Siri (she/her) ✩ 40s ✩ Writer ✩ Fangirl ✩ Stargazer ✩ Shameless Hoe Queen ✩ Prolific Ruiner of Undergarments ✩ Basement Wifing Enthusiast ✩ Lady of Perpetual Hoeing ✩ Monster Lover ✩ Panty Slayer ✩ Masterlist & side blog for new fic notifications linked in my pinned post ✩ REQUESTS ARE CLOSED ✩ 18+ blog! ✩ Instead of serial liking, reblog or comment to support writers.
Hello! I'm Siri (she/her). Welcome to my blog! I write Chris Evans characters x Fem!Reader fanfic, with a little monster loving fic thrown in. So pull up a chair, have your backup panties on standby, and settle in for some shameless hoeing 😘
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Access my masterlist here.
↠ The Full Birthday Experience (Steve Rogers x F!Reader)
↠ A Soft Touch (Andy Barber x F!Reader)
↠ Security Enabled (Steve Rogers x F!Reader)
↠ Down Time (Curtis Everett x F!Reader)
↠ Unwelcome (Ari Levinson x F!Reader)
↠ Happy Birthday (Curtis Everett x F!Reader)
↠ Unshakeable (Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader x Ari Levinson)
↠ Uninhibited (Curtis Everett x F!Reader)
↠ Guard Dog (Pete Brenner x F!Reader x Frank Castle)
↠ Tit for Tat (Curtis Everett x F!Reader)
*This work is a short riff, drabble, or hoe thought vs a longer oneshot or series chapter.
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Pairing: Andy Barber x Female!Reader
Word Count: 4,683
Summary: It was hard to believe that once upon a time, Andy Barber was a stranger to you. Because now? Now he was your everything, just like you were his.
Warnings: Mob AU. Explicit language. Established relationship. Flashback. Mob boss!Andy. Reader is a delicate thing with a rough history. Boss/employee relations. Reference to non-con touching. Touch avoidant. Allusions to past abuse and forced sex work. But also a good amount of fluff and affection tbh.
A/N: I am beyond tickled that this Andy won my recent poll. He’s the one I’ve been most eager to write, but there are so many other stories and babes that I know deserve my attention, so it was hard to commit to him. Thank you for giving me an excuse to indulge and also expand this verse. I hope you enjoy this ❤️
P.S. Andy made his debut in mob enforcer!Ari’s story, but you don’t need to read that to read this.
It was getting to be that time of day when you were starting to flag.
As hard as you worked, as supportive and helpful as you wanted to be–especially to Andy–your brain could only handle so much.
Especially when you were running on barely a few hours of sleep last night.
So you finished the final must do on your list for the day, closing your laptop with a small swell of relief as you rose from your seat at the small table in the corner of Andy’s home office.
It was one of your favorite rooms in the manor, and not just because you spent so much time here with Andy. The decor was traditional–and expensive–a myriad of dark woods and butter-smooth leather. The walls were lined with built-in shelves, stacked with books and dotted with expensive pieces of decor, and even some antiques that probably cost more money than your brain could comprehend.
But your favorite personal touch were the two pieces of framed artwork hanging behind Andy’s desk. They were abstract and colorful, and each time you got swept away staring at them, you swore your eyes gleaned a completely new shape or scene or meaning behind them.
Andy once told you the story of how he had won them in a bidding war at an antique auction after months of tracking down any artwork he could find by his late mother’s favorite artist.
It seemed like such a small thing about himself that he had shared with you–but it showed the kind of man that Andy Barber was.
Devoted. Determined. Strategic. Patient when it counted most.
And never willing to give up.
You smiled as you slowly made your way to where he sat hunched over his executive desk, still deep in his own work despite the approach of early evening.
It was traits like his devotion and patience that had finally won you over completely–despite how gun-shy you had been at the mere idea of anything more with Andy.
With anyone, really, given your history.
But even you couldn’t deny that the more you got to know Andy, the more time you had spent with him, the more the thought of something more had taken root in your brain and began to flourish.
And now here you were.
Clocking your proximity, Andy finally pulled his eyes from his computer screen, straightening in his leather-back chair. His gaze softened as it landed on you, his lips tilting up at the corners into your favorite smile.
“All done for the day?” he asked, pushing his seat back and making room for you, because he knew you well.
So Andy didn’t bat an eye when you nodded in response to his question before slowly sinking to the floor, until you were sat between his feet and resting your cheek against his knee with a soft sound of contentment.
“I rescheduled your meetings for tomorrow to next week, like you asked,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering as Andy reached out and began to gently pet your head. “And I ordered flowers for Ari’s mother for her birthday next week, too.”
“Thank you, honey,” Andy murmured, his fingers teasing along the shell of your ear and making you shiver. “You take such good care of me, of all of us. I bet you even reminded Ari of his mother’s birthday, just to be safe.”
Your cheeks warmed, because Andy was right, and his tone was so fond colored with the kind of tenderness–just for you–that made your insides swoop and flutter. You hid your face against his leg, your insides fluttering some more at the sound of Andy’s quiet, husky laugh.
But speaking of Ari, something tickled your brain, something that made you frown as you tilted your face up and opened your eyes, your gaze shining with worry.
“How are things with the art gallery?” you asked. “Is the business owner next door still causing you trouble?”
Andy’s eyes danced at the mention of the woman who owned the tea and bookshop next door to his new business. “She’s nothing to fret over, honey. Ari’s taking care of her.”
At that, you nervously gnawed on your lower lip. As much as you had come to accept the fact that Andy was a mob boss–and sometimes had to do ruthless, unsavory things–he treated you so well, and was so loving, that it wasn’t an issue for you.
In fact, it provided a sense of security that you had never known until Andy–the fact that you now had such a powerful and competent protector.
But still… you didn’t like the idea of Ari hurting anyone, of the things you were sure he had done and was capable of doing. No matter how respectful and protective he was of you.
You didn’t wish his dark intentions on anyone, even someone who had proven to be a thorn in Andy’s side from day one.
But then again, given the rivals and competition he usually dealt with, this woman’s antics were almost… charming.
“Don’t look so worried,” Andy hummed, gently caressing your cheek. “He’s dealing with her in a way I’m quite certain she enjoys.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh.” Your eyes widened enough to make Andy laugh. “Well… good. I know the gallery is your pet project and the first business that you’re genuinely excited for.”
“And it’s the perfect front for arms dealing, which drives the most revenue, so really it’s a win win.”
You hummed in agreement, once again sinking against Andy as he continued his light touches and caresses. His fingers danced along the tension in your shoulders, moving slower and pressing firmly, until you were making a quiet sound of relief as the knots of tension seemed to melt away into nothing.
“You slept fitfully last night,” Andy said.
You nodded, leaning into the cradle of Andy’s palm that now rested against your cheek. He tilted your face up so he could get a better look at you, observing the shadows beneath your eyes with a small frown and furrowed brow.
“More nightmares?” he asked.
This time you hesitated, but only briefly, before nodding again.
You didn’t hesitate because you wanted to hide your struggles from Andy, or because you were embarrassed he had of course noticed the state of you, but more so just because you hated to think about your nightmares, and the things from your past that caused them.
At your admission, and the way your shoulders hunched and curled just a little, Andy’s touch instantly became more intentional. His hand moved to grip the back of your neck, squeezing in that way he knew melted your brain and made all of your anxiety dissipate.
Of their own accord, your hands lifted so you could cling to Andy’s thighs, pressing your forehead against his knee and nearly curling around his leg like a koala–greedy for his touch.
Even after all this time, you still couldn’t believe it, the way Andy’s touch affected you–in a good way. That you loved it and often needed it now.
Because there had been a time when you thought that you would never enjoy the touch of another again…
18 Months Ago
“Another month in the green,” Andy said, sounding pleased as he scrolled through the financial slides on the tablet he held.
“Bet you’re fucking tickled that you went all in on the club with me,” Lloyd Hansen preened, sinking back in his desk chair and giving Andy a shit-eating grin. “I told you this would be a money maker. There’s nothing like it for miles and miles.”
Andy hummed, setting the tablet on Lloyd’s desk, his face serious as he eyed the other man. “And I bet you’re fucking tickled that I gave you permission to set up shop in my territory.”
Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you made me work for it and go in halfsies with you, so.”
“You’re welcome,” Andy smirked.
Lloyd scoffed, opening his mouth to likely fire back something Andy would make him regret, but before he could speak a word, his office door flung open and you were forcefully shoved inside.
You squealed as Lloyd’s head of club security–the brute–gave you another shove that had you nearly face planting into the thick, expensive carpet.
“Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t to be interrupted?” Lloyd snarled at said brute.
“Sorry, boss,” he grunted, giving you a lethal glare, “but she caused a scene out on the floor.”
Lloyd’s eyes snapped to you so quickly that you flinched.
“Did she?” The chill in his voice had you cowering in dread as the security guy quickly ducked out of the office, pulling the door closed as he went and shutting you away with your prickly boss.
You were too terrified of Lloyd, and too distressed after what had happened out on the night club floor, to notice the stranger sitting across from Lloyd’s desk.
“This is the thanks I get for hiring your cry baby ass?” Lloyd hissed as he rose from his seat.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hansen,” you quavered as he rounded his desk and stalked closer. “But… I, I told you, I don’t like to be touched and one of the men out there, he grabbed me and–”
Lloyd didn’t stop his approach until he stood toe-to-toe with you, causing you to visibly tremble as you hugged yourself tightly and kept your head ducked low, your eyes fixed on your feet.
“You’re in a fucking night club, toots, dressed like that, might I add–“ Lloyd scoffed.
“You made me–“ you countered weakly.
“It’s called a work uniform.”
You thought that was a stretch as you eyed your outfit which wasn’t much more than a pair of metallic booty shorts and a sorry excuse for a shirt that nearly had your breasts spilling out the top.
And you weren’t even one of the cage dancers, you were just a server.
“You told me you needed this job, that you were desperate for work,” Lloyd growled.
At that, your head lifted, your gaze frantic as it met Lloyd’s. “I am, I do! Please, I’m sorry–“
Lloyd shook his head. “I can’t have you out there causing a scene anytime the clientele gets a little handsy. That’s part of the job. I mean, what the fuck did you think you were getting into working here?”
“Please, sir, I need this job. I don’t have anything else or anyone or–”
“Oh boo fucking hoo,” Lloyd sneered, dipping his head close and making you recoil. “I gave you a chance. I was more than generous. You get paid well. You get benefits. And this is how you thank me?”
Your chest hitched, a sob working its way up to your throat, because he was right. You had been so obviously out of your depth when you had shown up here for your interview, but you had also been beyond desperate for the gig, for a steady income, to survive.
And now you had gone and fucked it all up because you couldn’t just do what all the other servers did and acclimate to your environment.
“Get out,” Lloyd enunciated slowly before straightening. “And don’t come back.”
“No! Please!” Your voice was pitched with hysteria as panic flared within you.
Because you couldn’t lose this job.
“I can… I can do something else! Anything else!” you cried, trailing behind Lloyd as he turned his back on you and sauntered toward his desk. “I can tend bar or or do inventory or–”
He whirled on you suddenly, making you squeak as you walked right into him and then sharply drew back as if you’d been burnt.
There was a mean glint in Lloyd’s eyes as they slowly trailed over you, in a familiar way that had your belly sinking and your skin crawling.
“The only other use I have for you wouldn’t be ideal since you don’t like being touched, cupcake.” Lloyd made a lewd gesture with his fingers and tongue to get his point across, giving a mean laugh as you hugged yourself tightly and stumbled away from him. “That’s what I thought. I have no use for you. You’re useless. So get fucking gone.”
He turned away, clearly dismissing you, his words reverberating in your head loud enough to drown out all of your panicked thoughts.
Because you were useless.
Your tears finally fell as your devastation consumed you. You would be out of your shitty apartment within weeks if you couldn’t make rent. You’d be back on the streets, needing to do whatever it took just to get by.
You shuddered with dread just thinking about it. Especially in this city.
But you had nowhere else to go. No one to turn to.
You had nothing.
You were nothing.
“GET OUT!” Lloyd’s holler made you snap back to the present moment.
You physically jumped at his raised voice, whimpering before turning on your heel to scurry out of his office, but a quiet, unfamiliar baritone made you freeze in place.
“Wait.”
Lloyd huffed. “Really, Barber? You’re undermining me in my own club?”
“Our club. And I’m not undermining you. Just because you don’t have a use for her, Hansen, doesn’t mean I don’t.”
The tiniest, weakest flare of hope flickered within you as you turned and looked at the man who spoke, not nearly as bold in your gaze as he was.
Even though he was seated, you could tell that he was tall, his posture straight and confident, his shoulders broad beneath the dark suit jacket he wore. His skin was fair and flawless, his face shadowed with a dark, meticulously kept beard that matched the floofy swoop of his brown hair.
But it was his dark blue eyes that made your own gaze linger, and widen.
Because you realized that the stranger wasn’t watching you with a lecherous look like most men you’d come into contact with. His gaze was shining with something new and unfamiliar–sympathy, and calculation.
“Take her out to the car,” he nodded, and another man you didn’t even notice until now materialized from the dark corner of the office.
He was the biggest, broadest man in the room. His hair dark and long enough to curl around his blue, denim shirt collar. He was so big, in fact, that when he stepped toward you, you whimpered again, cowering at the sheer size of him.
“He won’t hurt you,” the stranger with the pretty blue eyes promised. “Go on. We’ll speak once I’m done here.”
You swallowed hard–nervously–but you were nodding before you even realized it, your body picking up on the softness in his tone and gaze before your brain did.
It made zero sense, especially given your history, but you trusted him, instinctively.
So you turned, grateful when the man you assumed was his bodyguard didn’t touch you as he corralled you out of the office and down the back hallway of the club.
Once you were tucked away in the dark, luxurious SUV parked out back, your mind started to spiral again, all the frantic noise inside your head blaring on a loop.
What were you doing?
You didn’t even know this man.
If he was in business with Lloyd, you couldn’t imagine he was much better.
But then you remembered the softness in his voice when he spoke to you. In his gaze when he looked at you.
He saw your fear and desperation and it seemed like maybe he actually wanted to help you.
Lord knew you could use that right about now.
You were startled from your thoughts as the back door opened and the stranger appeared, climbing in beside you. You noticed how he seemed intentional in keeping some distance between you–in respecting your personal space.
It was such a far cry from Lloyd and pretty much every other man you had ever met, that you felt a lump swell in your throat, and you had to look away from his intent gaze to blink the tears from your own.
“What’s your name?” he asked gently.
You took a breath, peeking over at him as you murmured your name.
He gave you a small smile, introducing himself in return. “I’m Andy Barber, it’s a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.”
Your lips trembled into an almost hopeful smile.
“You need work?”
You nodded fervently, so much so that you made yourself dizzy as you breathed, “Yes, sir.”
“Do you have any skills or notable experience?” Andy asked.
And just like that–you wilted.
Because you didn’t. You barely had an education, and your resume was laughable–just a string of odd jobs that never lasted long, and the kind of years-long gap that would make any eyebrow raise.
The only thing you had to offer was what Lloyd alluded to back in his office.
Yourself. Your body.
But you couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t. Not again. Not even if it was your choice this time.
You wouldn’t, you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t.
Andy’s quiet voice broke through your internal spiral–your mindless mental chant–as he told you, “You know, I didn’t start out at the top. I came from nothing. But someone with means saw potential in me. They gave me a chance. So I’m willing to do the same for you.”
And there it was again, that tiny flicker of hope sparking to life in the deep recesses of your tarnished soul.
“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask. “You don’t even know me.”
“I’m very good at reading people, and I think you’re someone capable of loyalty, and that I prize most above all. Skills can be taught, knowledge can be gleaned, but loyalty? Trust? Those are innate and of the utmost value, especially in my world.”
You looked at Andy again and couldn't help but shiver. His poise, his confidence, his direct gaze.
You weren’t quite sure who he was, but you knew that you had somehow stumbled your way into the path of someone important. Someone powerful.
Someone who maybe, if you earned his trust, if you made him proud, he would keep you safe.
And that, to you, was of the utmost value.
So you took a deep, shaky breath before whispering, “I can be loyal.” You swallowed before continuing, “And I can work real hard, no matter what you ask of me,” your voice faltered. “Except… I don’t… please, I’m not–“
Despite your fumbling, Andy seemed to understand where your mind had gone. What fear overtook you now.
You saw him reach for you–perhaps his intention was a comforting touch–but he must have remembered you didn’t like to be touched, because he pulled up short and his hand retreated, resting on his thigh instead.
“That isn’t what this is,” he said gently.
“Okay,” you squeaked, sinking beneath the weight of your relief. “Good. T-thank you.”
You peeked over at him again, feeling unsure but also a little mesmerized. Because Andy Barber was beyond handsome. In fact, he was beautiful, but his eyes… your gaze couldn’t stop returning to his and the softness that resided there.
No one had ever looked at you that way before.
Without vile or cruel intentions aimed your way. Without malice or greed. Without the promise of pain, or worse. So much worse.
“Well, this seems pretty cut and dry to me, and genuinely the most pleasant interview process I’ve ever experienced,” Andy said. “So, you’re hired.” He winked, looking delighted when that got a quiet giggle out of you.
But the sound of your amusement cut off abruptly as the car began to move, and you jolted upright, panicked.
“Relax,” Andy soothed, his fingers twitching against his thigh like he was once again resisting the urge to reach out with a comforting touch. “We’re just driving you home, and then you can come to my place tomorrow and we can discuss how you can best support me,” Andy explained. “Where do you live?”
You didn’t respond for a moment, not so much because you didn’t trust him–didn’t know him–but because you were embarrassed by the answer. But after a beat, you gave it to him anyway.
Andy didn’t wrinkle his nose in disgust or make a judgmental remark like Lloyd had when he read your address on your new hire paperwork. He just relayed the address to his bodyguard, who was driving, before sitting back in his seat.
“Would you be open to relocating?” Andy asked, clearly taking you by surprise. “If I have you assisting me daily, it makes the most sense for you to live on my property.”
“I…” you hesitated, not wanting to spoil this gift so soon after receiving it.
Especially since you had no other prospects.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you said carefully.
Andy’s eyes sparkled at your diplomatic answer. “You wouldn’t be. Most of my staff have quarters at my manor. Like Ari,” he nodded toward the beefy man in the driver’s seat. “Same with my personal chef and butler.”
“Oh,” you murmured, nervously wringing your hands together in your lap.
Because it seemed like Andy had a whole staff under his employ. Not to mention a manor.
Again, you couldn’t help but wonder who he was, whose orbit you had been drawn into.
“Can I think about it, please?” You asked, not wanting to give up all of your minimal autonomy at once.
Not wanting to make what could be a very life-changing decision before you knew Andy better.
“Of course,” he replied easily. “I can show you around tomorrow to help inform your decision. How does that sound?”
“Very generous.”
Andy shot you a small smile, and your belly swooped at the sight before you quickly looked away, your leg jiggling with nerves as Ari steered the SUV onto your street.
The vehicle eased to a stop at the curb just outside of your dingy apartment building, and you found yourself unable to look at Andy–to risk seeing the pity in his eyes.
“Here, why don’t we exchange numbers?” Andy suggested, fishing his cell phone from his inner jacket pocket.
You pulled your own dated device from your back pocket, quickly fulfilling his request before clutching your phone between your sweaty palms.
“I’ll send a driver to pick you up tomorrow at eight thirty, does that work for you?” Andy asked.
“Yes, but you don’t need to,“ you objected. “I can take the bus, or–”
“It’s a safety precaution on my end,” Andy assured you. “I don’t give out my home address to many. Not in my line of work.”
He winked to make light of something serious, and you once again found yourself wondering what–exactly–was Andy’s line of work?
What were you getting yourself into?
But you just as quickly shook that thought away, because this opportunity–Andy’s kindness–it was all you had, and it was truly a gift.
No one had ever done something like this for you before, had given you a chance, a helping hand in a moment when you needed it most.
And you wouldn’t waste it.
So you nodded, mustering a smile despite your anxiety as you told Andy, “I’ll be ready tomorrow at eight thirty.”
“Perfect,” he smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
He watched as you opened the car door and slipped outside, hesitating before you turned back to him. Because a new feeling was overriding your nerves now.
Gratitude.
You felt so very thankful for this unexpected opportunity. For Andy’s empathy and belief in you.
You weren’t used to getting help or lucky breaks.
You weren’t used to anyone caring about you in any way at all.
It must have been written all over your face too, all these thoughts swirling inside of you, because Andy’s features softened as he watched you, another one of those small smiles cursing his lips.
“Go get some rest, honey, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Your belly swooped at the term of endearment, and you lingered for a moment, wishing you were good with words, that you could articulate how grateful you were, how much this meant to you. But you finally settled on a very earnest, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”
“No need to thank me. And call me ‘Andy.’”
Your insides fluttered at his request, and you nodded. “Goodnight, Andy.”
“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching your retreat.
Despite the way you hurried up the front steps and into the entryway, the SUV seemed in no rush to depart, instead idling at the curb until you were safely inside.
You scurried up the four flights of stairs to your unit in a daze, your brain trying to process everything that happened tonight. You were out of your new job at the club, but it seemed like something better could be awaiting you.
Thanks to Andy.
You were terrified to really get your hopes up, because so rarely did things go your way, but this time, weirdly, the excitement–and anticipation to see Andy again–was something you just couldn’t shake…
“Come here, honey.”
The sound of Andy’s voice brought you back to the present moment, your hazy mind surfacing from one of the few pleasant memories you had.
