#law school with andie

[ssahoodrathotchner]

hotch’s brother being 25 and turning down law school to move to new york instead and work at a restaurant is so relatable

[this-broken-band-girl]

yknow what asking for help is important and can make things better

[oh-my-damn]

I'm at a party at the law firm I work at and every single man in here is making me think of Andy

[katierosefun]

oh my god do you ever have such a day that you're too tired to even order takeout

[alexiraphale]

-rant-

(ok to comment but dont rb)

[cissyenthusiast010155]

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[ilovefandoms102]

Forbidden

Pairing: Professor!Andy Barber x Plus Size Reader

Summary: It’s your first year of law school and your Criminal Law Professor isn’t anything like you expected…

Note: Huge thank you to @lerrieslovechild for helping me with this!

Warnings🛑: professor!andy, age gap(reader is in her 20s), smut(slight dubcon, dom/sub aspects, unprotected vaginal sex, overstim, spanking)

Part 2

For as long as you could remember, you’d always wanted to be a lawyer. Specifically one that deals with family matters. See, you didn’t grow up in the best environment. Both your parents were drug addicts and were deep into deals with local gangs, mafias, the whole hog. Since you lived in a shitty area, no one looked twice at how your parents treated you.

One thing they could give you was making sure you went and stayed in school. The time your mother showed any kind of parental concern was when it came to your grades. You’re not sure where you got the brains from and had no one to ask since both sets of grandparents were dead.

From a young age, you knew the only way of getting away from this life was busting your ass in school. Your teachers always doted on you, was the top of all your classes, and got a full ride to the best law school. Once you turned 18, you packed your shit and cashed out every single penny of your savings so your parents couldn’t get their dirty hands on it.

You passed your undergrad with flying colors, moving you on to the first year of law school. No surprise, it was hard, but your favorite class had to be Criminal Law. You went in everyday excited to learn, and it wasn’t just because of your super hot Professor.

Professor Barber was probably the hottest man you’d ever seen, not even exaggerating. From his beard, to his huge beefy arms, luscious thighs and even more amazing ass, you were mesmerized. You didn’t let that get in the way of your studies however as I’m sure others did. You actually cared about what you were studying, maybe partly because of the life you had, but you also knew this would be important for your future career.

Your boyfriend, Chad, hated that you had his class. He was in his second year of law school and also had Professor Barber during his first year. Chad also hated how the Professor seemed to make you his star pupil which was a load of shit. You never even spoke to your Professor unless it was answering questions in class or when he handed back your essays and complimented yours. Professor Barber also knew how badly you wanted to be a family lawyer and set you up with some of his connections, another thing Chad hated.

Chad and you had been together almost a year now, but things started changing once he found out your class schedule. He’d become extremely critical of everything you did and became hateful if you couldn’t hang out. Before then, he was really sweet and outgoing. He treated you right, the sex wasn’t the best but he tried, sometimes he’d send you your favorite flowers.

Midterms were coming up and Professor Barber assigned a big reading along with a 40 plus page paper. It wasn’t anything like he’d assigned before, so all your focus was in to this assignment along with the 10 other things from other classes. That’s when it happened…

Andy stared at your paper, confusion flooding his brain as this wasn’t anywhere near acceptable. Your papers were always his favorite to read, you truly had a gift for the world of law. He’d never seen anything like it in his 5 years of teaching. But this…something was wrong and he was determined to find out.

He couldn’t help but take an interest in you. Aside from the phenomenal work you turned in, you were the smartest one in his class. The way you answered questions and actually paid attention to the material made him feel something he’d never felt. He couldn’t lie about how your beauty struck him every time you walked in his class. He tried not to, but Andy couldn’t help sometimes to stare at your curves or think how it would feel to have you under him while he held on to said curves.

It was so wrong he knew, but he couldn’t help it. The passion that you expressed drew him in like a drug. So when he saw you come in the next day, tear stained cheeks, he saw red. It took all his control to not walk up to you and pull you in his arms. Instead he went through the motions of teaching but noticed you weren’t as engaged as normal.

After class, he stopped you and your heart sunk to your stomach.

“Yes Professor?” you asked timidly, looking up at the man towering over you.

“Do you have a class right now?” Andy questioned.

“No sir, I have a gap.” you murmured, trying to look anywhere but his blue eyes.

“Come to my office, I’d like to discuss your paper.” he said with a tip of his head towards the hallway.

He grabbed his bag, gesturing for you to follow him. You nodded and walked behind him, your mind only on what happened with you and Chad.

“Are you taking his cock y/n?!” Chad roared, his finger in your face.

“No! Why would you even say that?!” you screamed back, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“That’s all you fucking do is talk about Professor fucking Barber! Every time I call you you’re doing work for his fucking class! All your free time is spent with him and not me your fucking boyfriend!” he seethed, the anger in his voice terrifying you.

You cowered back until you hit a wall, Chad charging into your space.

“Stop it Chad!” you sobbed.

“Stop crying like a little bitch and admit what you did!” Chad growled.

“Get out!” you screamed, shoving his chest back.

After some more screaming, Chad finally stormed out of your apartment. You laid in bed that night crying yourself to sleep.

“Y/n? Honey?” Andy shook your shoulder lightly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry Professor,” you mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Take a seat.” Andy offered, pointing to the seat across from his desk.

You sat of course, laying your bag on the empty one next to you. Nerves bundled in your stomach as you looked at the handsome man. He stood in front of you, leaning back against his desk. He looked so damn sexy, yet casual if drove you nuts.

“Is everything ok? This paper…well y/n this is nothing like you usually write so I’m concerned.” Andy started gently.

“I-” you started, your voice croaking as tears resurfaced.

“Sweetheart, you can tell me. You’re safe here, it’s just us.” Andy whispered, daringly moving a stray hair from your cheek.

“I’m sorry Professor Barber, I just…I know it’s not my best. I’ve had a really bad past few nights it just-I-I know it’s not an excuse.” you blubbered, crying right in front of your Professor.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, it’s alright honey. It’s alright. Tell you what, I’ll help you. Come to my place after your classes, then you can turn it in again, but that’ll be your final grade.” Andy said, your eyes widening.

His place?

Your Professor-your very, very HOT Professor wanted you to come over?

“I-I’m not sure.” you sniffled, glancing up into his eyes.

“I’ll give you my number, text you my address.” he whipped his phone out, handing it to you.

Stupidly, you typed your number in. Were you really about to do this? Logically, you could use his help, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to go to his place. What you weren’t prepared for is the moment everything would change…

You knocked on his door, biting your lip as you thought about running back to your car and going home. At the same time, you wondered what this night with your teacher would bring. He opened the door, his sexiness upping by a gazillion since he’d changed out of his usual suit into jeans and a long sleeved tshirt, a chain hanging from his neck that you wanted to grab on to. A chain you could see dangling above you as he fucked you silly.

“Hey sweetheart, come on in.” Professor Barber smiled, stepping aside to give you room to walk in.

“Thanks again for helping me Professor-” you started.

“Andy, call me Andy outside of school baby.” he said softly.

Andy…

Baby…

“Ok, um Andy. Thank you for giving me another chance and offering to help.” you smiled a bit, getting out your laptop from your backpack.

After hours of writing, Andy looking over it, editing and talking all things Crim Law, you were finally able to resubmit your paper. Andy deemed it perfect and that you two should celebrate with a drink. He pulled out his finest whiskey, pouring you both a shot.

“To the amazing y/n.” he grinned, clanking his glass to yours.

“Not sure about that.” you giggled, throwing the shot back.

Andy set about making you an actual drink, throwing that smirk at you that made your clit throb. God you wanted him so bad, and the alcohol didn’t help. Especially when he handed it to you and you clumsily spilt it all over yourself.

“Oh shit, you ok?” Andy asked, grabbing some towels to try and save your drenched clothes.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry.” you whispered, embarrassment flooding through.

“Baby, nothing to be sorry for. You can borrow something of mine and I’ll throw your stuff in the wash.” he offered, taking your hand and guiding you to his room.

Andy handed you one of his shirts, showing you to the bathroom while you changed. He hoped like fuck he wasn’t messing this up, the itch to touch you was driving him insane. Watching you work made his cock achingly hard, he almost had to excuse himself so he could jack off to the dirty thoughts he had in his mind.

He stopped breathing when you walked out, swallowed up in his shirt. All his control went out the window as he prowled to you, picked you up, and tossed you on his bed. A startled shriek escaped as you landed roughly, gulping when Andy pulled his shirt off. His jeans went next before he finally put a knee in the bed, crawling up to you.

