Warning: age gap, verbal and physical abuse, dark elements….
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: silverfox!Andy Barber (mob au)
Note: If you’ve got a problem with slow burn then you’ve got a problem with me and I suggest you let that one marinate.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Fridays are usually a relief. Not today. You barely have the energy or clarity to get through your singular class. You can’t tear your mind away from the night before. How can so little time change so much?
It’s happened before. You remember those nights you went to sleep and the next you woke up without a mother. You grieve for that little girl who believed she wouldn’t leave again. Who even hoped that if her mom did go, she’d take her with her. That never happened.
You know this is different. Andy isn’t going to leave you alone. You already told him to. You gave him every reason to. You gave him back everything he gave but he just put it all right back in your lap. His control is overwhelming and confusing.
Is it control? He’s not asking you to pay him back. He’s not making you work for it.
Not like when your dad had you scrub the floors for your first package of tampons. All the while, he reminded you how disgusting you were. He didn’t make you change three times before leaving the house; he didn’t set a timer when you went to the corner store.
It doesn’t feel like a collar around your neck. You can’t quite understand the feeling. There’s that weight of suffocation in your chest but there’s something else. A lightness. A trickle of hope. You can’t help but imagine what it could be like to let him take it all over. To just stop thinking and let Andy decide. He’s good at that.
He told you, over and over. You want to believe him but there’s that little girl crying in that empty house. He’s shown you how nice he can be, how much he can do for you, but you just can’t make yourself believe that this is more than temporary. He will leave, or at the very least cast you out. You can’t let yourself succumb to naivety. Not this time.
No, you can be cautious. Enjoy that time while it lasts. Put your pennies away for after. Make sure that there is an after.
You leave class wrapped up in your inner turmoil. As you shuffle along with your peers, following the sound of their squeaking soles, your stomach bubbles giddily. You stop at the top of the staircase and step to the side, out of the way of those impatient to top up their caffeine addiction or get started on their Friday night hurrah.
You smirk and bite your lip. There’s that needling thought in the back of your head. The naughty one that makes you want to melt to a puddle.
You’ve seen the movies about wild coeds, about all sorts of scandalous and obscene antics. Movies about professors and students breaking the rules behind closed doors, of frat parties bursting at the seams with alcohol and nudity. Everly dragged you into the latter one too many times, but the former…
An older man.
You shiver and lean on the wall as you grip the straps of your knapsack. Your chest flutters and you feel suddenly nauseous. It’s not like you never thought of men, maybe even a few women, but you just never chased it. You never thought of it being real.
You saw how it goes. You saw your father lashing out, your mother covered in bruises. Then Everly, look at how that went. And your aunt and her stories of men robbing her blind after nights out, or refusing to get off her damn couch.
This seems too good to be true. No, it’s just that early stage when it’s all perfect and pretty. Don’t let it go past that. Protect yourself first.
Don’t be like them.
Your face falls as your pocket vibrates. You dig out the phone Andy forced into your hand when he dropped you off. You’re not surprised it’s him texting.
‘Everything okay? Waiting.’
Your lip trembles. Are you really going to do this? You close your mouth and a tingle ripples over you. You can still feel his warmth and the tickle of his fingertips on your skin.
‘Omw. Srry'
You shove the phone away and barrel down the stairs. Stop thinking. This is the one moment in your life when you can do that.
You go out into the wet aftermath of the morning showers. Andy waits in front of the gate to the paid parking. You pick up your pace. He’ll get a ticket if he idles there.
You open the door and drop into the car. You gulp down a breath, only then realising you’d stopped. Andy leans over and startles you. He kisses between your cheek and temple.
“How was it, sweetheart?”
You flinch and settle your knapsack on your lap. “Um… just class.”
“Uh huh,” he sits back. “Buckle up.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” you stutter. “Thanks for coming to get me. I… I could’ve–”
“No more buses. If I’m around or not, I’ll make sure you get to where you need to be,” he insists.
“Oh, well, the pass is part of our tuition–”
“Don’t worry about it.” He backs out and spins the wheel, joining the sluggish line of cars trawling through the oblivious pedestrians crossing without looking. “Let me worry about things, alright?”
“Mm, okay. I guess…”
“You guess,” he echoes.
You shrug. “Sorry, it’s just… all so…” your voice trails off as your phone shakes again. You ignore it. “Well, I… I’m just… tired. It’s been a long two days…”
Your phone starts again. You can hear the buzz. So can Andy.
“Who’s that?” He asks.
You lean to one side and dig out the phone. It’s your dad. You have missed calls from the days of separation from the device and more from today.
“My dad. I can call him back.”
“He’s been calling for a while…” He drawls.
You cluck and huff. “Yeah, well, uh…”
“You think he’s worried?” Andy asks.
You nearly scoffed. You’re embarrassed to let on that your dad would never worry about you. Not like that. Only what he can get from you.
You chew your lip and answer, putting the phone to your ear as you lean away from Andy.
“Hello.” You answer.
Your father grumbles.
You stare at the top of your bag. You are overly aware of the presence next to you. You sniff.
“Hello, sir.”
“Bout time you fucking answer.” He snarls.
“I'm sorry–”
“Don't give me this shit about school. I know it ain't that hard.” He snarls. “Now I been wasting my time tryna get through to you. I got bills to pay and you're not helping none. Running around at some fucking college.”
You shrink down. This is why you didn't want to answer. Your hands are sweaty as your vision blurs.
“I don't why you're fucking wasting the money when you owe me a fuckton.” He goes on.
“Hey, everything okay…” Andy asks quietly as he touches your arm.
You jolt and the phone shifts in your hand.
