#she just wants to make sure Laurie makes it out :')

[breakcut]

Care Recipient: Laurie Strode | Continued from HERE

Rika quickly applies aid to Laurie's wound, carefully applying the antiseptic agent as the words leave the young woman's lips. {Done for.} The phrase causes the caregiver to pause for a moment, her gaze meeting the other's as she looks up from her injury. "I-it'll be okay, I promise."

She had been left behind before, the feeling of dread creeping up her spine as she felt she was merely prolonging the inevitable. But, this time was different. Rika was the one lending aid to another. She was the one that could help them to safety... And she wasn't going to abandon Laurie.

Rika smiles softly, finishing up wrapping the other's leg with gauze. "Don't worry, we'll make it out of this..." She pushes herself off the ground, extending her hand to Laurie as her smile widens.

"Together."

[babydollmarauders]

SECOND (TO NONE) — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n has spent most of her life loving Jack, only to always come up second to her sister

notes: can you tell i love Little Women? with that being said, i was extremely inspired by THE Laurie and Amy scene in Little Women (2019), therefore, one portion of dialogue in this fic is not my own but instead borrowed from the scene and all credits for that go to Greta Gerwig. (5.3k words)

it started on september 20th, 2017.

how pathetic is that? i remember the exact date that my sister brought home the boy i would fawn over for the rest of my days.

i remember it clear as day, though most of it could be from the long-held sisterly grudge of my sister telling me to take the bus home; she was waiting for a friend and didn’t want me ‘bugging’ them.

at the time, i figured it was one of her girl friends. but merely a few hours later, i would meet Jack Hughes.

that day would be the wrecking ball for the next six years of my life. day in and day out, from the ages of fifteen to twenty-one, if you were to ask me what i was thinking of, or rather who, the answer would always be Jack.

i spent years of my life wasting away in the agony of unrequited love. because while i was pining over him, he was pining over her.

*** May 6th, 2018 ***

my shirt sticks to my chest, raindrops drenching my clothing and my shoes thoroughly soaked from deep puddles. laughing as i reach the front porch, i glance behind me in await of my best friend.

“Spencer, you’re getting soaked!” i state, though i’m sure he’s extremely aware of his own status.

“it’s just water, y/n. it’s not hurting anyone.” i roll my eyes, Spencer’s natural poetic demeanor incredibly unsettling for a seventeen year old boy.

as he meets me on the porch, my hand finds the front doorknob, slinging open the door and stepping into the warm air. my clothes drip onto the entrance rug, Spencer pushing me aside in order to step in and shut the door behind us.

“mom! we’re home!” my voice echoes throughout the house as i slip my wet sandals off, dropping my shopping bags on the entryway table, Spencer following suit.

“she’s not home! she’s having lunch with Ellen!” my sister’s voice calls back, drifting towards me from the living room.

wandering down the hallway towards the living area, i peel Spencer’s US National Development Program sweatshirt over my head, my cream colored shirt rising slightly as it sticks to the wet hoodie.

“you’ll never guess who Spence and i saw at the-” my words fail me as i reach the living room, my sister sat on the couch beside her own best friend.

all too quickly, i’m suddenly self-conscious about my appearance. finding insecurity in the way my hair has frizzed up from the humidity of the day, and the way my saturated clothes stick to my body as though covered in honey.

nestled into Jack’s side, Sara raises an eyebrow towards me, her expression silently ordering me to leave; a stark contrast to that of her close friend, who smiles warmly towards me.

“hey, bug.” Jack grins, his arm slung around my sister’s shoulder and effectively stinging my soul. “sup, Spence?”

my best friend smiles at his teammate, ignoring Sara’s deadly stare and making himself at home on the gray couch.

“hey, Hughesy.” Spencer gives a nod of acknowledgment, “hey, malibu barbie.”

“i have a name, Knight.” Sara hisses, her nose scrunching in disgust towards my friend. “you’re getting the couch wet.”

“mhm.” Spencer mindlessly hums, turning his head to look back at my still motionless figure, “you coming, y/n/n?”

nodding, i join the three of them on the ‘L’ shaped couch.

“hi, Jack.” i can feel my face flush already, blood rising to my cheeks; the most traitorous display of my feelings.

but Jack just smiles, “how was the mall? crowded?”

“no, actually pretty empty for a weekend.” i reply, my voice meek.

Spencer cuts in, sending me an obnoxious and horribly hidden smirk, “should’ve come, Hughesy. you could’ve kept me company while this one tried on all her new pretty clothes.”

if this was my friend’s attempt at helping me, it sure was a sucky one. Sara’s eyes bounce between Jack, Spencer, and, i before she rolls them, announcing her departure to the bathroom. pushing off the couch, she knocks Jack’s arm off of her shoulders, his smile dropping just slightly as she leaves the room.

“kinda wanted to go.” Jack clears his throat, “but Sara wasn’t feeling it.”

now it’s Spencer’s turn to roll his eyes, nodding his head in understanding, “ah yes, and what Sara wants, Sara gets.”

if this were any other context, the months-long feud between my sister and my best friend would be amusing me in the highest degree; but in the moment, all i can feel is the nausea that bubbles up as Jack’s cheeks twinge pink at his teammates teasing.

“shut up, Spence.” he mutters, eyes flickering back towards me, slightly widened as if he just remembered i was there, “maybe you should do a fashion show for us, bug. Sara’s told me you used to do them for her when you get new clothes, let us see ‘em!”

the cadence in which he speaks, though i know it’s not his intention, makes me feel small. like i’m a child and not only one year younger than him. and yet, the idea that he wants to see me model all of my new clothes makes my heart flutter in my chest; nearly pounding against the bars of the cage i keep it in, wanting nothing more than for me to confess my feelings right then and there on the fabric couch of my living room, a rom-com, annoyingly fitting of the moment, paused on the tv, and my best friend sat right beside me.

“she told you that?”

“yeah,” his brows furrow, “she tells me plenty of stories of when you guys were younger. i love that she loves you.”

right. this is about her, not me.

i smile halfheartedly as Sara walks back into the room, taking her place back on the couch and underneath Jack’s arm.

for a moment, i wonder if he would still be so smitten if he knew that she doesn’t look at him the way that i do… the way that he looks at her. if he would still pine after her and bend to her will if he knew that she had been going on dates with one of the boys on the soccer team, and that she looked at him with stars in her eyes, the same way Jack looks at her. if he would still look past me, still think of me as nothing more than Sara’s little sister, if he knew she had no intentions to ever make something more of their friendship.

would he move on from her? look for someone else to give his affection to? and would i be wildly insane to wonder if it would be me?

“i actually think i’ll pass,” i finally speak again, a lovelorn quirk to my lips, “don’t want Sara getting any ideas to steal any of my new clothes.”

my sister laughs, eyes twinkling as she winks at me, “i’ll see them next time i go shopping in your closet, don’t worry.”

a small flash of disappointment shines through in Jack’s beautiful blue eyes before he nods, “alright, maybe next time.”

*** January 8th, 2023 ***

“Jack!” my voice carries over the noise of a crowded shoe store in New York City, pushing my way through the people as i watch Jack’s head whip around in confusion. “Jack!”

his eyes scan the store, only landing upon me once i’ve finally made my way through the gaggle of people, now a mere few feet from him.

a bright grin spreads across his face, eyes twinkling, “bug!”

his laugh permeates my ears as i launch myself at him, arms latching around his shoulders and making him teeter in place before finding his core balance, his arms spindling around my waist.

“what are you doing here?” he questions as we pull away, his hands still resting on my waist.

“in a shoe store, or in New York?”

“New York, obviously.” he chuckles.