“Andy-” you breathed, putting your hand to his chest.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” he growled, heat soaring through your body as you stared up at the beautiful man.

When you didn’t answer, Andy took that and slammed his lips to yours. You couldn’t control the whimper that flew out as you tangled your tongue with his, your hands taking that time to explore the muscle and ridges of his back.

“Fuck, really wanna eat you baby but we’ll have to save that for later.” Andy grunted, yanking his shirt off you.

“Later?” you squeaked, shivering when he nodded his head.

You didn’t have time to even think about being exposed to him, you were so hot and bothered and extremely tuned the fuck on. Sitting up, you threw your bra off while Andy took care of your panties.

Andy yanked you down to the end of the bed, spread your legs, and viscously thrusted inside you. The pain of his cock shot through you yet it felt so fucking good, your back arched from the bed as a pathetic moan rang out into his room.

“Christ baby, so fuckin’ perfect. Look at you, so wet and fucked out already.” he smirked while savagely slamming into you.

“Andy!” you squealed, pleasure spiking way to fast, faster than you’d ever felt.

You could feel it coming, you recognized the feeling yet you’d only ever been able to do it to yourself. This would be your first orgasm during sex, and your Professor was about to give it to you in a way you’d never forget.

“You gonna cum already sweetheart? We just got started.” Andy grinned, holding your hips tighter as he pounded in faster.

“An-Andy I-I’m gonna-” you gasped as your whole body tightened, your orgasm sweeping over you.

Andy smiled menacingly as he watched you, the most beautiful woman lose it taking his cock. He didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon either as he flipped you over, smacking your ass harshly as he pulled you up to your knees.

“All mine now baby, my little slut to do whatever I want with.” he growled, laying another smack to your ass.

You whined against the sheets, shakily pushing up on your hands as you looked over your shoulder. Andy stared into your eyes as he stuffed his cock back into you, watching your eyes roll back as your head fell forward. He reached around, finding your clit and rubbing just as harshly as he hammered into your sore pussy.

“Andy, it’s too much!” you sobbed, another orgasm crashing over.

“Mmmm I know my baby can take it.” he hummed, continuing his movements while you could only sit there and take it.

Orgasm after orgasm, your last one with you on your back with your legs over Andy’s shoulders when he finally let go and planted himself to the root. You were so gone with pleasure you didn’t get to watch, and you secretly hoped there would be a time you could.

Andy was careful with his baby, cleaning her up and tucking her into his side. The two of you shared lots of gentle kisses until you passed out with your head on his chest. Andy finally felt like he’d found the person he’d been looking for, and he was going to do whatever it took to keep you.

[rainydayandmondays]

Thanksgiving Potluck

Summary: It’s time for the annual Thanksgiving potluck at work. Andy wants to make sure that he brings something special for you. You worked so hard, you deserve it.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, slight non-con

Author's Note: This came about after seeing a challenge to write a spicy Thanksgiving story. With the blessing of @georgiapeach30513 to use Andy Barber, this is what I got.

You had been planning the department’s Thanksgiving potluck for weeks. Running around, trying to get everyone to sign up to bring in something, even if it was just silverware and napkins. Andy never participated in these get-togethers. They were some weird kind of team building bullshit that he had never really subscribed to. Why play nice that one day, while all the remaining days everyone was trying to one up each other. Comparing their win-loss ratios like they were some goddamn a-list athletes. The fucking Red Sox, they were not.

But you had started earlier this year, right around Valentine’s day. He remembered your first day, you wore your pink button down shirt the first two buttons undone and your simple gold necklace nestled in the crux of your shirt. Your pencil skirt was knee-length but seemed to hug from your waist to your hips. He imagined his hands could skim down the sides of it as if it was a second skin. Then your sensible flats, all that up top and did you finish with three-inch heels? No, just sensible flats. The red nail polish on your fingers with a small heart decals on each ring finger, let him know that you enjoyed celebrating holidays.

He watched you as you grew into the department, quickly planting roots and befriending each person you met. You were easy to get along with, never really asked for much, but always willing to give. He had spent most of October working with you. You were assisting on the research for his latest case, spending nights in the conference room with law books spread out in front of the two of you and boxes of half-eaten Chinese in each of your laps. You had asked about his story as you took a break from the mind-numbing reading of passage after passage. He had given you the cliff-notes version. The “everything is pretty on the outside” story. Loving wife at home and kid excelling in school. It was easier that way. Even if he could tell you didn’t totally buy it, you let him lie.

You on the other hand, were open. Told him everything. You were a paralegal, barely starting out with dreams of making it to law school one day. A sick mother at home had meant your law school dreams had taken the back burner. Your mom had been part of the last of the baby boomers and their idealized version of marriage. She had taken care of the household, you and your dad. With her bedbound, your dad was completely lost. You took over and everything else had been pushed aside. No sign of any romantic partners or life outside of work and home. But the glint in your eye talking about becoming lawyer, let him know you had more to offer. You had told him how you had aced your LSATS, spent every night up until 4 in the morning studying for them. You were younger then, could handle the late nights. Shit, you are younger now. Just barely hitting your late 20s, if he had to guess.

After those nights spent over cold takeaway dinners and finishing the McDonald v. City of Newton case, he realized that family dinners with little more than polite conversation paled in contrast to those talks and stale fast food. He had tried to get you on his next case, but Neal had snatched you up the moment you were free. He remembered the apologetic look you gave him when he swung by your desk with some briefs to review.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. I’m already working with Mr. Longudice. But you can leave those here and I’ll look at them when I get a chance.” You fidgeted with your pen, twirling it between your fingers. It was your nervous tick, he had noticed it the first night when you had found a passage that completely derailed his current case plan.

He nodded and walked away, noticing Neal looking on from the corner smirking. Fuck him, he wasn’t going to just use you to improve his standing in the department. He watched as the month progressed and Neal worked you into the ground. He found you more and more frequently in the break room, loading up on coffee. You were up to four glasses a day. That couldn’t be good for you. Not if you still had to go home and get your mom ready for bed.

He started to stay later and later, just to make sure someone was still here when you left. Neal took most of his case work home, leaving you with a list of readings to cover and present the next day. He watched as you flipped through pages, making notes in the growing stack of legal pads, and only the small desk lamp providing any light. He told Laurie that he had a big case he was finishing up. It was easier to keep working at his desk, instead of making the trip home, only to end up in his study. It didn’t take much to persuade her. He was pretty sure she preferred having the time to herself, she barely moved when he finally made it home to bed.

One night, he had timed it just right to meet you at the elevators at the end of the night. He walked up behind you, watching as you raised your right foot to scratch at the back of your left calf. Your pencil skirt rippled around your hips as you ran your foot down your leg. The sensible flats, the same ones you had worn that first day skimmed down the back of your left calf and he wondered what it would be like to have you run those sensible flats down his pant leg. He could feel himself twitch in his dress pants. This was a first. Up until this point, he had found you endearing, wanting to help you as much as you helped everyone else. But now, right now, he could imagine grabbing onto your hips, dipping his head into the crook of you neck as he ground against your pert ass. He felt his cock harden that bit more at the image, starting to push against the fly of his dress pants. Using his overcoat from that day’s chilly morning, he covertly covered the front of his slacks.

It wasn’t until the chime announced the elevator’s arrival and you turned around, that he came out of his brief stupor. You smiled and waved him into the waiting lift. That smile did nothing to help him, he shoved his hand into pocket to discreetly adjust himself before walking towards you. Standing next to you, he could smell those last remnants of your perfume. Was it your perfume? It had been a 12 hour work day, maybe that smell was just you. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? You chatted with him, promising that you were going to get to those briefs he left. It would be the first thing you would work on the next day. He listened and tried his best to feign interest, but you then looked up at him as you made your promise to him, and all his brainpower was immediately redirected to willing away his excitement. His hand still in his pocket, it brushed against his tip and he cleared his throat to cover the small groan that wanted to escape.

Reaching the garage, he offered to walk you to your car. You had gestured to the nearly empty lot, but he only uttered, “Better to be safe.”

You only nodded, leading him to your small late 2000s sedan. Reaching the car, you opened the squeaky driver’s door and threw in your workbag and handbag, before easing yourself into the seat. Andy held the door open for you, only to close it once you had settled. Lowering your window, you gave him a smile, thanking him for the escort, “You really didn’t have to do that. You’re a good man, Mr. Barber.”