“What's that? You fucking around–”
The phone slips entirely and you scramble to catch it. Your thumb smears the screen and your dad's voice comes full force over the speaker. You stare in horror as his rant is broadcast for Andy to hear.
“A slut. Just like mommy, huh? I heard that. You got some boy there. Well, forgive fucking me for interrupting you. Hope you're at least getting paid for being a fucking whore–”
Andy swipes the phone before you can turn the volume off. You squeal as he scoops it up in front of his mouth, his other hand firmly on the wheel.
“That's no way to talk to your daughter.” He sneers.
“And who the fuck are you? Oh, don't you sound all tough and mighty. Bet you're 120 soaking wet, huh, boy?”
“You need to apologise.” Andy ignores your father's snipes.
“Fuck off.”
“Now.” Andy grits.
Your father guffaws. “Why? You know I ain't wrong. You're fucking her and all that.”
“I don't give second chance but you can apologise right now –”
“Or what?” Your father spits. “Having fucking fun with the leech. I don't fucking want her. Never did.”
The call clicks and Andy keeps the phone hovered just over the wheel. He taps the side button and slides it into the cupholder. You sit in silence, humiliated and hot.
He flips on his signal and pulls into the library lot. You stare down, eyes barely open as you fight back tears. He shifts into park.
You don't move. You don't even look at him. He undoes his seatbelt. You stay frozen in the passenger seat.
He grabs your knapsack and shoves it down onto the floor. He clicks the buckle of your seatbelt and it repels. He reaches to untangle your shoulder then grips it.
He angles you in your seat and draws you close. He wraps his other arm around you as he leans over the space between your seats. His hand brushes up to your head and he pets your hair as he guides your face into his neck. His other hand spreads over your side as he hugs you snugly.
“It's alright, sweetheart.” He holds you as he breathes into your hair. “I'm gonna take care of you… and I'm gonna take care of him too.”
Summary - You work for the Barbers but just how far are you willing to go to keep your job.
Warnings - Noncon, obsessive behavior. 18+ Only! My warnings are not extensive so enter at your own risk.
Word Count - 1165
You had been working for the Barbers for a few months now. Hired to do their cleaning and any odd jobs that Mr Barber required whilst working from home.
There were a lot of positives that came with the job. The pay was great, the hours were good and Laurie even treated you as a friend, often inviting you to stay for a glass of wine or dinner.
Unfortunately there were negatives for working for the Barbers too. Andy's lecherous gaze that you felt on you at all times, his wandering hands that you often found on your back or ass, the lewd comments that fell from his lips when no one else was around.
You had taken it in your stride, ignoring him as best you could and carrying on with your tasks while Andy strode away each time and locked himself in his office. You didn't want to know what he was doing behind that door when he locked it, but he would often tell you anyway.
You arrived at work that morning and let yourself into the house as you always did, hanging your coat and removing your shoes before you stepped into the kitchen to begin your cleaning tasks.
Laurie had left a note on the counter with a list of extra tasks she required for the day, such as steaming her dress for the upcoming gala and setting up Jacobs new controller for when he got home. All easy enough to do.
You could hear Andy clicking at his keyboard from his office but you always ignored his presence for as long as possible, only going to ask if he needed anything when you absolutely had to.
The day ticked on as it should with no interruptions. You had managed to get all the usual cleaning tasks complete and had lauries dressed steamed and hung in her room before settling on you elbows at the kitchen island as you unboxed Jacobs new controller.
You smelt Andy's powerful yet heavenly scent before you heard the footsteps come around the corner. He was a handsome specimen, there was no denying that, in his tight jeans and black sweater that looked almost custom made as it moulded to his muscular chest.
He strode into the space confidently saying a quick hello as he made his way towards the coffee maker and got it started.
You tried to focus on your task as he pottered around behind you, but his very presence made you nervous.
Then you felt it, the sudden shift in the air and the subtle change in Andy's breathing behind you.
You knew he was watching you, but you daren't turn around to look the beast in the mouth. Your hands shook as you pried the controller from the plastic casing with a pop.
You heard Andy sigh loudly.
"Do you realize how hard it is to be around you?" He growled.
You swallowed harshly. This was how it always began, the lewd comments, then came a stray hand on your skin before he'd let you know he was going to jack off and lock himself away.
"Do you realize just how hard I AM around you?" He growled again when you didn't respond.
Your heart rate quickened as you felt warmth on your back and Andy's hands appeared on the counter beside you, caging you in.
He placed his nose in your hair, inhaling audibly with a groan as he pressed his body against you and you tried not to whimper when you felt his cock against your ass, rock hard beneath his jeans.
The controller was abandoned, dropping with a clatter onto the counter as you placed your palms down on the cold surface to try and keep yourself grounded.
"I don't know how much longer I can do this." Andy sighed, "Before I'll need the real thing."
He slipped a hand onto your waist and his hand began wandering until it landed on your breast and squeezed.
"I'll quit." You squeaked out as he pawed at your breast.
"No you won't." He chuffed, "We both know how badly you need this job."
You hated that he was right, hated that you had no control over the situation, only able to just stand quietly and take the unwanted advances.
You felt him begin to rut his cock against your ass and your eyes widened in fear.
"Please." You whimpered as your eyes glazed over.
"Shhhhh." Andy hushed in your ear before taking the lobe in his teeth, sucking at the flesh before releasing it with a pop. "I need this."
His free hand left the counter top and cradled your throat, squeezing lightly as if to remind you of the power difference between you.
With his hand on your breast and the one on your neck he pulled you against his body and his continued humping his cock against you.
"One day." He grunted, "This won't be enough."
You could only whimper gently as tears began trickling over your cheeks.