“girls trip! we were bored out of our minds and decided to spend a couple weeks here.” i explain, craning my neck to see if i can spot my friends in the hectic store.

“we?” he repeats, “is…”

my smile dims at his forlorn yet hopeful expression, shaking my head, “oh, no. she’s not here.”

“i came with some friends.” i tell him and he nods, letting out a seemingly relieved breath. “i’m sorry again, Jack. i can’t believe she-”

“let’s not.” he interjects, “if that’s okay? i’d rather not talk about it.”

i agree, my sisters final rejection of him being the last thing on the list of topics i’d like to discuss with my unrequited teenage love.

“who’s this?” someone cuts in, a hand slapping down on Jack’s shoulder. the new guest has a heavy accent, a neat scruff adorning his face… he’s cute.

“oh, Neeks, this is bug, or sorry, y/n.” Jack’s hands drop from my waist, a long-familiar shiver running through me at the loss of his touch. turning partly towards his friend, Jack’s face brightens again. “y/n, this is my captain, Nico.”

“y/n,” Nico parrots, “you’re Sara’s sister, right?”

it takes everything in me not to cringe, having worked so hard to make myself into my own person now; no longer used to being known as ‘Sara’s sister’ like i was in school.

“yeah.” i sigh, nodding my head, “that’s me.”

i should’ve known better than to think i could be my own person when it comes to Jack. that i could be someone more than the girl who used to follow he and my sister around everywhere.

even with Jack’s new friends, ones that have no connection to me or Sara, i’m still just the little sister of the girl who broke his heart.

“she’s not just Sara’s sister.” Jack tells his captain. he slings an arm around my shoulder, that once disappeared flutter reappearing in my chest, “this girl is the best friend of Spencer Knight and Cole Caufield. she used to go everywhere with us.”

and just like that, the flutter is gone, died out in a sudden burst of flames.

Jack looks down at me, “have you spoken to them recently?”

“yeah.” i force a smile. “i speak to them almost every day.”

“sorry to cut the reunion short, but Jack, we have to go soon.” Nico speaks, gaining Jack’s attention again, “it was nice to meet you, y/n. hopefully i’ll see you again.”

Jack backs away, looking at me again, “text me! you should come to the lake house this summer!”

*** June 20th, 2024 ***

last summer, i spent two weeks of July at the Hughes lake house; my days filled by boating, tanning, and golfing; my nights consisting of bonfires and bars.

it was nice, being surrounded by people i’ve known since high school. i had even convinced Spencer to join me on the trip, though he ended up staying longer than i did.

i felt like those two weeks really helped me solidify myself as more than just ‘Sara’s sister’ to the guys, which provided me with a sense of closure with Jack.

no longer was my mind plagued of thoughts about him anymore. my nights no longer accompanied by dreams of the sweet, blue-eyed boy that i so desperately loved in high school. i felt free.

for the first time since i met him, i was able to date without holding out an unrealistic hope that he would randomly tell me he loved me back.

not long after returning home from the lake house, i met Ryan; a lawyer who knew nothing about the hockey world, which i felt was exactly what i needed.

he asked me out and for once in my life, i was able to say yes without feeling guilty. without feeling like somehow i was cheating on my unrequited love. i was finally able to move on from high school love, for the most part.

on our first few dates, i opened up to Ryan; i told him all about how inexperienced i really was with the dating scene and exactly why. i told him about my six years of unreturned love for my sisters ex-best friend. i told him that i was still friends with him but that i felt that love was in the past. and he was okay with it, he was understanding and sincere and he wanted to be the one i moved on with.

within a few months, i was moved in with Ryan, and now here we are, only a month short of our one year anniversary.

only an hour ago, i arrived to the lake house for the second summer in a row. this time, for a full month of relaxation and catching up with friends. Ryan would meet me here for the last week of my month, it not being quite as easy for him to get away from work as it is for me, and i can’t wait to introduce him to the friends who made high school so easy for me.

**

“y/n!” my peaceful tanning takes a turn when most of the guys arrive back from the grocery store, Trevor appearing to be the most excited to see me.

my eyelids peel open, hand rising to flick my sunglasses to the top of my head as i look over at the hyper hockey player, “hi, Trev.”

his hands slip into mine, helping me up from the lounge chair in order to sweep me into a tight hug.

“how’s life been?” he grins, pulling back and slinging his arm around my shoulder as he guides us into the house.

i can hear the ruckus of rowdy boys from outside, though that’s not at all shocking, in my experience.

“it’s been great.” my mind flickers to my boyfriend, the one who texted me merely thirty minutes ago to make sure i made it here safe, promising to call me when he gets his lunch break, “really great.”

at my pink cheeks and surely dopey smile, Trevor guffaws, pinching my cheek as we step into the house, “did our little bug get a boyfriend?!”

the house goes silent, Trevor’s voice bouncing off the walls and echoing through the downstairs.

“i’m not little.” i mumble, effectively embarrassed by the overwhelming reaction to the news, “i’m only a year younger than you.”

Cole and Spencer are the only two who already knew of the progression in my dating life, being the two people i talk to the most.

“you have a boyfriend?” a voice chimes from my left, and i look over to find Jack, his face soft and his hands full of grocery bags.

i bite back a smile, suddenly feeling hot under all their gazes. nodding, i speak again, “yeah, his name is Ryan. he’s the plus-one i asked about.”

“he’s here?!” Trevor shouts in exasperation.

i giggle, shaking my head at the way the guys all start looking around, all but Jack, “no! he’s coming in a few weeks! he can’t get off work so easily.”

Trevor drags me to the couch, Jack’s eyes following me as he sets the groceries on the table, slowly dragging his feet behind everyone towards the living room.

“what does he do?” “how old is he?” “is he treating you right?” “is he a hockey fan?” “is he hot?”

my brows furrow at the last question thrown at me, looking at Alex in bewilderment, “what? i feel like it’s a good question.”

a hearty laugh drops from my lips, lowering myself to the couch in preparation to answer their many questions.

“he’s a lawyer, he’s twenty-nine, he treats me amazingly, he’s not a hockey fan, and i think he’s pretty hot.”

a collective gasp is heard around the room, my friends looking at me in utter disbelief, “he’s not a hockey fan?”

Cole shudders, as if the idea is the worst thing possible, “you left that out.”

“i couldn’t have you hating on him!” i shout in defense. my eyes scan the room of guys, finally landing on Jack, who stands in the entrance of the room, his hands in his pockets and his lips downturned.

“is that really what you guys are focusing on?” he scoffs and my eyebrows pinch in confusion at his sour mood, “he’s seven years older than her, and you guys are more worried about the fact that he doesn’t like hockey?”

a small part of me feels like a teenager again, honored that he’s so worried about me, but a much larger part of me is offended for both me and my boyfriend.

“i’m an adult, Jack. i can make my own decisions and i’m very aware of Ryan and i’s age gap, but if i’m not uncomfortable with it then why should you be?”

Jack raises a brow at my spiteful tone, clearly not used to having it used on him, “i’ve known you for nearly seven years, bug. i’m just looking out for you.”

“well don’t,” i sneer, “i didn’t ask for you to look out for me. it’s not your job.”

the other boys squirm amidst the tension between Jack and i, Quinn the first to speak up again.

“so, how serious are you guys?”

Quinn’s question gathers my attention again, butterflies swarming in my stomach as i remember a moment just a couple weeks ago.

“i think he’s gonna propose soon.” i confess, my face burning as Spencer lets out an ‘ooooh!’

“i found a ring in his nightstand drawer a few weeks ago, i think he might do it on our anniversary.”