Blinking owlishly, you glanced up to find Andy watching you in soft amusement, his big hand held out toward you.
You slipped your hand into his, allowing Andy to pull you first to your feet, then into his lap.
His arms circled you in an instant, tugging you close as his lips pressed a kiss to your forehead. As you went pliant against him, resting your cheek on his shoulder, he murmured, “We’re going away for a long weekend.”
Your head snapped up in surprise. “We are?”
Andy smiled as he caressed your cheek. “Well, as long as you want to, but it’s why I had you clear my calendar tomorrow. I think some peace, quiet, and nature will do you good.”
You couldn’t suppress your giddy smile if you tried. “We’re going to the lake house then?”
Andy’s smile was more of a grin as he nodded, “I know it’s your favorite.”
“Thank you, Andy!” you squealed, nearly bouncing in his lap as you hugged him and pressed a kiss to his beardy cheek.
Andy’s eyes twinkled at your sweet excitement. As you went to pull away, his fingers caught your chin, staying your retreat as his eyes ignited in a way that had a surge of warmth pooling low in your belly.
Slowly, his gaze meeting yours and not shying away, Andy pulled you in for a real kiss. The kind of kiss that made it impossible to catch your breath because you could feel with each and every press of Andy’s lips against yours how much he loved you, cherished you, wanted you.
You were nearly panting once he pulled away, your eyes dazed enough to make him smile.
“You never need to thank me for taking care of you,” Andy hummed, touching his lips to your forehead. “For treating you the way you deserve.” His next kiss warmed your cheek, then he placed a final kiss on the other before pulling away at last. “Why don’t you go pack?”
“I will, in a little while, but first, can we just…” You sank against him, loosely clinging to him as you nuzzled your cheek against his chest. “Stay like this for a little while?”
“We can stay this way for as long as you want,” Andy promised, his big hand touching your back before settling into a slow, soothing rhythm–up and down, up and down–making you go even more pliant against him.
Humming your content, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, truly feeling your exhaustion for the first time all day.
But you felt something else alongside it, something that–once upon a time, but not so long ago–you never would have thought you would ever feel…
As Andy’s soft, musky scent filled your nose, as his warm, reassuring touch smoothed up and down your back, as you tucked your face against the crook of his neck and breathed in as deep, you felt truly and unequivocally safe.
🥹 You guysss. I love them SO hard. I would be so beyond grateful and delighted if you took a moment to drop me a comment or reblog with your thoughts. Pretty please! With a naked Andy and Ari on top?! 😘
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Please take a moment to comment or reblog. It means a lot to hear from my readers after sharing a story that I put so much love into. Serial liking without engagement is the quickest way to kill my writing motivation, so please don’t do that. It only takes a moment to show a little love. Thank you 🙏🏻
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steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse: rockstar steve rogers
pairing: DARK rockstar!steve rogers x female reader
additional characters: bucky barnes, sam wilson, john walker, joaquín torres
summary: on his birthday, your favorite rockstar invites you back to his tour bus.
warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), dubcon and NONCON, nonconsensual group sex, nonconsensual somnophilia, nonconsensual free use, intoxication from alcohol and weed, smut, rough oral sex (m receiving), piv sex, painful sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, come marking, rough tit/nipple play, rough body play, marking/hickeys, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (sweetheart), abduction, stockholm syndrome, dead dove do not eat
word count: 1.9k
a/n: i had this idea the other day for a dark version of rockstar Steve would celebrate his birthday, and i just kind of ran with it and whew buddy 😰 i don't write dark fics very often but when i do, i always surprise myself. anyway, i did very much enjoy writing this and i might actually revisit it? if i did, i'd probably stick to Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters. idk. anyway, heed the warnings, and enjoy some dark, dirty filth!
steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse masterlist
Rockstar Steve Rogers celebrates his birthday by bringing the fan who caught his eye—you—back to his band’s tour bus to have some fun.
You start off in the front of the bus, sitting on the rockstar’s lap while you’re smoking and drinking and talking to his friends, but it isn’t long before Steve’s taking your hand and pulling you into the back. There’s a messy room with a queen bed at the rear of the bus, and you barely have time to register Steve closing the door behind him before he’s shoving you down to your knees.
At first, you’re eager, just happy to be sucking Steve’s dick, but he doesn’t let you have control for long. Without warning, he’s grabbing your head and pushing his big cock deeper into your mouth, making you choke and gag on his thick shaft, spit and tears flowing freely down your face.
But the rockstar of your dreams is praising you, telling you how pretty you look as a messy little slut on your knees for him. So you do your best to suffer through it, to breathe through your nose while he skull-fucks your mouth. You can almost pretend you’re having as much fun as he clearly is—and anyway, it’s his birthday. You just want him to have a good time, and you’re still grateful he chose you.
Before he can cum down your throat, Steve pulls out of your mouth and picks you up, tossing you onto the bed. You’re gasping for breath and before you can say a word, he’s on top of you, tearing your clothes off your body and sinking his cock, dripping wet with your spit, into your barely ready pussy.
It stings a little, and you wince, but Steve only laughs in your ear, amused at your pain and groaning at how tight you feel around him. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, already moving his hips in a rolling motion that, despite the ache in your core, starts to feel good. The rockstar teases you for being such a tight little slut for him, moaning loudly when your cunt clenches around his cock.
It’s only then that you realize Steve didn’t put on a condom, and you consider asking him to pull out and put one on, but then he’s bottoming out in you again, grinding the base of his cock against your clit. Between the pleasure, the delicious stretch of his cock in your cunt, and the drinks you’d had and the weed you smoked, your thoughts about protection are lost in the ether.
Steve fucks you hard and fast, emptying his balls inside you before you even have a hope of coming—but he’s not done with you. He hauls you up, arranging the two of you so he’s sitting against the headboard with you perched on his cock, using your pussy to keep his half-hard length warm while you drink and smoke some more.
He shotguns twice as much weed smoke into your mouth, until you’re floating and so hazy, you barely know what’s going on. It helps make everything feel good, though, including the way his big dick stretches your pussy nearly to its limit, and the way his hands grab your tits roughly, pinching your nipples and slapping the soft mounds with the flat of his palm.
You don’t know how much time passes like that, but sometime later, Steve is fucking you again, bouncing you on his cock while you giggle like a dumb little ditz, your bare body on full display for the rockstar. He doesn’t leave any part of you untouched, sucking hickeys into your skin, groping your tits and hips hard enough to leave bruises behind. It’s rough, but you’re so high that everything feels good.
You cum on Steve’s cock like that, and he groans when he feels your cunt gripping him tight, following you over the edge with his face buried in your tits. His cock throbs in your pussy, spilling a second load in your body, his cum starting to leak out around where he’s plugging you full.
The rockstar rewards you for making him cum again with more drinks and more weed, shotgunning even more smoke into your mouth until you black out. One of the last thoughts you have before your mind slips into darkness is how happy you are that you got to spend the night with your favorite rockstar on his birthday.
But if you think that’s all Steve Rogers has planned for you, you discover you’re very, very wrong.
For the rest of the night, you’re barely aware of your surroundings, coming in and out of consciousness to find Steve fucking you again—wait, no, not Steve. That’s Bucky Barnes behind you, pounding ruthlessly into your cunt while Steve’s cock is stuffed deep in your mouth. You can taste yourself on the rockstar’s dick, and you can feel an ache in your throat from how hard he’s thrusting, fucking your mouth like it’s a pussy.
Your head spins from lack of air and alcohol and weed, and you black out again. The next time you come to, you’re on your back, Sam Wilson above you, fucking into your aching cunt with slow, deep strokes. His thumb brushes your clit, and his lips whisper praise, calling you a sweet slut, making you cum hard enough that you lose consciousness again.
Bucky is on top of you again, rutting into your messy pussy while he sucks a hickey into the sensitive skin on your throat. You moan, the sound part pleasure and part pain, and Bucky chuckles meanly, telling you to be a good groupie whore and take his cock without complaint. You were made for this after all, isn’t that why you wanted to be chosen by Steve so badly?
Impossibly, you cum again at Bucky’s mean words and his even meaner fucking, your body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure tears ruthlessly through your exhausted body. It’s a relief when the darkness welcomes you back into its waiting arms, and you sink into it happily.
The next time you wake, you search for Steve. He’s sitting in a chair beside the bed, smoking, drinking and chatting with Bucky and Sam while he strums idly on an acoustic guitar. Slowly, you become aware of more men on top of you, but if Bucky and Sam are with Steve, who’s fucking you now?
It takes you a long moment to turn your head and focus your eyes enough to find two roadies on top of you—John Walker and Joaquín Torres. Their names surface from the dark depths of your mind. Steve had introduced them to you when you’d first gotten on the bus.
You’re too tired to do anything but lay in the soiled bed at the back of the band’s tour bus and take the cocks John and Joaquín are giving you—alternately thrusting into your pussy. You cling to the meager pleasure they offer, coming weakly once more before they pull out and jerk their cocks until they’re coating your bare skin with their seed.
Finally, you slip into a deep sleep, and you don’t wake again for many, many hours.
It’s early afternoon by the time you’re woken by the gentle rumble of the bus, and you take quick stock of your situation. You’re alone, surrounded only by the thick stench of sex, the sheets of the bed tangled around your naked limbs.
Your entire body aches, the pounding headache of a hangover beating against your skull, and it takes a very long time before you’re able to wrench your eyes open. When you do, your stomach sinks to see the landscape passing by the windows in the back room, taking you away from your home city where you saw the band play.
Steve enters the room, and you watch him warily. He doesn’t bother to close the door behind him as he rounds the bed and drops an unopened bottle of water and a couple painkillers on the side table built into the back wall. When you don’t move, he leans over and slaps your ass hard, making you jump and let out a tortured groan.
Distantly, you hear the laughter of a group of men at the front of the bus and your mind is inundated with flashes of vivid memories of how Steve had let his friends fuck you all night. A shiver races down your spine, something between fear and excitement filling your gut as your pussy flutters, cum leaking out of your well-used hole.
“Thanks for the birthday fuck, sweetheart. I had fun,” Steve says with an all-too-charming grin. He sits down on the edge of the bed, watching you roll over onto your back so you can sit up.
You take the ibuprofen and chug half the bottle of water, watching the rockstar. You want to ask Steve where the bus is going, already knowing it’s left your city behind, but your throat hurts. He must suspect what you want to ask because he volunteers the information.
“We’re headed to the next stop on the tour,” Steve explains, one of his hands settling lightly on your thigh. “If you want, we can drop you off there, and you can find your own way home…” He trails off, his hand skating up your leg until his fingers are teasing the entrance to your thoroughly fucked pussy. “Or you can stick around and keep having fun with us—all of us.”
Steve’s pretty blue eyes glitter like he hopes you’ll choose the second option. The tip of his finger circles your clit and just that little bit of pleasure has your body melting into the pillows at your back, your legs falling open. Steve’s grin widens, brightening so much, he’s almost too handsome to look at. You feel like a flower unfurling beneath the sun.
Even with the ache in your body, you think it might be worth it to stay on the bus, just to earn more praise from your favorite rockstar. So what if he lets his friends fuck you while you’re passed out, getting to belong to Steve Rogers is all you’ve ever wanted.
Besides, it’s not like you can afford to get yourself home. If the band leaves you at the next stop, you’ll have no way of getting back to your city. You only really have one option, so you might as well make the best of it. Steve, Bucky, Sam, John and Joaquín are handsome and they can make you cum, you’d be stupid to pass up the chance to be their free use fuck toy.
At least, that’s what you tell yourself to rationalize the only choice you have.
“I’ll stay,” you murmur.
You catch sight of Steve’s eager, feral grin before your eyes slip closed, and you will the ibuprofen to take effect. You lay limply in the bed as the rockstar climbs on top of you, his hands already pulling his dick out of his jeans.
“I hoped you’d say that,” Steve rumbles in your ear, sinking into your dripping pussy, not seeming to care that it’s his friends’ cum that’s making the slide so easy.
The stretch has you letting out a helpless moan, and you can feel the man on top of you chuckling against your cheek. He pulls his hips back, thrusting forward with punishing fierceness, clearly not caring about your comfort as he uses your cunt to get himself off.
“Be a good cock slave,” your favorite rockstar, Steve Rogers, tells you. “Let me fuck you like every night is my birthday, and I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.”
thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse masterlist
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Steve Rogers is the only man to ever make you feel good. Much to your despair, there are days when he's away and you're left all alone, with no one to love on your body. So you do what you should— ask Steve to teach you how to touch yourself. After all, he's the best, isn't he?
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut [guided masturbation (steve guiding reader) fingering, clit play, nipple stimulation, spitting, male masturbation, pussy job, pussy pronouns, steve knows your body more than you do. shirtless steve because his body is tea(ch). praise.]
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k
𝐀/𝐍: goodnessssssss!!!!!!! cate you're torturing me with these asks i have no idea how you manage to hit me straight in the feels with every single one. i started writing for mr barber but then I was like....wait a minute... i wanna write steve. And this kinda escalated.
⤷steve rogers masterlist
The room smelled like sex and patience. Nothing but his gentle words and your soft mewls in the air.
You had told him, hours ago, with a shy smile on your face and an urge to please in your heart, that you didn't know how to touch yourself—not like he did. How your touch just didn't feel the same. How much it pains you when you can't bring yourself to feel good when he's away on missions that last entirely too long.
And then he had told you, in that steely voice of his, to go up to the room, take off your clothes, and wait for him.
And wait you did.
---
Hands folded neatly in your lap as you sat on the soft duvets, clothes tossed somewhere near the end of the bed. You were shivering with anticipation of what was about to come.
You barely heard the soft click of the door as he walked in, steady and slow footsteps that echoed in the quiet of the room.
“You listened,” the words dragged you out of the haze you had been in, like cold water on a fevered body. “You're precious, aren't you?”
You felt a gush of arousal seep down your wet and waiting hole, coating your inner thighs with shame and excitement.
Steve Rogers had a way with his words, and you were known for falling victim to them. Even when he chose silence, one look, one glance from him was all it took to drive you to madness.
Smiling— pleased with you—he stripped off his shirt with deliberate slowness, never breaking eye contact. Every measured movement emphasized the hard lines of his shoulders and the thick curve of his biceps. His bare skin glowed under the soft light of the lamps, the raw strength corded in his muscles a sight to behold.
Dragging the chair to face you, he sits down heavily, his eyes never once leaving yours. His bulge was clearly visible underneath the soft material of his sweatpants, and you found it endearing that he was just as affected as you, despite the control and restraint he put on so perfectly.
“Now…” he begins, eyes drifting towards the headboard. “Get comfy.”
Dragging yourself till your back rested on the soft headboard— thanks to Steve and his immaculate choice in furnishing to make sure the time he spends with you in here doesn't leave you hurt— you look at him as he pulls out his half hard cock, palming it gently in his hand.
“Tell me, baby, what you do when I'm gone.”
A wave of shame took over you as you remembered the times you touched yourself in his absence.
“I use my fingers, an—and that toy you got me.”
He hums, a quiet acknowledgement to your words, already imagining how pretty and pathetic you must have looked rubbing yourself, crying out his name.
“Show me.”
A shaky breath leaves your lips, and you part your legs open to give him the full, unobstructed view to your slick pussy. The cool air of the room in your hot centre, along with his unrelenting gaze making you squirm in your place.
He doesn't react in loud, showy ways—merely a clinical observation of something that seemed mildly intriguing. He leans back, arms crossed as he waits for you to start.
You were drowning in nerves. He had seen everything, he had touched everything, yet touching yourself—presenting yourself in front of him like that seemed like the most wicked thing ever.
Stop it! It's Steve. Your Steve. He'll take care of you.
Your hands were shaking, fingers unsteady as you reached down to gingerly touch your mound. You look up— seeking his approval— as you press down on your clit with two of your fingers.
“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “That’s too hard, baby. Slower. Warm your body up.”
You yank your hand away, biting your bottom lip as you figure out how to warm your body up. Usually, it was Steve’s lips on yours, trailing kisses down your neck and your chest, his hands that groped and caressed your soft body that made warmth spread all over. But without him?
He seemed to understand exactly what was going on in your mind as he chuckled at your confused face.
“Touch your tits… just like I do. Play with your pretty nipples for me, baby.”
God… he really was going all in.
You nod your head as best as you could. Your brain was feeling all dizzy from just how intense the situation was. Just how vulnerable you were. Just how loved.
You drag your hands up your stomach, feeling your skin break in goosebumps as you go higher and higher, reaching the curve of your breasts. You caress them with gentle hands, squeezing them lightly—just feeling their weight and softness in your hands.
You reach higher still, and the first brush of your hand against your still soft nipples made you jump, the sensation so foreign, so powerful for something so menial.
You slowly run your hands over your sensitive nipples, heat curling low in your belly with each soft circle around your slowly hardening peak.
Once completely hard, you pinch them between your thumb and your forefinger, twisting and turning them slowly.
“Just like that…doesn't that feel so good?” he rasped, and you look down to see him stroking his cock, now completely erect and leaking precum in shiny pearls of white.
“Mmhm…s’feel so good,” you whine, already breathless.
“Good girl. Now spit on your tits. Get them all nice and shiny.”
Your eyes went wide at his words. But you did exactly what he told. Collecting saliva in your mouth, then spitting it straight down your chest. The thick, warm glob dripped down slowly, marking its trail across your sternum.
You swipe your fingers over the sticky wetness, dragging it over to cover your tits, circling your nipples. The extra slip it offered made the act so much more filthy. Your nipples were now pebbled into achy, hard buds and the more you rubbed them, the less it felt like relief and more like punishment.
On the armchair, Steve looked like a mess. A controlled mess, but a mess nonetheless. Pupils blown wide, chest panting, lips parted as he breathed in harsh inhales and exhales.
Seeing you like this was something out of his dirtiest dreams, the fantasies he has when he was young and stupid were now playing out in front of him and he didn't know how to stop himself from ruining the moment, take control and lose himself in you.
But he knew he had to.
For you.
For him.
“Does that hurt, baby? Too much for your tits?” He coos, voice rough like gravel but somehow still sickly sweet.
“Show me that pussy, love. Show me my girl…” as much as he liked seeing you toy with your tits, he needed to see you become a mess.
You nod, eyes half lidded already as you take your wet fingers to your pussy, parting your wet, sticky folds open with your fingers, baring yourself completely to him.
You hear him take a sharp inhale as he watches your juices drip down from your hole, clenching around nothing but air as it begs for him. Your clit was swollen and throbbing, dancing in the dim lights.
“You're so pretty… my pretty little girl. Did you miss me?”
His pretty little girl. He was talking to your cunt. You couldn't help the whimper that bubbled up your throat, far too gone at the way his words wrapped around you.
He squeezed his cock at the base, angling it just right so you could see his swollen head that shined in the dim lights, all the mess he'd made before even cumming.
“I miss you too, sweets. Just as much as you miss me.”
This time, you weren't sure if he was talking to you or your pussy. And you didn't care. Not really.
“Steve….please!” You whined, loud and shameless. You couldn't wait anymore, you needed him so bad.
“I'm here with you, aren't I? Just do as I say,” He purrs, amused at how needy you were for him to continue his instructions.
“Swipe your finger up and down your lips, baby. Play with the mess your pussy made for me.”
Your eyes close shut as you dipped your finger down to your drooling lower lips, running your fingertip up and down the soft, slippery skin.
You hear a strangled groan, and wet, stroking noises that sped up with each passing second. The veins of his neck were bulging now, the restraint threatening to snap each time your finger dipped in your pool of nectar.
“Fuck— just like that. Now touch your clit, little taps,” his brows furrow as he demonstrates the movement on himself, tapping the head of his cock softly, precum leaking out with each one.
Your mouth felt empty all of a sudden. Wanting to be full of him, his taste, his scent as he used you for his pleasure. He was the prettiest man you'd ever seen and how you got to call him yours was still a mystery to you.
One you don't think you'll ever figure out any way, but you're grateful for whatever past you did to deserve him.
You slowly pull at the hood concealing your clit from him, revealing it completely.
Tap!
Your back shot straight off the bed in a clean arch, pleasure shooting down your spine in intense bouts.
It was anything like you’d ever felt before. The teasing, the wait, the way his eyes bore straight into you and captured every single move, every single twitch of your body —it was too much.
“God—Steve! I—”
“You're doing so good, angel. Don't stop...” he hissed, squeezing at the base of his cock like you would.
You moaned out his name, though barely audible, drowned out in your pathetic mewls and cries.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Three consecutive taps and you could feel them in your limbs, running through your nerves endings and settling deep inside.
“Fuck…” he growls. “Put them inside. Slowly.”
You made an incomprehensible noise, somewhere between a yes and a curse.
Teasing your finger against your clenching opening, you slowly dip inside, just to the fingertip.
You felt so full.
So warm and wet and fluttery inside. So fucking tight.
You pause, chest rising up and falling down in a frantic pace, trying to get hold of reality.
Steve seemed to do the same, waiting for you to start moving again, just holding and caressing his heavy, full balls in his hand.
You cry out, your legs shaking violently as you push inside more. Down to the first knuckle, then more and more till you couldn't take no more.
You try to find that one spot inside you, but you knew damn well you wouldn't. It was only him that could do so. He knew your body more than you ever could and he prided himself in it. Being so in tune with you— owning your pleasure.
You pull your fingers out, a string of your wetness dragging out, connecting your hand back to your pussy. And then slowly plunge them back inside.
You do it over and over— curling your fingers upwards as you feel your walls tightening with each pass. Your jaw fell open as you feel the heat rising in your core.