"I tried getting over my obsession with you." He began as he rutted harder and faster against you, "Tried pretending my wife was you, tried imagining you while I fuck my own hand. It's not enough, it's never enough."
"Andy please stop." You pleaded once more, even though you knew there was no point.
"Oh baby keep begging." He panted, "I'm so close."
You didn't, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of something that helped his relentless desire.
"Oh god." He panted loudly, placing his face in the crook of your neck and mumbling against your skin, "Feels so good baby. M'so close."
He was thrusting even harder now, making your own hips bash against the counter top painfully.
"Yes baby. That's it. Oh god." He began mumbling before biting down into your neck harshly, causing a small yelp from your lips.
His movements slowed and then finally stilled. He released his forceful hold on you breast and placed the hand on your waist.
He finally released your skin from between his teeth and you gasped in relief. His hand cradling your throat was then moved to join his other on your waist and he held you close.
If it were any other situation, it might seem sweet, a gentle hug after a tryst with a lover, but this wasn't that.
He breathed deeply into your neck as he came down from his high, chest rising and falling against your back while you silently cried.
Finally he stepped back and you inhaled a deep breath.
"Jacob will be home soon." He said sternly, "You might wanna finish that. I need to change."
Then he walked away. Just strolled out like he'd just had a casual conversation with you, leaving you to crumble against the counter as the reality of what just happened sunk in.
It was time to ask yourself a very important question, just how badly did you need this job? How far would you let him go?
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Dark!Andy Barber x Female Reader
Summary: Steve broke your heart. Andy wants to pick up the pieces.
Word Count: 300
Warnings: mention of break-up, heartbreak, dark themes, angst, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Day 2 of the January Jumble Scribbles Challenge. Prompt: Where worlds collide and days are dark. ❤️ 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!
People said time healed all wounds. You weren’t sure if you believed that. The pain lingered beneath the surface, and some days it was enough to crush you. Others, you willed yourself to forget that you gave your heart to someone who easily threw it away.
If you only knew the truth.
“I’d love to take you on a date.”
Andy Barber’s voice settled over you. The man was admittedly handsome with his perfectly trimmed beard and soft smile. His blue eyes reminded you of Steve Rogers, the man who still held your heart. Which was exactly why you couldn’t accept his offer.
You couldn’t give a piece of yourself to a man when you still longed for another.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not quite ready.”
It was pathetic. Steve broke up with you months ago, telling you it was for the best as he wiped your tears away. Why couldn’t you move on?
Why couldn’t you let him go?
A prickling feeling crawled up your spine when Andy’s eyes darkened, but they softened immediately. “I understand,” he said, briefly putting his hand over yours. “And I’ll wait.”
You tried to smile, but it fell flat. You didn’t want to give him false hope. It wouldn’t be fair.
What you didn’t know was that Andy had no intention of waiting. He was going to take you whether you agreed or not. And no one was going to stop him.
No one except for Steve.
He thought breaking your heart would keep you safe from his enemies. All it did was put a target on your back. But he’d save you and apologize, even if you hated him for ending things instead of giving you a choice.
Where worlds collide and days are dark, that was where he would find you.
My original intent with the prompt was going to be supernatural and the muse refused. 😂 Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Here is a current list of all of the work I've posted here. I write mostly for Chris Evans characters and all of my stories are intended for an 18+ audience. Minors please DNI.
Requests are closed but my asks are always open! Come riff with me or send asks/what ifs about any of my works! But no NSFW GIFs, please and thank you! 💜
🖤 Dark 🩶 Soft!Dark 😥 Angst 🥵 Smut 🥹Fluff ⭐️New/Updated
Trapped AU
Andy keeps telling you how lucky you are that he chose you to be his wife. 🖤 😥
You'd Be Like Heaven to Touch
You can't believe your luck when you find the perfect house for cheap. 🖤🥵
Head Over Heels
All Cole wants is someone to share eternity with. He won't stop looking until he finds them.
Never Let You Go
You rent a tiny cabin to have an isolated respite from your hectic life. You weren't expecting the rental's proprietor, Cole. 🖤
I Know I Should Know Better series
Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it? 😥🥵
Heads Will Roll series
Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.
Luck Be a Lady
Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head? 🩶🥵
Still Life series
Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad... 😥
Drabbles & Headcanons
Curtis + soft!dark + soothe 🖤
Curtis Takes the Snowpiercer 🖤🥵
Curtis + Possessive 🥵
Just Part of the Process - I Know I Should Know Better AU - Actor!Curtis Everett x PA!Reader 😥
These Days - estranged brothers Curtis and Andy 😥
Family Affair - angsty brothers Curtis and Colin 😥
One + One is Two - A collection of Single Dad Curtis snippets and drabbles 🥹⭐️
Heads Will Roll series
Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.
Drabbles & Headcanons
Relax
A Merry Little Christmas
Killing Moon
When you and your boyfriend steal something without fully realizing who you are stealing from, you're sent on a cross-country adventure by an ally you're pretty sure you shouldn't trust.
Giving Me a Thrill
A few years after your divorce, a friend gives you a nudge to try something new.
Psycho Killer AU
A drunken dare and chance encounter jump-starts a whole new life. 🖤🥵
Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale
Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two 🖤🥵😥
More Than This series
Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn. 😥⭐️
I'm Feeling Like I Never Should
It's bad enough you've been forced to be at this charity gala, but now you have to deal with your ex, Ransom.
Lips Like Sugar
Finally cut off by his mother and grandfather, Ransom has to find a new way to access the lifestyle he's accustomed to. He figures it won't be too hard to find some rich old lady willing to bankroll him in exchange for sex. You aren't exactly what he expected.