Cole reacts first, pulling me in for a hug as the others cheer out a premature ���congratulations’, only one member of the group staying silent. but when i look back at the living room entrance, Jack is gone.

“i think this calls for some boating!” Trevor sings out, already jumping up from his seat to go get changed.

“you just want an excuse to go out on the boat!” Luke yells, Trevor nodding in agreement as he disappears up the stairs.

**

after an entire week of boating, wakesurfing, and golfing, we end our sunday night around a bonfire.

orange flames lick at the air, the added heat making the summer night sweltering. yet, most of us can be found sitting around the fire pit, enjoying each other’s company.

“dude, she wasn’t flirting with you.” Cole yells across the blazing fire to Trevor, who’s still convinced the girl he met this afternoon was hitting on him.

“she so was!” Trevor huffs, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

almost everyone rolls their eyes, the rest of us knowing the girl was incredibly uninterested in the hyperactive twenty-three year old.

“y/n, she was flirting with me, right?!” Trevor turns to me, eyes wide in await of my agreement, but it never comes.

scrunching my nose, my head shakes in denial, making him groan.

“the only other girl has spoken… that was not flirting!” Spencer announces, “better luck next time, Z.”

“i don’t think y/n would know flirting if it hit her in the face. she doesn’t count.” Jack laughs, raising his beer up to his lips as he smirks at my offended expression.

“i have a boyfriend! i know what flirting looks like!”

“a soon to be fiancé.” Alex wiggles his eyebrows, shimmying his shoulders in a teasing manner as he stands up, “i’m heading inside, it’s too hot out here.”

a few others mutter in agreement, rising from their chairs and following him into the house, leaving just me, Spencer, and Jack.

i sit in silence, watching the flames as the two boys converse, not yet ready to head inside. instead, i’m pulled off in my own thoughts, my mind twisting as i think of this past week.

i thought Jack and i were fine. he said last summer that he didn’t hold my sisters rejection against me, but now i’m wondering if he was lying. ever since i’ve arrived, he’s been nothing but cold shouldered and a bit bitter towards me.

but the oddest part is that it hurts me more than i’d like it to. it feels like my teenage years all over again, vying for his attention and affections, desperate for him to love me. i thought i was over this unreciprocated love, but now here i am again, my only comfort being the knowledge that Jack doesn’t love me like that, but i have someone back home who does.

Spencer’s lips press to the crown of my head, pulling my head out of my thoughts.

“i’m heading inside.” he tells me, earning a nod of acknowledgment from me as i tell him i’ll probably be in soon.

and then there were two.

Jack and i sit in silence for a while, neither of us daring to break the peace as we admire the fire. i push up from my seat, stepping a bit closer to the fire pit in order to watch the orange burn of the logs.

“don’t marry him.”

my head snaps over to Jack, his eyes now glued to me as my face contorts in confusion.

“what?” i gawk.

“don’t marry him.” he repeats, finally standing from his chair.

“why?”

“why?” he scoffs, “you know why.”

my mind is racing, my heart beating wildly in my chest as i turn to face him completely.

“no.” i shake my head, realization settling deep within the pits of my stomach, “no.”

“yes.” he steps closer, a mere 5 feet from me now, and i instinctively take a step back.

all week he’s been sour towards me and i’ve wondered what it meant, and now i know. he’s upset.

upset with me for finding someone else.

“no. Jack, you’re being mean.” i frown. old feelings rise inside of me, nausea plaguing me as tears spring to my eyes, and Jack closes up the space between us, his hand grasping my arm lightly, “stop it, stop it!”

“what? how am i being mean?” he mumbles, brows threading together as i shake off his touch.

“i have been second to Sara my whole life. in everything!” i cry lightly, “and i will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her.”

i step away, slowly backing up towards the house, still facing the man who held my heart for so long, only now wanting me when i’m finally taken.

“i won’t-” i stutter, gasping for breath, “i won’t do it. i won’t. not when i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

Jack’s lips part as he stands in place, as if shocked. as though he wasn’t expecting such an easy confession to tumble from my lips.

“you just-” i sigh, tears spilling over my waterline as i freeze, the joints of my thumbs being pressed to my eyes in attempt to stop my crying, “why don’t you want me to be happy, Jack?

“i spent six years pining for you. i would’ve done anything to get you to love me. and all you wanted was her! and i don’t hate you for that, i can’t be mad at you, you can’t help who you love; but now that i’ve tried to move on, you want to tell me that i shouldn’t marry him? you don’t even love me!”

anger bubbles within me at the audacity that he holds, my hand flying between us in emphasis of my emotions.

“yes, i do!” he spits back, stepping towards me, “don’t tell me what i feel! just because i may not have felt it back then doesn’t mean i can’t feel it now!”

“you only want me because you can’t have her!” i argue.

“you keep saying that but that’s not true! and no matter how many times you say it, it’s not just gonna magically become true, y/n!

“maybe you want to be right because it would make this easier on you. but the truth is that spending time with you without Sara around just gave me the opportunity to get to know the real you. and yes, maybe i didn’t love you like this then, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that i love you now.”

his chest heaves as he closes the space between us once more, staring down at me the exact way that i’ve looked at him all these years; like i’m the only person in the world for him. like i hung the stars in the sky to shine just for him. like i hold his heart in my hands, the fate of his existence weighing in my decisions.

“i love the way you smile and the way that you speak so softly.” he whispers breathily, “i love seeing you in your glasses late at night, and the fact that somehow you’re always cold. i love your kind heart and the way that you care about everyone you meet, so easily. i love your smart mind and the fact that even though you know you’re smarter than literally everyone here, you don’t show it off or make us feel dumb. instead, you correct us lightly, even if it’s Trevor being stubborn and insisting he’s right.”

i let out a raspy chuckle at his words, tears still silently falling down my cheeks.

“i love your determination and that when you set your mind to something, you achieve it. i love your good and even what you say are your flaws. i love you, y/n. and i’m sorry that i didn’t see it before. tell me to back off and i will. tell me you choose him and i’ll leave you alone, i won’t push it. but i needed to tell you how i feel before it was too late.”

he finally ends his speech, his eyes flickering between my own and my lips.

my mind feels numb yet entirely too full with this new knowledge, and i can’t process it all with him staring at me expectantly.

“can i think about this? please?” i question, pulling away, “this is a lot for me to process right now and i need some time, Jack.

“i spent so long trying to get over you. i thought you would never like me the way that i like you, and now you’re telling me this and i have to make a decision and i just-”

“of course.” Jack cuts me off, nodding, “take however long you need. i don’t want you to feel rushed; really think about it, bug. i don’t want you to choose me just because you feel like you have to. if you want him, then choose him. but if you want me, i’m here. i’m telling you that i love you and i want you, and i’ll wait however long you need.”

i nod, turning and finally walking into the house, hands swiftly wiping at my cheeks to try and get rid of my tears before i reach the door, but it’s useless. just as fast as i wipe the old tears, new ones follow.

“and i— y/n, you okay?” Luke asks, stopping his story to the guys as i rush through the living room and towards the stairs.

i stop at the first step, sniffling but not turning to face them, “yeah, i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

a chorus of ‘goodnight’s are shouted my way as i ascend the stairs, shutting myself in my bedroom and locking the door.

crumpling to the bed, my tears won’t stop, heavy sobs wracking my chest.

hours pass by slowly until it’s eight in the morning, my body exhausted and aching from tossing and turning all night. i couldn’t shut my mind off, no matter how hard i tried.

i feel so conflicted, my heart being pulled into two directions, but i know that one direction is stronger than the other.

no matter how hard i tried to move on, i should’ve known that there was no ‘moving on’ from Jack. those feelings would always linger, still hidden under the guise of closure and friendship.