You were close.
And he was too.
You could tell. His abs tightening, his hands shaking, his eyes fluttering close, and his breathing going ragged. He was close.
“Cum on me, Steve. I want your cum on me…”
His eyes tore open as he registered your words. He nods, a haste and shaky move, as he stands up and comes closer—climbing on the bed. Never once stopping stroking and twisting up and down his hard cock.
He leans down on you, shielding your body with his bigger, stronger one. His blue eyes looking straight through yours, then falling down at your bitten lips.
He doesn't give you another breath to take, instead engulfing your lips with his. The kiss wasn't soft, it was all biting and panting and licking inside each other's mouth, pouring into each other what words never could.
You felt his cock drag through your folds, and you whined into his mouth, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulder, feeling his bare skin.
He rubs the head of his cock over and over your already overly sensitive clit, massaging it in ways he knows would ruin you. Breaking the kiss to look down at where you two met, he groans as he feels his balls tighten painfully. He was at the edge of falling and he didn't want to stop. He couldn't.
Your face was contorted with overwhelming pleasure, your chest brushing his with each heavy breath you took. Your nails were digging into his skin painfully, sure to leave marks.
“Cum for me, baby. You're being so good for me, so fucking good.”
Your vision blacked out, sparks all across your eyes as your orgasm hit you.
You screamed into his skin as you found yourself drowning under its waves, too deep to ever get back up.
He shuddered above you, biting your neck to muffle his moans as he cums all over your pussy. The hot, sticky, spurts of his release painting you a sinful white.
He kept rubbing, riding out both of your orgasms, dragging it out for as long as possible, as much as your bodies could take.
“God, sweetheart. I love you…” he whispers, once your breathing slowed down and you returned back from the depths of your orgasm.
“You're my best girl.”
This might be the hottest thing I've ever written someone come give me a medal.
Author's Note- For Steve's birthday 🥰🥰 also this was all typed on my phone, half edited, and not super well beta'd 😘
masterlist
🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇
“Did you know that Steve hates his birthday??”
You and Bucky looked up from where you were sitting on the couch. You reading your book, he scrolling his phone. Both of you suddenly extremely confused.
Tony barged in - well, he owned the building -- to the main lounge, door slamming open behind him.
“You… couldn't be more wrong.” Bucky slowly said before a wide, confused grin and soft laugh left him.
“ Yeah, I think it's, like, the only thing that Steve will get excited about,” You added, turning your head as you sat up straight on the couch. Your book now long forgotten.
“Well, besides any other holiday where you can get someone else a gift. He's pretty fond of those…” Bucky quickly added, giving you a slight nudge.
“Listen, I know you guys are close or whatever. This is one thing you're absolutely wrong about.” Tony cut you two, off waving his hands and shaking his head to dispel anything you said that was contradictory. He crossed the room and firmly planted his hands on the back of the couch, leaning over the two of you.
Like a shitty sitcom, all three of you were facing forward towards an invisible camera and speaking to the imaginary fourth wall.
“ He won't let me plan him a party.” Tony finally said, extremely pouty.
You couldn't help but laugh at that. Of course that's why he was upset
“To be fair, Steve isn't a big party guy.” you acquiesced, giving a slight shrug and tucking your bookmark firmly into your book before folding it nicely putting it on the table.
“We do nice dinners and stuff. Why? Were you planning something bigger?” Bucky asked.
You rolled her eyes. Of course Stark was planning something bigger. Which he spent the next 2 and 1/2 minutes explaining exactly what that was.
An opulent party spanning all of the fourth of July. Of course it'd be adorn with as many fireworks as he could imagine - and probably some that weren't legal, but he was paying the fines off for anyways - food decked out to the nines, some of it overtly fancy, some of it garishly 4th of July themed.
None of it was really centered around Steve at the end of the day, but what really mattered was it was the 4th of July and you could light off little bombs and shoot them into the air! So who wouldn't want to celebrate?
“I just don't think Steve wants to celebrate like that.” You finally said, trying to find the softest and kindest way to shoot down Tony's plan.
“Yeah, that sounds more like the party you'd want to have thrown for you.” Bucky rolled his eyes and sunk further into the couch, arms crossed.
“ Yes, I gathered that,” Tony sarcastically sighed, “Which is why I'm asking you, his best friend and his partner, what he would like instead. And taking it with a grain of salt.”
You and Bucky shared a look for a long long moment before replying to Tony. It wasn't that you couldn't explain to Tony why Steve was all of a sudden turning down his request for parties, it was more so that it was kind of difficult to explain.
See, Steve, contrary to popular belief, was all for Tony's luxurious parties. It made sense, Steve didn't grow up with any kind of disposable money, so a party where he could eat, drink and be carefree for an entire night was honestly probably pretty close to exactly what the doctor ordered.
But when it came to his birthday? That was a day for him.
He didn't spend it alone, rather he spent it with some of his closest friends or family.
When he was younger it was with his mom. Going out to the stores to window shop, and maybe he was lucky they would get to buy a thing or two. Then afterwards they would go and climb onto a roof to watch the fireworks for his birthday. When he was really little, she told him that they were all for him.
When he was a bit older, that person was Bucky. Of course Bucky was able to afford a slightly nicer present for Steve, but being the kind man he was never wanted to upstage his mother. So instead they'd spend the entire week galavanting around and Bucky let Steve get away with a lot more than he probably usually would.
if they were out at one of the convenience stores Bucky would grab an extra candy bar and slip it to Steve. They'd get an extra soda with their lunches, which of course Steve's mom always packed for them.
And then, when the two of you started dating, and things got very serious… it became the day for you both.
You still tried to spoil Steve as much as possible.
A few years ago you had splurge on making a very fancy home dinner. You bought a very nice, professionally made cake. You dressed up nice and had him do the same. You then drug him out to a very fancy fireworks show that was happening on almost the other side of town, which of course required both of you rushing around and making sure you both look presentable.
And of course, as the gentleman he is, he appreciated it all.
Yet the following year you learned he preferred to have it simpler. So while you still made dinner, you wore more casual clothes. You stayed home and watched a movie. You, together, baked a cake instead of buying one. Then you watch the firework show from the comfort of your apartment.
There's another birthday or two between that one and now, and by now you truly learned what he liked.
You'd order in his favorite pizza, take a stroll down through Central Park watching some of the fireworks, when you were done meandering and getting a little sick with a haze in the air from all the smoke, you'd finally rush back to your apartment to put on your pajamas.
Last year, you'd gotten into your pajamas and then immediately onto his motorbike and drove as far out of town as you could and as little time as possible. He then found the tallest point he could so you could watch the fireworks from more of a distance. Just enjoying each other's company, talking about anything, and dozing on and off between watching the general city lights and the fireworks that lit up above.
While that was nice, this year you were hoping for something even simpler. Ordering pizza, getting into your pajamas, watching the fireworks from your apartment, and going to bed well before anyone was done lighting them.
That was Steve's preferred birthday. The day itself with just the one or two, maybe three at most people he valued the most.
You wondered if you would always be the one that he would cling to on a day like this. Or even the following years. Maybe after you've gotten married, would he prefer this with your kids? Would it loop back around and he'd want to hang out with Bucky as they got older? Would you one day not be enough, and he'd wish again to be six in Brooklyn with his mom?
You didn't like to think of those moments, so instead you thought about the pizza that you'd have to order soon for to arrive on time.
“I don't think he wants to hang out with you on his birthday.” Bucky finally answered Tony for you, seeing your slight out of focus gaze before snapping back to the moment.
“Well, damn okay.” Tony was taken aback by that, a slight annoyed scowl on his face, “If he doesn't want the party he can pretend that it's just for the 4th of July and not his birthday.”
“Throw the party either way,” you said, glancing back at the man, “Because whether or not it's for his birthday Steve won't go.”
Tony huffed again looking at you, and Bucky, you, and Bucky, and back at you again before finally giving you a look that just said ‘will you stop beating around the bush and tell me?!’
“Steve and I have plans. You know, because we're dating…” you said it in a way that was hopefully not coming off as ‘’duhh’’.
“Yeah but you guys did that couple shit last year.”
“Steve never celebrates his birthday in a big way.” Bucky slowly said looking at Tony, wondering if the man had ever picked up on that.
“Well no there was the one year--” Tony stopped himself as he tried to think about the year past. Tony may have thrown a 4th of July party, but it was not Steve's birthday party. “Hmph.”
======
“You already got pizza!” Steve grinned and loudly announced his presence as he walked into the kitchen.
He allowed himself a little bit of consumerism for the 4th of July. After all, his face was already pretty much branded across every single thing for the holiday, especially here in New York.
His shirt was funny enough and had you grinning as you turned from pulling out the pizza from the oven. It was a dark blue t-shirt with fireworks splayed out over the front and his face at half opacity just over the top. it looked corny but it was also one of the best shirts you've ever seen.
“Okay birthday boy. What do you want tonight?” you asked, smiling and leaning against the counter as he walked around. He sat down on one of the island stools facing you and mirroring the way you cupped your face with your hands and rest of your elbows on the counter.
“You.” he simply stated with a shrug.
You winked and could already feel your face getting a little pinker, “Don't worry you're getting that later tonight.”
He grinned once more and folded his arms on the counter, it was the boyish grin that had you falling for him all over again. Had your tummy swooping, your head getting light and dizzy, has you wanting to do anything just to see that over and over and over and over.
“While I'm excited for that,” he slowly said, “I guess all I want to do is spend a night with you. That sounds like fun, but as long as we don't leave this place I'm good.”
“Feeling like a homebody tonight?” you half teased as you turned to check on the pizza. You were only half teasing because it wasn't like Steve to completely isolate in this kind of way.
“Is it too much to ask for?” his tone wasn't sarcastic or annoyed. In fact, he actually sounded a little worry that he might have been asking for too much when in reality he was asking for a very very little.
“No! whatever you want's fine.” you glanced into the warm oven, cheese brown on top of the golden crust. you open the oven door and wave of heat hit you as you tug on an oven mitt to pull out the pizza. “In or out, here or the main Tower, hell, we can even go wander around an Old Navy or something! I don't care.”
You smiled as you heard him stand up, you thought how odd it would be if he did ask to go wander around a random mall, “Though if we do go out I very much need to get dressed. I showered after work and just kind of did not put any effort into looking nice.”
Your faded t-shirt that once belonged to him and shorts that were probably nearing the same age as the US now we're not ideal and walking around New York, “Can you grab us a couple plates? maybe some forks and napkins too.”
But as you turn to look at him, expecting to see him ruffling through your the cabinets, grabbing your plates and forks, with the hot pizza in your hand, there he was… down on one knee.
“I was hoping to pick a much better time to do this…” his voice was a strained whisper. His pose was perfect. 90° angle on both legs, back straight, hands purposely holding up a little black box, an opulent diamond ring in the middle. “I kept telling myself I shouldn't do it on the 4th and I should pick a different time to do it but…”
You weren't looking at the ring, you were looking right at him, mouth a gape as you held the hot pizza in your hand. His eyes were wide and a little scared, a little anxious, but a little hopeful as well.
“I just couldn't wait any more.” He breathed out, wetting his lips and adjusting the hold on the velvet box.
“Steve, I…” you were at a loss for words. Blinking profusely to hold back tears.
“Should put this down, before you hurt yourself,” He stood and stepped closer to you, hardly even blinking as he grabbed the hot pan and set it on the countertop, “So…?”
He cupped your face with a hand, tilting your head to look up at him. You threw off the gloves and let them clatter to the floor. Grabbing his goofy shirt you pulled him into a kiss.
“Yes! Of course, yes!” You grinned and mumbled against his lips. He returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close.
The swirl of emotions made you both feel a sudden zing of energy. Your kiss was growing hungrier and hungrier, needier and needier. The sounds of fireworks in the distance only amplify the thundering of your heart as your lips crashing into each other and hands gripping shirts and waists and shoulders and arms and faces.
It didn't take much convincing for you to skip over dinner and movie and go straight to bed. The bed where you, quite happily, got to show off the deep red, navy blue, and slightly off white lingerie you had bought.
Steve took every moment that night to not admire just your body and the ring on your finger. But the way you said his name. He wanted to memorize the look of your body as multicolored fireworks flashed from the windows. The way you keened and rolled with his hands and touch. The way it seemed that you fit perfectly with him in every way.
And he especially didn't want to forget all of the birthdays that you gave him. The perfect nights he had had.
===
You woke with a start, the ring still foreign on your finger as you glanced over at the clock on your nightstand. hIt was almost 3:00 in the morning.
Your heart thumped harshly in your chest and you could feel a slight cold sweat forming on your brows, groggily woke up next to you blinking and rubbing his eyes.
“wh-s' wrong?” he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. He tried to tug you back down to bed, without pajamas on, your loss of body heat was practically a loss of all heat.
What are we doing to surprise GOT Steve for his birthday 🙂↔️
I was thinking of what would actually surprise Alpha Steve, because he's so perceptive and notices any scheming (for a secret party, or a weekend away) you might be doing - and while he absolutely appreciates it, he'd want to help to unburden you a little and doesn't it ruin the surprise aspect? 😂
But what if it was a different surprise?
The bbq party with closest friends is decided on weeks before. Being woken up with a blowjob is also a classic hot gift, which Steve isn't surprised by but is very appreciative of.
What he doesn't expect, however, is... how good, sweet and obedient his Sweet Brat is on the day of his birthday! 🤭
No plotting, no secret teasing, not tempting him to bend you over a surface to spank you for your behavior. Absolute angel, with the softest touch and smile, and a lot of love in every look in your eyes.
And you say those words so many times that day. You come to his side when he minds the grill and just snuggle against him. You keep his plate full and even sneak away the last piece of cake for him to enjoy later.
Later, when the night sky is clear of the fireworks and everyone is gone, you drop your dress to the floor and ask: "What would Alpha want his Omega to do now?"
How does Old Fashioned Man!Steve spend his birthday? 🤭
Ahh this, this one did take me a bit of time to ponder on, cos I dont think Steve's that much of a birthday guy...
Steve didn’t make a habit of celebrating his birthday.
Not properly.
There were always people who tried. Bucky, Sam, others in his circle who slapped his shoulder too hard and wished him another year. Neighbours in the know who sent food up to the office. Discharged soldiers who came to the luncheon the Commandos put on, lingering with glassy eyes and stories they only trusted other men like him to understand.
Every year, Steve hosted it for all of them. For the people who fell under his watch.
Every year, he paid for the tables, the drinks, the envelopes passed quietly to widows and sons who needed more help than pride allowed them to ask for.
Every year, he smiled when expected.
But he never made the day about himself.
“Fourth of July belongs to everyone,” he’d said, like that was the end of it. “Easier that way.”
Except this year, after the luncheon had emptied and his men had drifted into the comfortable noise of their own plans, Steve excused himself and went looking for you.
He stood in your doorway in a pale shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, jacket hooked over one finger, expression too careful to be casual.
“You busy tonight, sweetheart?”
Your hands still holding the wood of your door.
“That depends.” You sounded curious without meaning to. Steve was still something you weren’t all that sure over. Though he hadn’t made you feel obligated yet, despite everything.
His mouth curved.
Not quite a smile. Not yet.
“I was thinking Coney Island,” he started shifting his jacket to hook over his arm “Fireworks. A walk after, if you’ll let me.”
You paused, considering his offer.
Steve Rogers did not ask for things lightly.
And maybe birthdays didn’t matter to him.
Maybe he didn’t need cake, or candles, or a room full of people singing badly just to prove he was loved.
But he was standing in your doorway on a day the whole city tried to claim from him, asking for one small piece of it back.
With you.
“I’ll go find my gloves.”
For the first time all day, Steve Rogers looked like he had gotten exactly what he wanted.
I’m so down bad for him and this whole verse oh my god 😭 Setting up how kind of indifferent he is to his birthday and the whole ordeal, but then him purposefully seeking you out and asking you to spend time with him 🥹 I love him so much!
steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse: ex-con steve rogers
pairing: ex-con!steve rogers x female reader
summary: steve agrees to watch the fireworks with the neighbor he shouldn't want, and it leads to more than he ever dared to hope for.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), unspecified age gap, smut, dry humping, semi-public sex, kissing, making out, Steve's a yearner in this fic
word count: 1.2k
a/n: the request for ex-con Steve comes from @stargazingfangirl18—specifically ex-con almost silver fox Steve who's happy for his second lease on life—and i had a lot of fun writing this one!! i had the idea of Steve yearning for his pretty young neighbor and i ran with it, and i'm really happy with how it turned out!! hope y'all enjoy!
steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse masterlist
Ex-con Steve Rogers spends his birthday with his sweet little neighbor—you.
He knows you’re too young and sweet for him. He’s known it since the day he moved into the building, and you were the only one kind enough not to treat him any differently because he’d done time. He knows he shouldn’t accept the invitation when you ask him up to the roof to watch the Fourth of July fireworks.
But Steve can’t help himself when it comes to you. He can’t help the filthy thoughts that infiltrate his mind when he sees you wearing a pretty little sundress, your hair and makeup done up to make you look gorgeous. You’re too young and far too tempting for how long he’s gone without being touched by a woman.
Steve has to work hard to keep himself under control as you spread out a soft blanket on the roof, refusing to think about laying you down on it and having his way with you. What would a pretty young thing like you want with an old man like him? He’s got more gray hairs than the years of your life you’ve lived, so he’s determined to keep his hands to himself.
While you settle onto the blanket, Steve looks around the roof and wonders why no one else from the building is up there to watch the fireworks. He’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse to be all alone with you in the darkness of the July night, and as he sits down, he’s careful, making sure not to touch you, unsure if he’ll be able to stop himself if he starts.
But when the fireworks start, you scoot closer to Steve and lean against his side, and it feels all too natural to put his arm around your shoulders. It nearly does him in when you look up at him and smile, like nothing in the world would ever make you feel safer than being with him. He tries to remind himself why he needs to stay away from you, but his resolve is crumbling as he stares down at you.
It’s your eyes, bright and sparkling as you look at him, and your mouth—so pretty and enticing, especially when it’s curved into a smile that’s just for him—that make Steve forget all the reasons he shouldn’t want you. He does want you, and he’s tired of running from it. He’s spent too many years trapped, and now that he’s free, he’s not going to take his second chance at life for granted.
So Steve kisses you. Soft at first, giving you a chance to pull away, slap him, run from him the way he expects you to. But you don’t. Instead, you lean into him, one of your hands pressing gently against his chest, right over the place where his heart is thumping against his ribs like it’s trying to escape.
Steve knows, somewhere deep in his bones, that if he were to put his heart in your hands, you’d be gentle with it. You’d take care of it—you’d take care of him the same way he wants to take care of you. Wholly, unreservedly, for the rest of your lives.
You’re the one to deepen the kiss, dragging Steve back from his overly romantic thoughts and into the moment. The fireworks are still going off in the sky above the Brooklyn apartment building where the two of you live, but Steve only cares about you—and kissing you.
Steve kisses you slowly, methodically, learning every dip and curve of your lips before he ventures into your mouth, exploring the wet heat and discovering the teasing menace that is your tongue. You kiss him hungrily, so voracious that Steve can practically feel your desire thrumming beneath your skin as he skims his hands up your arms and down your sides.
It takes all of Steve’s hard-won control not to give in to the lust churning in his gut, making his cock strain almost painfully against the fly of his jeans. He’s determined to take things as slow as you’ll let him, but then you’re laying back on the blanket and pulling him down on top of you, spreading your soft thighs to give him somewhere perfect to land.
He can feel the sinful heat of your cunt through his jeans and your thin dress, and when his hips roll, pressing the bulge of his cock into your soft center, you let out a throaty moan that has him leaking in his pants. Steve’s mouth, which had been busy licking and sucking down the line of your neck, returns to your mouth, swallowing your sounds of pleasure while his hips rock between your thighs.
Your breathy whimpers and thready moans are the most beautiful music to Steve’s ears, and he has the errant thought that if only he could hear you make those sounds every day for the rest of his life, every shitty day that had come before would have been worth it. A shiver races down his spine at the thought, not yet daring to hope you’ll want him for more than the night, and he kisses you harder, wanting to taste your pleasure straight from your lips.
All too soon, Steve realizes he’s at the brink of his release, his cock throbbing in his jeans, his balls drawing up against his body, ready to spill. He refuses to cum before you do, though, so he wraps one of his big hands around your soft thigh, spreading you open even wider so he can grind deeper into your clothed cunt.
Your moans turn into high-pitched, keening whines, breathless pleas for more falling unbidden from your kiss-bitten lips. You’re so fucking pretty, Steve thinks to himself, the glimmer of fireworks lighting your skin in shades of pink, blue and white. His heart beats heavy in his chest and he knows he’s done for—in more ways than one.
Steve’s hips jerk, thrusting against your heated pussy harder than before, and he watches you come apart for him, your face twisting up in pleasure before you let out a low moan of his name. And it’s that, the sweet way you say his name in your pleasure-drunk voice, that sends him over the edge.
A low, feral growl tears from Steve’s lips, and his hips hump erratically against your pussy while his cock erupts in his jeans. He’s sure to stain the denim with his hot seed, but he doesn’t care because you’re pulling him closer and burying your face in his beard, little sounds of pleasure muffled against his throat.
When he’s spent, Steve wraps his arms around your body and rolls onto his side, tucking you into his chest, marveling at the way you fit perfectly against him. You murmur a sleepy apology about making him cum in his pants and Steve can only chuckle and tell you the honest truth, that it was the hardest he’s ever cum in his life, and he’s just glad he could get you off before he made a fool of himself.