Drabbles & Headcanons
Jealous Ex Ransom
Sequel 🥵
End
No Way of Knowing - More Than This What If 😥
Voices Carry - Estranged brothers Ransom and Lloyd 😥
What You Can Do For Your Country
Being Captain America is a lot harder than anyone realizes. Steve thinks you might be able to help. 🖤
Everybody Wants to Rule the World series
Your vacation comes to an end when a powerful and mysterious man gets his first taste. 🖤🥵
Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale
Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two
All Things Go series
It's been a few months since Steve was pulled out of the ice and immediately had to fight aliens with the newly formed Avengers. He is doing fine with all that, all things considered. Which is why he's so upset when he's suddenly benched from missions and forced to welcome a support omega into his home. He's fine! 😥
Close to Me miniseries
You're in desperate need of a fake boyfriend and this handsome stranger looks friendly enough to ask. But when it's done, he might need you to return the favor.
Drabbles & Headcanons
Arranged Marriage Steve Headcanon
Tell Me One Thing - More Than This What If 😥
What if Reader was into it? - What You Can Do For Your Country What If 🖤
We're All Monsters
Multi-character, multi-reader vampire AU 🖤😥🥵
The Rogers Academy for Exceptional Wives
Multi-character, multi-reader wife training AU 🖤😥🥵⭐️
Three's Company
A collection of drabbles about various throuples made up of two CE babes and a gn!reader. 🥵⭐️
Summary: You don't know why you denied Andy for so long. He really is the best.
A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.
Warnings: Implied eating disorder, Worries of infidelity. Please let me know if I missed any!
You'd finished cooking dinner just in time. There were only a few minutes before Andy arrived home and you wanted everything to be as perfect as he is.
The food is plated and set on the table as you get back to the kitchen to clean up. You know Andy doesn't like coming home to a mess and, honestly, you don't blame him. Really, you can't believe how lazy you used to be when you were single! You'd actively avoid cooking or buying certain things just because you couldn't put them in the dishwasher! You feel silly remembering it now.
You sigh, thinking about how lucky you are Andy had the patience to teach you how to be a better woman. How to live up to your full potential. Some days you still find yourself apologizing for hurting him for so long with your rejections. He assures you it's all okay now that you've learned better.
"Honey, I'm home!" he calls from the front door.
As quickly as your high-heels will allow, you get to the front door to greet him with a kiss as you take his jacket.
"How are you doing, handsome?"
"Ugh, long day, bad case. The usual, you know?"
"Oh, my poor hubby! You go into the dining room and dig in. I made your favorite!"
Andy wraps his big, strong arms around you, "so long as it was made by you, it's definitely my favorite."
"Oh, you're too sweet!" you rebut with a playful smack.
He goes to give you a kiss but then looks at your outfit and stops. "Did you wear that all day?"
Looking at what you wore you realize why he's worried. It's one of your skimpier outfits. One of the ones he doesn't like you wearing in front of others without him by your side. He says it's because you're so beautiful and he just wants to keep you safe from prying eyes.
"I didn't go outside today," you quickly inform him. "And I knew you'd like to see me in it."
"As long as I'm the only one," he growls.
"I promise Andy, you're the only man who ever gets to see me like this."
"How can I be sure you're not prancing in front of the windows with that? Putting on a show for the neighbors?"
"I would never, Andy. You're the only man for me. None of them compare to you."
"Hmm..." he bites his lower lip and you pout. "Let's have dinner. Before it gets cold. Maybe I'm just hangry."
That gets you smiling and you lead him to the dinner table. He sits at the head of the table and smiles at the plate with much larger portions of food than yours.
Some days you can't believe how much you used to eat. You pity your old self who thought she needed that many calories. It's clear, in retrospect, Andy's firm hand was all you needed to be your best self. You're so lucky he saw the potential you had and didn't give up on you.
"Are you alright, honey?" Andy's voice breaks your thoughts.
"I was just thinking about how much happier I am now that we're together," you smile and gently squeeze his hand. "How I was so dumb to push you away for so long. You're perfect and I just couldn't see it!"
He gently rubs your cheek with the back of his hand. "That's all behind us now, honey. And I couldn't be happier." You let out a sigh of relief. "I was actually thinking, maybe we're ready for the next chapter of our lives."
"Oh? What would that be?"
"I think you're ready to have my baby."
You gasp in surprise, eyes widening in excitement. "Oh, Andy, that would be wonderful! Please, I'll do anything to carry your child!"
Andy pulls his hand away while his eyes darken. You hear the telltale sound of his zipper. "How about you get me warmed up?"
"Of course!" you squeal, almost on your knees already.
You wake up drenched in sweat, your hands going to your neck to feel for the cursed collar Andrew had once used to trap you. Confirming it's not there makes your shoulders relax and helps you to regulate your breathing.
Turning on the light next to the bed you're only a little surprised to see the card August Walker, the demon who proposed to you, sitting there. No matter how many ways you try to get rid of it, the card keeps coming back. Always when you're at your angriest.
There's no feelings of remorse for condemning Andrew to his fate. Mess with demons, prepare for consequences. But you're still tempted to call on August to make sure Andrew is suffering. Maybe it'll stop the nightmares if you do.
Part One in a series of Pete’s Place regular one-shots.
main masterlist | meet the regulars
✧.* ೃ⁀➷ pairing: Andy Barber x female!reader.
word count: 803 | series rating: explicit. ༊*·˚
warnings: daddy kink, prostitution (kinda), light smuttiness, andy being sweet (although not really).
this is a dark au. minors are not welcome here.
“Knock, knock,” Andy called out, stepping into the dressing room where you were finishing up some final touches to your liner, eyes lightening up at the reflection of a large bouquet of roses in his arm and a large, sleek black bag dangling from his hand.
