Summary: Two strangers meet in a crowded room. You can’t fight fate, but what if fate is fighting you?
There is something about Boston in springtime that always brings out the romantic in you. Maybe it was the beautiful greenery of the parks, trees blossoming; or the scent of freshly bloomed flowers that seemed to linger on the wind. This year, you suspected the heavy influence of the wedding industry, though always out in full force, garnering a premium with the nonstop swath of ceremonies between April to June.
You and your fellow bridesmaids learned this all too well whilst assisting your friend Jo as she planned her wedding. Unlike some brides, who would get cold feet or transform into a raging, demanding bridezilla, Jo remained level-headed, happy and eager to be married and begin her life with her future husband. As usual, she focused on the positive. “It’s not about the wedding. That’s just one day, and a big party where we get to celebrate. What I’m looking forward to is the marriage.”
Tonight, she glows radiantly with happiness as she struts her stuff on the dance floor. And why not? In two short weeks, she’d be marrying the love of her life.
Your fellow bridesmaids gathered around her, laughing, giggling, and drinking margaritas. Lacy had Becca and Mal in stitches, sharing a hilarious account of her new job in Quincy. Jules, shamelessly flirting with the bartender, seemed to have the man entranced, batting her eyes like a southern belle while tracing a fingertip around the lip of her mostly empty glass.
The pounding music echoed through your chest as you floated beside Jo, steering unwanted male attention away from the bride to be. A gigantic “Bride” tiara would be sufficient, but even with her added white ‘bride’ sash, men will be men, won’t they?
The limousine and its driver were outside on standby, ready to ferry your group to the next location. As the unofficial ‘Mom friend’, you’d committed to helping your friends with small favors for the evening. Jo requested your help steering away any ‘creepers’, something you took immense pleasure in. Especially when engaging in the art of confusion. Becca, Jo’s maid of honor, asked you to help her herd cats and keep your crew to a schedule. Lacy was moving closer to an amazing new job and planned to crash at your place tonight.
The alarm on your smartwatch vibrated, reminding you it was time to move on. You nodded to Becca, who was checking her phone and smiling–as usual, the two of you were in sync. Eager to proceed to your last stop—a concert at a jazz bar; you and Becca ushered your friends back to the entrance, giggling the entire way.
A gentle hand on your arm stopped you, spinning you around. Your heart skipped a beat. The man in front of you was everything you looked for in a guy. Tall, broad shouldered and well groomed, he filled out the cut of his dress shirt well. His with twinkling blue eyes mesmerized you. He leaned in, rapidly whispering into your ear. “I’m sorry to spring this on you, but my ex is heading this way and… can I kiss you?”
Your body was writing checks that your mind wasn’t yet ready to cash. Before you had a moment to think, you were nodding and his lips collided with yours. The handsome stranger kissed you the way you wanted to be kissed for the rest of your life. His full lips were soft, tasting of whiskey and promises as he cradled you to his chest. Your hands carded through his thick hair, tugging gently as he pressed you against a nearby pillar.
“Tick Tock, Momma,” Becca hollered at you. “We’ve gotta go!”
Shit. This wasn’t you. You weren’t normally one to make out with random men in bars. You’d send them away, deflecting with your rapier wit, but something about this hunk bypassed… or perhaps disabled your defenses.
Breaking the kiss, you blinked owlishly into his lust blown eyes and you shook your head as Lacy took your hand, pulling you to the entrance. “I’m sorry. My ride’s leaving!”
His full brows furrowed, and his kiss-swollen lips fell open in shock at your sudden departure. The door closed behind you before he could say a word.
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Summary: Your subtle efforts to seduce your professor haven’t gone unnoticed.
Warnings:petnames (sweetheart, honey), sir kink, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (reader is early 20s), smut; oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.
Author’s note: Professor!Andy has been on my mind for a while now that I just had to write for him! I hope I’ve shown two sides to him in this, the dominating ‘I know what I want and I’m going to have it’ side and the sweet ‘let me take care of you’ side. (word count: 2.3k)
Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader Word count: Almost 1.8k Summary: You brush off praise, even if you like hearing it. Andy wants to put a stop to that. Warnings: Explicit sexual content, soft smut, feels, praise kink, Andy Barber (he is a warning)
18+ Please!!! This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own.
I’m soft for this man. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Enjoy, lovelies!
The first time Andy praised you, over something extremely small, you didn’t know how to react. It wasn’t the sort of compliment where you could say “you, too” and move on. And it wasn’t over phone or text where you could easily deflect it. You felt cornered and the only thing you could manage was an uncomfortable giggle.
Navy I don’t know how you always manage to put so much heart into your fics, but it’s honestly a work of art. The tenderness Andy shows here while being fiercely determined to get his point across is balanced superbly and like you said ’One praise at a time’ definitely seems to be the way to go.
That said though, I think my favorite part was when she noticed he had a thing for being called sir and decided shed have to explore it later. Proof the man definitely needed to distract her. Absolutely love how these two compliment each other. You really do manage to make the sweet stuff so enjoyable.
You met Andy at the hospital one day when you had been there to visit a friend. She’d just had a baby and you had brought gifts for the baby and your friend. As you walked by a private waiting room, you could hear sobbing from the other side of the door. Normally, you would have just kept walking but there was something that made you stop. Maybe it was the amount of pain you could hear as the man cried.
You softly knocked on the door and waited until you were told to come in.
The man sitting on one of the couches was wiping his cheeks, trying to hide the fact that he had just been crying his eyes out. You closed the door back behind you.
“I’m sorry.” You suddenly felt awkward and you regretted coming in.
“Do I know you?”
You shook your head no. “I was walking by the door and I heard someone crying. You seemed to be in pain and… I couldn’t just keep walking.” You looked at him. “Do you need anything? Can I go get anyone for you?”
Andy stared at you, unsure of what you were really doing there. Surely you knew who he was. By now everyone did. But there was something in your eyes. Sincerity. You weren’t there to pry, you weren’t there to try and get information to sell to the media. You heard a human being in pain and you stopped for them. Not knowing, or caring, who it was.
“Co- Could you stay?”
You nodded and walked over to the other couch, sitting down as you faced him.
You told him your name and waited for him to do the same.
“You don’t know who I am?” He asked, genuinely surprised.
You chewed on your lip nervously. “I’m sorry. Are you famous? I’m so out of it with pop culture.”
Andy laughed. A genuine laugh. He almost jumped at the sound he let out, he hadn’t heard himself laugh in so long.
“I’m Andy. Andy Barber.”
The name did sound familiar. You were racking your brain, trying to figure out where you had heard it. Then it hit you.
Andy Barber, father of Jacob Barber who was accused of murdering his classmate before his mom crashed the car into a brick wall.
Andy could tell the exact moment you had figured out who he was.
“Oh, Andy. I’m so sorry.” You reached over to him to squeeze his hand, a small comforting gesture.
You don’t know how long you sat in the waiting room, holding Andy’s hand as he spoke and cried.