You giggle softly, snuggling deeper into his chest and promising to make it up to him. Steve shushes you gently and presses a kiss to your head, watching the finale of the fireworks while thanking the universe for giving him the best birthday present an ex-con like him could’ve asked for—you.
thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse masterlist
You’re too young and far too tempting for how long he’s gone without being touched by a woman.
Happy to help remedy this immediately ☺️
Steve knows, somewhere deep in his bones, that if he were to put his heart in your hands, you’d be gentle with it. You’d take care of it—you’d take care of him the same way he wants to take care of you. Wholly, unreservedly, for the rest of your lives.
Crying on the rooftop 😭😭😭 Please get married and live happily ever after 😤
Sweet lord, the dry humping to completion 😶🌫️ That was so fucking hot. The desperation of it 😮💨🤌🏻
I’m so glad Steve got exactly what he wanted for his birthday 🥹
Thank you so much for treating us! I loved this so much!
This August, prepare yourselves for some shameless hoe shenanigans: Siri’s Birthday Bash: Favorite Things Edition 🤭
The event will be August 15-18, but I wanted to post info now so writing challenge participants have lots of time to work on their stories. Writing challenge submissions will be accepted starting August 15 and through the end of August (or later if needed; I’m flexible and don’t want you to stress ❤️)
There are two ways to participate in my birthday bash (you can do both, or just one, whatever you want!):
The writing challenge
Submitting your Superior AI Custom Order
🤭 That’s right, my good hoes, since the theme of my event is my favorite things, I wanted my “party favors” to be inspired by one of my favorite verses to write! Please note that Superior AI Custom Orders are limited to one submission per person, and that submissions will only be accepted during the event dates noted.
All event details and the Superior AI Custom Order Form are beneath the cut. If you have any questions, please feel free to reach out! Thank you so much! Can't wait to have some birthday fun with you all ❤️
GENERAL EVENT DETAILS
When: August 15-18
*Writing challenge submissions will be accepted through the end of August (or later if needed).
How to Participate:
🎁 Birthday Gifts aka the writing challenge
🎉 Party Favors aka Submit Your Superior AI Custom Order
🎁 BIRTHDAY GIFTS (AKA THE WRITING CHALLENGE) 🎁
Rules for Fic Entries:
500 word minimum, 5,000 word max. (Please put your story under a cut after 150 words.)
Original works only. If your story is part of a series, it must be able to be read as a standalone piece.
Please tag me @stargazingfangirl18 when posting your story.
Include the tag #happy birthday siri 2026 on the original post of your fic (not on reblogs or reblog replies, please.)
Any genre accepted! Can be fluff, angst, smut, comedy, AU, dark, soft!dark, whatever you want.
Please stick to the CE characters listed below, and no RPF.
Reader insert stories only. LGBTQ+, BIPOC, & interracial stories are welcome and encouraged!
No toilet stuff, no necrophilia, no snuff, or bestiality. Non-con and dub-con must fall within commonly posted dark fics. (FYI: I personally don’t read daddy kink, mommy kink, spit kink, lactation kink, harsh degradation, dumbification, or anything focusing on health/illnesses/medical details/scenarios.)
Please include warnings as needed for explicit language, explicit sexual content, non-con, dub-con, dark fic, trigger warnings, 18+, etc.
Odds & Ends:
Each writer can submit a maximum of 3 stories.
Writers DO NOT need to claim prompts.
Smut writers and characters must be 18+.
Writers can also submit a Superior AI Custom Order but please keep it to one submission per person.
You do not need to write smut, I know it’s not everyone’s jam.
I reserve the right to not read or reblog anything that makes me uncomfortable.
Writing Challenge Babes & Prompts
BABES
Andy Barber
Ari Levinson
Bryce Langley
Cole Turner
Curtis Everett
Frank Adler
Jake Jensen
Lloyd Hansen
Pete Brenner
Ransom Drysdale
Reverend Drew
Robert Pronge (aka Mr. Freezy)
Steve Rogers
PROMPTS
Pick at least 1 prompt. You can pick more than 1, and you don’t need to claim prompts:
SCENARIOS:
Being a predatory babe’s prey (in a sexy way, not a hungry way lolll)
Sweet and/or Vulnerable!Reader x Scary!Hot!Babe
Being blackmailed by someone unlikely
Scary babe is only soft with you
Commitment phobe!babe is high key obsessed with you
A titillating encounter with a monster!babe
You’re an actual human disaster, but soft!dark babe finds it charming
Emotional constipation
Making a deal with the devil
Meet!oops or fail
Sacrificing yourself to a dangerous babe to save someone else
Being betrayed by someone you trust
DIALOGUE:
“I was just going to punish you, but now? Now I’m going to annihilate you.”
“Oh my god, how can someone be so fucking oblivious?!”
“You have no idea what your scent does to me.”
“That’s it! I’m done! No more adulting, no more responsibilities, no more anything! We’re just going to lay here and cuddle and hide from the rest of the world.”
“You picked the wrong man to steal from.”
“I have no idea what the future holds, but what I do know is that I want you by my side for every second of it.”
“I’ve never had someone so innocent, but by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be as corrupted as me.”
“Did you just… propose to me?”
“You know I reward loyalty and good work, and I thought she would make such a sweet, pretty gift.”
“Please, just give me one more chance. I know I can be better, for you. I would do anything for you.”
“The only thing you have to offer that’s of any interest to me is that sweet, warm place between your legs. So strip and show me just how badly you need my help.”
“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, but we really need to talk.”
KINKS:
Breeding kink (non-pregnancy version)
Size kink
Praise kink
Somnophilia
Prone bone
Squirting
Manhandling
Oral sex (f receiving)
Anal play/sex
Overstimulation
Monster fucking
Creampie
TROPES:
Omegaverse
Mob AU
Good girl x bad boy
Biker AU
Delulu babe or Reader
Mercenary AU
Human disaster!Reader or babe
Conqueror AU
Friends to lovers
Sugar daddy/baby AU
Guard dog!Babe
CEO AU
🎉 PARTY FAVORS (AKA SUBMIT YOUR SUPERIOR AI CUSTOM ORDER) 🎉
Rules for Submission:
Submissions will only be accepted during the event dates of August 15-18. Those sent before or after those dates will be discarded.
You must submit your order by sending me an ask that answers the questions below.
There is a limit of 1 submission per person (please respect this limit, even if you request on anon; I don’t want to be overwhelmed or stressed).
Odds & Ends:
If you’re new to my Superior AI verse, you can check it out here.
Even if your babe of choice isn’t an AI in my verse, you can still request them for your custom order. Think of these resulting drabbles as AU :)
I may not get to every submission within the event timeframe, but I’ll try my best to answer all of them eventually, so please be patient.
Submit Your Superior AI Custom Order Form
Send me an ask with the following info, and I will write a (likely AU) Superior AI verse drabble starring the CE!babe of your choice! I’ve written these questions in one paragraph to make it easier for you to copy/paste, but you can space them out when you send your ask. Thank you!
Superior AI Custom Order Request: 1) Your CE!babe of choice (If you’d rather I pick the babe for you, let me know). 2) What are the top 3 reasons why you are ordering an AI? 3) Soft, soft!dark, or dark? 4) Smut or no smut?
Thank youuu. But also, happy birthday to me 🫠 lolll.
—
Tagging some fellow hoes who may be interested or want to signal boost the event, no pressure though! (Sorry if I forgot anyone, I’m awful at tagging lol.) ❤️
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1,937
Summary: You couldn’t admit that you wanted to make Steve’s birthday special, so instead, you had to put a very you spin on it.
Warnings: A/B/O AU. Explicit language. Mild sexual content. Alpha!Steve. Sassy omega!Reader. Established relationship. Omegaverse dynamic and details (like scenting, mating glands, etc.). Fluff. Feels. Being emotionally constipated. Slight dirty talk.
A/N: Surprise, my lovelies! I’m so happy to join in on @witchywithwhiskey ‘s birthday event for Steeb 🥹 Thank you for hosting and helping me choose which Steve to write, Molly! I hope you enjoy this ❤️
Pound Town Masterlist
Steve turned away from the coffee machine, jumping a little as he found you standing a few feet away, on the other side of the marble kitchen isle, staring at him in a way that was accusatory.
“Who’s sneaking up on who now?” he laughed, his smile faltering as your eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you have something you’d like to tell me, Hercules?” you challenged, your look haughty and knowing and annoyed.
“Um.” Steve frowned in confusion, his eyes glinting with concern as they flickered between yours.
After a moment, you saw something in his gaze shift, his jaw setting slightly as this look of now-or-never sort of determination glimmered in his eyes, making a surge of panic swell within you.
Because oh my god, that wasn’t what you meant!
So before Steve could open his mouth and say something you were not yet ready to hear, you beat him to it, tossing a piece of opened mail on the counter.
Steve blinked down at it, frowning once more as he glanced between you and the paper before him. “...my driver’s license renewal card?”
You huffed, leaning closer and stabbing your finger at the date of birth printed on the card stock. “Your birthday is in a few weeks! And you haven’t mentioned it at all!”
“Oh.” Steve’s big, broad shoulders lifted as he gave you a sheepish look, a rosy flush staining his cheeks and working its way to the tips of his ears. “I just… didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“Well what if I want to?” you glared at him. “You were just going to rob me of the full birthday experience?” You made something close to jazz hands that had Steve choking down a laugh because you did seem genuinely irritated by this. “That’s so selfish of you, Hercules,” you finished with a huff, crossing your arms for good measure.
Even though he was able to suppress his laughter, Steve wasn’t able to do the same with his smile. He grinned big, blue eyes twinkling with a very fond sort of mirth as he rounded the counter and pulled you into his arms.
“You’re right, omega, I’m the worst.”
“Truly!” you nodded in agreement, your own lips twitching as Steve interlocked his hands at the small of your back and kissed your cheek.
“Next year, I’ll be sure to set monthly reminders for you about my birthday so it’s always top of mind,” Steve murmured, kissing your other cheek. “It won’t be obnoxious at all.”
You nearly giggled, but were able to maintain your stink eye as you gave him an unimpressed look. “You better,” you hmphed, realizing your mistake a second after you spoke.
That you didn’t object to the fact that you would still be here–with Steve–a year from now.
You hadn’t really thought much about the future since you were a young omega, still brimming with hope and not yet beat down by the state of the world.
But now… after months of being in Steve’s orbit, of… whatever this was between you–because you still weren’t ready to admit that you were together–the thought of this whole thing not being temporary, of it being your future, of Steve being your future…
Well, it was an idea that you didn’t hate.
You could tell by the warmth and softness in Steve’s gaze that he was thinking along the same lines as you, but again, you just couldn’t with what ifs, and big feelings, and more.
Not yet.
“So,” you cleared your throat, pretending to fiddle with the collar of Steve’s t-shirt so you could escape his intese gaze for a moment. “What would the perfect birthday look like to you?”
Steve was quiet for a moment, for more than a moment, and you felt a swirl of anxiety in your stomach, worried that you had upset him by side-stepping the almost emotional landmine.
But when you peeked up at him, Steve’s gaze was just as warm and soft as a moment ago, and he was giving you a small, boyish smile as he replied, “I think I have an idea that we’ll both enjoy.”
A few weeks later, on Steve’s birthday, his idea came to fruition, and for the first time in a very long time–maybe ever–you really were getting the full birthday experience, even if it wasn’t your birthday.
But that didn’t make it any less perfect.
Because Steve had driven you upstate to a small lake house in the middle of the woods.
You couldn’t remember the last time you had been out of the city, and it truly felt like a slice of heaven to be surrounded by nature and quiet and have Steve all to yourself on his special day.
His special day was just part of the week-long vacation he had surprised you with, and he really had planned it all so perfectly. The fridge and pantry were stocked with your favorite prepped foods and takeout, so neither of you would need to cook. And he had gotten a cute little birthday cake, along with lots of other treats, from his favorite bakery.
And now, you were both enjoying the gorgeous tranquility around you, as you and Steve sat on the dock out back of the house, watching the sun set over the lake.
You gave a quiet sigh of contentment as you sank back in the circle of Steve’s arms, allowing your head to fall to the side as his nose skimmed up the side of your throat as he took his time scenting you.
It was actually the first time you two had ever done this–scenting outside of sex–and you didn’t hate it. You were kind of obsessed with it to be honest.
In fact, you had never been so squirmy in your life, your mind pleasantly hazy and quiet for once as you gave a soft chirp when Steve pressed a kiss to your unmarked mating gland.
“You smell so good, omega,” he murmured against your skin, inhaling deeply and purring with satisfaction as he basked in your scent. “You always do.”
Your inner omega chirped up a storm, loving Steve’s attention and admiration as you turned your face so you could nuzzle his nose with yours.
Steve kissed you gently, his eyes so soft and happy as he told you, “This really is the perfect birthday.” His lips touched yours again, lingering this time before he pulled away and breathed, “Thank you, omega. I mean it.”
As he often was, Steve was so earnest in his words and feelings, but something about the sheer affection for you that was coloring his alpha scent had you feeling shy, and a little cranky to be honest.
Because you were still getting used to how much Steve made you feel and want, even after knowing him for months. But you shoved down the minor flare of irritation that you knew was a defense mechanism, because you would not be bitchy with Steve on his birthday.
So instead, you playfully rolled your eyes, murmuring, “You’re such a sap.”
“Only for you,” Steve grinned.
Your scent spiked with your own joy–and something wanting–and he huffed a laugh.
He leaned in and kissed your mating gland, laughing again as you squealed and tried to squirm away, overwhelmed by how sensitive that part of you was, especially under Steve’s attention.
“How do you like it?” he rumbled, eyes twinkling as you huffed and twisted in his hold to glare at him.
For a moment, you just gave him the best stink eye you could muster, and then, you pounced.
Of course you knew that Steve was letting you “attack” him as he fell back against the dock and took you with him. But that didn’t make it any less silly or fun as you wrestled with him until you straddled his hips and had his hands pinned above his head, preening your victory.
“Well now that you’ve got me, what are you gonna do with me?” Steve husked, his eyes noticeably darker as you hovered over him.
For probably the millionth time, you were nearly struck dumb by how gorgeous Steve was. His skin smooth and flawless, his golden hair gleaming in the setting sun and now perfectly mussed. And his eyes–those pretty blue eyes–so expressive as he watched you, as he waited for whatever you deemed came next.
For a long, quiet moment, you just stared at each other, and then your eyes flickered down to another feature of his that you sure did love–those plump pink lips.
Those plump, pink, kissable lips.
“I have a few ideas,” you finally replied before swooping close and capturing his lips with yours.
Steve groaned into your mouth as you traded pinning his wrists for framing his face between your hands. You made your own sound of delight when you felt his touch at your hips, his fingers pressing into you, holding you tight and urging your body against his even more.
Your lips teased and tasted until both you and Steve were breathless, and when you finally pulled back enough to raggedly inhale a gulp of air, you paused for a beat, your eyes dancing as you said, “I want smores.”
“I want more too,” Steve immediately returned. His big hand cradled your cheek and tried to reel you back in for another kiss, but you pulled away.
Giggling as you sat up over him, you shook your head, lips curled into a playful smirk as you tutted, “Keep it in your pants, Hercules. I want smores. You promised we’d make them using that little fire pit on the back deck.”
For a long moment, Steve just stared up at you, uncomprehending, gaping. And it was nearly enough to make you cackle, but then he blinked owlishly, his brain rebooting, and he didn’t look disappointed at all as he said, “Oh. Right.” Instead, he gave your hips a squeeze, his grin boyish as he continued, “I’ll go set it up now.”
You couldn’t help the dreamy sigh that bubbled past your lips as Steve helped you to your feet. Because he really was so good, so perfect.
And he was all yours.
Preening for a different reason now, you looped your arm through Steve’s, pressing close to his side as you two began to slowly walk back up the dock.
You felt mischievous as you glanced over and drank in the still flushed state of Steve’s cheeks, the way his lips were still kiss swollen, too.
“After smores, then I’ll give you more,” you teased, shooting Steve a wicked grin. “You can spend the rest of my night fucking me full of your cum and keeping me on your knot, birthday boy.”
Steve tripped over his own feet, making you burst into laughter as you grabbed onto him to help steady his steps, enjoying the way his flush deepened for an entirely different reason now as he shot you a stink eye.
“You’re such a menace," he muttered, but he was already grinning again as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you flush against him. “But you’re my menace.”
“Well happy birthday to you,” you chimed, laughing into Steve’s side as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
He held you just a little bit tighter as he murmured against your hair, “You’re the best birthday present ever,” rumbling his content as you caught his hand with yours, twined your fingers together, and stayed tucked close as you cleared the dock and made your way back to the lake house.
—
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Pairing: Andy Barber x Female!Reader
Word Count: 4,683
Summary: It was hard to believe that once upon a time, Andy Barber was a stranger to you. Because now? Now he was your everything, just like you were his.
Warnings: Mob AU. Explicit language. Established relationship. Flashback. Mob boss!Andy. Reader is a delicate thing with a rough history. Boss/employee relations. Reference to non-con touching. Touch avoidant. Allusions to past abuse and forced sex work. But also a good amount of fluff and affection tbh.
A/N: I am beyond tickled that this Andy won my recent poll. He’s the one I’ve been most eager to write, but there are so many other stories and babes that I know deserve my attention, so it was hard to commit to him. Thank you for giving me an excuse to indulge and also expand this verse. I hope you enjoy this ❤️
P.S. Andy made his debut in mob enforcer!Ari’s story, but you don’t need to read that to read this.
It was getting to be that time of day when you were starting to flag.
As hard as you worked, as supportive and helpful as you wanted to be–especially to Andy–your brain could only handle so much.
Especially when you were running on barely a few hours of sleep last night.
So you finished the final must do on your list for the day, closing your laptop with a small swell of relief as you rose from your seat at the small table in the corner of Andy’s home office.
It was one of your favorite rooms in the manor, and not just because you spent so much time here with Andy. The decor was traditional–and expensive–a myriad of dark woods and butter-smooth leather. The walls were lined with built-in shelves, stacked with books and dotted with expensive pieces of decor, and even some antiques that probably cost more money than your brain could comprehend.
But your favorite personal touch were the two pieces of framed artwork hanging behind Andy’s desk. They were abstract and colorful, and each time you got swept away staring at them, you swore your eyes gleaned a completely new shape or scene or meaning behind them.
Andy once told you the story of how he had won them in a bidding war at an antique auction after months of tracking down any artwork he could find by his late mother’s favorite artist.
It seemed like such a small thing about himself that he had shared with you–but it showed the kind of man that Andy Barber was.
Devoted. Determined. Strategic. Patient when it counted most.
And never willing to give up.
You smiled as you slowly made your way to where he sat hunched over his executive desk, still deep in his own work despite the approach of early evening.
It was traits like his devotion and patience that had finally won you over completely–despite how gun-shy you had been at the mere idea of anything more with Andy.
With anyone, really, given your history.
But even you couldn’t deny that the more you got to know Andy, the more time you had spent with him, the more the thought of something more had taken root in your brain and began to flourish.
And now here you were.
Clocking your proximity, Andy finally pulled his eyes from his computer screen, straightening in his leather-back chair. His gaze softened as it landed on you, his lips tilting up at the corners into your favorite smile.
“All done for the day?” he asked, pushing his seat back and making room for you, because he knew you well.
So Andy didn’t bat an eye when you nodded in response to his question before slowly sinking to the floor, until you were sat between his feet and resting your cheek against his knee with a soft sound of contentment.
“I rescheduled your meetings for tomorrow to next week, like you asked,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering as Andy reached out and began to gently pet your head. “And I ordered flowers for Ari’s mother for her birthday next week, too.”
“Thank you, honey,” Andy murmured, his fingers teasing along the shell of your ear and making you shiver. “You take such good care of me, of all of us. I bet you even reminded Ari of his mother’s birthday, just to be safe.”
Your cheeks warmed, because Andy was right, and his tone was so fond colored with the kind of tenderness–just for you–that made your insides swoop and flutter. You hid your face against his leg, your insides fluttering some more at the sound of Andy’s quiet, husky laugh.
But speaking of Ari, something tickled your brain, something that made you frown as you tilted your face up and opened your eyes, your gaze shining with worry.
“How are things with the art gallery?” you asked. “Is the business owner next door still causing you trouble?”
Andy’s eyes danced at the mention of the woman who owned the tea and bookshop next door to his new business. “She’s nothing to fret over, honey. Ari’s taking care of her.”
At that, you nervously gnawed on your lower lip. As much as you had come to accept the fact that Andy was a mob boss–and sometimes had to do ruthless, unsavory things–he treated you so well, and was so loving, that it wasn’t an issue for you.
In fact, it provided a sense of security that you had never known until Andy–the fact that you now had such a powerful and competent protector.
But still… you didn’t like the idea of Ari hurting anyone, of the things you were sure he had done and was capable of doing. No matter how respectful and protective he was of you.
You didn’t wish his dark intentions on anyone, even someone who had proven to be a thorn in Andy’s side from day one.
But then again, given the rivals and competition he usually dealt with, this woman’s antics were almost… charming.
“Don’t look so worried,” Andy hummed, gently caressing your cheek. “He’s dealing with her in a way I’m quite certain she enjoys.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh.” Your eyes widened enough to make Andy laugh. “Well… good. I know the gallery is your pet project and the first business that you’re genuinely excited for.”
“And it’s the perfect front for arms dealing, which drives the most revenue, so really it’s a win win.”