He leaned down into your window, sighing before bidding you a good night, “You get home safe, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to let the term of endearment slip, but your bashful smile was all it took to let him know he would be using that name again. Watching as you drove off, he made his way to his car. Popping the trunk on the Audi and throwing in the coat and briefcase, he hustled back to front of the car. Giving one more look around the lot, he noticed the security cam pointed at the opposite corner of the garage. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he only took a second to think through his next action. Closing his eyes, he remembered your big eyes looking up at him in the elevator, promising him something and his hand reached down to his pants.

He hadn’t gone down, no matter how he tried to calm himself, his coat had been his only saving grace, hiding away his reaction to you. Wrestling with his belt and button of his pants, he shoved his fly open, grabbing onto himself through his boxer briefs. He had already been steadily growing a nice wet spot on the front side of his briefs. Admittedly, bumping against himself with his hand in his pocket as he walked with you, might have gone a long way to making that spot. A couple of strokes, he reached in and pulled himself out.

Fuck, his hands were still cold from outside. It made his cock jump in his hold and he imagined your little hand taking him. You would apologize to him about your cold hands.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. Let me warm up my hands.”  The imaginary you whispered to him.

“Andy. Call me Andy, sweetheart.�� He mumbled into the empty car.

He spit into the palm of his hand, before wrapping it around himself. He could feel you next to him, cuddling as much as possible against him, reaching across the console. Your hand stoking up and down, making sure to twist around the head of his cock. He dribbled onto your fingers and you took your thumb rubbing it along the tip urging more to come out.

“Fuck sweetheart. That feels so good. You’re making me feel so good.” He grunted, his head falling back against the headrest.

He could hear you giggle at that, pressing hard against the vein on the underside of his cock, causing it to throb in your hold.

“Ah shit, sweetheart, squeeze me. I know your hand is so little but try my sweet girl. Come on, try for me.” You would hum at that, reaching between his legs and grabbing onto his sack. Rolling his balls in one hand as you steadily stroked him with the other, giving a squeeze to his cock before a squeeze to his sack.

“What do you need Andy? Whatever you need, I promise I’ll give it to you. Please Andy, tell me what you need.” The imaginary you nipped at his neck, murmuring another promise into his neck.

“Fuck me, sweet girl. Look at me, watch me cum for you. Just for you, sweet girl. Just for you…” He reached for the empty coffee tumbler in his console, placing it under the tip of his cock as he let go. Groaning he pulsed a couple times, continuing to stroke himself until he drained himself fully, because that’s what you would do. You would never do a half ass job.

Sitting back, he looked into the tumbler, seeing a layer of his cum coating the bottom of the cup. He hadn’t cum that hard in a long time. But he supposed a sexless marriage would leave him with a lot of pent-up energy. Remembering Laurie, he grabbed a couple of napkins from the glove compartment, wiping himself before shoving them into the tumbler. After buckling his pants, he started the car, backing out lot and turning onto the freeway for home.

That night had been a couple of weeks ago and he found himself hovering around your desk as much as possible, asking for help finding a text. He would time your coffee breaks and bump into you in the breakroom to make small talk with you. Each time he saw you, he tried to get you to smile. Even on your most stressful days, your shoulders hunch, he would make quick jabs at Neal which would inevitably cause a small giggle to pass your lips. He liked those times, the sound of your laugh would get stored away in his mind, coming out only in the shower as he painted the walls for you.

When you came by with the potluck sign up sheet earlier this week, you mentioned that there were still a few sides left that no one had chosen. Looking at the list, he saw the mashed potatoes listed and quickly jotted his name down beside it. He could probably get Laurie to make it for him. She had been in a better mood recently. Had waited up for him when he worked late. She would welcome him to bed and curl into his side, rubbing circles along his chest. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but if it meant not having to deal with a moody Laurie daily, he would take it.

The day of the potluck, he walked in finding most of the office milling about. It didn’t look like much would be getting done today. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, most had spent the last few days easing into their vacation. He looked at the conference room to see the spread already laid out, you were flitting around making sure everything was set up just right.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you jumped a little as he came up behind you, placing the dish of mashed potatoes in front of you.

“This will be perfect,” you took the dish moving it next to someone’s version of cornbread stuffing.

Turning around, you smiled at him. He thought about stepping back from you, but instead stood still. Reaching up to his arm, you grabbed his elbow and let out small breath, “I should let everyone know it’s ready.”

Slipping from around him, you walked out to the bull pin area, inviting everyone to come and dig in. He watched as everyone hustled to the conference room as he stepped out of the other door. Making his way towards his desk, he settled down, starting up his computer to check some late correspondence. He needed to spend time with you but not with everyone around. He placed his coffee tumbler on the clay coaster that Jacob had made him back in 4th grade. Sighing, he would wait to talk with you later.

The din in the conference room started to slowly die down and looking at the clock he saw that it was nearly half past 2. Most of the office should be heading out for their holiday and he figured, now would be his best bet. Grabbing his stuff together, he headed back out to find the room mostly empty. He couldn’t possibly have missed you, could he? Staring out to the row of desks, he spotted your workbag and handbag still on your desk. So, you were here, just not in the conference room.

Walking into the breakroom, he saw you at the sink scrapping off food into the trash and rinsing off dishes. Standing in the doorway, he watched this small glimpse into the domestic side of you and fuck, if it didn’t do something for him. Imagining coming home to you in the kitchen, prepping dinner for the two of you. You would still have your work clothes on but only now you would be barefoot. You would relax into him as he came up behind you, arms circling your waist.

He let out a quick breath, shaking himself from his daydream, before setting down his bag on the small table in the room. Coffee tumbler in hand, he approached you, quietly interrupting your dishwashing, “I bet you haven’t even made yourself a plate.”

Looking down, followed by a small bashful smile, you nodded, “There was so much to do.”

Grabbing onto his mashed potatoes, he looked for a spoon before starting to serve a portion onto a plate, “Come on. It’s your potluck too. You should get to enjoy it too. Besides, you got to at least try these mashed potatoes. A lot of effort went into making them. Go on now, sit down.”

Watching you sit down, he turns back to the counter, grabbing the gravy boat beside the sink. Taking the coffee tumbler, he had set down, he carefully removed the lid before emptying the contents into the remaining gravy. He stared as the viscous liquid drizzled out. With the spoon, he quickly mixed the gravy with the new ingredient together before pouring out the mixture on the mashed potatoes.

Turning back towards you, you sat at the table patiently waiting for him as he set the plate in front you. Quickly thanking him, you dug in, spooning a generous amount, gravy and all, onto your utensil and bringing to your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s really good Mr. Barber. Kind of earthy tasting. Are there mushrooms in the gravy?” You looked at him, a small amount of gravy stuck to the side of your mouth.

“Something like that,” he whispered, eyeing that speck of gravy and reaching out to clean it from your lip.

“Oh, I’m a mess,” your cheeks heated as you grabbed a napkin to clean the corner of your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, taking his thumb with gravy still on it and licking it clean, “Go ahead, finish it all.”

You followed his direction, cleaning your plate, your spoon making a sound as you laid it down. You had eaten it all. Enjoying it, if he were to go by the little happy noises you made as you ate. He knew you would love it.

“Here, let me put this up for you,” he took the plate and spoon back the sink and as he rinsed the plate, he asked over his shoulder, “Did you like it, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mr. Barber. I promise.”

He gulped, steadying himself against the counter at your promise.

“You know, what, why don’t you take the rest home? There’s still a little bit of mashed potatoes and gravy left,” he asked already reaching for the lid of the Tupperware Laurie had used when packing it this morning.

“I couldn’t do that. You made it, you should take it home,” you answered next to him, and he realized that you must have gotten up from the table.

Locking the lid on the dish, he turned to you, already handing over the remaining potatoes covered in his gravy, “I insist.”

He had made that gravy just for you. After stroking another one out in the front seat of his car in the courthouse parking garage, he had sprayed another load into his tumbler. Looking at the cup again, he swore each session’s load was getting bigger even though this was a daily occurrence at this point. It had ended with a particularly bountiful finish, as he imagined you between his legs. Head bobbing on this cock, tits hanging from your top, before you had spit onto his cock, trapping it between your breasts and finishing him with a hard snuck to just the mushroom head of his cock.

It hit him then what a waste it was to rinse out his tumbler every night when he got home. You would love the taste of him. He knew would. Over the next few days, he collected each load, storing it in his coffee tumbler on the top shelf of his fridge at home. He had a couple of close calls when Laurie asked why he was keeping his coffee cold. He brushed it off, saying it was just water. He was trying to stop drinking so much coffee. Bad for his health. She had just nodded, leaving the tumbler alone.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you nodded taking the dish with a smile.