Jack is my home. my heart will always lie with him, no matter how long passes or who i meet.

my thumb hovers over Ryan’s contact, shaking but otherwise frozen, my body overwhelmed with anxiety at what might await me at the other end of the phone call.

the dial tone rings out, my cellphone now being pressed to my ear as i await the greeting from the other side.

“hey, babe. i was just about to call you.”

“you were?” my tone is raspy and low, my throat sore from crying.

“yeah, somethings come up. i don’t think i can make it on the trip like we planned.” a sense of relief fills me at his words.

“oh, that’s okay. i actually think i’m gonna come back early.” i tell him, my eyes staring straight ahead of me at my half packed suitcase.

“why’s that?”

“i think we need to talk.” i confess, pressure building back up on my chest as i think about the conversation awaiting me back home.

Ryan sighs gently and i can hear some papers being shuffled around, the creak of a door shutting before he speaks again.

“did you sleep with him?”

“what?” i’m appalled, my lips parted in disbelief.

“Jack. did you sleep with him?” he wonders so easily, like he just assumed it would happen.

“no!” i scoff.

“then it’s okay.” he replies, and though i don’t know how he would know, i can tell; he knows what i have to tell him. “i expected it. i really liked you, and i know you really liked me, but i’ve known from the start that i couldn’t compare to him.

“you may have have liked me, but you love him.” he tells me, “i just hope he doesn’t take you for granted, because you deserve the best. and if he is that for you, then i’m happy for you. but if he treats you like anything less… don’t settle, y/n.”

just when i had thought i had nothing left to give, more tears run down my rose tinted cheeks, “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.” he’s stern with his words, showing me he means them, “i assume he told you how he feels?”

“yeah.” i sigh, “he loves me.”

“then don’t be sorry. you deserve to love and to be loved.”

“thank you.”

he mutters a goodbye, the call ending, and i feel a sense of determination flood through my veins.

rising off my bed, i fling open my bedroom door, stomping down the steps until i reach the kitchen, where i can hear the boys discussing the plan for the day.

at my whirlwind arrival, the boys silence, watching me with baited breath and curious eyes as i stalk towards Jack, who stands frozen at the counter.

“what’s going o-” Trevor’s words are quieted by the sound of my hand smacking against Jack’s cheek. the boys gasping at my action before Trevor begins to laugh.

“that’s for waiting so long.” i huff and Jack nods robotically.

“so i’m guessing that’s a no?” he wonders, voice solemn, as though accepting defeat.

“shut up.” i whisper.

my hands glide over his shoulders, wrapping around the nape of his neck as i pull him down towards me, crashing my lips upon his in a bruising kiss.

“oh!” “what the fuck!”

our friends reactions are thoroughly ignored, Jack’s hands coming to rest on my waist, his fingers gripping into my hips as he deepens the kiss. his tongue slides past my parted lips, but i pull away before we can get any farther in front of our friends.

“and that’s my decision.” i whisper, a beautiful smile spreading across his lips, “don’t make me regret it.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it, bug.”

[emilys-bangs]

made for loving you | e.p

Tags: established relationship, mom!emily, fluff (tooth rotting fluff), no use of yn

Summary: A slow morning with her baby—and a striking revelation—is exactly what the doctor ordered this weekend.

Word count: 1.3k

“I’d have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled with books, and I’d write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie’s music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle—something heroic or wonderful, that won’t be forgotten after I’m dead.” 

Emily frowns at the page, unintentionally trailing off into silence. Her eyes linger on the word dead. Innocuous and entirely meaningless to her four-month-old—and yet, with the sound of Eloise’s breaths next to her ear and the lingering scent of milk in the still morning air, it seems entirely too dark.

She covers it with her thumb and hears a small voice whisper in the back of her head, you’re being ridiculous. 

Emily ignores it. 

“I think that might be too heavy of a word for you to hear now, sweet girl. Shouldn’t add it to your vocabulary this early.” She murmurs, turning to look at a somewhat distracted Eloise. Her daughter is busy gnawing at the toy in her hand, legs restlessly kicking in the air, but her eyes are fixed on her mother. A warmth pulses in Emily’s chest. It travels up to her temples, effectively silences the nagging thought in her head.

She sets Little Women down and gently swipes some of Eloise’s hair away from her forehead. “Don’t you think? Maybe she could’ve said, “after I’m gone”, but Jo does have a flair for the dramatics, I’m sure you’ve noticed.” Eloise drops the toy with a rattle, mumbling a coo as she holds out her hand toward Emily’s face. Emily takes it before her nails dig into her cheek, gently helping her daughter roll until she’s halfway resting on her chest. “Mommy used to be like that, you know. When I was her age. Though it was more of a cry for attention than a personality trait, huh?” Brown clashes with brown, and Emily smiles as she brings a small hand to her lips. “Didn’t work too well for me, I’d say.”

Her back is starting to ache where it presses down onto the hard floor beneath her, but the discomfort seems distant. Insubstantial. There’s more else to focus on: her daughter’s slight weight on her chest, the sound of Eloise’s babbles gently bending the early morning silence. The sun slowly warms both of them up as it streams in through the windows. You’re still asleep—cuddling a snoring Sergio last she’d checked—and after nearly two weeks of being away, Emily can finally feel herself mend at the seams. 

Just this is enough. Reading quietly to her daughter (making up for lost bedtime stories) and breathing her in for a few still beats, feeling unintelligible baby babble getting stifled into her cheek—it stitches her back together. Soon you’ll wake up, and she’ll make you coffee and breakfast, and she’ll trap the morning in amber, preserving it in her memory. Something to keep her going when she inevitably leaves again.

But that’s later.

Now Eloise is trying to crawl onto her chest. She wiggles restlessly, trying to hook her leg onto Emily’s stomach. It doesn’t stay, the cotton of her onesie—or simply the lacking strength of four month old limbs—dragging her knee back down until it falls to the floor. Eloise whines, a tearless sob working in her throat.

“It’s okay,” Emily soothes. “You can do it. I’ve got you, Mommy’s got you.” When she tries again, fists clenched in her tank top, Emily gently nudges the backs of her knees until she slides onto her chest. “See, there we go.” She says, her voice warm with pride. “Big girl.”

Eloise smiles, the wobble in her lips smoothing out. She lets out a pleased coo, dropping her forehead down too hard on Emily’s chin and nuzzling into it. Emily stifles a wince. Her hand comes up to cup the back of Eloise’s head, the soft bedhead tickling her fingers. As she’s combing through it, she hears a door creaking open, then thudding closed. She closes her eyes, combs through one, two, three loose curls, then drags herself up from the floor.

Eloise babbles in her ear as she stretches the best she can, wincing at the pain in her lower back. Emily pulls an arm over her shoulder. Something cracks; Eloise stares, her eyes widening at the echo of a loud pop that could possibly be her elbow. 

Emily laughs quietly, dropping a kiss on her temple. “Just my bones, sweet girl. They’re too old for this, I think.” She shifts her onto her hip and pads into the kitchen. “Though I do think the rug needs changing. It’s too thin. I mean, I’m not that old, am I?”

She gets a babble in return.

“Exactly right,” Emily agrees. She flips on the kettle, “You always—”

Her phone rings. 

Briefly, her mouth goes dry. It’s the weekend. Her first weekend in nearly half a month. Emily’s eyes are half closed as she fishes it out of her pocket. Please, please, please—

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Emily Prentiss? Eloise’s mom?”

Emily goes loose. The breath rushes out of her, dizzyingly fast, her frown taken over by a dazzling grin. It splits beneath her teeth, wide and unrestrained at two little words at the tail end of the sentence. 