You hummed in agreement, once again sinking against Andy as he continued his light touches and caresses. His fingers danced along the tension in your shoulders, moving slower and pressing firmly, until you were making a quiet sound of relief as the knots of tension seemed to melt away into nothing.
“You slept fitfully last night,” Andy said.
You nodded, leaning into the cradle of Andy’s palm that now rested against your cheek. He tilted your face up so he could get a better look at you, observing the shadows beneath your eyes with a small frown and furrowed brow.
“More nightmares?” he asked.
This time you hesitated, but only briefly, before nodding again.
You didn’t hesitate because you wanted to hide your struggles from Andy, or because you were embarrassed he had of course noticed the state of you, but more so just because you hated to think about your nightmares, and the things from your past that caused them.
At your admission, and the way your shoulders hunched and curled just a little, Andy’s touch instantly became more intentional. His hand moved to grip the back of your neck, squeezing in that way he knew melted your brain and made all of your anxiety dissipate.
Of their own accord, your hands lifted so you could cling to Andy’s thighs, pressing your forehead against his knee and nearly curling around his leg like a koala–greedy for his touch.
Even after all this time, you still couldn’t believe it, the way Andy’s touch affected you–in a good way. That you loved it and often needed it now.
Because there had been a time when you thought that you would never enjoy the touch of another again…
18 Months Ago
“Another month in the green,” Andy said, sounding pleased as he scrolled through the financial slides on the tablet he held.
“Bet you’re fucking tickled that you went all in on the club with me,” Lloyd Hansen preened, sinking back in his desk chair and giving Andy a shit-eating grin. “I told you this would be a money maker. There’s nothing like it for miles and miles.”
Andy hummed, setting the tablet on Lloyd’s desk, his face serious as he eyed the other man. “And I bet you’re fucking tickled that I gave you permission to set up shop in my territory.”
Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you made me work for it and go in halfsies with you, so.”
“You’re welcome,” Andy smirked.
Lloyd scoffed, opening his mouth to likely fire back something Andy would make him regret, but before he could speak a word, his office door flung open and you were forcefully shoved inside.
You squealed as Lloyd’s head of club security–the brute–gave you another shove that had you nearly face planting into the thick, expensive carpet.
“Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t to be interrupted?” Lloyd snarled at said brute.
“Sorry, boss,” he grunted, giving you a lethal glare, “but she caused a scene out on the floor.”
Lloyd’s eyes snapped to you so quickly that you flinched.
“Did she?” The chill in his voice had you cowering in dread as the security guy quickly ducked out of the office, pulling the door closed as he went and shutting you away with your prickly boss.
You were too terrified of Lloyd, and too distressed after what had happened out on the night club floor, to notice the stranger sitting across from Lloyd’s desk.
“This is the thanks I get for hiring your cry baby ass?” Lloyd hissed as he rose from his seat.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hansen,” you quavered as he rounded his desk and stalked closer. “But… I, I told you, I don’t like to be touched and one of the men out there, he grabbed me and–”
Lloyd didn’t stop his approach until he stood toe-to-toe with you, causing you to visibly tremble as you hugged yourself tightly and kept your head ducked low, your eyes fixed on your feet.
“You’re in a fucking night club, toots, dressed like that, might I add–“ Lloyd scoffed.
“You made me–“ you countered weakly.
“It’s called a work uniform.”
You thought that was a stretch as you eyed your outfit which wasn’t much more than a pair of metallic booty shorts and a sorry excuse for a shirt that nearly had your breasts spilling out the top.
And you weren’t even one of the cage dancers, you were just a server.
“You told me you needed this job, that you were desperate for work,” Lloyd growled.
At that, your head lifted, your gaze frantic as it met Lloyd’s. “I am, I do! Please, I’m sorry–“
Lloyd shook his head. “I can’t have you out there causing a scene anytime the clientele gets a little handsy. That’s part of the job. I mean, what the fuck did you think you were getting into working here?”
“Please, sir, I need this job. I don’t have anything else or anyone or–”
“Oh boo fucking hoo,” Lloyd sneered, dipping his head close and making you recoil. “I gave you a chance. I was more than generous. You get paid well. You get benefits. And this is how you thank me?”
Your chest hitched, a sob working its way up to your throat, because he was right. You had been so obviously out of your depth when you had shown up here for your interview, but you had also been beyond desperate for the gig, for a steady income, to survive.
And now you had gone and fucked it all up because you couldn’t just do what all the other servers did and acclimate to your environment.
“Get out,” Lloyd enunciated slowly before straightening. “And don’t come back.”
“No! Please!” Your voice was pitched with hysteria as panic flared within you.
Because you couldn’t lose this job.
“I can… I can do something else! Anything else!” you cried, trailing behind Lloyd as he turned his back on you and sauntered toward his desk. “I can tend bar or or do inventory or–”
He whirled on you suddenly, making you squeak as you walked right into him and then sharply drew back as if you’d been burnt.
There was a mean glint in Lloyd’s eyes as they slowly trailed over you, in a familiar way that had your belly sinking and your skin crawling.
“The only other use I have for you wouldn’t be ideal since you don’t like being touched, cupcake.” Lloyd made a lewd gesture with his fingers and tongue to get his point across, giving a mean laugh as you hugged yourself tightly and stumbled away from him. “That’s what I thought. I have no use for you. You’re useless. So get fucking gone.”
He turned away, clearly dismissing you, his words reverberating in your head loud enough to drown out all of your panicked thoughts.
Because you were useless.
Your tears finally fell as your devastation consumed you. You would be out of your shitty apartment within weeks if you couldn’t make rent. You’d be back on the streets, needing to do whatever it took just to get by.
You shuddered with dread just thinking about it. Especially in this city.
But you had nowhere else to go. No one to turn to.
You had nothing.
You were nothing.
“GET OUT!” Lloyd’s holler made you snap back to the present moment.
You physically jumped at his raised voice, whimpering before turning on your heel to scurry out of his office, but a quiet, unfamiliar baritone made you freeze in place.
“Wait.”
Lloyd huffed. “Really, Barber? You’re undermining me in my own club?”
“Our club. And I’m not undermining you. Just because you don’t have a use for her, Hansen, doesn’t mean I don’t.”
The tiniest, weakest flare of hope flickered within you as you turned and looked at the man who spoke, not nearly as bold in your gaze as he was.
Even though he was seated, you could tell that he was tall, his posture straight and confident, his shoulders broad beneath the dark suit jacket he wore. His skin was fair and flawless, his face shadowed with a dark, meticulously kept beard that matched the floofy swoop of his brown hair.
But it was his dark blue eyes that made your own gaze linger, and widen.
Because you realized that the stranger wasn’t watching you with a lecherous look like most men you’d come into contact with. His gaze was shining with something new and unfamiliar–sympathy, and calculation.
“Take her out to the car,” he nodded, and another man you didn’t even notice until now materialized from the dark corner of the office.
He was the biggest, broadest man in the room. His hair dark and long enough to curl around his blue, denim shirt collar. He was so big, in fact, that when he stepped toward you, you whimpered again, cowering at the sheer size of him.
“He won’t hurt you,” the stranger with the pretty blue eyes promised. “Go on. We’ll speak once I’m done here.”
You swallowed hard–nervously–but you were nodding before you even realized it, your body picking up on the softness in his tone and gaze before your brain did.
It made zero sense, especially given your history, but you trusted him, instinctively.
So you turned, grateful when the man you assumed was his bodyguard didn’t touch you as he corralled you out of the office and down the back hallway of the club.
Once you were tucked away in the dark, luxurious SUV parked out back, your mind started to spiral again, all the frantic noise inside your head blaring on a loop.
What were you doing?
You didn’t even know this man.
If he was in business with Lloyd, you couldn’t imagine he was much better.
But then you remembered the softness in his voice when he spoke to you. In his gaze when he looked at you.
He saw your fear and desperation and it seemed like maybe he actually wanted to help you.
Lord knew you could use that right about now.
You were startled from your thoughts as the back door opened and the stranger appeared, climbing in beside you. You noticed how he seemed intentional in keeping some distance between you–in respecting your personal space.
It was such a far cry from Lloyd and pretty much every other man you had ever met, that you felt a lump swell in your throat, and you had to look away from his intent gaze to blink the tears from your own.
“What’s your name?” he asked gently.
You took a breath, peeking over at him as you murmured your name.
He gave you a small smile, introducing himself in return. “I’m Andy Barber, it’s a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.”
Your lips trembled into an almost hopeful smile.
“You need work?”
You nodded fervently, so much so that you made yourself dizzy as you breathed, “Yes, sir.”
“Do you have any skills or notable experience?” Andy asked.
And just like that–you wilted.
Because you didn’t. You barely had an education, and your resume was laughable–just a string of odd jobs that never lasted long, and the kind of years-long gap that would make any eyebrow raise.
The only thing you had to offer was what Lloyd alluded to back in his office.
Yourself. Your body.
But you couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t. Not again. Not even if it was your choice this time.
You wouldn’t, you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t.
Andy’s quiet voice broke through your internal spiral–your mindless mental chant–as he told you, “You know, I didn’t start out at the top. I came from nothing. But someone with means saw potential in me. They gave me a chance. So I’m willing to do the same for you.”
And there it was again, that tiny flicker of hope sparking to life in the deep recesses of your tarnished soul.
“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask. “You don’t even know me.”
“I’m very good at reading people, and I think you’re someone capable of loyalty, and that I prize most above all. Skills can be taught, knowledge can be gleaned, but loyalty? Trust? Those are innate and of the utmost value, especially in my world.”
You looked at Andy again and couldn't help but shiver. His poise, his confidence, his direct gaze.
You weren’t quite sure who he was, but you knew that you had somehow stumbled your way into the path of someone important. Someone powerful.
Someone who maybe, if you earned his trust, if you made him proud, he would keep you safe.
And that, to you, was of the utmost value.
So you took a deep, shaky breath before whispering, “I can be loyal.” You swallowed before continuing, “And I can work real hard, no matter what you ask of me,” your voice faltered. “Except… I don’t… please, I’m not–“
Despite your fumbling, Andy seemed to understand where your mind had gone. What fear overtook you now.
You saw him reach for you–perhaps his intention was a comforting touch–but he must have remembered you didn’t like to be touched, because he pulled up short and his hand retreated, resting on his thigh instead.
“That isn’t what this is,” he said gently.
“Okay,” you squeaked, sinking beneath the weight of your relief. “Good. T-thank you.”
You peeked over at him again, feeling unsure but also a little mesmerized. Because Andy Barber was beyond handsome. In fact, he was beautiful, but his eyes… your gaze couldn’t stop returning to his and the softness that resided there.
No one had ever looked at you that way before.
Without vile or cruel intentions aimed your way. Without malice or greed. Without the promise of pain, or worse. So much worse.
“Well, this seems pretty cut and dry to me, and genuinely the most pleasant interview process I’ve ever experienced,” Andy said. “So, you’re hired.” He winked, looking delighted when that got a quiet giggle out of you.
But the sound of your amusement cut off abruptly as the car began to move, and you jolted upright, panicked.
“Relax,” Andy soothed, his fingers twitching against his thigh like he was once again resisting the urge to reach out with a comforting touch. “We’re just driving you home, and then you can come to my place tomorrow and we can discuss how you can best support me,” Andy explained. “Where do you live?”
You didn’t respond for a moment, not so much because you didn’t trust him–didn’t know him–but because you were embarrassed by the answer. But after a beat, you gave it to him anyway.
Andy didn’t wrinkle his nose in disgust or make a judgmental remark like Lloyd had when he read your address on your new hire paperwork. He just relayed the address to his bodyguard, who was driving, before sitting back in his seat.
“Would you be open to relocating?” Andy asked, clearly taking you by surprise. “If I have you assisting me daily, it makes the most sense for you to live on my property.”
“I…” you hesitated, not wanting to spoil this gift so soon after receiving it.
Especially since you had no other prospects.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you said carefully.
Andy’s eyes sparkled at your diplomatic answer. “You wouldn’t be. Most of my staff have quarters at my manor. Like Ari,” he nodded toward the beefy man in the driver’s seat. “Same with my personal chef and butler.”
“Oh,” you murmured, nervously wringing your hands together in your lap.
Because it seemed like Andy had a whole staff under his employ. Not to mention a manor.
Again, you couldn’t help but wonder who he was, whose orbit you had been drawn into.
“Can I think about it, please?” You asked, not wanting to give up all of your minimal autonomy at once.
Not wanting to make what could be a very life-changing decision before you knew Andy better.
“Of course,” he replied easily. “I can show you around tomorrow to help inform your decision. How does that sound?”
“Very generous.”
Andy shot you a small smile, and your belly swooped at the sight before you quickly looked away, your leg jiggling with nerves as Ari steered the SUV onto your street.
The vehicle eased to a stop at the curb just outside of your dingy apartment building, and you found yourself unable to look at Andy–to risk seeing the pity in his eyes.
“Here, why don’t we exchange numbers?” Andy suggested, fishing his cell phone from his inner jacket pocket.
You pulled your own dated device from your back pocket, quickly fulfilling his request before clutching your phone between your sweaty palms.
“I’ll send a driver to pick you up tomorrow at eight thirty, does that work for you?” Andy asked.
“Yes, but you don’t need to,“ you objected. “I can take the bus, or–”
“It’s a safety precaution on my end,” Andy assured you. “I don’t give out my home address to many. Not in my line of work.”
He winked to make light of something serious, and you once again found yourself wondering what–exactly–was Andy’s line of work?
What were you getting yourself into?
But you just as quickly shook that thought away, because this opportunity–Andy’s kindness–it was all you had, and it was truly a gift.
No one had ever done something like this for you before, had given you a chance, a helping hand in a moment when you needed it most.
And you wouldn’t waste it.
So you nodded, mustering a smile despite your anxiety as you told Andy, “I’ll be ready tomorrow at eight thirty.”
“Perfect,” he smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
He watched as you opened the car door and slipped outside, hesitating before you turned back to him. Because a new feeling was overriding your nerves now.
Gratitude.
You felt so very thankful for this unexpected opportunity. For Andy’s empathy and belief in you.
You weren’t used to getting help or lucky breaks.
You weren’t used to anyone caring about you in any way at all.
It must have been written all over your face too, all these thoughts swirling inside of you, because Andy’s features softened as he watched you, another one of those small smiles cursing his lips.
“Go get some rest, honey, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Your belly swooped at the term of endearment, and you lingered for a moment, wishing you were good with words, that you could articulate how grateful you were, how much this meant to you. But you finally settled on a very earnest, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”
“No need to thank me. And call me ‘Andy.’”
Your insides fluttered at his request, and you nodded. “Goodnight, Andy.”
“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching your retreat.
Despite the way you hurried up the front steps and into the entryway, the SUV seemed in no rush to depart, instead idling at the curb until you were safely inside.
You scurried up the four flights of stairs to your unit in a daze, your brain trying to process everything that happened tonight. You were out of your new job at the club, but it seemed like something better could be awaiting you.
Thanks to Andy.
You were terrified to really get your hopes up, because so rarely did things go your way, but this time, weirdly, the excitement–and anticipation to see Andy again–was something you just couldn’t shake…
“Come here, honey.”
The sound of Andy’s voice brought you back to the present moment, your hazy mind surfacing from one of the few pleasant memories you had.
Blinking owlishly, you glanced up to find Andy watching you in soft amusement, his big hand held out toward you.
You slipped your hand into his, allowing Andy to pull you first to your feet, then into his lap.
His arms circled you in an instant, tugging you close as his lips pressed a kiss to your forehead. As you went pliant against him, resting your cheek on his shoulder, he murmured, “We’re going away for a long weekend.”
Your head snapped up in surprise. “We are?”
Andy smiled as he caressed your cheek. “Well, as long as you want to, but it’s why I had you clear my calendar tomorrow. I think some peace, quiet, and nature will do you good.”
You couldn’t suppress your giddy smile if you tried. “We’re going to the lake house then?”
Andy’s smile was more of a grin as he nodded, “I know it’s your favorite.”
“Thank you, Andy!” you squealed, nearly bouncing in his lap as you hugged him and pressed a kiss to his beardy cheek.
Andy’s eyes twinkled at your sweet excitement. As you went to pull away, his fingers caught your chin, staying your retreat as his eyes ignited in a way that had a surge of warmth pooling low in your belly.
Slowly, his gaze meeting yours and not shying away, Andy pulled you in for a real kiss. The kind of kiss that made it impossible to catch your breath because you could feel with each and every press of Andy’s lips against yours how much he loved you, cherished you, wanted you.
You were nearly panting once he pulled away, your eyes dazed enough to make him smile.
“You never need to thank me for taking care of you,” Andy hummed, touching his lips to your forehead. “For treating you the way you deserve.” His next kiss warmed your cheek, then he placed a final kiss on the other before pulling away at last. “Why don’t you go pack?”
“I will, in a little while, but first, can we just…” You sank against him, loosely clinging to him as you nuzzled your cheek against his chest. “Stay like this for a little while?”
“We can stay this way for as long as you want,” Andy promised, his big hand touching your back before settling into a slow, soothing rhythm–up and down, up and down–making you go even more pliant against him.
Humming your content, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, truly feeling your exhaustion for the first time all day.
But you felt something else alongside it, something that–once upon a time, but not so long ago–you never would have thought you would ever feel…
As Andy’s soft, musky scent filled your nose, as his warm, reassuring touch smoothed up and down your back, as you tucked your face against the crook of his neck and breathed in as deep, you felt truly and unequivocally safe.
🥹 You guysss. I love them SO hard. I would be so beyond grateful and delighted if you took a moment to drop me a comment or reblog with your thoughts. Pretty please! With a naked Andy and Ari on top?! 😘
—
Please take a moment to comment or reblog. It means a lot to hear from my readers after sharing a story that I put so much love into. Serial liking without engagement is the quickest way to kill my writing motivation, so please don’t do that. It only takes a moment to show a little love. Thank you 🙏🏻
I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @sirisshamelesshoelibrary and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘
Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. I also do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI platforms. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️
I’ll be hosting a birthday event in August that will include a writing challenge. Originally, I was going to post event details and prompts on July 18, one month out from my birthday. But I’m wondering if folks who’d like to participate would find it helpful if I posted sooner so they have more time to plan/write? Let me know!
happy birthday, Steve Rogers!! 🥳🥳 thank you to everyone who sent in AUs and/or are joining in on my Steve Rogers' birthday across the multiverse event by writing a fic to celebrate our wonderful star-spangled man's birthday!!
my fics:
a birthday well spent [smut] sugar daddy au
birthdays aren't so bad [smut] CEO au
his little diamond doll [dark] mafia boss au
seeing his best girl on his birthday [smut, slight angst] infinity war era
the cowboy's best birthday [smut] cowboy au
what the professor wants for his birthday [smut] professor au
missing the fireworks [fluff] brother's best friend au
the best birthday present an ex-con could ask for [smut] ex-con au
everyone gets a birthday hug [fluff, slight angst] age of ultron era
every night is a rockstar's birthday [smut, dark] rockstar au
giving him a baby for his birthday [smut] dad's best friend au
fics by other writers:
The Full Birthday Experience by @stargazingfangirl18
all my fics are posted, all requests are filled and i've added the fics written by other writers that i've read/reblogged (if i haven't read yours yet, please let me know)!
thank you again to everyone who sent in requests or wrote fics—there's still some more time to write if you're so inclined 😁
i'm glad i could celebrate Steve's birthday with you all!!
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3,068
Summary: Telling Steve about your stalker opens the floodgates of emotions you’d been suppressing for months… and you’re not the only one who gets swept away by their feelings.
Warnings: AU. AI!Bot!Steve. Reader is anxious, stressed, and prone to panic, traumatized, too. Stalking and delulu behavior (not from Steve). Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Attempted sexual assault (not by Steve). Unfavorable representation of the police. Angst.
A/N: My lovelies!! I’m so excited to share AI!Steve’s next part with you all. I know quite a few of you really love him, so enjoy! ❤️
P.S. This part is a direct continuation of where we left off in their first part, so be sure to read that if you haven’t already.
Superior AI Masterlist
“I met him at the local farmer’s market back home,” you started, your voice quavering as you allowed your frazzled mind to return to that day.
The day that had seemed so insignificant at the time but wound up changing the course of your life forever.
The day that you wished with everything inside of you that you could go back and completely erase from your experience.
“He seemed so nice and sweet…” you trembled, your voice going distant as you remembered…
“I dunno,” you hesitated, gnawing on your lower lip as you eyed the small plant. It really was so cute and would be the perfect pop of color on your new entryway table, but… “I’m so terrible with plants,” you confessed, your guilty gaze flickering up to the man who ran the plant and flower booth.
His smile was soft–his bright blue eyes twinkling in amusement–as he ducked his head to meet your gaze more fully. “I promise this plant is practically unkillable. And I can give you a little card with easy, detailed instructions to help you care for it.”
You sighed, your fingers gently touching the healthy, vibrant leaves of the plant. It really was calling to you for some reason. “Okay…” your eyes caught the man’s, and you frowned playfully. “But if I kill this thing, its blood is on your hands.”
He laughed, and it lit up his entire face, which only grew more handsome in his delight. You felt your belly swoop at the sight, at the way he was watching you with a spark of interest you hadn’t had directed your way in a long time.
“I’m Cole, Turner,” he introduced himself, holding out his big, rough hand for a shake.
You didn’t hesitate to slip your hand into his, noticing the way he cradled it more than shook it, the way his touch lingered longer than necessary.
“And I’d happily get blood on my hands for you,” he grinned, then froze, his eyes going wide as he registered his own words.
There was a beat of silence as you both stared at each other, and then Cole grimaced as he let your hand slip from his.