You whirled yourself around, liner clattering amongst the mess of the vanity. “Chanel?” You gawked, a grin breaking out.
Andy had a habit of showing up with gifts; clothes, jewellery, flowers, whatever he could think of for his favourite girl of the week, but you had managed to keep his undivided attention for well over a month now. Had he been any other man in the club, you would’ve already propositioned him, offering yourself for a night, but he was too close with Pete; although the more attention he gave, the more you found yourself toying with the risk.
“For me?” You feigned surprise, “I could never— Gimme, gimme, gimme—“
Andy chuckled as he strolled over, bag outstretched towards your grabby hands and pressed a soft, brief kiss to the top of your head. You leaned up as you shook the box open, grinning and letting your lips ghost against his— the closest you had ever gotten to kissing him before. Each gift, each kind word, each longing look; every new tale you heard from the girls about how attentive he was in bed, how calling him ‘Daddy’ kept him hard for hours, how he rambled filth when he was close… it all just kept shoving you past a line you were trying desperately not to toe.
“You know I love spoiling you,” Andy said softly, pulling the chair from the neighbouring vanity closer so he could perch next to you as you pulled out the small, intricately designed black bag. “I chose something simple, didn’t know exactly what you would like—“
“Bullshit,” You giggled, cutting him off which resulted in a bashful smile spreading across his face. “You knew I’d love it.”
“Yeah, I did,” Andy laughed, placing the roses on your vanity and reaching for your hand, thumb rubbing over the dainty diamond ring he had gotten you the week before.
“I love it,” You told him honestly, placing the bag back in the box and carefully placing it down on the floor. “And I love the roses, you always know exactly what to get me.”
“Think I’ve earned a little one on one?” Andy asked, hands moving to your hips as you got up, resting your hands on his shoulders for a moment before letting them cross behind his neck, hand bending up to card through his hair.
“Pete doesn’t let me in VIP, and… I don’t really feel comfortable—“
“Oh! No! Not that,” Andy quickly cut in, eyes wild with fear that he’d caused you any kind of discomfort. He slid his hand up and down your back while the other massaged the meat of your hip. “Not that I wouldn’t want— Ah, fuck. I know that’s not your thing. I just wanted some time with you. What about after—“
“I can’t,” You replied woefully, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the deep red of the VIP rooms. “Pete doesn’t allow it. I’m sorry.”
“What? I can’t even buy you dinner? In your free time?”
“You’re a club client,” You explained, your eyes locked on his. “Pete’s client. I’m not…”
You trailed off, staring at him for a moment. His blue eyes were kept on yours, waiting earnestly for you to continue talking. His white shirt, ruffled from his day stuck in an office, clung to chest; taunting you with the defined muscles that hid underneath. The hands heavy on your body clouded your senses and made the devil on your shoulder jump for joy when the last of your resolve broke.
“Fuck it,” You murmured, more to yourself than to Andy.
You slid yourself into his lap, not giving either of you a second to think, before you slotted your lips against his and immediately melted into him. His hand found the back of your neck, keeping you anchored to him as he slid his tongue against yours, and used his other hand to rock your hips down against his.
“Let Daddy have you, baby, please. I’ll be so good to you,” Andy begged, almost breathlessly against your lips as your eyes flicked towards the door to ensure you were still alone. “Please, pretty baby—“
“Do you know where I’m staying?” You asked, letting a small smile slip when Andy hastily nodded, his hands coming up to cup your face, trying to pull you back against his lips. “Meet me there, park around the back.”
“Can’t wait, Sugar.” Andy sealed your fate with another swift, messy kiss before reluctantly letting you slide off his lap. “I’ll see you on the floor,” He said softly, standing and leaning down to steal a final kiss before rolling out his shoulders and loosening his tie a little as he headed towards the door. “Bye, baby.”
“Bye, Daddy,” You teased.
“I will fuck you right here on this floor,” Andy threatened quietly, finger pointed out to you, turning in the doorway before taking a few steps back and disappearing with a grin.
A/N: i just wanted to take extra time to forewarn readers: this chapter is rough. it contains depictions of emotional, psychological and physical abuse. please be prepared for those things before continuing. i normally write very dark content, but i feel like i take a lot of liberties with…let’s call it magical realism, but in a dark way. i went very literal here, and if you would like to skip it, that’s fine. you can scroll to the rose, and that will signal the end of what *i* consider to be the worst offenses. take care of yourselves and remember that only you can be responsible for your own media consumption.
“We’re going to have to have an unpleasant conversation. I think you know that.” Your clothes are laid out on the bed, waiting for you when you get out of the shower Andy insisted you take. He is seated at the foot of it with steepled fingers and brows furrowed as he watches you emerge from the bathroom. For a moment he says nothing else, the rage simmering beneath his calm exterior is loud enough already.
You cling to your towel with trembling fists, naked and terrified beneath it. Strangely, you wish you could have gotten dressed before, as if thin barriers of cloth would be enough to shield you from Andy’s rage. Instead, you stand before him bare and cowering, waiting for the punishment you know is coming.
“Please answer me when I speak to you, Honey, let’s not make this hard.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good girl. Come here.” You’re afraid to, your knees tensing as your thighs tremble with the effort not to move. With jerky steps you inch closer until you’re close enough to reach out and touch him. “You haven’t been eating enough, Honey.” Andy clucks his tongue, shaking his head. “Not getting enough rest, either, I imagine.” He places a hand on your thigh, fingering the edge of the towel. Slowly he inches it up, revealing the damp skin beneath. You almost want to stop him as he pushes it up over the curve of your hip, your fingers twitching as he exposes you carelessly.
