Haven
Summary: Andy makes your house a home.
Pairing: Andy Barber x female reader
Word count: 954
🔞Over 18s only, minors dni! 🔞 I do not give permission for my work to be republished, reposted, or translated. Reblogs and comments are heartily welcome and greatly appreciated!
Warnings: Minor angst at the start. Making out. Grinding over clothes. Pretty mild.
Unbetad, all mistakes my own
A/N: Dedicated to @wayward-blonde. This starts out with minor angst but gets better more saccharine sweeter as it goes along I promise!!! It’s very sappy and silly and but I hope it lightens your load a little bit, friend. Much love.
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You come through the door, ready to collapse. Like Alexander, you’d had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad, absolutely shit day. On top of a rather shitty week.
You stand in the doorway, catching your breath, relishing being home, your sanctuary, and able to close out the world.
In that moment you recalled Andy wasn’t even home to give you a hug. He was up in Boston proper, the last night of working on a case that had parted you for the week. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You sobbed, dumped your purse and slipped off your coat.
You sobbed while preparing your microwaved meal and pouring yourself a glass of wine to go with it. You sobbed while eating it and through the episode of Queer Eye you put on. Nothing could cheer you up, and your usual haven of home felt, absent of Andy for the night, like another part of the world that had been treating you poorly all week. You’re exhausted, and think maybe you’re finally all cried out. It’s only 8pm, but after dinner you slink upstairs and prepare yourself for bed, thinking your cozy duvet might be an ok enough substitute for snuggling in absence of your loving man while you have your nightly video chat.
A text from Andy. You sniffle and peek at your phone: Can’t video chat tonight, honey, We’re working late. Sorry. :( Miss you. Love you.
And you’re sobbing again, and hurl your phone across the room before crying yourself to sleep.
—
“Honey?” A hand strokes your face, waking you from your restless sleep.
Andy is seated on the side of the bed, stroking your face. His usually impeccable suit looks rumpled but he’s here and you nearly fall over scrambling upright to fling yourself into his arms, whispering his name.
He “oofs” at your forceful bodily contact, and squeezes you tight. His solidity, physical and emotional, overwhelms you. And so you just cried into his suit jacket.
“Hey, hey, it’s OK, what’s up?” He pulls back to look at you, and the little furrow in his beautiful brow nearly starts you crying anew.
You blubber, feeling like a toddler but not caring, spilling your guts about the million tiny things that had gone wrong while he was away, and about the big work project that had overrun and decimated your capacity for anything else. “And I–I fucking missed you! And I felt so silly about it. It’s only a week. A work week!”
You pause. “Wait, I thought you were coming back tomorrow? But you’re here.”
“Very well observed, honey,” Andy teases, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Well, we finished early and I wanted to surprise you. God, I missed you.” Andy squeezes you extra tight for emphasis, and a laugh bubbles out of you.
“Can’t breathe, Andy!” You relish it though – it felt like a long time since you’d laughed.
You wriggle back to stay in the ring of Andy’s arms but look at his face. His blue eyes are mirthful now he’s made you laugh, and his happiness makes you almost want to cry again. It also brings to mind something else.
“I missed you. All of you. Talking to you too, thinking I wasn’t gonna get to tonight, made me sad but–” you bite your lip and run a hand over his shoulder to his heart. His heart, beating under a very firm and delectable chest. Andy inhales sharply as you stroke his collarbone over his crisp white shirt and move to straddle his lap. “I wanna feel you.”
“You’ve been in the wars, huh, honey?” Andy says, rubbing your back and cupping your ass to scooch you closer in his lap. “My girl shouldn’t have so much to worry about, hm?”
He leans in and kisses you softly, cupping your face tenderly while still soothingly rubbing your back.
You whimper and relax into the kiss, deepening it and press your tongue into his plush lips.
You pull away and watch Andy’s flushing pink cheeks and the fluttering of his long eyelashes as he slowly opens his eyes. He hums happily. “Hey, hon.”
“Hi. You smell good.”
“Same to you,” Andy draws his nose up your neck and you shiver. He kisses under your jaw. “Mm, taste good too.”
“Andy,” you all but whimper, your body alight with tingles from his gentle kisses. “Stop teasing.”
He draws his nose along your throat and presses a kiss to other side of your neck. “But why? It’s so fun, honey.”
You clasp your hands behind his neck in response and whimper when he opens his mouth and laps gentle at your jaw.
“See, you make noises like that,” Andy grips your ass tighter, grinding you down on to his hardening cock. “Where’s my incentive to stop?”
“Need you, please,” and your voice breaks a bit and Andy pulls away.
“I’m here. No more teasing. Not what you need, is it?”
You shake your head and breathe a sigh of relief.
Andy kisses you again, easing you back on to the bed and leaning over you. “Like this?”
“For a start,” you say, hooking a leg around him and arching beneath him. “Too dressed.”
“Me or you?” he says, rucking your shirt up and chaining kisses up your belly to your breasts, where he nuzzles for a moment, beard rasping across your chest pleasingly. You feel the day, hell, the whole damn crummy week draining away, all leached out of you by Andy’s love.
“Both,” you manage to exhale as Andy’s mouth works its way over to the part of your chest where your heart beats.