Warnings: Referenced divorce, pining, possible power imbalance, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Day 22 of the June Jukebox Scribbles Challenge by @societynsoelsscribbles . ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Andy surprised you by asking you to dinner, and you tried not to get too excited.
You had been his assistant for a year. As far as bosses went, he was great. He didn’t demand that you work over your scheduled hours. He checked on you during the day. Always balanced any criticism with praise. Even gave you a higher raise than you expected in your review.
It was easy to crush on him.
“Thanks for joining me,” he said with a lopsided grin.
It made him look younger when he smiled.
“Thanks for asking,” you replied.
He tapped a finger on the table. “Minus clients, I think this is the first dinner I’ve had alone with a woman since…”
You set the menu down. “Laurie?” you asked carefully.
His blue eyes dimmed as he nodded.
Laurie, his ex.
“I’m sorry,” you said, and you weren’t sure what exactly you were apologizing for.
You heard pieces of what happened with their son and how their marriage collapsed because of it. You couldn’t imagine the pain they carried. How it forever changed them.
But if the year working for Andy taught you anything, it was that he was a good man who tried hard to do the right thing.
“Don’t be,” he said.
“So, you haven’t dated at all?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
It wasn’t the kind of question to ask your boss.
“I haven’t,” he answered quietly, scratching his beard almost absentmindedly. “I’ve noticed you haven’t mentioned any significant others either.”
“Oh. Well…” You exhaled. “I haven’t really dated in a while either.”
He leaned forward. “Why not?”
“Because maybe,” you began, smiling wistfully. “I’m waiting for the right guy to come along.”
Because maybe it was your boss.
And that was all he was for now.
Maybe he wants you, too! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Why’d this make me think of best friend Andy watching you clarify to someone that you guys are just friends and you don’t think of him like that, when he was close to asking you on a proper date
Omgosh!!!! Noooo! This is probably his delulu villain origin story then, and you will find yourself locked in his basement soon enough 😌 I mean 🫢
I’m definitely not excited to be Andy’s basement wife. Noooope. Not me 🙂↔️
Various Chris Evans variants x fem!Reader
Summary: Quiet moments, firsts, and everyday magic with the Evans variants. Each drabble stands alone and can be read in any order. See the individual chapters for warnings.
Andy Barber - Bedtime
Jimmy Dobyne - First Date
Jake Jensen - First 'I Love You'
Frank Adler - Lazy Rainy Day
Steve Rogers - Rocked to Sleep
Lloyd Hansen - Rain Check
Cary Baston - Sparkler
Pete Brenner - Strawberries
Nick Gant - Balcony
James Mace - Night Watch
Curtis Everett - Safe Harbor
Summary: Andy’s meeting with his assistant, brings him some news he can take to the DA.
Characters: Andy Barber, mentions of Lloyd Hansen
Pairing: Andy Barber x reader, mentions of Andy Barber x Laurie Barber
Warnings: Smut Minors DNI, Mob AU, affairs, Andy’s an ass, reader’s kind of sneaky.
A/N: Soooo this one kind of just became smut, I didn’t even mean for it to be, there was supposed to be plot here…I don’t know what happened. Special thanks to @krirebr for encouraging all of my ideas and reading this!
Pairing: Unnamed OC x fem!Reader, Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Warnings: awful blind date, dating, sweet Andy, implied gray Andy
Another blind date, another wasted night. You only agreed to meet up with the man to stop your friends from calling you a loner.
You knew the moment you arrived at the table that the guy waiting for you wasn’t Mr. Right. He barely looked up from the menu when the waiter offered to pull your chair.
You softly declined but thanked the waiter.
“You’re late.” The man commented as you sat down. “I hate waiting.”
“Well, then you shouldn’t have changed locations at the last minute. I was standing in front of the restaurant when you messaged me. I can’t fly, you know,” you snapped back. If not for your friends, you would’ve gladly left him there and then.
He finally put the menu aside to look you up and down. The man sighed deeply, as if you had offended him with your presence.
“What is it?” You asked, still debating whether to sit down or just walk out of the restaurant. “I haven’t even introduced myself, and you look like I ruined the date.”
“Nothing,” he replied, and grabbed the menu. “Please sit down. I don’t want people to start staring at us. I don’t know why I agreed to meet you.”
You huffed but sat down. Your stomach was empty, and you didn’t want to go hungry.
“Blind dates can be…” You tried to start a conversation, but he cut you off with a huff. “What is it now?”
“Nothing,” he said again, while you browsed the menu. “Just order food. I don’t want to wait any longer. I’m starving.”