“You took my daughter from her home. You abandoned your family. You broke your vows.” He continues upward, over the gentle swell of your belly, between your breasts and then wrenches the towel from you, throwing it to the floor. You flinch, whimpering as you throw your hands up to protect from a blow that doesn’t come.
“Am I missing anything?” When you don’t respond, his lip curls. “Honey, I am trying so hard to be patient with you but you are really starting to piss me off.” He grits the last part out through clenched teeth.
“N-no.”
“Oh? I think I am.” His grip is bruising as he turns your head forcibly to the side, pushing back the curtain of your hair. “Was he good, at least?” Your stomach goes cold, and you attempt to stammer out an answer.
“N—I don’t know w-what you mean, Andy, I—” He jerks your head to the side viciously.
“The evidence is right fucking here.” His thumb presses against the side of your throat hard enough to hurt. Andy fits his other hand against your hip, a painful, crude mockery of Ari’s loving touch. “And here.” You hadn’t noticed the bruises, the marks he had left behind. But Andy had seen them, keen eyes picking them out. He pushes you away roughly and you yelp as you trip over your own stiff legs. “No apology? Typical. I’m sure you’ll say we were on a break,” he sneers. “Or not together, right?” Andy squats down. “That one is your fucking favorite.”
You’re cowering against the dresser—you don’t even remember getting to your knees. You stay there, making yourself as small as you can. Not for the first time you think of last year’s Christmas, wondering why you had ever let him back in. How had you forgotten the way his gentle hands turned hard as stone when you stood your ground? The dizzying terror of his anger?
“Stop that.” He snaps, lip curling as he watches you shrink. “I haven’t hit you. I haven’t ever hit you.” You want to say that pushing you around isn’t any better, but you don’t. In fact, even thinking the words feels like a crime.
“I’m sorry,” You’re on the verve of hyperventilation, your chest moving rapidly up and down as you try to find the words to placate his rage. Andy looms in your vision, his handsome face a cold, blank mask. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” Andy cocks his head at you. “Do you?”
“I—I was wrong. I was c-confused and scared and I should have trusted you and I’m sorry.” He leans in close, playing with a lock of your damp hair. You flinch when he reaches for you. “A-Andy please—”
“That’s a very good apology, Honey. I’m afraid I just don’t believe it.” He sighs. “You never answered me.”
“What?”
“Was. He. Good.” His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, colder too. You want to look away, to cower, but for the sake of your lie—perhaps your life—you don’t.
“N-no.” Now you do, eyes flicking down to your trembling hands before moving back up to his face. “He hurt me.” For too many heartbeats, Andy is quiet. He stares at his ring, twisting it on his finger.
“I told you what other men are like, Honey.” He grips your chin again, but softer this time, shaking his head. His thumb traces over your bottom lip. “Why do you insist on running from me when I’m only trying to do what’s best for you? This is twice now.” He’s counting your breakup, the one you had requested—the one he had refused to give you, the one you had had to take for yourself in the quiet hours, what few things you could carry in garbage bags in the back of your car.
“It’s a pattern with you, Honeybee. Things get hard, you get scared, you pack up, you leave. Our family can’t take that.” Our family. “Jake cried himself to sleep half the nights you were gone. Thinks you hate him.” He shakes his head, clucking his tongue. When you don’t answer, he raises an eyebrow silently, and you find yourself scrambling for words.
“I-I-I don’t, I—” Your throat feels tight, and it’s a struggle to make even the smallest sound. “I love Jacob.” He’s a sweet boy—you know he has no idea what a monster Andy is, what he’s capable of.
🥀
“Do you? Because you dropped our son like trash.” He hisses, poking a hard finger into your shoulder as you press yourself against the dresser, naked and afraid. “You’re hurting us, Honey. You’re hurting everyone.” He wants to say more, you know, but as his mouth opens again, an ear-splitting cry through the baby monitor makes the both of you jump. Your chest seizes.
“Dove, Dove—” Andy’s firm hand on your shoulder stops you.
“You stay here. You’re a mess, you’re not even dressed.” He sighs, shaking his head as if he hadn’t just spent the better part of an hour yelling directly into your face. He gets up, dusting off his knees.
“Please, Andy,” you whimper. “Please, I’ll do anything, just, just let me see her, please?” You reach for his pant leg with trembling fingers. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll be s-so good, I promise—” He sighs again, deeply, and shakes you off.
“Finally, something out of your mouth I can trust.” He picks up the monitor. “Get up and put some clothes on. Maybe when you’re presentable.” The door closes with a cold finality, and before you realize it you’re sobbing, dry heaving as you curl into a ball on the rug.
I deserve this.
I did this.
—
The secretary at the front desk of Brighton and Brighton’s Country Homes looks at Ari nervously.
“And you’re… you’re with the cops?” She asks, a flicker of doubt crossing her plastic features. He hasn’t had to use the badge in a long time, not in his current line of work, but the fake is still good, especially on people who’ve never seen the real thing. He flashes it from the inside of his jacket, and her over-full lips press together as she swallows audibly.
“I’ll get Mr. Brighton.”
“Yes, why don’t you?” He leans against the desk, looming over her. It doesn’t feel good to intimidate her, but it is necessary. A week. It had taken him three horrible days to pick through the recent high-profile home sales in the state, cross referencing the names of the buyers and realtors with his growing list of Barber’s associates.
He’d dreamt of you every night this week, waking with a hole in his chest every morning. You’re alive—you have to be. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if you aren’t. Well, that isn’t strictly true. He knows what he’ll do—just not how. He knows he’ll make it hurt, though, make it slow the way he couldn’t do with Peter. Real slow. The secretary—her name tag says Elaine—gets up, heels clicking against the tile as she stalks into the office.