“You can call me Andy. Promise you will?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, giving himself room in the suddenly tight pants.

“I promise. Thank you, Andy,” smiling up at him, he swore you could feel what he did. He swore you knew exactly what he had given you. Swore that you were happy and willing to take it. His sweet girl would take anything he gave her.

“You almost done, Ace?”

Andy was interrupted from his trance, hearing a male voice enter the room.

“Jake!” You called to the blonde man walking into the room. His shirt was untucked and his tie not quite knotted straight.

“I’m supposed to take you out for a Friendsgiving dinner today, remember?” Jake moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Who in the ever-loving fuck is this guy? Andy watched as you hugged Jake around the waist, shaking your head, ready to apologize, “I’m sorry Jake. My day got away from me. Oh, this my kind of boss, Andy. Andy Barber.”

Jake reached out a hand to him to shake while his other still stayed slung along your waist, “Jake. Nice to meet you.”

Andy looked at the hand in front of him, before nodding and giving this fucker a firm handshake. If he squeezed a little harder than he should, well that wasn’t on him.

“Go get your stuff together and then we’ll head out,” Jake whispered down at you, to which you just nodded and flitted out the room.

Stuck with just Jake in the room, Andy leaning back against the sink giving this other guy a once over. He wouldn’t be an issue. No way did this guy have the prowess or charm to lure you away. You were his sweet girl. This fucker wouldn’t change that.

“I’m only going to say this once, leave her alone.”

Andy looked back at Jake, eyebrow raised, before scoffing, “And who are you exactly?”

“I’m guy who knows how to download the feed from the parking garage’s cameras.” Andy swallowed hard as Jake stared him down. He refused to nod, instead crossing his arms and looking down.

“I’m ready Jake!” You came back in, your handbag slung over your shoulder and the mashed potatoes in your arms as Jake took your workbag from you.

“Let’s shake a leg then, Ace,” you giggled at Jake and Andy frowned. When did that giggle change from just being his?

“Bye Andy. I’ll see you next week. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Waving goodbye to the two of you, Andy waited to hear the ding of the elevator before grabbing the tumbler and throwing it across the room. It clanked against the wall before rolling back towards his feet.

Hands on hips, he looked down at the cup. It was okay. Jake couldn’t do anything to him. He had checked to make sure the cameras were never pointed at him. But you, his sweet girl, he needed a new plan. Grabbing the cup from the floor, he rinsed it before setting it next to the empty coffee maker.

It hit Andy then. You did love your coffee. And you always made sure to have cream with it.

@buckybarnesisdaddy, @theinheriteddutchess, @sarahdonald87

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - April 3, 2023

Kentucky Legalizes Medical Marijuana in Bipartisan Vote After Decade of Failed Attempts

The state of Kentucky has legalized the use of medical marijuana. The bill received final passage on Thursday. Democratic Gov. Andy Beshear signed it into law Friday morning after a decade of failed attempts in the state legislature.

The news makes Kentucky at least the 38th state in the U.S. to legalize medical marijuana.

Now Indiana is surrounded by weed states. The encirclement is complete 😂

2. The Maryland House of Delegates voted Saturday to approve the Trans Health Equity Act

The Maryland House of Delegates voted Saturday to approve the Trans Health Equity Act — a bill that just a year ago disappeared from the chamber’s agenda ahead of a floor vote.

The bill would require Maryland Medicaid, beginning on Jan. 1, 2024, to provide coverage for additional gender-affirming treatments, which are currently disallowed in the state’s plan but commonly covered by private insurance. The expanded treatments include hormone therapy, hair alteration, voice therapy, physical alterations to the body, and fertility preservation.

3. FDA approves over-the-counter Narcan. Here's what it means

The approved nasal spray is the best-known form of naloxone. It can reverse overdoses of opioids, including street drugs such as heroin and fentanyl and prescription versions including oxycodone.

Making naloxone available more widely is seen as a key strategy to control the nationwide overdose crisis. Effects begin within two minutes when given intravenously, and within five minutes when injected into a muscle. The medicine can also be administered by spraying it into a person's nose.

4. Boston expands tuition-free community college program to all residents

Boston has expanded its tuition-free community college program to include all city residents regardless of age, income or immigration status.

Starting this fall, any city resident will be eligible to pursue an associate’s degree or certificate at one of six partnering local institutions without paying to attend. The program also includes a $250 stipend for incidental expenses each semester for up to three years, and up to $2,500 of debt relief for students whose account balances are keeping them from re-enrolling.

5. First cheetah cubs born in India since extinction 70 years ago

India has welcomed the birth of four cheetah cubs - more than 70 years after the animals were declared officially extinct there.India's environment minister announced the good news, calling it a "momentous event".

The country has been trying to reintroduce the big cats for decades, and last year brought eight cheetahs over from Namibia as part of the plan. Another 12 cheetahs were brought to India from South Africa last month.

6. BBC education show in Afghanistan helps children banned from school

The BBC has launched a new education programme for children in Afghanistan who are banned from school.It is aimed at children aged 11 to 16, including girls whose secondary education has been stopped by the ruling Taliban.

The weekly programme is called Dars, which means lesson in Dari and Pashto, Afghanistan's official languages. It is hosted by BBC Afghan female journalists who were evacuated from Kabul during the 2021 Taliban takeover.

Each new weekly half-hour episode of Dars will air four times a day, Saturday to Friday, on the newly launched BBC News Afghanistan channel.

7. A Trans Creator Has Raised Over 1.5 Million for Trans Healthcare on TikTok Live

Transgender TikTokers are celebrating Trans Day of Visibility by raising over $1.5 million for gender-affirming care around the world.

Mercury Stardust — a DIY TikToker and trans advocate who calls herself the “Trans Handy Ma’am” — raised $120,000 last year in a livestream for the mutual aid nonprofit Point of Pride, which maintains funds for surgeries, hormone therapy, and free binders and gaffs. This year, Stardust and cohost Jory, a.k.a. AlluringSkull, set themselves a goal of raising $1 million in a planned 30-hour live stream…and then smashed that milestone less than six hours after starting the stream Thursday evening.

----

I have started a Youtube channel with wholesome videos I can find on the internet. Check it out :)

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog

[cowgurrrl]

I Wish I Was

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: yay for creative energy coming back!!

Summary: Murphy’s Law dictates… [3.1k]

Warnings: art talk, discussions of a deceased parent, probably incorrect blueprint talk, a cliff hanger 😈

Temperatures rarely dip below the thirties in Central Texas. It's not impossible, as evidenced by the below-freezing temperatures ravaging much of the South in the final days before returning to school, but it's still rare. Nobody really knows what to do when there's the threat of the roads icing over, so they just decide to shut most things down, including your bar. You feigned disappointment when your manager called to tell you when, in reality, you were digging through your box of acrylic paints to find the one shade that's been calling your name. With the sudden free time, you get to work on your half-finished canvases and listen to the same record repeatedly in the hopes that your brain will zone out enough for you to make something good. 

It could be The Mamas and The Papas record spinning or the dark blue winter light shining through your blinds, but you actually like the piece of art unfolding on your canvas. It's undeniably different, a little more vibrant and a little more abstract, but it feels good— sustainable, at the very least. You feel less self-conscious about them and even snap pictures to show them off to Andie. You've finished three other canvases and sent in images of them to a local art collective that takes gallery submissions twice a year, and they've moved you on to the next part of the acceptance process. It's not a definite yes, but it's not an immediate no. You haven't told Joel about the submission or anything, really. You've just holed yourself up in your apartment to paint and sporadically respond to his texts with lots of apologies typed with yellow or purple fingertips.

He knows you're not ignoring him, and you know he's a busy guy. He has better things to do than sit around and wait for you to text him back, but you feel bad about not being as present as you were before. "It's all part of the process, I promise," you said. "Then, when I get my own gallery, you can hear all about it while you fix up my classroom." He reminded you that "pride goeth before the fall" but didn't doubt or pressure you to break your flow. The only thing he consistently texts you about is making sure you're drinking water, stretching your wrists, and, at least, looking at a vegetable during your long sessions. Otherwise, he leaves you alone to work. Everyone else, including the stack of looming emails in your inbox, gets deliberately ignored so you can live in your bubble for just a little longer before school drags you back into session. 