You bit your tongue. It was no use to argue with a man like this. For your friends, you’d try to be polite and turn him down gently at the end of the night. If he were getting lucky, you’d pay for his meal too.
The waiter took your order while your date was busy scrolling on his phone. He checked on e-mails, ignoring your existence. You asked yourself once again—why are you even dating nowadays?
“Where’s my food?” He snapped at the waiter without taking his eyes off his phone. “I ordered twenty minutes ago.”
You couldn’t believe he changed the restaurant at the last minute and didn’t even wait for you to arrive.
Ordering your food, you tried to ignore the man’s stare. He was looking you up and down before he huffed. “I only agreed to meet up with you because my friend told me you are fit. You are far from being fit.”
His comment didn’t hurt your pride. You were by no means a fitness expert, but you did yoga, loved to jog, and hit the gym every few weeks or months. Whenever you find the time.
You wanted to tell him to get fucked, but the waiter arrived with your date’s food. Making a scene in front of the waiter who only tried to do their job was out of the question.
Before you could bring a word out, he continued. “I like slim and fit girls. Lazy couch potatoes are not my type.”
That did it. You slowly rose from your seat to look down at the arrogant piece of shit sitting across from you. “That’s great to know. I like a man with manners and depth, so we’re clearly not a match. I hope you soon find someone matching your awful character.”
He watched you walk away, grumbling under his breath. You could hear people near your table chuckle, and one of the waitresses even gave a thumbs-up.
“What a waste of time,” you said. “I should’ve stayed home.”
“Hey there, neighbor,” your new neighbor from next door said. He held the door open for you, offering a warm smile. “How was your evening?”
“A disaster,” you answered honestly.
“Work?” Andy offered.
“Bad blind date. My friends told me he’s a nice and smart guy,” you replied. Andy made a face when you told him about the man’s attitude.
“Did you at least eat?” He asked, looking at you with worried eyes. Andy watched you struggle to come up with a lie. “You didn’t eat.” He concluded, “How about you join me for dinner? I made more than enough.”
“I don’t want to ruin your night, too. You surely had better plans,” you tried, but Andy wouldn’t let you off the hook.
“Better plans than spending them with my lovely neighbor?” Andy whispered lowly. “Please don’t make me eat alone. After my divorce, I have been eating alone all the time. I’d love to have some company.”
You reluctantly agreed, offering to bring wine. Andy smiled, his hand gently brushing yours. “Take your time. Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Okay,” you breathed out. Andy was a handsome and sweet man. You heard through the grapevine that he went through a nasty divorce. His wife took the house, the son, and the car. “I’ll bring the wine.”
“Come as you are, that’ll be enough,” he replied, still with that stupidly sweet smile on his face.
You followed Andy inside the building and toward your apartment. He was walking next to you, casually chatting about your day until you reached your apartment.
“I’ll be there in an hour. Is that alright with you, Andy?” You asked. “I’d like to change into something more comfortable.”
“I’ll be waiting for you, Y/N.”
While you changed clothing and looked for the wine, Andy made a few calls. He hated nothing more than men treating a woman badly.
“Barber, what can I do for you?” The man on the other side of the line asked. He chuckled darkly and ran his index finger and thumb over his mustache. “I thought your wild days were over.”
“I need information about some dipshit messing with my woman,” Andy casually said, leaning back in his swivel chair. “They were dining at the new steakhouse in town. I already pulled the footage. I want everything. Every. Single. Detail.”
“Oh, we are playing dirty again?” Lloyd laughed into the phone. “Consider it done, Barber. After that, any request will cost you.”
“Of course…” Andy said. He hung up, looking at the monitors in his office. Rewatching the scene when you got up and knocked your date down a few pegs, he smirked. “A perfect match for me…”
This is a genuine HC I have for him. I think he’d really enjoy working with his hands and he’d be so soft at how delighted you are whenever he makes you a cute little figurine or a gorgeous decorative box or the like 😍
Car racing is:
I’ve low key paired Ari with a sports car in a couple of my fics because I think he’d totally be a car guy, and I can see him enjoying the rush and fanfare of car racing 😮💨
Gardening: I know Cole would be the obvious choice here but I wanted to think outside of the box, so I’m going with
I could see it starting as like routine landscaping/maintenance that just kind of snowballs because Andy likes his/your property to look really nice, and then he surprisingly really gets into picking out flower types and trees to plant and hedge shapes, etc 🤭 Then he’s like, fuck it, why not try a vegetable garden since he likes to cook and you love when he feeds you bwahaha. Very cute domestic provider vibes ☺️
What can your muse do with Andy & "So this is what you call moving on from me."