He doesn’t even wait for her to be out of sight before he climbs into the uncomfortable seat behind the desk, counting backwards from one-hundred. The appointment book in front of him is open, and he scans the names signed there beneath the big cursive IN. Eighty-one. He only has to go back three pages to find it—A. Barber, June 25th.
Seventy-five.
The pile of recent acquisitions takes him too long to sort through, he’s down to thirty when he finds it, the file with Andy’s name. He opens it to make sure, and the loopy scrawl of his signature is there at the bottom. For the first time in a week, Ari smiles. I’m coming Mouse.
He’s gone when Elaine comes back with a sweating and nervous Bill Brighton in tow, the realtor already practicing his lines. Ari sits in his car just outside, staring at the manila folder in his lap. It’s a six bedroom monstrosity five hours out into the exact middle of nowhere, according to the paper map he’d snatched from a gas station—he knows better than to have a phone with him, not now.
Not with what he plans to do.
It’s familiar, this feeling, these plans. He knows it shouldn’t be, shouldn’t feel this normal to study the blueprints of another man’s house. Shouldn’t feel this necessary. It’s better than thinking about what Andy’s doing to you, the punishment he knows is surely raining down on your head like fire from heaven. He can’t think about that.
His knuckles are still bloody from the last time he did, skinned and bruised and the deposit on the shitty motel room washed away down the drain with the blood. Sorry about the wall. You’re alive—you have to be.
You have to be.
He knows you don’t think Andy will do it, not really—no one ever does. His hands tighten on the file. No one thinks they’re capable of taking a life until s they do it, watching someone else’s eyes go dark and cold because you have to know they can’t hurt anyone else—he hopes you never have to know that feeling. He’d made his peace with it when he’d joined the military, made his peace with it the first time he’d fired his gun close range, the first time he’d seen blood spray in the air—it was darker than he’d thought it would be. Thicker. He doesn’t want you to carry that.
Ari’s strong enough to carry it for the both of you.
When he gets back to the motel room, a two hour drive back out of Pittsburgh, he looks up the directions. It’s complicated to reach, Andy’s little love-nest, like he doesn’t want to be found. He probably doesn’t, not that it matters to Ari. He studies the maps for hours, slowly memorizing each turn. And then a few hours more going over the back roads, all the alternate ways—all the ways that aren’t ways at all, the surrounding woods and valleys.
Just in case.
I promise. I’m coming.
Your story isn’t on the news anymore, and Ari knows it’s because Andy’s made it so—it isn’t hard to get the news stations to run what you want when you’ve defended two dozen congressmen, senators, billionaires. He wants it to be quiet when you’re “found”, slip it in beneath all the other noise.
It’s hard to sleep, lying in the uncomfortable motel bed, the neon sign outside flashing brightly into his room despite the closed curtains. Truth be told, he’d thought this part of him—the part that goes soft at the sight of you, and Dove—had been carved out, laid to rest with Peter. It’s been a shock to feel it bloom again. It’s been a long time since he actually wanted something, wanted someone, instead of just… floating. He supposes that’s what he’s been doing, just… floating. But you, you anchor him. And maybe, just maybe, he anchors you, too.
—
Andy holds dove in his lap, bouncing her on one knee as he juggles feeding both her and himself. Your own dinner is long cold, your hands tangled in the napkin on your lap. You twist it until the fabric creaks, listening to her fuss and whine. Dove reaches chubby little hands towards you, pushing the brightly colored spoon of mashed pumpkin away again.
“Dovey you have to eat,” Andy says sternly, repositioning her on his lap.
He still hasn’t let you hold her. You’d thought that just being in the same room, being able to see her might be good enough but it isn’t. Your chest tightens and aches as she begins to wail, and you raise a hand to your chest, fingers curling into your shirt. Except seeing your daughter as she cries for you is a more acute form of torture than you ever could have imagined.
“Andy…” His name escapes your lips without you meaning for it to, and his head snaps up, lips pressed into a thin line. “I—I could, I could help,” Your voice is barely more than a whisper.
“No.” Your eyes fill with desperate, angry tears as your gaze drops to your plate. You hear Andy rise from the table, the clink of his silverware as he picks up his plate. “You stay here.” Obediently you stare at the table until he leaves the dining room, the weight of his unspoken reprimand resting on you so heavily you fear you might collapse.
You manage to swallow a few mouthfuls of steak, the mashed potatoes like cold glue on your tongue. When Andy comes back, it’s without Dove.
“Went down like a light after she ate her dinner,” he says as he settles back into his chair. “You should finish your food, Honey.” You force yourself to clean your plate while he watches. “You know, I was thinking. You’ve been so good, Honey. Would you like to sleep in the big bed? With me?” Your stomach goes cold, twisting with a violence that threatens to bring up the meal you’d only just finished forcing down.
No.
Andy blinks, cocking his head expectantly.
“I, I, I don’t know, Andy, I—”
“I’m your husband, aren’t I?” He drawls. “You missed me, didn’t you?” You try to answer, to speak, but there aren’t any words to reach for. “Or was that a lie?”
“I missed you.” The words feel clumsy in your mouth.
“Then get upstairs, Honey.” He leans over to brush his lips against your cheek. “Let me make you feel good.” You nearly sob, but you swallow it, stamping it down. Can I do that for you, Sweetheart? Can I make you feel good? You look down at your hands.
“Okay.”
Every step towards the bedroom feels like penance. It’s stupid to feel like you’re doing something wrong when Ari’s probably half the world away. He’s safe, safe from Andy, safe from you.