That's why you jumped and furrowed your eyebrows at your ringing phone when his contact photo appeared unexpectedly, breaking you out of your concentration. You wipe your hands on your old pair of too-big jeans (universally known as your work pants because they're covered in different colored hand prints) and swipe to answer him before the silly picture of him with one of your scarves on his head can go away. You hear him shuffling around when you put it on speaker and almost hang up, thinking it's a butt dial before you finally hear his voice.

"Hello?" He greets.

"Hey, what's up?" 

"Did I leave my jacket there?" He asks. You let out a relieved sigh that it's nothing too dramatic, but the lingering panic his phone call caused sits in the back of your head as you glance down at said jacket. You adjust the palette in your hand, suddenly hyper-aware of the wet paint and thanking whatever God is out there for not getting any on his clothes. You can't imagine things would go over well with the guys if he suddenly showed up to job sites with pink paint on the sleeve of his jacket.

"No..." you say, extending the vowel, and he chuckles. 

"Do me a favor. See if there's a ring of keys in the front pocket?" He says. You gently put the palette on your coffee table and wipe your hands again to ensure there's no wet paint on them before digging into both front pockets and feeling the keys in his left pocket. You pull them out and find the set of keys with a baseball keychain and a keychain with a picture of him and the girls on it. 

"I've got 'em," you say. "The Astros? Really?"

"D'you mind bringin' 'em to the office? I forgot I needed 'em." He ignores your jab, and you look down at your outfit. Clad in your work pants, a sports bra, Joel's Carhartt jacket, and your unwashed hair in a clip, you are not prepared to leave the house today, let alone go see Joel.

"Um..." 

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, and you wince. What are you gonna say? Sorry, I know you have to do your job and all, but I look and feel like shit, so I can't bring your keys to you? He's already seen you in disarray from the school day, but that was a cuter, more socially acceptable version of disarray. This version gives credence to the messy, mentally ill artist stereotype Freud introduced however many years ago. 

"No, nothing's wrong. I just..." you sigh and rub your face. "I wasn't expecting to see you today. I kinda look crazy." 

"That's it?" He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Baby, I don't care how you look. You could show up in a potato sack, and I wouldn't care." 

"Well, lucky for you, I don't own a potato sack, but I'm pretty sure that would look better than this."

"If it makes you feel better, the office is empty."

"Then, why are you in? It's fucking freezing."

"I needed to make sure the pipes didn't freeze over, and I left some blueprints here," he says. "I can grab 'em from you and just come back to the office."

"No, I don't want you driving more than you have to," you say, already stretching out your stiff legs. Your knees creak in protest, and fatigue seeps into your bones. God, how long have you been sitting here? "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"I think it'll take a lot more than some messy clothes to scare me off, darlin'," he says, and you roll your eyes at his charm. With a quick goodbye, you throw on a clean enough sweater and leggings. You debate running a brush through your hair before remembering what he said about the empty office and decide you don't have the energy. If he really doesn't care what you look like, then you're not going to stress about it. 

You're a little worried about driving in the weather, even you aren't immune to Southern weather panic, but the roadways are mostly clear, and things aren't expected to get really bad until later on. Still, you drive slowly and white-knuckle the wheel against strong, frigid winds. By the time you get to Joel's office, the sky is more grey than blue, and radio announcers warn you that there might be flurries within the next forty-eight hours. You doubt they'll stick to the ground and amount to nothing more than some black ice, inconveniencing everyone in the state, but still. You leave the relative warmth of your car and walk as fast as you can into the building, clutching Joel's jacket close to your body and sending a wave of his smell over you. 

The office itself is small, with a couple of desks here and there, mostly for meeting with clients and explaining building plans. A coffee pot and water cooler sit in the corner next to the receptionist's desk, which is currently empty. It's eerily quiet in the space except for the sound of the heat rumbling somewhere in the walls, and you almost wonder if Joel left without telling you when you hear grumbling and the tell-tale sound of his boots against the tile. He doesn't notice you at first. Instead, he scowls at a paper like it owes him money and mutters under his breath. Whatever is annoying him is wiped away the second he sees you there. 

"Hey, baby," he lights up as he walks over to you and kisses you, abandoning the paper on one of the desks so he can hold you close. He tastes like coffee and the beeswax chapstick Ellie got him for Christmas. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, and you smile against his lips. "You got my keys?" He asks as he turns to walk into his office, grabbing your hand and bringing you with him. He lets go of you to close the door behind him, and you dig the keys out of your pocket and toss them at him. He catches them in mid-air easily and walks over to the filing cabinet.

"You intentionally leave your keys with me, or is this just a happy accident?" You ask, and he smirks. 

"Maybe I just wanted to see you again."

"Sneaky," you say as you walk around his space while he searches for the correct blueprint. 

It's a relatively normal office with eggshell walls and bad fluorescent lighting, but once you step behind his desk, you get a good idea of the man who works here. His desk is old and made of some type of wood he probably knows more about than you do. It's filled with little knick-knacks and things that get him through the day: family pictures, a painted gecko from Terlingua, stress balls, and a desk calendar with his all-caps handwriting. There are even some drawings done by Ellie pinned on the corkboard behind his chair, her skill visibly improving as she gets older. 

One particular picture on his desk catches your eye. It's older than the rest, and it takes you a minute to recognize Joel's eyes in the greying man. Joel, Tommy, and their dad smile at the camera with identical grins. Tommy can't be older than ten while Joel towers over them both, his broad shoulders taking up lots of space. You pick it up to look at it closer and Joel doesn't stop you. Instead, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

"'S this your dad?" you ask, and he nods. "You guys look a lot alike." 

"You think?" He asks like he doesn't see it, and you look at him. You take a second or two to let your eyes trace his features and compare them to his dad's before nodding.

"Yeah. Same eyes," you say as you look back down. "And smile." He hums happily at that. Joel's face hasn't changed much now that he's a grown man. If anything, he looks more like his dad, with the grey at the temples and the beard framing his face. You see bits of their father in Tommy, too, but you assume he probably looks more like their mother. "How old were you in this?"

"Mm, fifteen? Maybe sixteen." Right before his dad died, you think. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing or reliving the day over again. Before the clutches of grief can sink you both, you smile to yourself and hold the picture a little closer.

"I would've been obsessed with you if we'd gone to high school together." 

"Really?" He asks incredulously, and you giggle at the thought. 

"Oh, for sure. Look at you!" You point to his little broody half-smile as if it's evidence. "Those eyes, that hair, the attitude. I mean, c'mon, Joel!" He laughs at your praise and takes the photo out of your hands.

"Alright, alright, that's enough objectification for teenage Joel." 

"I'm not objectifying you! I'm just stating the obvious." 

"Mhm," he hums, and you laugh. You continue walking around and looking at his things as he frowns at the blueprint he trekked through the cold to get. "Shit." He mumbles, reaches for a pencil, and scribbles something on the plans. 

"What's wrong?" You ask, perching yourself on the edge of his desk and leaning over to look at the intricate design. It looks like a big house with lots of elaborate details written on the margins. It's a big build. No wonder he needed to get this copy.  

"This client decided they wanted a bigger kitchen, but I don't know how to do that without eatin' into another room and changin' the whole plan," he sighs. "We're supposed to be back on the site once this storm blows over, and I gotta have an idea of how we're gonna do this by then." 

"Can't you just tell them no?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Can’t you just tell your principal no?

"Point taken," you say. "What about pushing it into the backyard a little? Then you could use this area over here to make a sunroom or something," you suggest, gesturing to the weird leftover space that would make the house look wonky. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks.

"Then what should I do here?" He asks. Together, you go back and forth, discussing dimensions, perspectives, and measurements. You never realized how similar these designs are to art. They have to have more of a purpose and fit specific parameters, but other than that, they have the same idea: create something out of nothing. It's cool to see Joel in his own element, doing mental math and estimates that would take you ages to do and writing down his findings as you figure them out together. He's not just good at math, he's good at sketching the new designs. 

Almost seamlessly, he flips through the floor plans and layouts, adding a window there or changing the flow of a room with a singular erasure. He adds the perfect depth to see the idea clearly without crowding the space and making it seem too busy, allowing the clients to picture their furniture in the home. When you bring up an idea, he's quick to rotate the plans upside down to imagine how it would look and if it would impact the building process, his brain running through every possible solution and flipping it without even thinking. Ellie does the same thing when she gets stuck on a drawing. You see where she gets her skill from, even if he'll never admit it. 