“Sorry, that sounded more suave and less serial killer-y in my head,” he cringed, broad shoulders hiking up to his ears.
You laughed, utterly charmed by this sweet, handsome stranger. “Noted,” you murmured in amusement, watching the way Cole’s cheeks glowed pink as he started to gently package your plant for the car ride home.
You took a shaky breath as you hugged yourself tightly, feeling a chill dance along your spine as you thought of Cole, of the fact that you had been genuinely interested in him, and so happy he seemed to feel the same way.
You glanced over at Steve to find him watching you with this look of sympathetic concern. His eyes were so soft and earnest as they met yours, that you had to remind yourself that he was a robot and not an actual person.
“You couldn’t have known the way things would turn out,” he assured you.
“No,” you shook your head slowly. “I really couldn’t have. Cole was so lovely at first. Always had new plants set aside for me at the market, always checking in on the ones I had previously bought. It only took a few visits before he asked me out, and I was happy about it,” your voice broke as tears began to flood your vision. “I had no idea what I was getting myself into…”
The longer you sat across the dinner table from Cole, the more uneasy you grew. There was this intensity to him tonight, an almost manic gleam in his eyes as he leaned in close and rambled about finally settling down, how relieved his parents would be, how he couldn’t wait to have children, how the farm was the perfect place to raise a family…
“Wow,” you couldn’t help but blurt, laughing uncomfortably as you glanced away. “You really know what you want, huh?”
“I do,” Cole hummed, and when your gaze hesitantly returned to him, it was to find him watching you in this way that made all of your hair stand on end.
In that moment, as a chill skittered its way up your spine, you felt like prey, and it was nowhere near as sexy as the dark romances you read made it out to be.
Instead of thrilled or flattered, you felt sick. You felt dread the longer Cole stared at you, and disappointment, too, because you had been so excited for this date.
“So, how many kids do you want?” Cole asked, reaching for his wine glass and taking a drink.
“Well,” you laughed awkwardly, fiddling with the napkin spread across your lap. “I never actually said I wanted kids, so…”
“Oh you were definitely meant to be a mother,” Cole scoffed, a knowing smile tilting his lips as his eyes slowly trailed over you, making your skin crawl. “I can already see it now. One baby perched on your hip and another growing in your belly. You’d be so beautiful pregnant, glowing.”
This time, you were the one reaching for your wine glass, taking a deep gulp as you discreetly glanced at your watch, praying for dinner to be served so you could get the hell out of here.
Once you were finally home a couple of hours later, you still felt icky at the way Cole had tried to kiss you goodnight and seemed very disappointed when you’d evaded him and gone in for a quick, fleeting hug instead.
You waited a while, until you were sure he was home, before texting him to thank him for dinner but also let him know that it wasn’t going to work between the two of you.
The deluge was instant.
One text after another flooding the chat thread you had with Cole. Asking why. Refuting your shutdown. Telling you he knew the two of you were meant to be together. That he had never felt this way about anyone.
Then he tried to call you. Repeatedly. Your phone blew up until you finally blocked him with trembling fingers, feeling beyond anxious and strangely scared before turning your phone off entirely and trying to wind down for bed.
“I thought that would be the end of it, you know?” you whispered, gaze distant and fixed on the fireplace as you twisted your fingers in your lap. “I didn’t dare return to the farmer’s market, I avoided it instead. But it only took a couple of weeks before it started to feel like I was being watched any time I left my home. Then Cole confirmed my suspicions by cornering me one day after work…and I never told him what I did or where I worked…”
“Cole?!” your voice was pitched high–unnaturally so–your panic bleeding into your tone as Cole pressed you up against the driver’s side door of your car. “What…how…”
“You can’t just avoid me forever!” he huffed, gripping your shoulders hard enough to bruise and make you squeak in pain. “Sorry,” he relented his harsh touch immediately, but kept his hands on you, his fingers petting instead of gripping now as you squirmed and tried to recoil. “Look, I just… I can’t stop thinking about you, and I just know if you gave me another chance–”
“Cole, you’re at my work right now,” you said firmly despite your voice shaking, despite your terror. “How did you even know where to find me?”
He looked away, jaw clenched as he remained silent.
“Please, you need to go,” you trembled.
“No!” he shook his head, eyes blazing as they returned to you. He took a breath, deflating a little at the look of sheer terror on your face. “Please, sweetheart, I’m sorry for scaring you, I just… I need you.”
“We hardly know each other.”
“When you know, you know, and I know, with everything inside of me, that you’re it for me. You’re all I want, please…”
You squealed and jerked away as Cole leaned in and tried to kiss you.
It was instant the way his eyes flashed with displeasure, with malice.
“Don’t do that,” he snarled, his fingers digging into your arms as he shoved you back against your car with enough force to make you whimper. He opened his mouth again, but before he could speak, one of your colleagues was calling your name from across the parking lot, sounding concerned.
It was enough to have Cole cursing under his breath before turning on his heel and racing from the parking lot, leaving you weak from fear as your coworker rushed over and asked if you wanted them to call the police.
“But I didn’t want to get Cole in trouble, I didn’t want to make this a big thing, you know?” You sniffled, batting away a stray tear. “I just wanted him to leave me alone.”
“But he didn’t?” Steve guessed, a tic popping in his jaw as you slowly shook your head.
Curling into the corner of the sofa, you whispered, “No, he didn’t…”
You weren’t sure what woke you up, but you startled awake nonetheless, feeling the furthest thing from well rested, as your sleep quality had deteriorated over the past few months due to everything happening with Cole.
Just as you thought his name, you realized that he was standing over you.
That it wasn’t just another nightmare or night terror, that Cole Turner was in your bedroom right now–naked, his bare chest heaving as he stroked his cock slowly and shushed your terrified whimper.
“Shhh, don’t scream–” he started as you opened your mouth to do just that. He cursed, lunging at you, pressing the hand he had been using to touch himself over your mouth to muffle your cry for help.
You struggled wildly beneath him, something about feeling the weight and warmth of him–his bare skin, his wiry chest hair–it made you feel sick, but it also made you feel angry.
So you slapped at him, clawed at him, continuing to shriek against his damp palm as he tried to subdue you.
“Shh shh shh, it’s okay! Baby, please, just let me show you how good we can be together,” he groaned as all your writhing and twisting had his hard cock getting trapped against the blankets bunched at your stomach. “Fuck, I know you’re gonna feel so good, cause you were made for me–”
Cole’s words morphed into a pained cry as you bit his palm hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to have him jerking away from you as he cradled his hand and stared at you with wide eyes.
Then you opened your mouth and screamed for all you were worth.
You didn’t stop screaming when Cole scrambled out of the bedroom window he had left open, and onto the fire escape. You didn’t stop screaming when your neighbor pounded on your front door asking if you were okay, or when you heard the police sirens in the distance growing closer.
You didn’t stop screaming until your voice finally gave out. You sank back against your headboard, sobbing and shaking, feeling like you were going to be sick as adrenaline surged through your body, mixing with the fear and disgust rioting within your very bones.
“But they didn’t believe me, the cops,” you explained. “Not when it was all said and done.”
At the sound of displeasure–of offense–that Steve made, your tear-filled eyes finally focused and returned to him.
“Cole’s parents gave him a fake alibi, and the cops boiled it down to it was dark and I was hysterical because I’d been stressed and suffering from insomnia. They had no proof, it was my word against his, and…” you shrugged, more tears spilling over as you whispered, “They did nothing. So I moved here and left everything behind–my whole life, my career, my friends and family. Everything.”
You shook your head in disbelief that this was now your life–your unwanted reality.
“What else was I supposed to do? I knew he wouldn’t stop. He won’t stop,” your face crumpled as you dropped your head into your hands, feeling panic rise within you as you thought of Cole, of how relentless he had been, of the fact that he was still out there. “He’ll never stop.”
Steve was crouching before you in a heartbeat, holding out the box of tissues from the side table, looking hesitant and so concerned as he touched his free hand to your knee and gave it a squeeze.
You shuddered at the soft touch, realizing that you hadn’t been touched by another since that night with Cole. But this was so different–Steve’s touch made you feel safe and cared for.
Which, for some reason, only made you cry harder.
“I will keep you safe,” Steve promised. “It’s my number one objective, my sole mission. The whole reason why I exist is to protect you.”
It took a moment for Steve’s words to sink in, for you to realize that you weren’t alone in this anymore, that you had support now.
That you had Steve.
“I-I’ve been so scared and alone,” you cried. “They didn’t b-believe me! How could they not believe me?”
“I believe you,” Steve’s voice was soft, but his words were firm. “I will always believe you.”
“What if he finds me? What if I have to spend the rest of my life running and hiding from him?”
Steve shook his head, not one solitary doubt flickering across his painfully handsome face as he assured you, “I won’t let that happen.”
There was a fierceness to Steve now–in his words, in his gaze–and for a moment, you forgot what he was, and what he wasn’t.
Because he seemed like so much more than a machine.
And maybe that’s why you were finally allowing yourself to fall apart, because you had someone else now to help you pick up the pieces, to help you hold all of this.
You were no longer all alone in the darkness, being crushed beneath an unbearable weight.
“I don’t want to live like this,” you whispered brokenly. “I’m so tired and I’m so scared and I don’t want to live like this anymore! I can’t do this anymore, I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”
You hunched over your lap as you sobbed, rocking back and forth, your body buzzing with grief and overwhelm, with absolute turmoil as you finally surrendered to all of the feelings you had been harboring and suppressing for months on end.
You were so lost to it all, that it took a few moments for you to realize that you were pressed against a warm, firm chest. That you were crying into Steve’s shoulder as he gently smoothed his hands up and down your back in soft, soothing strokes.
For some reason, the gesture of comfort only made you cry harder.
When Steve asked if he could hold you, all you could do was nod before collapsing against him entirely, letting him hold you through the tidal waves of emotion, your calm and steady anchor who, despite the maelstrom raging inside of you, made you feel safe and cared for in his tight embrace.
A little while later found you on the sofa, tucked beneath the cradle of Steve’s arm, your body pliant and tension free for the first time in weeks as you slept soundly against his chest.
Of course Steve had been briefed on your situation before being delivered to you, but seeing the toll everything had taken on you firsthand–and how vulnerable you truly were–it had Steve experiencing something unexpected.
Beyond his programmed duty to keep you safe, Steve felt this overwhelming need to protect you, to take care of you, to take away all of your pain and distress.
And it wasn’t so much his undeniable attachment to you–and how quickly it had formed–that had Steve’s brow furrowing.
It was the fact that he felt at all.
Because machines shouldn’t have emotions.
Not even top-of-the-line, meticulously designed custom AIs like him should feel.
But Steve couldn’t deny that he felt strong empathy for you, as well as a fierce desire to keep you safe. It was like a living, breathing thing clawing at him from the inside out.
And it only grew stronger as Cole Turner’s photo flickered across Steve’s vision.
He’d gone a few steps further than all of the information on your situation that Sam had already uploaded to his mainframe, running his own in-depth research on the offender as you slept. Seeing Cole for himself, and recalling how terrified and disturbed you had been as you recounted your experiences with him…
It had Steve’s vision bleeding red at the edges.
It had him feeling anger, no, fury for the first time ever.
And that unexpected, unexplainable ripple of feeling–of something more and outside of his programming–had Steve going rigid in his seat.
It had him worrying that perhaps there was a flaw in his design, in his functioning, in his ability to take care of you like you needed and deserved.
Steve’s vision flashed green as he initiated diagnostics on himself, coding now speeding across his sight, as he made a mental note to send any findings–and his concerns–to Sam once the process was complete.
But just as quickly as the thought had come to him, it was pushed aside as you shifted against him, murmuring in your sleep.
Steve’s eyes flew to you, softening as he watched you frown in your sleep.
He moved before he realized it–before his programming caught up with his actions–his hand smoothing over your head in a slow, gentle caress that immediately had you sinking against him and the line between your brows smoothing.
His touch seemed to have a mind of its own, and Steve could only watch, feeling a sense of helplessness for the first time, as his fingers traced along your face, mapping the terrain of your skin.
As he looked down at you sleeping against him and processed the way you clung to him, how your fingers curled into the front of his shirt, Steve felt something else that he knew shouldn’t be possible.
Something that should be cause for concern and reported to Sam immediately…
RIP slow burn, sorry to say. Or sorry not sorry, I can’t decide yet lolll.
—
Please take a moment to comment or reblog. It means a lot to hear from my readers after sharing a story that I put so much love into. Serial liking without engagement is the quickest way to kill my writing motivation, so please don’t do that. It only takes a moment to show a little love. Thank you 🙏🏻
I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @sirisshamelesshoelibrary and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘
Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. I also do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI platforms. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️
Oh he’s already down bad with reader, what a wonderful development!
Ugh, I want to wrap her up in the biggest hug that poor woman. Anyone who’s ever experienced even a fraction of that type of stalker behavior can sadly relate. What a nightmare she’s been living. I can’t blame her at all for uprooting and trying to start over somewhere else even if she shouldn’t have to.
And Cole…🔪👊🏻
Yeah, I think it’s a short walk to make his character this dark. Honestly I couldn’t enjoy the movie because eww, take the hint buddy. Looking forward to seeing how Steve ‘handles’ him when he has the opportunity.
Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 9,780
Summary: In the aftermath of your punishment, Andy’s treatment of you only gets worse, and it’s enough to drive you to the brink.
Warnings: Mob AU. Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Mob elements. Dark!Andy. Reference to sexual assault, degradation, and dubcon/noncon. Verbal abuse. Emotional abuse. PTSD and dissociation. Vaginal fingering. Unwanted intimacy. Non-con anal play (very slight and brief). Hints of suicidal ideation/concerns. Panic attack & hyperventilation. “Infidelity.” Lots of confused emotions. Compliance and manipulation for survival. Oral sex (m receiving). Mild violence and threats. Gun use/being shot. Death of a major character ( 🥺). Angst with the seedlings of a happy ending.
A/N: Oh my goodness!! We finally made it to the end of Made Good 😭 It’s been a wild ride, that’s for sure. Thank you for joining me for it! I hope this ending is satisfying to you all ❤️
You jumped at the clatter of cutlery, blinking the unseeing haze from your eyes as you looked up from your untouched breakfast plate and met Andy’s annoyed gaze.
“Eat,” he commanded, his harsh tone making you flinch and curl in on yourself.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling panic prickle all along your body the longer Andy’s angry gaze remained fixed on you. “I’m just–”
“Not hungry,” he mimicked the same words you’d been saying for nearly a week now. Sneering, he leaned toward you. “I don’t pay a personal chef to cook and serve you food for it to go to waste. Eat. Before I shovel it down your throat myself.”
There was a beat of silence before his next words washed over you, like a figurative slap that had you reeling.
“We both know how much you love having things shoved down your throat, I’m sure Ari would whole-heartedly agree.”
Tears burned at the back of your eyes as you hunched down further, stabbing a cloud of cold scrambled eggs with your fork before forcing yourself to eat it, despite how sick to your stomach you felt.
It was cold, and tasted like nothing to you–like sawdust in your mouth–as you choked it down and speared a red grape with your fork next. Your stomach, which had been in a constant state or revolt since that night, clenched painfully as you chewed and swallowed another mouthful of food under Andy’s unrelenting gaze.
“You live like a queen,” he sniffed, reaching for his coffee. “I provide everything you could possibly want. You should be grateful.”
After a long, tense moment of silence, your eyes flickered up to him. He was still watching you, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched and emphasizing his displeasure.
You were pretty sure he hadn’t looked at you any other way since he caught you secretly working to save your friend’s job weeks ago.
Not even on the other side of the awful punishment he put you through because of your misstep.
After that experience, you had hoped that you could at least move forward, that Andy would lighten up, let things go, but if anything, he had only gotten worse.
He was unhappy with the shift in your behaviour since that night with Curtis and Ari. He had called it out repeatedly, but as much as you tried to act “normal,” be the way he wanted you to be, you couldn’t seem to deliver.
You were a shell of your former self now. Each day, it was a struggle to even wake up and get out of bed–to merely exist–let alone present as Andy’s perfectly put together and submissive little pet.
And when he touched you…
You shuddered just thinking about it. You felt nothing but revulsion for him now, and it was so hard to pretend you felt any other way.
“Jesus Christ, are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Andy’s angry voice snapped you back to attention.
You shot him a guilty glance, hunkering down in your seat even further. Wanting to sink right to the floor, and then through it, disappear entirely so you didn’t need to endure anymore of this.
Anymore of him.
“Sorry–” you started, but he cut you off with a violent slash of his hand.
“Just, save it. You’ll make it up to me tonight,” he snarled, his words sounding like a threat as he shoved back from the dining table and stormed from the room.
Once you were sure he was gone, you set down your fork, plucking the linen napkin from your lap and draping it on top of your plate.
You released a shaky breath, slowly breathing in another, trying desperately to quell your roiling stomach and ignore the panic that was clawing at you insistently and without relent.
When the bedroom door opened later that night, you tried to keep your breathing even as you laid curled on your side in bed, your back to the door as you feigned sleep.
So far, this method had only worked once to get you out of sex with Andy since your punishment, but still, you had to at least try.
Even if Andy’s angry promise from that morning echoed in your mind. Because it was exactly the type of promise you knew he would keep.
Anything to use you. To show you how much power he had over you. To make you miserable.
Andy didn’t bother to be quiet as he moved around the room. Undressing at the end of his day, turning on his bedside lamp as he went.
You heard him move into the connected bathroom, releasing a shaky sigh of relief as the shower kicked on, and you knew that at least would buy you a few more minutes of peace.
Those few moments soon came to an end, and your skin crawled as the bed dipped behind you, and the scent of Andy’s body wash reached your nose.
A beat later, he was shifting close to you, his big body curling around yours as he spooned you from behind. His arm felt like a manacle as it wrapped around your stomach and yanked you back against him.
His breath was a humid puff against the side of your neck as he nuzzled your skin before his teeth found your earlobe and gave a harsh nip that had your breath catching and your ruse failing.
“You’d think after this morning, the last thing you’d do is play hard to get, honey,” Andy tsked as he rocked his hips against you. “That’s not gonna keep me happy.”
Because he coveted how responsive you had always been for him. How he could manipulate your body and “prove” to you over and over again how much you liked it.
But you didn’t like it anymore, not after that night.
You weren’t sure you had ever actually liked Andy’s attention or the sexual pleasure he had forced on you. You had tolerated it more than anything. You knew who he was, what he was, and what he was capable of.
Tolerating his attention–and your own repeated ruin–was just another means for survival that had its place on a very, very long list.
Andy’s hand touched the outside of your thigh, pulling you back to the present. Your heart began to pound in your chest as he slid up your sleep dress. His hand was warm and insistent against your belly, a possessive palm before his fingers dipped lower, beneath your panties, and started to touch your cunt.
Tears pricked your eyes, and you squeezed them shut against the burning onslaught. You tried to remember to breathe as Andy’s hips rocked against you more insistently, the hardness of his cock catching between your ass cheeks and making him groan.
You had done this so many times before - surrendered to him. It was the smartest thing to do, the easiest.
Just give him what he wants, you urged yourself, but your heart was hammering unnaturally hard and fast now. You couldn’t control it–or your body’s response–as panic consumed you entirely with each passing second, with each invasive touch. You turned and buried your face against your pillow as Andy’s fingers began to prod at your dry entrance.
“Can’t believe you’re still shy after all the ways I’ve fucking ruined you,” Andy teased.
A moment later, his touch against your cunt stilled and he huffed in irritation at your body’s refusal to get wet for him.
The way you weren’t responding to him–or giving into him–at all.
“Maybe you need something else tonight, huh?” he gritted, threat lacing his voice.
This time, Andy’s touch was more rough as he tore off your underwear and tossed them aside. He shoved his hand between your legs from behind, his fingers dancing up until they reached your rosebud and pressed against the spot that he hadn’t touched since that night in the VIP room, when he had you bent over the pool table as Curtis and Ari watched your ultimate–and painful–defilement.
The sob tore free from your chest before you could suppress it. You tried to roll away from him, but Andy only held you tighter, shoving you onto your stomach.
“Shhh, no need for the theatrics, honey, I can make it good for you this time,” Andy cooed. He stuck his fingers in his mouth to get them wet before tugging your ass cheeks apart and circling your rim.
You cried harder, your entire body seizing up as you clawed at the bed and tried to buck Andy off of you. All you could think of was that night, how much it had hurt, how horrible it had been, how dirty you had felt after and ever since. How it had broken you–in a way you didn’t know you could be damaged–and how now you were so very, very fragile.
He couldn’t do this again.
You wouldn’t survive it. Mentally. You knew you were hanging on by a thread now, and you were terrified to think what you would be like if you endured any more of this type of abuse.
The anguished, “NO!” that tore from your lips was so inhuman, it was enough to startle Andy and still his advances. You jerked against him, rolling violently to the side, and propelling yourself right off of the bed. Your landing on the floor was hard and painful, knocking the wind from your constricted chest as you scrambled backward until your back hit the wall.
Tugging your knees to your chest, you got a glimpse of Andy’s shocked look before you were curling in on yourself and crying so hard–so hysterically–that it racked your entire body.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed after a moment of watching you cry and hyperventilate. “You’re fucking insane.”
Your mind barely registered the disgust lacing his voice, and you were too busy lost to your panic and distress to pay any further attention to Andy as he stormed from the bedroom and left you alone, at last.
Most of the next day was a blessed reprieve from Andy.
Thankfully, he had never returned to the bedroom last night, and then he’d been busy with work today, so you had slipped into your new routine of hiding away in the unused study in his manor.