Eloise’s mom.

Emily clears her throat, holding tighter to Eloise when she wiggles against her shoulder. “Yes. Yes, this is her. Eloise’s mom.”

“Great! I’m calling to let you know that she’s been taken off the waitlist. We’ll be ready for her by Monday…”

The rest of the call doesn’t take very long, but she still finds it hard to focus. Everything blurs but for the lingering sound of Eloise’s mom and the distant hum of the woman’s voice through the phone, telling her that the daycare opens at seven, closes at six, and that it’d be best if you could pack Eloise a change of clothes. Emily hums her affirmative, squishes the phone between her shoulder and her ear to hold Eloise’s hand back from reaching for the whistling kettle. 

It’s always felt a little surreal that she would be entirely responsible for a whole other person, but that fact is slowly starting to solidify. She’s a parent. A parent to a sweet little baby who has her eyes and the edges of your smile. This—being held safely under her mother’s chin, having sweet nothings whispered into her hair—is all Eloise has ever known.

And she made that happen. You both did.

She’s staring down at the infant in her arms when you come into the kitchen, sleep lines on your cheek, your coffee still unmade.

“What is it?” You mumble, eyes half shuttered to block out the light.

Emily hugs Eloise tighter to her chest. Her head slots under her chin, tiny hands clasping the thin straps on Emily’s shoulders. “I’m her mom.” She says quietly, the words muffled into petal-soft skin. 

Well, no shit. That’s what you should say. She’s been her mom, for four months—for even longer, if you’re counting the months she’d been growing under her skin. You’ve both been parents in every sense of the word, for about long enough to get used to now. It’s not exactly news, is it? 

But you don’t say that. Smiling, you make your way into the kitchen, tuck her hair away from her watering eyes, and reaffirm those three, sacred words.

“You are her mom,” you say. A knot stirs in the back of her throat, growing when you cup her cheek with a warm hand and drop a kiss on her forehead. “You’re her mom, babe.”

Emily closes her eyes, dampness lining her lashes. Her next breath gets caught in her chest. It rattles around in her lungs, hitching onto the edge of a rib and splitting as she breathes it out. 

She feels your arms come around her, hears Eloise coo as you greet her softly, and traps the image in her head. Soaks it in amber. Watches as you and her and Eloise get suffused with gold.

Just this is enough.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu @ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights @professorsapphic @decadentcatcrusade @piiinco@jareavsheavn @mourningthewicked@heartoreadallthequeerthingz

[riordanness]

champagne problems — [l.laurence]

wordcount: 3.2K

warnings: angst

requested: no

a/n: i really love this fic, i spent a super long time on it and it took me ages but i love it so i hope you love it too <3

“Thank you,” I tell my dance partner, another nameless, tasteless, personality-less boy I will never see again. I smile and curtsy, and turn away, as I do every time. No one will ever fill the hole in my heart the way that he did.

I spot Amy talking to Fred, and weave my way towards them. I don’t know anyone else by anything more than name, and it’s awkward. It’s stiff, it’s strange, and it’s uncomfortable. Trying to make friends with these men, men who couldn’t care less about my feelings or my ambitions; just my pretty face and my willingness to marry. Once they discovered I didn’t have my heart in that; at least not anymore, they lost all interest in me.

“Hey, y/n,” Amy greets me, offering me a glass of what I think is champagne.

“Thank you,” I tell her, and take a sip.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Fred addresses me.

I shrug, and try to smile. “It is alright.”

Amy has a sympathetic look on her face. She knows me a little bit too well. All the March sisters do, as well as… him. He knew me better than anyone. Or at least that’s what I thought.

“Laurie!” I laughed, giggling so hard I couldn’t even escape him. His arms caught me tightly, poking and tickling my waist. I squirmed, but the pure joy of being with him was almost overwhelming.

“What?” he teased. “What’s wrong, y/n? Hmm?”

“S-Stop!” I gasped for air, playfully hitting him on the arm. Well, it was a pretty hard punch, actually.

“Ow! Y/n!” Laurie released me and winced, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry!” I tried to stop laughing.

He stared at me for a heartbeat, and just as my smile faded, he then grinned. “Gotcha.”

His happiness was infectious. I was smiling again, laughing again, purely and completely content to live forever in this moment.

“Y/n.”

Amy’s voice is a warning, and my brain only hears it a minute after I should. “Hmm?” I ask, glancing up at her. She’s used to my daydreaming, so I assume she’ll just repeat her comment, but Amy isn’t looking at me. She’s staring sternly at the staircase at the entrance of this ballroom.

I turn, and there’s a half moment of anticipation. Who has arrived?

Then, I see him. His wrinkled white shirt, untied bow tie. The glass of alcohol held lazily in his hand. His unruly curls are even more uncombed and unkempt than usual. His eyes are light with mirth and dull from the drink. Two women are fawning over him from either side, and he’s drinking up the attention more eagerly than the champagne.

Laurie.

My breath catches in my throat, and I try to swallow the sudden lump there. “Ah, I see.”

Fred puts a hand on my shoulder, a protective, big-brother gesture. I really appreciate him. No matter how many times I end up basically third-wheeling him and Amy when they go out, he never minds. Amy has told him all about what Laurie did to me, so he decided to step in and try to help fill that hole.

And I love him for it, but no one will ever be capable of making me whole the way Laurie did. And I’m not sure if anyone ever will be able to.

I take a cautious sip of champagne, watching as Laurie drapes himself on a lounge on the opposite side of the room. The girls with him sink to their knees on either side of his body, fawning over the boy.

I don’t care how much expression is visible on my face right now; I can’t do anything but stare in a mix of disgust, disappointment and utter disbelief.

Then, he sees me. His eyes clear a little, they get wide and surprised all of a sudden. He attempts to sit up a little straighter.

I can’t watch anymore. I turn and shove my glass unceremoniously in Fred’s hands, and walk out of the room as quickly as I can manage, heading to the little moonlit garden path I know awaits me outside.

I laugh as Jo tells me about her plans for a new story.

“I want to turn this one into a play,” she adds. “And you should be in it! The main character is just the perfectest part for you to play, y/n.”

I roll my eyes teasingly. “First of all, ‘perfectest’ isn’t a word. And second, you know I don’t act. I’m not going to be any good!”

Jo shrugs. “Won’t know until you’ve tried it.”

I don’t answer, my gaze sliding back to all the dancers on the floor. I wish someone would ask me to dance. But I know no one here other than the March girls. And I can’t exactly dance with Jo. She has a burnt dress and isn’t allowed to dance. Not that she minds; she says she’d rather eat a stick than dance with any of the boys here.

Then, I see a boy with dark curls and pretty eyes staring at me from across the room. I tilt my head, and give a little wave and a half-smile.

He returns it immediately and makes his way over towards us.

“Hello there,” he greets me. “I’m Laurie.”

Jo looks at him. “You’re the Laurence boy. You live near us.”

Laurie nods his head at her. “Miss March.”

“Please. Call me Jo. Everyone does.”

“Jo.”

Laurie then glances at me. “I don’t think I know you.”

I hold my hand out to him. “Y/n, Mr Laurie. I’m friends with the Marches.”

He smiles again, and it’s so pretty my chest hurts. Is this what falling in love is like? Is it supposed to be painful? Supposed to feel like you’re being ripped apart and glued together all at the same time?

I lean myself on the wall outside, my head against the cool stone bricks. My head is pounding, my temples aching.

I didn’t think that seeing him again would have such a strong reaction from me, but apparently even my heart rate still hurts because of him.