For someone who has always struggled with math, you enjoy the balance between math, engineering, and art in the plans, but you like working with Joel the most. It's nice to feel like you're helping instead of distracting him. You're not sure how long you worked together, reconfiguring things this way and that, before you finally reached a viable solution, but you know that Joel has the biggest smile on his face when he looks away from the blueprints. 

"You mighta missed a callin', my dear." He says, and you laugh, shaking your head.

"My college algebra professor might disagree, but I do think this is interesting." 

"Well, if you ever want a job..." he trails off as he rolls the blueprints back up and secures it with a rubber band. You smirk and tug at his belt loops to bring him closer to where you're sitting on his desk. 

"You just want me to get more tattoos." You accuse, and he chuckles as he tosses the prints somewhere behind you, his hands coming up to frame your face. 

"I'm just sayin', Miller Contracting don't have a policy against it like the school district does."

"Mm, what about dating? That might get a little dicey." 

"Is sleepin' with your boss better or worse than sleepin' with a student's parent?" He asks, and you laugh. 

"They're probably in the same realm of bad."

"Then, we've got nothin' to lose." He says as he leans down to kiss you. You open your legs just enough for him to step in between your knees and get as close as he can. He's trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him, but the stubble still scratches deliciously against your skin, making you sigh. He breaks away enough to tip you back onto his desk, narrowly missing his clutter, and you giggle when he kisses your neck.

"How long have you been plannin' this one?" you ask, your years in Texas showing through in your breathless voice. He smiles as he meets your eyes. 

"I dunno what you're talkin' bout."

"Oh, so getting me alone and on top of your desk was just a coincidence?"

"Happy accident." He muses, sliding his hands up your shirt as he gets lower and lower. Your hands play with his hair, occasionally tugging on the strands just to hear the sound he makes. You would've been happy to do that all day if your phone ringing through the suddenly too-warm air of his office didn't interrupt. Joel groans and drops his head to your sternum, his hands pausing their journey up your body as you wiggle your phone out of your back pocket. Your heart drops the second you recognize the phone number.

"Who is it?" Joel asks like he's reading your mind. You sit up slowly, and he takes his hands off you without malice or frustration. You're stuck staring at the number until it disappears off your screen and goes to voicemail. 

"Um... someone from work. I should probably call them back." You say, unsure of yourself as the words fall from your mouth. Joel looks confused but doesn't push. 

"Oh. Right, yeah. School starts back up on Monday, right?" 

"Yeah, she probably just wants to talk about lesson plans or something," you say, standing from your spot on the desk. The air has changed between you, and suddenly, things feel clunky and awkward. This is the worst possible timing. "Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll walk you out." He says sheepishly. You don't say anything as he opens the doors for you and gives you a quick kiss and a reminder to text him when you get home. You just nod and immediately speed walk to your car even though you're not that cold. Joel watches you pull out from your parking spot and leave the strip mall, waving before you can turn out of sight. 

You wait until you're five minutes down the road before you dial the number back as if Joel would be able to hear the crackly voice through your speaker if you were any closer. Your heart beats fast in your chest, and your palms are sweaty on the wheel as the phone rings. When the dial tone finally ends, and your call is answered, the anxiety is replaced with frustration.

"What’s up?" You ask through gritted teeth, and you hear her take a breath.

"We need to talk about Ellie’s dad."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01 @acupofhollie

[ssahoodrathotchner]

okay head count who is still around and interested in my writing?? sound off in the comments below

[this-broken-band-girl]

peppermint green tea my beloved

[navybrat817]

A Sunny Outlook

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: After everything Andy has been through, his outlook on life is a bit jaded. Until you show up. Word Count: Almost 1.3k Warnings: Defending Jacob spoilers/Mix of canon and canon divergent (talk of divorce, child death), slight angst, opposites attract, future smut and feels (it's me), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Tenth and final day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to new couple, Grumpy and Sunny! Set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar, I mixed up my list a bit and plan to share Thorn and Rose at a later date. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Andy edit by the beautiful @randomagnes0210. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you would’ve told Andy Barber years ago that he’d be living his life today as a tattoo artist, he wouldn’t have believed you. He had his path carved out. Life didn’t care what people wanted though, no matter how hard they worked to get it.

“Um, Mr. Barber?” Jake called out to him from the desk.

"How many times have I told you to call me 'Andy'? For fuck's sake," Andy snapped.

"Sorry, Mr. Bar- Andy!"

Andy took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. He didn't mean to snap at Jake. He was a good guy. One of the nicest around. It wasn't his fault he was in a bad mood.

Which was his mood most days.

"No, I'm sorry," he said.

He wasn’t always a jaded man. Though his dad had been in jail his entire life, he thankfully had a good childhood overall. It helped set him on his path to become a lawyer, as he wanted to help others. He also made a promise to himself to be a good father if that day would ever come. He thought he had that chance to make that dream a reality with his college sweetheart, Laurie.

As a lawyer, he enjoyed his work. It challenged him and helped him grow. It was also stressful depending on the case. Long hours and seeing some people at their worst didn’t always leave him in the best headspace. But he had his wife and they had their son, Jacob.

Life was good.

Until his world got a little darker.

“This isn’t working, Laurie.”

“No, it isn’t."

Andy couldn’t put his finger on why and he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that Laurie was on the same page. Love took a lot of work and sometimes it wasn’t enough to make a marriage last. Not that they didn’t give it a try. They met with a counselor. Neither of them stepped out on each other. They wanted desperately to make it work for their kid.

But the loss of their son solidified the end of their marriage.

“Andy, I know you blame me.”

The thing is Andy didn’t put that on her. It was the bad weather that caused her to spin out of control. But she carried guilt for fighting with their son before the crash. It was something she couldn’t let go of.

The divorce was as ammicable as it could be, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like a failure. Work couldn’t distract him either. How was he expected to help people, some who were not even innocent, when he couldn’t help himself?

Tears filled his eyes as he sat in his empty house, trying to figure out what the hell was he supposed to do with his life. He didn’t want to go back into the office. He also didn’t want to drink himself to death. In a drunken stupor he called an old friend of his.

Steve Rogers.

One of the most honorable men Andy had the pleasure of knowing. While he went off to law school, Steve joined the army. The last he heard, he became a tattoo artist with another friend and army buddy, Bucky Barnes. He felt like an ass calling when he hadn’t reached out in so long, but the inebriated part of his brain didn’t process that.

“I don’t know what to do,” was all he said on the voicemail.

He woke up the next morning with a text message from Steve: “You any good at drawing?”

It was the beginning of his new chapter.

"You are never gonna get laid if you keep snapping at everyone," Hal winked as he walked by his chair.

"Get fucked," he said with only a hint of malice as Hal chuckled.

"I'm tryin'!"

"Give him a break," Steve said from his station, but he was smiling, too.

Like Jake, it was hard to get mad at a guy like Hal. A charming piercer who drifted from place to place before he met up with Steve and Bucky, he did some of the best work in the city. He was sure some came into the new shop just to hit on him.

"What is it, Jake?" he asked as he stood up and stretched.

"Your consultation is here about the sun tattoo," he explained, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "Said she saw some of your work online."

Andy took another breath. He prided himself on the portfolio he built. It took him time to build and he didn't have as much clientele as Steve and Bucky, but he was slowly catching up. He was proud of the work he accomplished.

"Yeah, send her over," he said. He had a few minutes before his next appointment. "Thanks."

Jake rushed off before he could say another word, likely afraid he'd snap again. He'd have to apologize again later. He should've been happy. The opening of the shop went well. He liked his place in the city.

What the hell was his problem?

"Hi!"

Andy blinked when you stood in front of him. He wasn't used to seeing such a cheerful smile on someone’s face. Not directed at him, at least. He would've thought it was fake if not for the kindness in your eyes.

Ironic that you wanted a sun tattoo since he saw the world as much darker a long time ago.

Would the sun still shine in your eyes if I had you spread out under me?

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

He didn't lust after potential clients. He hadn't even done one night stand after Laurie. Why did seeing your happy, beautiful face make him want to change his mind?

Why did your smile get to him?

"Um, I can come back another time," you offered, as if you inconvenienced him by walking over.

The mere presence of you rendered Andy speechless until he remembered he had to speak.

"No, it's okay. Please, have a seat," he stood up to pull a chair over. "I'm Andy."

Your smile was back on your face as you gave him your name.

Beautiful, just like you.

"I just want to say real quick that I love your work,” you said as you took out your phone. “I can’t believe I was lucky enough to get in so quickly.”