It was on the complete opposite side of the sprawling property from where he spent much of his time, and it had become your new hideaway as of late.
You were there right now, curled up in the window seat that overlooked the perfectly landscaped back lawn that made you yearn to go outside–and far, far away–never step foot in this manor again.
Sighing as you realized how late it was getting, because the sun was nearly set now, you unfolded yourself from your cozy spot, quietly groaning as your body protested after being in one position for so long.
The fact that Andy hadn’t appeared or summoned you to him likely meant he was having a late work night, which you appreciated. Now, you didn’t need to pretend to enjoy dinner with him–especially after last night–before he likely swept you away to be fucked for the next couple of hours.
Instead, you could call it an early evening and hopefully not see him again until tomorrow.
You prayed for that very thing, so lost in your own thoughts and silent desperation that you didn’t notice Andy’s bodyguard manning the hallway to the master bedroom.
Which is why you were so shocked when you opened the bedroom door to find Andy fucking a beautiful blonde at the foot of the bed.
She looked far more enthusiastic than you had ever felt as she arched and keened beneath him with every forceful rut of his hips. As the smell of sex permeated the air, she moaned his name and clung to his shoulders, begging him for more, but Andy didn’t respond to her.
He only had eyes for you.
Eyes that were glittering with mean, smug triumph as he drank in your look of shock.
He grinned at you, going as far as to shoot you a wink as he continued to vigorously pound into the woman sprawled beneath him that wasn’t you.
“You mind giving us the room, honey? I haven’t quite had my fill yet, and I don’t think she has either.”
You blinked at him and then backpedaled, getting one more glimpse of Andy’s wicked grin before you pulled the bedroom door shut and quickly made your way across the manor to a spare guest room that didn’t get much use.
Closing the door behind you, you sank against it, reeling.
The very last thing you had wanted as of late was Andy’s attention–especially of the intimate variety–and yet, a whirlwind of emotions tore through you anyway at what you had just witnessed.
Among the maelstrom you felt threads of hurt and betrayal. Some jealousy as well. And it was so confusing, because you knew that Andy didn’t love you or genuinely care about you at all, especially now.
That truth was impossible to deny.
But having that truth shoved in your face with such wicked glee–with such mean intent–it just drove home the fact that you really were nothing to Andy.
And he wanted you to know it.
You had tried so hard for so long to be good, to be what he wanted, debasing yourself over and over again for his satisfaction. And stupidly, a tiny part of you had always craved just a hint of real fondness or care. It was so hard to be so vulnerable with someone day in and day out and not yearn for just a shred of genuine connection in return.
But you knew now that Andy Barber wasn’t capable of those things. He wasn’t capable of love or kindness.
Only possession and deviance and destruction.
Of violence and cruelty at a level that you never experienced until now.
For all of his faults and machinations, in the months since you had been with Andy, he had never fucked anyone else, as far as you knew at least.
But now…not only did he go there, he made sure to flaunt it, to throw it right in your face.
He was showing you that if you didn’t give him what he wanted, he could easily find it somewhere else.
He was showing you how expendable you were. How replaceable.
How easily disposable.
You swallowed hard, a whimper getting caught in your throat as you pressed a hand to the center of your chest as your heart began to pound hard enough that it was all you felt.
You were no longer naive enough to imagine that Andy would just let you walk away after everything. Not after you got a peek behind the curtain of his ruthless, mob world and how he operated.
So if you were no longer of any use to him, if he was turning his attention and desire elsewhere, but you knew he wouldn’t just let you walk away, then there was really only one way that this could end for you…
Soon, your corpse would be rotting at the bottom of the river along with your former security detail.
The terrified whine that crawled up your throat and spilled past your lips was so loud it startled you. Feeling hot tears stream down your cheeks, you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds you couldn’t seem to control as you sank to the floor and curled in on yourself.
You thought your punishment had been bad, but there was still something worse that he could do to you.
Something permanent.
Because if you were completely worthless to him now, Andy had no reason to keep you alive.
Muffling a sob, you shook your head, swallowing down your tears as you fought against the urge to spiral entirely. Doing so wouldn’t help you now.
All that would help you was to try to be as strong as you could muster and do what you needed to do to win back Andy’s favor and contentment.
You could do this. You had done it for so long already. You could pretend to be Andy’s.
You could be his good girl again.
You would be.
You had to be.
As much as you hated it, as much as it made you wilt inside and want to crawl out of your own skin…
Being Andy’s submissive little plaything was better than being dead.
Andy stepped into the dining room for breakfast and then pulled up short.
For a moment, he seemed surprised to see you sitting at the table. Even more so since you were fully dressed and made up, aiming a soft, shy smile his way.
You tried not to let your smile drop when his face twisted in suspicion, looking away as you chirped, “Good morning!” before reaching for your mug of tea and taking a sip.
“I had the chef make french toast,” you told him as you cut and dug into your own french toast, eating on your own and without any prompting despite the way it made your stomach rumble in a bad way.
“Why?” Andy drawled as he sank into his seat, his gaze still wary as he watched you.
“Because it’s your favorite,” you replied, shooting him another small smile before returning to your breakfast.
“You sure seem cheerful for someone who had another woman occupying her bed last night,” Andy goaded.
You finished chewing, trying your best to keep your face neutral and blink back your tears before lifting your gaze to his. Andy’s face was expectant, his eyes glittering with something spiteful as he eagerly awaited your response.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, you tentatively reached for his hand. “You need to do what makes you happy,” you murmured, peeking up at him from beneath your lashes in a way that you hoped conveyed contrition and not the fearful desperation you felt to smooth things over with him.
To your surprise–and confusion–Andy didn’t seem pleased by your deference. His face fell, his brow furrowing at your gentle touch and sweet understanding. He scoffed, yanking his hand away from yours and making your insides skitter with anxiety as he gave you a stony look and challenged, “Do I?”
Instantly, panic began to lap at you. Without meaning to, you had played this all wrong. It was a stray thought in the back of your mind, that he had hoped for your upset, and perhaps your jealousy, too, in the aftermath of last night.
But it was too late to pivot now, and you needed to make up with Andy.
Your life literally depended on it.
So you kept your gaze down, curling in on yourself to appear as vulnerable and unsure as possible–genuinely feeling both of those things, too–as you rose from your seat. Moving closer, you loomed over Andy for a beat.
“Please,” you quavered, the tears in your voice real–but not for the reason Andy assumed–as you clenched your hands before you and shifted your weight. “Andy, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll be better, I promise. I’ll be good.”
Andy hmphed at that as he finished chewing his food before swallowing. He dabbed at his lips with his napkin before dropping it beside his plate and shifting his gaze to you.
The distrust in his eyes was clear as day, but you tried your best not to falter as you met his gaze head on, your own eyes full of silent pleading.
After a long, drawn out moment of making you squirm, Andy tutted, his tone sly and a new sparkle coming to his eyes as he asked, “You really wanna make it up to me?”
You nodded eagerly and without hesitation, feeling your belly swoop in relief at the way satisfaction flickered in Andy’s eyes as his rigid posture eased ever so slightly.
He shoved his seat back from the dining table, spreading his legs like the king that he thought he was before nodding toward the floor, “Then show me. Show me how much you wanna be my good girl, how much you wanna make me happy.”
Your stomach flipped unpleasantly, but you ignored it as you swiftly moved closer and sank to your knees between Andy’s feet. You peeked up at him from beneath your lashes as you hesitantly reached for the front of his flannel pajama pants, feeling both grateful and disgusted by the way you could see his cock twitch through his pants at the promise of your touch.
Andy’s gaze was fixed on you, his pupils growing fat and black with lust as he watched you retrieve his cock and shimmy closer. “Yeah, that’s it, you greedy little slut,” he groaned as you gripped his length and slowly stroked him to full mast. “Gotta reclaim what’s yours now, huh?”
Another wave of disgust washed over you, making bile burn at the back of your throat but you tried your best to block it out, humming a soft, “Mmhmm” before you leaned in and lapped at the head of Andy’s cock to distract him.
He hissed as you suckled at his sensitive tip, his head falling back as your wrist twisted on your upstroke. When you gently cupped his balls with your free hand as you parted your lips and slowly drew him into your mouth, Andy moaned loudly, his hand shooting out to cradle the back of your head and push you down on his cock as far as you could take him.
Your body heaved momentarily as you gagged at the sudden, painful intrusion, tasting the salty brine of Andy’s pre-cum at the back of your throat before you regained your bearings and started to bob over his lap.
It took everything you had to focus on the task at hand as clinically as you could instead of giving in to your revulsion and the overwhelming self-loathing that was rising up within you.
You need to do this, you need to do this, you repeated over and over again in your head.
You weren’t tonguing along that pronounced vein on the underside of Andy’s cock because you wanted to, you did it because you knew it drove him wild, and it did. He rutted up into your mouth with a gravelly groan.
“Yeah, that’s it, honey,” he panted, moaning some more as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked for all you were worth. “Fucccck.”
By the time he was pumping your throat full of his cum, his touch on your cheeks to hold your face in place was the gentlest it had been in weeks. When he collapsed back in his seat, completely spent, his face was flushed and his eyes were bright and a little dazed as they watched you.
You kept your gaze down–timid–as you cleaned his softening cock with faux reverence, even going as far as pressing a soft kiss to his tip and earning a groan and involuntary rut of his hips for your effort.
Carefully, you tucked Andy’s cock away before sinking back on your heels. Ignoring the way your stomach curdled, you rested your warm cheek against his thigh in total supplication, finally allowing your eyes to flicker up to meet his.
There was still a hint of wariness in Andy’s gaze–a lingering gleam of distrust–but they were both overshadowed by the smug victory that was aimed your way.
“Well, that was certainly a good start to making it up to me, honey,” Andy purred, a slow, sated smile curling his lips.
When his hand lifted to gently pet your head, you leaned into it, feeling a staggering sense of relief that your efforts had worked, even if they made you feel like a faithful, degraded little pet that you didn’t want to be.
You were a week into your bid to try to win back Andy’s trust and favor as a means to survive.
And he certainly wasn’t making it easy.
Despite the way you gave in to him at every turn, in any way that he wanted to show your complete and utter submission to him, there was still an air of him trying to punish you.
He was relentless in his poking and prodding of you, in little ways, to test your devotion to him, your genuine desire to get back in his good graces and make it all up to him.
You’d sucked his cock more in the past week than in the last few months combined.
Your body hurt from all the various and rigorous ways he had taken you.
Each night, he’d kept you perched on his lap at the club while he openly and shamelessly flirted with other women like you weren’t even there.
It was exhausting.
You were so, so tired.
So wrung dry of any semblance of who you used to be, and any bit of hope that things would ever actually be better.
You were so desperate to stay alive–so terrified that Andy would have you killed–but most days, a quiet voice in the back of your mind kept asking if it was really worth it.
Was this really the life that you wanted to live?
You sniffled back a few tears as you rested your forehead against the cool glass of the window.
You were hiding away in your new favorite study, curled up in the window seat as you watched the sun peek in and out of the clouds outside, while you yourself sat inside, feeling captive in a life you didn’t want and longing to be free.
Suddenly the door to the study swung open, and you startled, straightening and twisting in your seat as Andy burst in with two familiar figures trailing him.
Your breath caught, and you swore your heart actually stopped, as Curtis and Ari sauntered into view.
You tried so hard to keep the terror from your face, but your body was frozen in shock and consumed with dread and horror as Andy’s malicious, expectant gaze met yours.
“I couldn’t let our guests leave after our business meeting before getting a chance to say hello,” he drawled, watching you closely, like he simply couldn’t wait to see how you’d react.
You didn’t understand why he was doing this to you.
You had been trying so hard to make things right, to make him happy. You had been bending over backwards to submit to him, to keep him content, to be what he wanted you to be.
Your entire existence was Andy, Andy, Andy, and yet here he was, poking at you again–trying so hard to get a reaction out of you, to drive you over the edge–and in the cruelest way possible.
“Well, don’t be rude, honey, come say hello,” Andy huffed, snapping his fingers at you.
“I kind of like her gaping fish look,” Curtis mocked. “Seems like an invitation I wouldn’t mind accepting, seeing as I didn’t get a chance to fill that pretty throat last time.”
You sealed your lips shut against a whimper, slowly hedging closer and allowing Andy to wrap his arm around you and tug you against his side.
Try as you might to keep your tear-blurred gaze away from them, you couldn’t help but glance between Curtis and Ari, part of you still unable to comprehend that they were actually here, right before you, in your own home.
Curtis’ smirk was as mean as you remember, Ari’s gaze heated and slow as it took inventory of your trembling body. He even bit his bottom lip and shot you a wink before you choked on an inhale you couldn’t quite complete and curled even closer to Andy in your terror, despite him being the bearer of your misery.
Your head was buzzing so loudly that you couldn’t absorb a word that was exchanged between the three of them. A cold sweat was breaking out across your skin, your heart pounding so hard in your chest that you were convinced it would explode any second now.
And you tried so hard to endure it all.
But seeing them here, their scents enveloping you, their gazes unrelenting, you felt your stomach churn, feeling violated all over again.
“I’m sorry, excuse me–” was all you were able to manage before you were darting past Curtis and Ari, out of the study, and down the hall to the nearest bathroom.
You barely made it to the toilet and got the lid up before you were collapsing to your knees, curling over the porcelain bowl, and heaving hard. Your body didn’t stop heaving and shuddering for what felt like an eternity, until all of the contents of your stomach were now filling the toilet instead.
Weak and trembling, you sank to the cold, marble floor, curling up in a ball as you shivered and your ears rang as panic continued to rack your body.
Memories from that night in the VIP room flooded your mind, and you started to cry as you hugged yourself tight and pressed your sweaty cheek to the floor, trying desperately to fight the onslaught of the moments in your life you wanted to forget most.
That was how Andy found you a moment later when he stepped into the bathroom without knocking. His long sigh of annoyance had you flinching and your panic renewing, as his perfectly shined dress shoe stepped into your vision, just inches away from your face.
He crouched over you and was quiet for a long moment, and then he tutted, “That was very rude and disappointing, honey. You embarrassed me in front of our guests.”
“I’m…sorry,” you wheezed. You were barely able to speak, vomit still staining your tongue as you whined at the painful clench of your stomach at the acidic taste.
“You will be,” Andy promised, making your blood run cold with dread before he was rising up over you, stepping away, and leaving you alone in the bathroom.
You weren’t sure how long you laid there on the floor, but eventually, you were able to weakly pull yourself to your feet. You flushed the toilet before stumbling from the bathroom, pausing long enough in the hall to make sure you didn’t hear any evidence that Andy and his guests were still here.
Then you staggered to the master bedroom slowly, locking yourself away and stumbling into the bathroom to shower.
To try to get clean.
But no matter how long or hard you scrubbed–until your poor skin was raw and screaming in protest–you still felt dirty. You still felt sick.
You sobbed as you sank against the cold shower wall, pressing your forehead to the wet tile as you tried to muffle your cries.
You didn’t understand.
You didn’t understand why Andy was so cruel to you.
You were trying so hard. Your entire existence was catering to Andy, to his every want and need. Every second of every day was filled with the desire–the desperation–to be good for him. You had given him everything. All of you.
And it still wasn’t enough.
You weren’t enough.
You had nothing left.
Nothing and no one.
That’s not true, there is someone, that quiet voice whispered in the back of your mind.
It took a moment for you to understand, your cries dying down once realization struck. And then a tiny, tiny spark of hope flared to life inside of you.
Your crying gave way to sniffles now as you turned off the shower and weakly wrapped a towel around your still shaking frame. You used the wall for support to make your way out of the bathroom, your knees barely able to hold your weight as exhaustion blanketed you in a way you had never felt before.
You circled the bed to where your phone was charging on the far nightstand, sinking down on the edge of the mattress before reaching for it.
Nearly blinded by your tears, you opened the Phone app and tapped out the number you had memorized. You knew it would be stupid to program the new contact in your phone or keep the business card that had been so freely given to you, along with a genuine offer of help if you ever needed it.
And now it felt like you really, really needed it.
You hesitated for the briefest moment before tapping the green icon to send the call, because at this point, what did you really have to lose?
Taking a breath, you lifted your phone to your ear and waited.
A familiar voice answered after only one ring, and you felt something in your chest ease at the sound of it before you tearfully trembled out, “Jake? Please, I need your help.”
“All your sweet little apologies and promises to be good, and yet here we are.”
You hugged yourself tightly as you stood in the foyer the next afternoon, just off to the side as Andy checked his reflection in the large mirror on the wall adjacent to the front door.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your apology sounding weak, even to your own ears. “I must have come down with a stomach bug or something.”
“Or something,” he scoffed, straightening his tie before buttoning his dark suit jacket.
Finally, he turned away from the mirror and stalked over to you. He seemed pleased as you sank back against the wall and quickly dropped your gaze to the floor in deference.
You tried not to recoil when he touched a finger beneath your chin and tipped your face up. His eyes were so hard as they bored into you before flickering over your tired, drawn features.
“You look like shit.”
This time you couldn’t suppress your flinch at his insult. “I know. I told you, I don’t feel well.”
“You embarrassed me yesterday in front of my business associates, and now you’re begging off from the club again,” he gritted, giving your chin a painful squeeze that made you mewl before retracting his touch. “You better rest up tonight, honey, because you and I are gonna have a talk tomorrow that you’re not gonna enjoy.”
You shuddered as a chill raced up your spine, nodding in acknowledgement like you knew Andy expected. You could feel his gaze that you couldn’t meet linger on you for a beat before he finally stepped away.
“But don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone else to keep me company while I’m at the club tonight,” he sniffed derisively.
You hugged yourself tighter as you watched him sweep out of the manor without a glance back at you, his two bodyguards hot on his heels as the large front door shut and separated you from your greatest tormenter.
Hedging closer to the door, you peeked out of the side pane of glass, watching as Andy’s SUV pulled away and started its descent down the long driveway. You waited until it was completely out of sight before turning and slowly making your way back upstairs, itching to move faster but acutely aware of your own bodyguard trailing at a distance.
You kept your gait slow, leaning heavily on the wall, like you were as sick and weak as you felt yesterday. Once you closed yourself in your favorite study–blessedly alone at last–you straightened, quickly darting across the room to the large executive desk that sat before the doors leading out to the stone balcony beyond.
You shoved the desk chair out of the way, pulling out your packed bag that you had stashed there hours ago when your security detail was distracted with giving their mid-day report.
Unzipping your bag, you pulled out the simple jeans and sweater that lay on top, your favorite sneakers that you hadn’t worn in months, too, and quickly got changed. Your heart was beating a frantic staccato in your chest the entire time, because it was like in this small, likely stupid way, you were reclaiming just a tiny part of your former self.
And you had missed her so much.
Once you were dressed, your gaze fell to the tracker bracelet that hung on your wrist like an ever-present manacle keeping you from freedom. You knew it was the only reason your security detail gave you a modicum of space and privacy, since they could always see and confirm where you were. You unclasped the bracelet and dropped it onto the desk, your eyes tearing up at yet another small act of defiance.
Of reclaiming yourself, no matter the cost.
As you reached for your phone that peeked out from your unzipped bag, you hesitated, a sudden thought striking you. Nerves flooded your belly with anxiety as you bent over, your hand blindly feeling beneath the underside of the desk. If your assumption was correct…
It was.
You felt the cool metal of the hidden handgun that was tucked away out of sight, just like all the other hidden guns beneath all the other desks throughout this horrid manor. You struggled to tug it from its holder, the weight of it surprising you as you cradled the gun in your hands.
Feeling a little sick–and scared–because you had never held a gun before, you knew it was probably a necessity at this point, so you carefully tucked the gun into the band of your jeans, so it sat heavily at the small of your back.
You finally reached for your phone then, pulling up your Messages app. You typed in Jake’s number and sent him a simple thumb up emoji to let him know that you were ready and clear of Andy and your security detail.
You knew using your phone was likely a risk, but it wouldn’t matter now. You had made your choice, and what was done was done.
There was no going back now.
Tossing your phone down on the desk beside the bracelet, you quickly zipped up your bag and pulled it onto your shoulder. You hadn’t packed much, just the necessities, and only items that were yours. You didn’t want to take anything Andy had given you, and since he never liked you in your old clothes and “looking so cheap,” the bag you now held was basically the same bag you had arrived here with all those months ago when Andy first took over you and your life.
As your eyes anxiously swept the study to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything, there was a light tapping on the balcony door.
Your heart leapt into your throat as you spun around, feeling relief blanket you as you saw Jake standing on the other side of the glass doors, a small smile curling his lips as he gave you a wave.
You didn’t realize it until that moment, but up until now, you had harbored some doubt that Jake would actually come through for you. You didn’t know him well, and you had met him through Andy, so it lingered in the back of your mind once you finished your call with him yesterday - that maybe this was all just another set up by Andy, another test for you to fail so he could hurt you in retaliation.
But as Jake stood before you, looking truly concerned–as well as sad for you–you knew that that wasn’t the case at all.
This was real.
It was actually happening.
You were going to escape Andy once and for all.
You hurried to the door and flipped the lock, sliding it open. Warmth flooded your face at how truly shocked you sounded as you dumbly said, “You came.”
Jake’s handsome features softened as he dipped his head and met your frightened gaze head on. “Of course I did. You asked for my help.” A sheepish look overtook him then, and he straightened, glancing over his shoulder as he rubbed at the back of his neck before his gaze met yours once more. “But I kinda had to knock out the two guards stationed outside, so we should probably hurry before they wake up and sound the alarm or whatever.”
