stay?”
You nodded and walked over to the other couch, sitting down as you faced him.
You told him your name and waited for him to do the same.
“You don’t know who I am?” He asked, genuinely surprised.
You chewed on your lip nervously. “I’m sorry. Are you famous? I’m so out of it with pop culture.”
Andy laughed. A genuine laugh. He almost jumped at the sound he let out, he hadn’t heard himself laugh in so long.
“I’m Andy. Andy Barber.”
The name did sound familiar. You were racking your brain, trying to figure out where you had heard it. Then it hit you.
Andy Barber, father of Jacob Barber who was accused of murdering his classmate before his mom crashed the car into a brick wall.
Andy could tell the exact moment you had figured out who he was.
“Oh, Andy. I’m so sorry.” You reached over to him to squeeze his hand, a small comforting gesture.
You don’t know how long you sat in the waiting room, holding Andy’s hand as he spoke and cried.