"I appreciate that,” he said. The compliment meant a lot. “It’s a sun tattoo you want, right?"

“Yeah. My friends call me Sunny because I’m what they call a ‘big ball of sunshine’,” you explained.

“I can’t imagine why,” he deadpanned. You looked like you were trying to hold in a laugh as you set your phone down. “Something funny?”

“Do people tell you that you’re grumpy?” you asked curiously. "Or is it a requirement that at least half of the staff here have to look intimidating?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he wasn’t the least bit offended. “People tell me almost every day."

“I can’t imagine why,” you echoed with a smile.

"And if only half of us look intimidating, then we aren't doing our job."

“Don't worry. I won't tell," you mock whispered.

He actually smiled back at you before he frowned and cleared his throat. He refused to let you consume his thoughts, even if your bright aura began to chip away at his tough exterior. “Then why don’t you tell me more about your tattoo.”

He listened intently as you explained the kind of sun design you wanted and where. He had a feeling by the time he finished your consultation, he'd be in a much better mood. Even if he didn’t want to be. And your tattoo would be his best work yet.

Andy's world may be a bit brighter thanks to you. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[pjshermann]

Jude's Timeline

Since there are no dates or determinable time period (beyond the fact that it's set in the 21st century) in A Little Life, I love trying to figure out the timelines of the characters themselves. So here's Jude.

Newborn

Born in South Dakota

Abandoned as a newborn and taken in by the monastery

5 years old

Received a fossil from Brother Luke for his birthday

7 years old

Had his hand burnt by Father Gabriel

Sexual abuse by the Brothers began

8 years old

Given a set of wooden logs for his birthday

Abducted by Brother Luke and forced into prostitution

11 years old

Began cutting himself

12 years old

Rescued from Brother Luke

Placed in a boys group home in Montana

13 years old

Meets the Learys

Beaten by the counselors, causing life-long scarring on his back

14 years old

Runs away from the group home in Montana

Abducted by Dr. Traylor and held captive for four months

15 years old

Run over by Dr. Traylor, causing his life-long disability

Rescued from Dr. Traylor

Meets Ana

Begins living with the Douglasses

16 years old

Ana passes away

Briefly lives in an emergency shelter

Has a summer job at a bakery

Leaves Philadelphia, and starts his undergraduate study at an unnamed college in Boston

17 years old

Met Andy Contractor

Gifted a model house by Malcolm

18 years old

Began working as a classics professor's amanuensis

Dr. Traylor dies in prison

20 years old

Graduated from his undergraduate study and goes to France for the first time

Began Law School at (presumably) Harvard

Began his Pure Math Master's degree from MIT

Met Harold Stein and Julia Altman

21 years old

Stayed at Harold and Julia's house for the first time and imagined they were his parents

Had an unspecified internship during the summer

Invited to Harold and Julia's summer house, Truro, for the first time

22 years old

Learned to drive (from Harold)

23 years old

Graduated Law School

Graduated Masters at MIT

Began his clerkship in Washington, living in the living room of an unnamed legislative assistant

24 years old

Given keys to the Cambridge house by Julia

25 years old

Moved to New York, living at Malcolm's parents' house

Began working at the U.S Attorney as an assistant prosecutor

Moved out of Malcom's parents' house to Lispenard St

26 years old

Has his first episode in front of Harold, who sings to him

Willem finds out about his cutting

Jumps off a roof with his friends at Lispenard St

27 years old

Broke the mug that Jacob made

Attended Andy's wedding

29 years old

Began tutoring Felix

30 years old

Adopted by Harold and Julia <3

31 years old

First contacted by Lucien after working on case for Thackery Smith

Finalized the contract for a job at Rosen Pritchard, after the elevator broke once more at Lispenard

Contacted by Rob Wilson (Some unknown from the home)

32 years old

Bought his Green Street apartment

35 years old

Became a partner at Rosen Pritchard (the youngest one in the firm's history)

36 years old

Picked out a suit for Malcolm for his wedding that would happen that year

Began the renovations for Greene Street

37 years old

Broke off his friendship with JB after the latter mocks his disability

38 years old

Scolded by Harold out at dinner for working at Rosen Pritchard

40 years old

His former Master's advisor, Dr. Kashen, passes away

Attended his former classmates, Lionel and Sinclair's, wedding

Began dating Caleb Porter

Broke up with Caleb Porter

41 years old

Attempts suicide and is briefly institutionalized

Goes to Morroco

43 years old

Caleb port a potty dies <3

Began dating Willem

45 years old

Has his big fight with Willem and tells him about his childhood

46 years old

Buys a flat in London on Harley Street

The last time he would truly walk on his own. No aides, no prosthetics. This is during a trip to Bhutan

47 years old

Starts getting lots of wounds on his legs and bone infections

48 years old

Gets his legs amputated

49 years old

Starts walking again

50 years old

Set up scholarships for Julia and Harold at their respective universities

Loses both Willem and Malcolm (and Sophie) to a drunk driving accident

51 years old

His loved ones hold an intervention for him

52 years old

Went to Rome

Taught Harold how to cook

Asked to be the chairman of Rosen Pritchard

53 years old

Took his own life :(

If there's anything here you think should be added let me know. And of course this isn't every single thing that happened to Jude, just some main events or events that helped pinpoint the timeline. So if there's a scene/event/anything that you'd like to know the timeline of, let me know (inbox)

[cevansbaby-dove]

Campus heat, Andy barber one shot.

Warnings:mad Andy but sexy, teacher X student relationship. Smut!!

Pairing: Professor!Andy Barber X Student!Reader

I walked into the hall and my friends wave me down as I shoulder'd my bag. "Hey Y/N!!" My friend Annie said giving me a hug. "Hi Ann how was summer break?" "Oh it was amazing! Girl this new guy in our school is super hot!! And he's single..I think...right Mary?" She said looking at our friend. "Yes I looked at his paper and he's been married once they broke it off and he is happily single now"

I rolled my eyes. 'Girls come on stop setting me up with professors just once I want it so I don't have to get into trouble for them to see me"

Ah Professor Barber...the new guy who I hated more than anyone in this damn law school but I didn't tell my girls that.

I waved them good bye as I walked down the hall and into the classroom. I set my bag down and cross my leg in this mini skirt I put on this morning. I'm not dressing like a slut for anyone no matter what Annie and Mary say.

Andy walks into the room and other students file in and sit down. This might be a long day.

I tap my pen on my notebook as Andy is explaining something to us...then my phone vibrates. I pick it up from my bag and see a text from Mary who is to my left three seat down.

Mary-He's looking extra hot today uh? 😏

I roll my eyes at her text.

Y/N-Drooling over him already?

Mary-maybe you might be in detention if he sees how short your skirt is.

Y/N-this is important stuff he's talking about get off your damn phone.

"Miss L/N! do you have something to share with the class?" I hear Andy say. I look at him dropping my phone into my bag. 'N...No sir i'm sorry my uhh...mom was asking for something."

"Keep your phone off and don't touch it until after class understood!?"

I nod. "yes sir Sorry sir" I scoff hearing Mary giggling. "Miss Hazelson should you join her too?" "No sir sorry" Andy shakes his head and goes back to his lecture. Andy's eyes fall on my legs and then his licks his lips fast so I barely see it.

After class.

Andy is packing his stuff up and I walk over. "Mister Barber? I would like to apologize for what I did in class, You see my friend Mary tink I have a crush on you and well I don't...."

His eyes meet mine and he says. "I accept your apology but please don't ever do that again, when I am talking you listen do you understand?"

I nod feeling my knees almost become noddles God this man's tone was hot..."yes sir I'm sorry" he nods. "Call me Andy please Y/N"

Two days later Mary texts me again but this time I stand up. "Mister barber Mary is distracting me" Andy's eyes meet mine and he looks at my friend who s red with rage. "is that true Miss Hazelson?"

"Bitch!! What!!?" She says. "She's lying professor! My god!" Andy slams his book on the desk making it echo through the classroom. "Enough! both of you! Miss Y/N you will come to my office after class to explain this to me, Mary you will be suspend for two days!"

he looks at me then at Mary who is looking at her pretty nails. "two days aren't that bad" She mumbled. Another eye roll from me.