“This is really happening,” you quavered, suddenly overcome by emotion. Before you could stop yourself, you darted forward and hugged Jake for all you were worth. “Thank you, Jake. Thank you so much.”
He returned your embrace immediately, his big hand gently rubbing your back as he murmured, “Hey, it’s okay, and you’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it. I can set you up with a new identity, get you far away, anywhere you want to go—“
“That’s a bold promise you won’t be able to keep, you fucking rat,” Andy’s voice seethed from behind you.
The horror that washed over you was unlike anything you had ever felt before, and it was made all the worse by the way Jake went absolutely rigid against you and hissed a quiet, “Shit.”
Slowly, you pulled away from him, your insides twisting and pulling until you swore you were gonna be sick, but you swallowed against the internal uprising as you turned and met Andy’s furious gaze.
A mean laugh spilled from his lips at your look of utter disbelief. “Do you really think I wouldn’t have you under lock and key in every way possible?” he sneered at you. “It wasn’t just the bracelet, I’ve been mirroring your phone since this all started, and began tapping it after you lied to me. That’s what it means to be mine. It means you don’t do anything or speak to anyone without my knowledge or fucking permission.”
“Andy, please,” you wobbled. “You don’t even want me. Just, let me go. Please. You’ll never see me again. It will be better for both of us.”
“You don’t get to leave me, period. What part of ‘you’re mine’ do you not understand?”
“You don’t deserve her,” Jake spoke from behind you, his voice firm and unwavering as he stared Andy down.
He touched your shoulder then, just a warm, gentle pressure to give you courage, to let you know that he was there and you weren’t alone in this.
Not anymore.
Andy scoffed, his irate gaze shifting from you to Jake. He zeroed in on Jake’s hand on your shoulder, a tic popping in his cheek as he slowly took a step closer and taunted, “And you think you do?”
He lunged forward, reaching for you, but Jake somehow managed to sweep you to the side and out of the way without hurting you before cocking his fist back and punching Andy in the face.
Andy grunted, stumbling backward. He didn’t go down though, he straightened much quicker than you wanted or expected as he wiped some blood from his bleeding nose before snarling and launching himself at Jake.
The two men tussled, Andy getting his own punch in before kneeing Jake in the stomach and throwing him to the floor. He turned toward the fireplace behind him and reached for the metal poker that looked more like a deadly weapon than an innocuous home accessory.
“Jake!” you warned, watching in terror as Andy advanced on him.
He gripped the poker with both hands and raised it over his head before bringing it down on Jake’s back, and you whimpered as you watched him crumple to the floor with a groan.
“You think you can fucking waltz into my home and take what’s mine?” Andy panted, using his foot to kick Jake in the stomach and flip him onto his back. He shifted his hold on the fire poker, gripping it like a sword now as he aimed it over the center of Jake’s chest.
You were moving before your brain comprehended your body’s destination, jumping onto Andy’s back and clawing at his face with your hands. He hissed at your unexpected assault, staggering with the force of it and dropping the fire poker as he whirled on you.
He backhanded you hard enough to send you to your knees, your vision swimming and your cheek feeling like it was on fire. You grunted as Andy grabbed you, wheezing as he shifted his grip so his hand was on your throat and squeezing hard.
“You fucking cunt,” he breathed, giving you a shake. “After everything I’ve done for you?”
“You mean everything you did to me!” you screeched, digging your nails into his hand to try to get him to loosen his grip. “You hurt me and used me. Betrayed me and broke me,” you were crying now as you told him, “I hate you. You’re disgusting! You make me sick and I hate you!”
Andy’s grip eased, his lips curling into a wolfish smile before he was laughing, genuinely laughing, as he yanked you close. Dark amusement glittered in his gaze as he murmured, “I had no idea you had all this fire in you, honey. We’re gonna put all of this bad girl energy to good use.” He leaned in and bit hard at your bottom lip, making you whine and try to shove him away. “First I just need to take out the trash.”
Shoving you so you stumbled back a few steps, Andy turned and pulled a gun from the holster beneath his suit jacket. He advanced on Jake, who was finally in a seated position at least, looking dazed as he sat on the floor and blood leaked from a cut at his hairline.
“Don’t!” You screamed, staggering toward Andy as you reached for the gun at your back. You yanked it from your jeans, clumsily gripping it between your hands and fumbling with the safety. “Drop it, Andy! I mean it. Or I’ll—“
He turned, eyebrows shooting up as he spied your own weapon, but he didn’t look concerned in the least. Instead, he smirked at you, once again amused by your show of bravado, “You’ll what? Shoot me?”
You hesitated, feeling your eyes well with tears and your stomach churn at the thought of doing just that.
You had never hurt anyone in your life, and you had never wanted to, not even now.
You just wanted to go, you just wanted to leave and never come back.
“Please,” you whispered as you met Andy’s gaze. “I just want to leave. That’s all. I just want to be free.”
“You will never be free from me,” Andy enunciated slowly, taking a step closer, and then another. “You think you can just up and leave me? That Jensen will keep you safe? You know who I am. What I’m capable of. I will track you down and I will find you,” he promised in a way that had your blood feeling like ice in your veins. “If you think your last punishment was bad, ohhhh, honey, you just fucking wait. I’ll even keep Jensen alive long enough so he can watch this time.”
You trembled at the very thought, the gun visibly shaking in your grip as you adjusted your sweaty hold on it. Taking a step back as Andy took another forward, you told him, “Stop it. Stay back!”
“Make me,” Andy taunted.
He moved closer, grinning as you adjusted your aim to keep it at the center of his chest. His head cocked to the side and he watched you in a way he did sometimes, that made you feel so small. Like you were no more than the dirt beneath his shoe.
Like you were nothing.
And you knew that’s what you really were to him.
You were nothing to Andy Barber.
“We both know you won’t shoot me,” he drawled, advancing another step. “You can’t. You don’t have it in you. You’re far too weak and pathetic for that, sweetheart, and we both know it.”
You flinched at his words, shame flooding you as a few tears finally spilled over and your lower lip wobbled with distress.
“You’re a good girl,” Andy said, like it was the most demeaning thing in the world, and you knew that in his eyes, it was. “You’re my good girl, and you always will be—“
For once in the entire time that you had known him, you cut Andy off and spoke over him.
“I am done being your good girl.”
Then you pulled the trigger.
Andy jerked as the bullet hit him in the chest, his mouth hanging open as he stared down at the dark spot quickly growing at the front of his shirt. Slowly, he raised his head, his wild gaze locking on you and his lips pulled back into a snarl as he lunged at you.
Whimpering, you shot him again, and again, and again. You didn’t stop pulling the trigger until the gun clicked uselessly in your trembling hands, the barrel empty as Jake appeared at your side and gently eased the weapon from your grip.
“Hey, we gotta go now,” he spoke softly–urgently–as he glanced between your wide, tearful gaze and Andy’s prone body laying on the floor.
You didn’t reply, you couldn’t, unable to stop yourself from moving closer to Andy. Your entire body felt numb as you stood over his unmoving form, watching as he just laid there in a growing pool of his own blood, his unseeing eyes staring up at the ceiling, still wide with the shock of your actions.
Of your ultimate–and final–act of defiance.
Jake said your name, stepping in front of you and blocking the sight of Andy’s dead body from your horrified gaze. “We need to go now, okay?”
It was the way he hesitantly touched you, cradling your face between his hands and aiming your dazed eyes at his that snapped you from your stupor.
“Okay,” you breathed, giving a shaky nod.
Nodding back at you, Jake took your hand in his, grabbed your bag with the other, and quickly led you out onto the balcony, and out of Andy’s manor, for good.
You drove with Jake for hours and hours, and he had only made one quick detour along the way.
You had sat in the car as he pulled over on the bridge out of town, wiping down the gun you had used to kill Andy before throwing it into the river.
Amidst all of your swirling thoughts and emotions–your shock being at the forefront of it all–in that moment, you had still thought it poetic in a sense, that the river now housed your own dirty little secret along with all of Andy’s.
Now you were far away from the river and the bridge, in a small cabin tucked away deep in the woods of you didn’t even know where.
All you knew was that Jake promised that no one would find you here, and that you could lay low for a few days and figure out what came next.
Despite your shock and numbness, you believed him–trusted him–so you had followed him into the cabin without a second thought, grateful when Jake suggested you go shower and change and wash away the past 12 hours.
When you emerged from the shower, you found a steaming cup of tea awaiting you on the coffee table and the fireplace roaring. It casted warmth throughout the small space as Jake murmured he was going to get cleaned up and left you to your own thoughts for a bit.
When he rejoined you in the living room once he was done, Jake found you curled up beneath an old throw blanket. You were nestled into the corner of the sofa, silently crying as you stared into the fireplace, your cup of tea now cold and completely untouched.
He was quiet as he sank down beside you, unsure of what to say but not wanting you to be alone right now.
Eventually, you spoke.
Sniffling as you wiped at your nose, you whispered, “I killed him.”
Your breath caught as you said it out loud for the first time, and you pressed a hand to your chest, like it could somehow ease the anguish you felt in your heart at having committed such a heinous act.
“I killed someone. I’m a…a murderer. A terrible person. I’m just like him. Oh my god, I’m just like him,” you whimpered, hugging your knees to your chest as you started to rock back and forth.
“You’re not,” Jake replied immediately. “Hey.” He touched your back, giving it a gentle rub. “Look at me, please.” He waited until you peeked over at him to continue, “You are nothing like Andy Barber. It was self defense. He would have killed us both without hesitation. I mean, he literally tried to.”
He gestured to his face, which was now starting to bruise on one side. You looked pained as you drank in the state of him, your watery gaze lingering on the angry looking cut on his forehead that was now neatly tended to and bore a butterfly bandage.
“I’m so sorry,” you trembled as you turned to him more fully. “I'm so sorry I put you in that situation.”
“I’m not,” Jake told you firmly.
You knew he meant it too. As he watched you, his eyes so soft, his hand slipping from your back to hesitantly take your own hand and give it a squeeze.
Gratitude for this kind, caring man overwhelmed you, and you reached for him, sinking against Jake’s warm, firm body and hugging him tight as you tried not to cry against his shoulder.
When you finally pulled away, you felt even more shy than you already did as you got a glimpse of Jake’s rosy cheeks. Shifting your gaze away, you re-tucked the blanket around you, busying yourself with the small gesture to avoid a potential awkward moment.
Clearing his throat, Jake said, “So while you were in the shower, I was able to hack some of Andy’s accounts and I funneled a good chunk of his money into an untraceable account for you.”
“Oh,” your eyes went big as they snapped back to him. “That’s…really generous of you, Jake, but I’m not sure I feel comfortable using that kind of money.”
“It’s all above board, I only pulled from his legitimate assets. It’s not blood money or anything,” he assured you. “And…well, after everything I imagine you’ve gone through… you deserve it. Consider it restitution.”
Something about Jake’s words were like a punch to the gut. And you knew it was totally unintentional on his part, but it was almost as if someone else speaking aloud the horrors you had been through made them all the more real.
But they’re over now, that voice in your mind–which was louder than it had been before–told you with confidence. And you survived.
“You okay?” Jake asked, sounding concerned.
You nodded, blinking back a new wave of tears as you refocused on him. “Thank you. I’ve known you all of five minutes and you’ve shown me more kindness and care than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Jake blushed, shrugging and looking shy, and something about his reaction had your insides fluttering in a way you hadn’t felt in a really long time.
Despite his flush, when his gaze met yours, his face was determined. “Whatever you decide to do next, wherever you decide to go, I’ll make sure you’re safe. I promise.”
“It’s been a long time since someone made me a promise that was genuine and didn’t sound like a threat.”
“Well those kinds of promises, the good ones, those are the kind you deserve,” Jake said.
This time, the shy warmth filled your face, and you struggled to meet Jake’s earnest gaze. You squirmed on the receiving end of his attention, totally unused to someone actually wanting to take care of you in a real way versus wanting to own and use you.
“I don’t even know where to start with deciding on what comes next or a destination,” you confessed.
“Come on, aren’t there places you’ve always dreamed of going?” Jake smiled, leaning over and knocking his shoulder against yours. “I used to travel a lot for work but haven’t in a while, but I still know all the ins and outs and can make it a breeze. We could even pick places randomly if you want, it’ll be fun!”
“Fun?” You echoed, perking up at the foreign concept and enjoying Jake’s excited, playful energy. It was so different from what you were used to. “And…you really want to come with me? You don’t have to—“
“I want to!” Jake assured you quickly. “I mean, if that’s okay, at least for a little while to make sure you’re okay and land on your feet. It would really put my mind at ease. And like I said, I haven’t gotten to travel in a while and I have the itch, yanno? You'd totally be doing me a favor.”
“Well,” you said, lips curling as you shrugged. “I do suppose I owe you, after everything.”
Jake positively lit up at your tentative joke, laughing in a way so contagious, you couldn’t help but giggle in return as your gaze met his and lingered.
His eyes were so open and kind, not one hint of anger or deceit in their blue depths. They really were the windows to his soul, and his soul was like the human embodiment of sunshine as he watched you with a lingering smile. To be under Jake’s gentle gaze was like being warmed from the inside out, and you swore, the longer his eyes stayed on you, the more his warmth chased away the chilled emptiness that had taken up residence inside you over the months you had been trapped with Andy.
Needing, no, wanting more than just his gaze on you, you tentatively reached for Jake’s hand. Noting your intention, he offered it freely and without hesitation, watching as you pressed your palm to his and laced your fingers together before giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
As you held Jake’s big, warm hand in your own, it was like you could feel the months and months of heartache and depravity—of fear and shame—you had experienced daily slowly begin to slake away.
With each passing second that put your former life further and further behind you, you felt lighter. After everything that had happened tonight, and with Jake by your side now, you finally felt safe, too.
And for the first time in a very long time, you felt hopeful.
You felt something else, too, something that, up until now, you never thought you’d ever feel or experience again, even though it was the one thing you wished for most of all…
You felt free.
And you were.
Originally, I had kind of a mean cliffhanger planned for this lol, but you can thank @buckets-and-trees for urging me to go for the fulfilling happy ending instead. She advocated for this poor Reader and made me realize how much she (and all of you!!) deserved as close to a happily ever after as this verse can deliver.
Please let me know what you think of the ending! Thank you! ❤️
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What a tense ending to another great series! I wasn't sure how to feel in the first few chapters. Andy was presenting as soft!dark, so I was unsure if this would be a case of redemption and a couple we'd end up rooting for, or if this Reader needed a rescue team. The final trio of chapters worked so well together - the tension, the fully dark turn, and this finale.
Reactions and spoilers below the cut.
I loved that this chapter started out carrying over the emotions and atmosphere from the previous one. Her trauma, unease, and absolute revulsion are so palpable, from her inability to eat or respond to his advances, to her constant need to be alone. She can't bring herself to perform for him anymore, at least not until the fear of what would happen to her if she were replaced seeps in. Even then, the performance isn't enough for Andy.
This is definitely one of, if not the worst, dark!Andys I've read. He's so sadistic, vindictive, and cruel. His moments of softness are only on his terms and just serve to make the Reader more on edge because she knows at any moment he could turn on her. Now that she's done the unthinkable and defied him, he's determined to make her life a living hell - despite her enduring the initial punishment.
I'm not sure if he doesn't understand why she's practically catatonic after that horrific experience, or if he just doesn't care. You can't do something like that to someone and expect them to bounce back to the person they were before it happened. He wanted to break her and he succeeded, but now he can't handle the consequences.
But then, when she manages to pull herself together and try to be that girl again, he doesn't like that either and proceeds to try to goad her and torture her emotionally. The fuck, Andy?! What do you want from her?!
What did he want her reaction to be when she found him banging another woman? When he brought Curtis and Ari around?
I'm so glad she hit her limit and realized she had to at least try to leave.
It was exhausting.
You were so, so tired.
So wrung dry of any semblance of who you used to be, and any bit of hope that things would ever actually be better.
You were so desperate to stay alive–so terrified that Andy would have you killed–but most days, a quiet voice in the back of your mind kept asking if it was really worth it.
Was this really the life that you wanted to live?
No, babe, it isn't. You deserve so much better. Andy thinks it's all about the money and material possessions he chooses to bestow upon you, but those aren't worth the sacrifice of yourself and your freedom.
That’s not true, there is someone, that quiet voice whispered in the back of your mind.
It took a moment for you to understand, your cries dying down once realization struck. And then a tiny, tiny spark of hope flared to life inside of you.
When I read this, I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew she was going to take the lifeline that Jake had tossed her. Although I was worried that this was a trap. (I don't trust anyone in this story except our girl! lol)
Nearly blinded by your tears, you opened the Phone app and tapped out the number you had memorized. You knew it would be stupid to program the new contact in your phone or keep the business card that had been so freely given to you, along with a genuine offer of help if you ever needed it.
And now it felt like you really, really needed it.
You hesitated for the briefest moment before tapping the green icon to send the call, because at this point, what did you really have to lose?
Not going to lie, I was immediately worried when she used her phone to contact Jake because I KNEW Andy had some sort of spyware installed in it so he could keep tabs on her. But at this point, it's better to die trying to escape than being trapped in a fancy prison with a moody captor.
“You better rest up tonight, honey, because you and I are gonna have a talk tomorrow that you’re not gonna enjoy.”
I'm glad she chose that night to make her escape attempt, because I'm very scared of what he meant by this.
Unzipping your bag, you pulled out the simple jeans and sweater that lay on top, your favorite sneakers that you hadn’t worn in months, too, and quickly got changed. Your heart was beating a frantic staccato in your chest the entire time, because it was like in this small, likely stupid way, you were reclaiming just a tiny part of your former self.
And you had missed her so much.
She may think it's stupid, but when someone has controlled every aspect of your life down to what you wear, putting on clothes you like but that person would disapprove of is an act of reclamation.
Once you were dressed, your gaze fell to the tracker bracelet that hung on your wrist like an ever-present manacle keeping you from freedom. You knew it was the only reason your security detail gave you a modicum of space and privacy, since they could always see and confirm where you were. You unclasped the bracelet and dropped it onto the desk, your eyes tearing up at yet another small act of defiance.
Of reclaiming yourself, no matter the cost.
The way I half-expected her to smash the tracker once she took off the bracelet. I get why she didn't - instant tip off to Andy if the tracker suddenly went dark - but it would have been so satisfying!
I knew she couldn't escape without a final confrontation with Andy, but I was hopeful anyway. I was so excited when Jake showed up to get her out of there and part of me actually believed they would escape right under Andy's nose, but of course he was monitoring her phone and chose the perfect cinematic timing to make his appearance and ruin their plans.
I love that Jake proved himself by putting himself in harms way to protect her from Andy's wrath, and that he managed to get out of it alive. But this was always going to be her fight to end.
“Please,” you whispered as you met Andy’s gaze. “I just want to leave. That’s all. I just want to be free.”
“You will never be free from me,” Andy enunciated slowly, taking a step closer, and then another. “You think you can just up and leave me? That Jensen will keep you safe? You know who I am. What I’m capable of. I will track you down and I will find you,” he promised in a way that had your blood feeling like ice in your veins. “If you think your last punishment was bad, ohhhh, honey, you just fucking wait. I’ll even keep Jensen alive long enough so he can watch this time.”
I don't even want to know the evil schemes he was working up in his mind.
“You’re a good girl,” Andy said, like it was the most demeaning thing in the world, and you knew that in his eyes, it was. “You’re my good girl, and you always will be—“
For once in the entire time that you had known him, you cut Andy off and spoke over him.
“I am done being your good girl.”
Then you pulled the trigger.
Also:
But, literally, it was self-defense. He was plotting to do God knows what to her before eventually either killing her or wearing her down until she took her own life. This was her only chance at a happy ending and I'm glad she took it.
I am glad you examined the mixed emotions she would be feeling after making that choice - taking a life, even when out of absolute necessity, should not be an easy decision to make, and it is something that will sit with most people who do it for a long time. The fact that she sits and questions herself afterwards proves she's not a killer like Andy was.
Jake seems so sweet and loving - every bit the overgrown puppy the CE fandom makes him out to be. Making her tea, holding her, comforting her while she cried, and using his hacking skills for good while getting her set up with a new life. I hope they travel off into the sunset together and live happily ever after.
Side note, why do I picture Lloyd hearing of Andy's death and immediately knowing she's responsible, like:
Ahhhhh this reblog is everything!!!! You truly spoil me! I was so excited to see your thoughts and reactions. And your gif choices always make me fucking cackle 🤣💀❤️
I love that you called out the way the pace picked up in those last few chapters, because I totally felt that too. It was like once I decided how I was going to end it, it just all clicked into place and flowed!
I feel like it was really important to show the aftermath of Reader’s punishment. And for it to also just be more ammunition for Andy to be terrible even though HE caused it. And I am right there with you, he’s the WORST Andy I’ve ever written 😡🔪
I think the fact that no matter what Reader did or how she responded, she just couldn’t do anything right was very telling that her defiance really flipped that crueler switch for Andy, and of course it’s all driven by ego. How dare we defy him.
Jake was the perfect helping hand for this one because I really wanted someone who was the complete opposite of Andy. The sweetest, bravest bub 🥺
I laughed SO HARD at the “he had it coming” gif 🤣💀🤣💀🤣💀
And yesssss! I really wanted to preserve Reader’s innocence in a way, even after all of Andy’s defilement. And showing her remorse and trauma after killing him, despite how fucking awful he was, just shows she’s a good person 😭
Lloydddddd’s reaction gif 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Thank you SO much for this epic reblog!! It’s amazing ❤️
