unsaid feeling's

While he and Jacob watched some sports, you excused yourself to get some homework done. You knew you'd have a chance to spend alone time with Andy later tonight, but you couldn't help but grow impatient.

He almost choked on his beer reading the first text you sent, quickly glancing at his son, hoping he didn't notice.

He almost choked on his beer reading the first text you sent, quickly glancing at his son, hoping he didn't notice.

It was you telling him exactly what you were planning to do with him later. He did his best to ignore you, to keep from shifting in his seat–until you followed up with some pictures you knew would do the trick when he didn't respond.

He finally snapped and told you to call him so he could lie and say it was a work call he needed to take upstairs.

He wasted no time pulling you into his bathroom to give you what you wanted.

“Look at you–”

He forces you to look at yourself in the mirror in front of you–pants pulled down around your thighs, hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, tears welling in your eyes from trying desperately to hold back.

“Acting like a slut will get you fucked like one.”

“Andy, please,” you gasp as his hand drops to your neck. “I'm gonna–”

You can't finish your sentence before your eyes are rolling back, a harsh snap of his hips pushing you over the edge. His fingers press against the sides of your throat to keep you quiet as he cums too, letting out his own muffled moan against your shoulder.

“Good girl.” His voice is hushed, hand loosening its grip on your neck and falling to your waist so he can hold you properly for just a second.

You've barely caught your breath when you feel him pull away from you though, quickly cleaning himself up enough to get back downstairs.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he says, patting your back as he leans toward you for a quick kiss. “You good?”

Nodding, you kiss him back, almost hesitantly, the realization that he's gonna leave you to clean up and calm down yourself slowly hitting you.

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Andy gets increasingly more worried with each minute that passes since he left you in his room. He doesn't want to bring attention to anything by checking on you though, so he and Jacob start to eat dinner without you.

“Where’s Y/N?”

He wants to kick himself for asking. Why would Jacob know?

“Uh, not sure,” he answers, looking at his phone. “When she gets doing assignments, she doesn't stop. Maybe she had a lot. I'll text her.”

Andy chuckles at that. “You can't walk up a flight of stairs and talk to her in person?”

“Don't wanna bug her,” he shrugs.

You give him an abrupt “no” when you get his text asking if you're going to eat, and you're relieved when he leaves it at that.

Back downstairs, Andy is anything but relieved though. The past half hour plays over and over in his head, each moment dissected as he tries to figure out if he did something wrong.

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Eventually hearing footsteps coming down the hall toward his bedroom, you sink further beneath the blankets you're cuddled up under.

The door opening doesn't faze you, you know it's Andy.

“What are you doing?” A look of concern floods his eyes as they fall on you curled up in his bed.

You don't know if you're trying to convince him or yourself with how quickly you answer, “Nothing.”

Your eyes stay set on your phone in your hand though.

“Okay, uh, Jacob went out…”

“Yeah, he texted me,” you shrug.

“You guys and your texting when you're in the same house,” he snorts. When he doesn't get a similar reaction from you, he knows something’s up. “What's wrong?”

“Sorry–” Your voice cracks and you finally set your phone down.

He swiftly moves to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. “For what?”

“I didn't like it,” you admit. You roll your eyes, not knowing how to even say it. “What we did in the bathroom.”

“Shit, I…” He knew it. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you quickly assure him. “No, it's stupid. I like when you're rough with me and I know I asked for it, but you usually, like… hold me afterward, I guess. And I like that.”

His heart breaks. You're still figuring this part of your relationship out with each other, but he feels like shit for making you feel clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh my god.” He carefully lays next to you, a burst of cold air hitting you when he lifts the blankets to get under them with you. He pulls you into his arms though, his body heat making up for it. “That's not stupid. I'm sorry. I should have noticed–”

“You didn't do anything wrong. I should have safe-worded or, or said something when I realized– But it was after the fact. I just didn't like being left alone right away.”

“Shh, shh,” he softly whispers, trying to get you to calm down, stop your over explaining. “We know now. It's okay.”

All you do is nod against his chest, but he can feel you relax a bit too.

“Gonna hold you the rest of night, okay? I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. I’m okay,” you promise, laughing a little. You hug him tighter though. “Thank you.”

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