I can hear footsteps, but I don’t have the energy to hide my distress from anyone right now. Hopefully whoever it is will just walk by and leave me be.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Laurie’s voice will forever bring me the biggest rush of emotions in the world, but where it used to invite happiness and joy, now entices fear and anxiety and anguish.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Hello Laurie.” I’m surprised at how even my voice sounds. I expected it to come out shaky and distant.

“Hey.” He sounds unsure of what he’s doing. “What’s happening with you?”

My eyes are still closed, and I still have my head against the rocky wall. I shrug one shoulder. “Nothing much, thanks for asking.”

There’s three heartbeats of silence.

Then: “How are you?”

I sigh, open my eyes. “Laurie. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes are unreadable. “Doing what?”

“You know what.”

“Y/n, I…” His voice fades. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I give him a hard look. “Sorry? Laurie, this isn’t about what happened all those years ago. I’m over it; I’m over you.” I was lying through my teeth, but I refused to give him the satisfaction that knowledge would bring.

I sigh. “What are you doing, Laurie?” I wave my hand at him helplessly. “Drinking, probably gambling again? Fawning over random girls? Laurie, you’re better than this. And you know it, too. You’re throwing your life away, and I…” I swallow. “As your friend, I can’t just sit and watch. You need to stop this. Go home, go see your grandfather. Stop destroying the little boy he used to be so proud of.”

I turn, and walk away, leaving Laurie out there in the moonlight.

I don’t breathe until I reach Fred and Amy again. They’re laughing and drinking champagne together, but when they see me, the conversation dies.

“Hey, you okay?” Amy asks.

I try to nod, then tears glisten in my eyes and I have to drop. I shake my head, meeting my friend’s eyes. “I’m gonna go home,” I tell her.

She nods in understanding, her eyes searching mine, desperate for answers.

“I told him what he needed to hear,” I say quickly. “But—he still doesn’t know how much it hurts. And it hurts just to see him. It hurts deep in my soul. I—I can’t—“ I have to force myself to take a deep breath, sobs building in my chest.

I leave, Amy’s hand squeezing mine as I go.

I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling as ‘Aunt’ March chatters about how Fed and Amy are soon to be engaged, so I really must hurry and marry soon.

“Are you even listening to me, y/n?” she asks sharply.

I sit up straight in an instant. “Uh—yes of course, Ms March.”

“How many times must I ask you to call me Aunt,” she sighs. “You’re practically family at this point, my dear.”

I smile. “Alright, Aunt March.”

“Very good. Now, as I was saying…”

I zone back out as she talks, my mind drifting instead to Laurie. I truly had thought I was over him, or at least pretty much so. Rather, the moment I saw him, I thought I might explode. Seeing his smile, his eyes, the way he stands, it made all the memories just come flooding back.

“Laurie—“ I call, walking into his room one pretty Saturday morning. “Get up lazy bones. We’ve got things to do!”

The only response is a groan from underneath Laurie’s covers. I sit on the edge and poke at him.

“Come on!” I beg. “We’re gonna be late, you know.”

Laurie’s curls peep out. “Late for what?” he asks groggily.

I resist the urge to giggle. “Late for our adventures, of course. We have a walk planned, and you promised me you’d teach me fencing this weekend, and you have to keep that promise. It was a pinky promise.”

Laurie groans again. “I don’t want to get up, y/n.”

“What? Even to spend time with me?”

“Yes. Go away.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Theodore Laurence, not until you get—up—“ I poke him in the shoulder twice.

“Y/n!” he whines.

I laugh. “Yes, Laurie?”

He sticks his head fully out now, and looks at me. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, but I am not getting up yet.”

I ignore the flutter in my chest and grab his arm, pulling him hard. “Yes you are! I promised your grandfather I’d force you to exercise while he’s gone, and I intend to keep my promise.”

“Fine,” Laurie relents. He allows me to drag him out of bed, and after he’s dressed, the two of us head off into our favourite trail in the woods.

My heart hurts, and my head hurts, and my eyes hurt. I want to get up, go for a walk or something, but I can’t find it in me to do so. So I simply close my eyes and continue to lay face-up along the foot of my four-poster bed.

It doesn’t seem like long at all before someone is tapping my shoulder.

“Sorry, Amy,” I mumble, eyes still closed. “Did I drift off?”

“It’s… not Amy,” a quiet voice answers.

I sit up straight immediately, and come face to face with none other than Laurie Laurence.

“Hi.” He almost says it like a question.

I frown a little, unsure of the nature of this unexpected visit. “Hello, Laurie.”

He winces a little. “Look, you don’t have to say anything. You said plenty last night.”

“You needed to hear it,” I retort.

“I know.” He lets out his breath. “I’ve been thinking, all night, about what you said. You were right, you were right about all of it. I am wasting my life, I’m ruining everything because of one stupid mistake that unravelled it all. And–and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, in all the ways that I have. You don’t deserve a friend like me; you never did.”

He stands to go, and for a heartbeat, I think about letting him. But then,

“Laurie!”

“Laurie!”

I see him, walking along the street as I pass on the other side. I immediately break away from Jo, who I was escorting to town. “I'll see you later, Jo.”

She smiles knowingly and shoos me off. “Bye, y/n/n.”

“Laurie!” I call again, running to catch up with him.

At the sound of my voice, he half-turns, double-takes, and then his face breaks into a wide grin, the way he always saves just for me. “Y/n!”

I run right until I’m in his arms. “I missed you,” I sigh into his hair. “When did you get back?”

I feel him smiling. “Only just this morning. I was going to surprise you, but you beat me to it, tesoro mio.”

“Laurie, you know I don’t speak Italian,” I laugh, pulling away slightly to look at him. “I’m not the one who just went to Italy for a year. And don’t use it without telling me the meanings; it’s mean! I never know what you’re saying.”

Laurie has a faint smirk on his face. “Sorry, tesoro mio.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me,” he replies easily, and oh, how badly I want to agree with him out loud. Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, I’m head over heels in love with you.

So I do say it. “Yes,” I say, “I do.”

Laurie blinks at me. “What?”

My mouth opens a little, but for a second, nothing comes out. “I do love you,” I say slowly.

Laurie stares at me. “Why?”

“Everything, Laurie,” I sigh. “You’re kind, and beautiful, and you understand me better than even I can. You’re always there to cheer me up when I need that, and when I’m sad, you’re all too happy to give me your shoulder to cry on. You always know exactly what I’m thinking, and feeling, and you always know the right thing to say. You don’t mind my silly ramblings, or fantasies, and you don't care what anyone thinks of you. You’re always the person I want to be around; Laurie, you make me so happy. I love you, Laurie Laurence, and I think I always have.”

There’s silence for a minute, just a heartbeat too long to feel comfortable. All I can hear are the birds in the trees above us, but their songs sound alarming.

Laurie looks away, then at the sky, and finally back at me. His tongue swipes his lower lip in a way that I know is nervous.

“Y/n,” he says, and his tone instantly crushes me. “I—that’s extremely sweet and beautiful and I love you too, but…”

My heart sinks. “But you love Jo.” A part of me had always known, but I’d tried to convince myself otherwise. Clearly, my instinct had been correct.

“I can’t help it!” Laurie tries to justify himself, but he has no reason to. He can’t help who he’s fallen in love with, just as I cannot help falling in love with him. “I love you, y/n, I truly do. You’re my best friend… but the love I feel for Jo, it’s different. And you’re not her. You will never, and can never be her.”

I feel like someone has ripped my heart from my chest, stepped on it, thrown it into a frozen lake, and shoved it back inside of me. All I can manage is a nod.

“You should probably tell her then,” I whisper, and I turn to go. I can’t bear looking at him any longer.