Andy says. "i'll see you later Miss L/N"

i nod. "Yes sir"

After class I am walking to his office and knock softly. "it's unlocked Y/N" I turn the knob and walk in. "You wanted to see me?" Andy turns his phone off and says. "have a seat please"

I sit across his desk and say. "so..what did I do wrong?" He leans back in his chair. "Well first off your outfit is not...appropriate in class"

I cross my legs. "Sorry Andy i'll change it." Andy stands up and walks to me sitting on his desk. "If you keep acting like such a brat I'm going to have to teach you a lesson... but you'd like that... wouldn't you darling?"

he's my professor..yet my body is heating up with his words...Teach me a lesson...fuck.

Rubbing my thighs together, I can feel the wetness in my lace underwear, getting even more turned on by the tension between us. "Now, now professor... I'm not sure that would be appropriate... would it?"

I look up to him and smirk, knowing what is about to happen is so wrong, yet I was so desperate for him.

Slowly rising from my seat I take the small step forward to close the distance between us.

Shuffling his legs he allows me to stand in between them. I look at him through my eyelashes "Finally the penny drops..." I tease, taking a hold of his collar, pulling it gently to me.

Andy's breathe hitches when my hand runs down his chest.

"You know, it drove me crazy. All those other girls would sit on the front row, flaunting themselves at me and then there was you in that mini skirt... Those long legs...wrapped around my waist has flashed through my mind"

Staring intensely into each other's eyes, neither of us say a word. Moving his arms from his chest. Andy places his hands on my waist, his grip tightening and pulling me closer to him.

Keeping my hands on his chest we begin the close the distance. Our lips hovering over each other.

"Andy...." I whisper. Andy is the one to close the gap between us. Pushing forward his lips crash into mine, my arms wrap around his neck and his arms around my waist.

Deepening the kiss I let out a small moan, parting my lips slightly gaining him access.

Before either of us know what's happening he has spun me around, clearing his desk he lays me upon it.

Andy quickly removed my sweater and shirt like he's dying to see me naked, fuck that is hot of him.

Andy is taken a back to see I wasn't even wearing a bra. "Please say you've at least put your panties on today?"

He growls, leaning back in his places wet kisses on my neck, slowly moving down my body. Leaning back I allow myself to lay freely on his desk.

Getting to my skirt he kisses all along my waistband. "Do you know how much I thought about this? Thought about how I'm going to ruin your sweet little clit." Moaning at his words I clench my thighs together again, trying to create some friction to release the tension.

Yanking hard I lift my hips, him removing my skirt and panties in one swift movement. "So responsive to me already... I've not even started what I'm going to do to you." Andy said kissing my neck. "Andy...fuck me already...please"

"Please!" I choke out, breathlessly desperate for his touch. "Oh you can be a good girl when you wanna be... Now tell me how does it feel when I do this?"

Before I can even react he dips his head down, licking up my slit, resting his tongue on my clit. "Ohh!!" I moan loudly, feeling a course of pleasure rush over me.

Without hesitation I feel his lips curl into a smile, his beard tickling slightly as he begins the pulsing movement of his tongue once more.

Grabbing firmly on my thighs he spreads my legs even further, gripping tight to stop me pushing them back together.

Arching my back I move my hands down my body, feeling myself before gripping his hair in a tight ball, pulling harshly.

Humming into me in response to me tugging, andy brings one of his hands away, lining two fingers up to my entrance and slowly pushing in.

"Oooooh my...god!" Feral deep moans escape my mouth, keeping my mouth slightly open I'm compelled by the deep tingling feeling building up inside of me.

Picking up the speed his fingers pump in and out of me, getting to a new rhythm I begin squirming on his desk, chasing my orgasm.

"Ooooh fuck yes! Ooooh god yes! Andy I'm gonna cum! Fuck me I'm gonna cum!"

More moans came from me, my eyes roll back in the back of my head, arching my back I feel myself coming to the edge.

Feeling the wave of ecstasy wash over me, I cum hard exploding all over his face. Slowing down the pace he allows me to come down from my high.

I pant softly. "is this why you called me in here?" He pulls his fingers out and kisses me as I sit up. "maybe" he grabs my stuff and I get into them and smirk. "Am I professor barber's favorite now?"

Andy fixes his tie and grabs his suit jacket. "For sure baby girl" He kisses me and I hop off his desk and say. "See you later Andy" I open the door and walk away.

Tags:@cutedisneygrl @katherineswritingsblog @nicoline1998enilocin @patzammit @armystay89 @angelbabyyy99 @bookishtheaterlover7

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Infinite Solutions (snippet)

Hey hey, lovelies!

Here's a little snippet of the Professor!Andy Barber x Professor!Reader series/mini-series (haven't decided yet, lol). I've made a poll asking whether or not I should pursue this fic, and I've been getting great responses. So, there is a possibility it may become a series. 🤭🤭🤭

Anyways, Enjoy!!

Pairings: Law!Professor!Andy Barber

Word count: 700

Warnings: None yet

Summary: *It's still a surprise, hehe*

“You’re doing it again,” you hear a rough voice say. Looking away from the chalkboard, you see the dark-haired, blue-eyed man giving you a tired, tilted smile. You smile back, confused. “Huh?”

He sighs and nods his head, as if asking if he could enter. You nod, allowing him. “You’re going to break it,” he points at the white chalk in your fist. You hold it as though it’s the last thing to your name; you were so focused you didn’t know you were holding onto it for dear life.

“You’re supposed to be at home, sweetheart. Not break your head over some problem,” he waves his hand towards the blackboard. You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your facial features to not react to the “sweetheart”. He looks at his expensive watch that sits nicely on his exposed forearm.

You take in his look, from the neat brown loafers to the nicely fitted black slacks to the light blue button-down where the sleeves were folded to his elbows, to the dark blue tie tucked nicely around his thick neck.

You push those thoughts aside, and you listen to him complain that you shouldn’t be here, at the university, this late at night.

“Just solving a problem,” you counter, placing the chalk back on its shelf. Andy sighs and nods, “I understand, but you know sleep is important, right?” You walk to your desk to pack up your stuff and you feel him follow you. He ducks his head to catch your eye, “right?”

You nod mindlessly, zipping up your messenger bag. You reach for the heavy textbook you haul all the time, but Andy grabs it before you could. “Let me,” he insists, as he adjusts his coat over the hinge of his elbow. You nod and say your thanks; you switch off your desk lamp and CPU, as your final routine for the night.

“Shall we?” He whispers, his deep blue eyes glinting against the moonlight streaming through your office window. You nod and your lips slightly twitch upwards, “sure, yeah. You gonna walk me to my car?” He chuckles and shakes his head, “that gonna be a problem?” His Boston accent incredibly strong.

You shake your head and lightly smile, “not at all, Barber.”

You both walk towards your door, and he holds it open for you, and you walk past him nodding your thanks.

The Boston chill hits you like a freight train, and you shiver instantly. Andy and you make a beeline towards your Corolla at the back of the parking lot. He makes you laugh with his dad jokes, and you ask him about little 3-year-old Jacob, and he says that he really appreciated you going to Jacob’s pre-school's Mother’s Day event.

“Ah, it’s really nothing. Anything to make that little troublemaker smile,” you brush off the compliment. Andy shakes his head, “No, I really do appreciate it a lot. You know, ever since Laurie left-.”

You nod, “Andy, It’s fine. And I really don’t mind helping you and Jakie out, really.” Andy gives you one of the softest smiles ever, and it warms your whole body despite the freezing chill of Massachusetts.

You press the button on your car keys, and your dark grey Corolla beeps. Andy opens the driver's side and as you’re about to get in, you stop and turn to face him. Your eyes widen as you didn’t realize how close you two were.

You could see the green specks in his eyes, and the little grey hairs in his thick beard. “I uh,” you start, staring at his lips. But your mind trails further to a place where it makes the tip of your ears flare red. You shouldn't be feeling these things towards Andy, he's a good friend of yours. A most importantly, your co-worker. Yes, you were in different faculty’s, but still.

Worst thing is, you could see that he feels the same. He senses the slight desire, the slight neediness you both have for the other. It's been simmering since the day you two met. The way he grips onto the door, the way he hands you back your textbook. He can’t stop looking at you, he can't stop thinking about you.

You're both waiting for the other to do something or the other, waiting for the bubble to burst.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his eyes darting between your lips and eyes. “Night,” you whisper back, and you pull yourself from your frozen position and get in the car. He shuts the door gently, before lightly tapping on your window and waving goodbye. You replicate the same gesture, before pulling out of the lot.

🎀🎀🎀

Alright lovelies!!!

What do we think?

This is the offical first piece of writing I will be posting on here. So, any feedback, thoughts or even comments are really appreciated!!

Till next time!

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