Thank you, Anon! This was a fun one! ❤️
Starring: Dark!Enforcer!andy barber x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+. Murder. Implied stalking.
Word Count: 557
The restaurant is quiet enough that you hear the chair scrape against the hardwood before you ever see him. Your date is laughing. He’s halfway through telling you about some hiking trail he wants to take you to next weekend when the color drains from his face.
“Sir…?”
You don’t have to turn around. Every instinct in your body already knows.
Andy.
He stands beside the table in an immaculate charcoal suit, one gloved hand tucked into his pocket, the other lazily adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. To everyone else, he looks like another wealthy businessman.
To you, he’s death wearing a tailored smile.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Your stomach knots.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“No?” His eyes drift to the man sitting across from you. “Seems I arrived right on time.”
Your date clears his throat. “Listen, man, I don’t know who…”
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
The words aren’t loud. They’re worse because they aren’t. You stand so fast your chair topples over.
“Andy.”
His gaze finally returns to yours, softening in a way that would almost look affectionate to anyone watching.
“There she is.”
“You need to leave.”
“I asked you to come home.”
“I told you I was done.”
His jaw flexes.
“You don’t get to be done.”
Your date rises beside you, trying to position himself between you.
“I think she made herself pretty clear.”
Andy studies him for a long moment. Almost curiously. Then he sighs.
“So…” His head tilts. “This is what you call moving on from me.”
The words are almost amused.
“You don’t understand,” you whisper.
Your date squares his shoulders.
“No. You don’t understand. She doesn’t want—”
The sound that follows is deafening.
A single crack.
The room erupts into screams. Your date crumples before the sentence is ever finished. Time stops.You stare.
No. No no no…
Blood creeps across the polished floor as Andy calmly lowers the suppressed pistol, his expression unreadable. He steps over the body as though it were an inconvenience. When he reaches you, your knees nearly give out.
“You…” Your voice breaks. “You killed him.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
His gloved fingers brush a tear from your cheek with unbearable tenderness.
“Because he touched what belongs to me.”
You slap him. Hard. The dining room falls silent except for distant crying. Andy barely reacts. Instead, he smiles.
“There you are.”
His hand closes gently—but unyieldingly—around your wrist.
“I’ve missed that fire.”
You try to pull away.
He doesn’t even strain to hold you.
“You don’t get to do this!” you scream. “I hate you!”
For the first time all night, Andy looks wounded. But only for a second. Then the coldness returns.
“No.”
His voice is barely above a whisper.
“You hate what I do.”
He steps closer until your forehead nearly brushes his chest.
“But if you truly hated me…”
His fingers tighten just enough to remind you escape isn’t an option.
“…you never would’ve looked over your shoulder every time the restaurant door opened.” His lips ghost your ear.
“You were hoping it would be me.”
Before you can deny it, he’s already leading you toward the waiting black sedan outside. Not because you’ve surrendered.
But because everyone in the restaurant is too terrified to stop the devil from taking back what he believes was always his.
Andy triple checks that there's no one who can see him setting out offerings for fairies. As an assistant DA doing these kinds of things could hurt his reputation. But it's something he used to do with his mother and, even though he forgot to do it for years before the divorce, he's making up for it now.
He's about to leave when he hears you giggle "thank you!" before grabbing everything and flying off.
🌷🌹🌼🌺🌻🌷🌹🌼🌺🌻🌷🌹🌼🌺🌻
-Zombie
Zombie, thank you for this sweet ask, and I’m sorry it took me a few days to respond. You inspired me to write a little something, because I love the idea of Andy believing in fairies!
Andy freezes.
For a split second, he wonders if he’s imagined it—the soft giggle, the bright little “Thank you!” that floats through the evening air.
Then he sees you.
No taller than his hand, wings shimmering in the moonlight as you eagerly scoop up every carefully placed offering he’d left behind. Your smile is so impossibly bright that it steals the breath from his lungs.
You glance up—and your eyes meet his.
“Oh.”
You blink once, twice, before a sheepish grin spreads across your face.
“…You weren’t supposed to see me.”
A nervous laugh escapes you as you hug the little treasures to your chest.
“I’ve been waiting for you to leave every night.”
Your gaze softens.
“Thank you for remembering us. Most humans stop believing… but you came back.”
With a delighted twirl that scatters tiny flecks of sparkling dust through the air, you offer him one last smile.
“I think I’ll leave you something next time.”
Before Andy can find the words to respond, you’re already zipping into the trees, your laughter echoing long after you’ve disappeared.