That was the last time I’d seen Laurie for a very long time. I’d left for Europe with Amy, leaving Laurie and Jo to have a life together, if that’s what they wanted. Turns out Jo never saw him in that way, and he was rejected by her later that very same day.

I was still amazing friends with all the March girls, and I still cradled my childhood memories close to my heart.

But my heart has never healed. Every time Laurie Laurence was on my mind, it stung like only yesterday. Any day that a memory of those long walks, the silly fights, the hugs and dances, the inside jokes and dumb decisions came to me, I’d break down and cry.

“Laurie!”

He stops at the sound of my voice, turns, and his green eyes meet mine. He stares, waiting for me to speak.

“Don’t leave,” I say softly. “Please. Don’t make the mistake I did.”

He turns to fully face me now. “What mistake?”

I let out a breath. “Running. When someone needed me most.”

His eyes clear in understanding. I missed this about him, the way he’d always know exactly what I meant by everything. I never had to explain anything, because Laurie knew my heart. He always understood what I was trying to say, no matter what.

“Y/n—“

I hold my hand to stop his words. “Don’t say anything,” I tell

him. “You don’t have to. You have never, and will never, be under any obligation to return the feelings I have for you. That’s not your fault, and it wasn’t back then, and I’m sorry that I dropped you out of my life after that day. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when Jo turned you down, I’m sorry I never replied or even read your letters. I—“

“You never read my letters?” Laurie’s voice sounds broken.

I stop. “No. I—I didn’t.”

Laurie looks down, his forehead scrunching together. “No wonder…” he mutters. “You… you had no idea.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “No idea about what?”

He glances up, his eyes searching mine, for what I don’t know. “I wrote to you, y/n. Dozens of times. I poured my heart out into those letters. I told you how much I missed you, how badly I was hurting over what I’d said to you that day. I—I told you how Jo helped me to realise that it really was you all along. I’ve been in love with you since I first met you, y/n, and I never stopped. I just didn't realise it. But when you never wrote back, I assumed that was your answer.”

“Oh, Laurie,” I whisper, tears in my voice. “I’m so sorry.” A million thoughts are racing through my mind, but one rises above the others.

“Is it still true?”

He hesitates. “That I love you?”

I nod once. “Yeah.”

“It will always be true.”

And for the first time in a long while, I feel at home again.

[capsiclecevans]

"come to bed with me"

Warnings: fluff, a little emotional, AU where Jacob did die at the end of Defending Jacob

Summary: Andy and Reader are reeling from your first major argument after moving in together and try to deal with the issue together.

Word Count: 1,291

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

⭐︎ ashleigh’s masterlist ⭐︎ | ☾ ashleigh’s taglist ☽

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It had been going on for hours now, the screaming and fighting. You and Andy had argued before this, but not this much. You had never seen Andy this angry before, over something he hasn’t even told you about yet. He was in a foul mood when he had gotten home from work, probably a run in with Neil (again), but he hadn’t told you what it was about. He had scolded you for even being near him when he was in this mood which you pushed back, making his anger rise more than you have ever seen it rise before. 

You were sat on the couch quietly, wiping your silent tears away as you stare at the fireplace, trying to listen to where Andy was in the house. Hoping that you won’t have to speak to him until tomorrow, when his mood might have improved and he has realised that he took his anger out on the wrong person. Heck, if it came to it you would even sleep on the couch or in the spare bedroom if you really had to avoid him and his temper. 

It was the first major argument you have had with Andy since you have moved in with him. You didn’t expect that you would have one that would be blown out of proportion just because Andy was in a bad mood from work. You knew that he didn’t mean to take his anger out on you but you were the only one in the house for him to do so. Maybe, this is what happened when he was with Laurie, maybe this is how she felt? But they were a happy family, weren’t they? Until she ruined everything after Jacob’s trial, killing him because she didn’t believe that he was truly innocent, making Andy leave her and in turn fall in love with you. 

He went out for a run to “calm down”, hopefully he will be in a bit of a better mood but that hadn’t happened as he slammed the door when he walked in, stalking upstairs to have a shower as you made dinner for you both quietly. That was 20 minutes ago and he is still to appear downstairs.

You sigh a little to yourself, moving off the couch to go and grab a blanket, wanting to alleviate the chill you felt from his mood. Usually Andy always tried to cuddle with you once he was back from a run as a joke, knowing that he was sweaty and needed a shower first. But, for the first time since living together, he didn’t. 

You weren’t even sure what was playing on the TV as you were just thinking about the shouting match you both had when he arrived home, you were so inside your own head and thoughts that you didn’t hear Andy walk downstairs slowly to come and find you as it was later than expected and you were usually getting ready for bed by now. 

You finally look up at your boyfriend when he sits next to you slowly, his hair still damp from his shower and the most guilty look on his face. His anger seems to have evaporated whilst he was in the shower. You hadn’t been able to stop crying since he left for his run and the look on his face just breaks your heart as he can see the tears in your eyes. 

“Oh baby…” He murmurs before cupping your cheeks in his hands to wipe away the tears away with his thumbs slowly “I am so sorry that I made you cry…I am sorry that I shouted at you…I am so sorry…” He whispers as he focuses on your tears. 

You close your eyes as he takes gentle care whilst holding your face in his hands. Taking a deep breath before opening your eyes to look at him, you melt into his touch slowly. Your Andy was back and you were eternally grateful as you knew that you would not have been able to not join him in your bed. 

“I have never seen you that angry…” You whisper as you look back at Andy and he nods slowly. A frown graces his face as he remembers how he treated you when he arrived home from the worst day at work he has had in a while. 

He lets a long breath before nodding slowly, his eyes flicking back to yours and he pulls you into his arms. His embrace was comforting, even though he was the one who made you feel like this. “Neil wants to look at Jacob’s case again, the Rifkin’s still do not believe that Jacob is innocent in Ben’s murder…” He says as he holds you close. You could hear the anger in his voice, his son was dead because his own mother didn’t believe him when he said he was innocent, and now the case was going to be looked at again to put the blame on a dead 14-year-old when he was found not guilty originally. 

Andy’s anger earlier was completely justified now you know why he was kicking off. He was going to have to re-live one of the most traumatising parts of his life again, and his son’s death because no-one believed that his son was innocent. Apart from the two of you. When Andy opened up and told you about those traumatic months of his life, you knew that he had fought for his son’s innocence with every fibre of his being, and you believed him when he said that Jacob was innocent. You just knew. You knew that Andy wasn’t lying when he said that Jacob was innocent. 

“Oh Andy…” You say and you look at him sadly, stroking his cheek gently as you watch his reaction carefully. He seems to relax a little as you stroke his cheek, like you were his rock, his support system. “I am so sorry that you have to re-live everything that happened to you and Jacob again, to prove his innocence yet again…that isn’t right what they are doing…” 

Andy sighs and nods before pressing a light kiss to your head as he holds you closer to him, neither of you knew what to say now. Andy’s life was going back under the microscope when it shouldn’t be. 

“Come to bed with me…” 

He said it so softly that you wouldn’t have been able to catch the five words out if the TV wasn’t muted and you weren’t cuddled up to him in his lap. A small smile plays on your lips as you realise that he does still want to share a bed with you tonight, even after the argument you had when he arrived home. 

You look up at him through your lashes before pressing a kiss to his stubble. “Of course I will…I would go anywhere with you…” You whisper against his skin in a promise that you would not be looking at breaking any time soon, since you were deeply in love with the man that you were sharing this house with. 

Andy’s smile is small when he looks down at you, his eyes glistening with tears before he nods and stands up from the couch, holding his hand out for you to take and head up to bed with him. 