Neither of you can hurt him now.
The thought of Andy’s hands on your skin makes it crawl, gooseflesh rising on your neck as you drag yourself into the shower. Maybe if you make it take as long as possible he’ll forget, fall asleep. You pray to the ever silent sky that he does, that he will let you keep the very last thing you remember of Ari.
His gentle hands.
You stand under the water until Andy knocks. “You okay in there Honeybee?”
“Y-yes!”
You rub lotion into your skin, donning the little silk nightgown he’d left out for you while you await the inevitable. You close your eyes, imagining, remembering. His touch, his warmth, his voice. These are precious to you, beyond measure. So after a moment, you lock them away inside your head, folding the memories neatly and setting them somewhere safe.
Andy is waiting for you on the bed, a warm smile on his face.
“You’re so beautiful, Honey. No need to be shy.” He holds out his hand, beckoning you closer. He hasn’t touched you since you’ve gotten here, the hungry, wanting need you remember gloriously absent. He’s jealous of Ari, that much you know for sure, and you wonder if this is even about you at all—or just ownership. Andy hums, weighing your breasts in his hands through the slinky, thin fabric of your nightgown. They’re bigger since Dove, heavier. This thing Andy’d picked would’ve fit perfectly before, but now it’s short—tight.
“The baby looks so good on you, Honeybee,” he mumbles, cupping your ass with one hand as he rucks up the dress with the other, pushing it up over the curve of your hip. “Let’s put another in there, hmm?” You go cold, stiffening as he massages the cheeks of your ass with both hands, pressing heated kisses against your chest. “Fuck, Honey I missed you.”
The kisses he trails up the side of your neck make your skin crawl, and he chuckles at your shiver.
“Missed me too, didn’t you?”
Thank God.
“Y-yes.” Your body doesn’t even feel like it belongs to you as Andy touches and pulls and caresses, like you’re watching his hands on someone else. He worms his hand between your thighs, sliding his finger along the thin cotton covering your cunt. You aren’t wet, for once your body and mind are in agreement—this isn’t what you want.
“You’re so stiff, Honeybee.” Andy presses a hungry kiss to the side of your throat. “Just relax for me.”
You haven’t heard the sound of the doorbell before, a deep, almost groaning sound that travels through the house with enough force to make you jump. Nervously, you play with the hem of your nightgown as Andy looks up with an irritated huff.
“It’s okay, Honey. Just security.” He cups your breast again through the silky fabric, flicking his thumb across your half-hard nipple. “You stay right here.”
He shrugs into his discarded shirt but doesn’t waste time buttoning it before heading out of the bedroom, into the hallway and out of sight. You watch him go, nervousness building in your gut. You’ve been here just over a week now, and not once have the rotating staff of security guards rung the bell. Fear makes your heart into a hummingbird in your chest, beating a mile a moment as the seconds stretch into long minutes, and Andy doesn’t return. Something’s wrong—something’s very wrong.
No sooner than you think it your fears are confirmed by the gunshot, so loud and sharp that splits the night cleanly into two pieces—before and after. Fear makes everything sharp, the voices in the hall, Dove’s piercing wails. Andy’s rules be damned, you’re tugging on the doorknob to the adjacent room desperately before you’re even conscious of it.
“Dove, Dove—“ your baby is in the bassinet you’d picked out for her, the cream and yellow one Andy had protested, but bought. She’s lying on her blanket, squalling, her little cheeks blotchy and fists raised. You hesitate as you reach for her, Andy’s warnings ringing in your ears before you shake them away. “I’m here, Dovey, I’m right here.” You sob as you press her against your chest, breathing in the scent of her hair, tears leaking down your cheeks.
Holding her again almost makes you want to sink to your knees. It has been torture, being in the same rooms as her, unable to touch or hold her. There’s another gunshot, this time closer to the house. Dove begins to cry again, and you cradle her close, hushing her.
“Do you love your daughter?” That was one of the first questions Irene had ever asked you. The email thread is long since deleted, but you remember it with perfect clarity. “Because if you love her, you will leave.” The sounds of the chaos outside filter in through the closed windows, gunshots and shouting.
“You’ll remember what’s important. You’ll fight past the fear. You’ll leave.”
I got all these ideas for readers for the Mob AU….and I forgot to figure out how to differentiate them 😬
Please let me know your thoughts! I’ve added some info about each below the cut 😊
Mrs. Drysdale (aka Ransom’s reader): I know what you’re thinking, can’t we just refer to her as Mrs. Drysdale? Well, maybe. My problem is some of the readers are married to their CE babes and some are not. And to me it feels weird to have some of them referred to as Mrs. Insert Last Name and the rest not.
Ari’s reader: Ari and his reader are married with children. She’s fed up with basically being a single parent until whenever Ari decides to come home. She wants out of the life, and something better for her children.
Frank’s reader: Dealing with the fallout from Franks poor decision making will lead this reader to have to make some tough choices down the line. Puts up with Frank’s nonsense, loves Mary as if she were her own.
Steve’s reader: FBI Agent and partner to Steve at work, she’s always had feelings for him, but never wanted to act on them. She made a big mistake that nearly cost her own life and severely injured Steve in their last case. She’s now along for the ride in Steve’s infiltration of the Thrombey family.
Andy’s reader: a personal assistant to Andy, and a self made private investigator, Andy’s reader likes the current situation they have going. The only problem? She’s got her finger in many pies.
Lloyd’s reader: as Lloyd doesn’t do well with attachment, he looks to get his kicks with one of the prostitutes who used to work for the family. She pretty much only works for Lloyd now, and he certainly doesn’t mind having her at his beck and call.