You look at him before taking his hand, standing up with him and walks up to your bedroom, knowing that the fight wasn’t over, but you were glad the fight wasn’t between you and Andy anymore. It was against the two of you and the rest of the world who want to contest Jacob’s innocence when he is no longer here to fight himself. 

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

taglist:

andy: @kimberlydyan | @siriuslyslyslytherin | @sushiinmidnight | @bval-1 | @x0xchristine | @coffeebooksandfandom | @sherd-nerd | @titty-teetee | @bellaireland1981 | @tinylumpiaa | @rosalynshields | @lharrietg | @stillmanicc | @sohoseb | @patzammit | @livstilinski | @rogersdrysdalebarber | @wydtrina | @leyannrae | @dontbescaredtosingalong | @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @graciehams | @mansaaay | @fdl305

To join my taglist, just fill out this ☾ ashleigh’s taglist ☽

[slytherin-princess-x]

First day of slytherinmas:

Pretty girl -- Lorenzo x reader

Tw: mention of sex, Enzo kissing readers neck

Summary: sometimes enzo can be quite hot and cold…. (Fluff)

YOUR POV:

I love Enzo, I really do but this boy sure knows how to drive me up the wall whether it’s on purpose or not. He’s either all over me, too close still isn’t close enough; or, he’s the most quiet person ever who would rather sit in silence. Today was that kind of day. Pansy had taken me out earlier this Saturday to Hogsmead for new clothes because we can never have enough outfits, or whatever she said, but, when I got back something was up with enz. I mean he just appeared in my dorm and was lounging on my bed reading a book. Paying no attention to me. At. All. I remember the conversation I had with pansy earlier:

EARLIER:

“Well if he isn’t paying attention to you, just make him”

“And how do you suppose I do that, pansy” I said while shimmying into a sleek, black dress which had a cut up the side to my thigh.

“Make him compliment you, or make him jealous, tell him you’re going out with……Cedric or something, I dunno” she stepped into my changing room “that dress would make me stop ignoring you, damn girl” I laugh at her.

“Thank you but I can’t do that to enzo I’d feel so bad” taking Pansy’s hand she spun me around with a small laugh

“Look, y/n you’re hot. Use that to your advantage” she stands behind me in the mirror fixing my hair and zips up the back of my dress

“What do you mean, pans?”

“Your innocence kills me. Slowly. And painfully. I mean, you could always force his attention away, that’s what I’d do to blaise”

“I really don’t need to hear about yours and blaise’s sexual…..activities” I say scrunching my nose up in fake disgust which she laughed off

“All im saying is mess around with him. Tease him, suck him off, edge him till he’s begging, literally whatever you want but don’t just wait for him to notice how damn good you look in that dress….or out of it”

BACK TO NOW:

Maybe she’s right. I look at the dress hung over the back of my chair, quickly taking it in my arms I walk into the bathroom slipping it on.

LORENZO’S POV:

Damn, I hate it when she’s right, i mean she basically always is right but still. Ugh, this book is good, I mean I can’t believe Jo just like denied Laurie and didn’t marry him and then he married Amy instead like wow….plot…fucking…..twist. I look up from my book to tell y/n that the book is bad because she can’t know I like it and she’s gone, odd.

YOUR POV:

I walk out the bathroom to stand infront of my bedroom mirror once again and see Lorenzo now lying on his back holding the book up. I sigh slightly thinking I’m going to have to resort to one of Pansy’s plans

“I look so ugly, why did I buy this dress” I huff at myself lacing my voice with some lever of sadness

“What?! Who told you that? Did someone say that to you?” His voice came out panicked and full of concern, that I felt bad for doing this.

“No one did, I just look bad” he scrambled off the bed and stood behind me, his hands on my hips rubbing small circles with his thumbs. I try and stress the smirk that’s forcing its way onto my face before he could catch on.

“Your gorgeous y/n, breathtaking” his hand runs up my body to my neck tilting my head up. Sparks fly up and down my spine when he moves my hair away from my neck. I loose track of what he’s saying as my body relaxes against his and his warm breath tickles my neck. “What are you smirking about huh?” He places a kiss to my neck. “Did you just want some attention pretty girl?” He turns me to face him while I mumble a “maybe” while heat rushes up my neck to my face. He wraps a hand around my neck making me look up at him

“You jealous of a book sweetheart? Just want me to yourself, baby?” I hum a yes, closing my eyes slightly feeling the vibrations between my neck and his hand. “How bout I show you how pretty you are? I’ll give you all my attention, yeah?” he took his hand from my neck grabbing the back of my thighs, lifting me up wrapping my legs round his waist. He kneads the skin under my hiked up dress walking me over to me bed and laying me down, hovering over me.

“My pretty girl”

[agendabymooner]

ollie on thin ice(man) || ob8 (+ kr7) scenario

ollie bearman x raikkonen!ofc (ft. dad!kimi raikkonen)

EXTENSION TO ICE ICE BABY (SMAU)

ANOTHER RECOMMENDED READ: STOP THE WORLD I WANNA GET OFF WITH YOU (KIMI R. SMAU)

Summary: It was the Formula 1 summer break, meaning that The Iceman’s two driving children, including his beloved Romania ‘Aroma’ Raikkonen, were home. This also meant that a certain Ollie Bearman would make his presence known to the Raikkonen household- which was unpleasant for Kimi’s part.

Content warning: Dad!Kimi being protective, Andrea Kimi Antonelli is addressed as ‘Kimi’ by the Raikkonens but is addressed as ‘Andrea’ in narration, humour, wooing, Ollie wanting to cry really bad, Antonelli x Raikkonen!OFC (Rooney)

Note: this might not make sense to most but… enjoy regardless xx read the recommended fics for more context.

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

For Kimi, it was never a problem to have people over.

 He was retired and he pretty much had nothing all day but to spend some time with his kids all while his wife, the Academy Award winning director Vera Coppola, worked on days end while she travelled to New York for a week. 

It was a life he loved to live, really.

To have people over was a usual case for the Coppola-Raikkonen household, as Kimi had three children that were at the age when friends and peers were important. 

Kimi and Vera always thought that it was much better that they allowed their children to have friends over than having them go out and about at night— better be free at home than rebellious and endangered, right?

It was now the summer break of this year’s F1 season, which meant that his two children were also home and didn’t need to be travelling with their mum to wherever the next race was.

It meant that they didn’t need to do their schoolwork on the plane while their private tutors sat with them on the way to wherever. 

It gave the two young racers the break they needed from competing, anyways. If there was something that Kimi knew, it was that his eldest daughter and oldest son had the same drive as him. 

Though, if he was being honest, his son was more like him in terms of interviews and personality in front of the camera. But still… both were racing out of pure joy.

Thank goodness, their mother was a Coppola and Kimi made millions before this. 

“Dad, Kimi’s here,” Johann-Lauri Francis Coppola-Raikkonen, or simply Jo, announced as the fifteen year old walked into the living room where Kimi and his two younger kids sat. 

Andrea Kimi (whom Kimi was never confused with whenever Jo or any of his children said the name ‘Kimi’ as they addressed their dad as ‘Dad’) made his presence known to Kimi as he waved, “Good afternoon, Mr. Raikkonen.” 

“Ah! Andrea,” Kimi nodded. “Nice seeing you. When did you get here to Italy?” 

“Hm… We just got back from Nice two hours ago,” Andrea replied with a purse on his lips, “Mamma and Papa made sure I got here in time. I even brought an overnight bag.”

“Okay,” Kimi said with a nod, “Johann, did you clean your room?”

“Yes, dad,” Jo replied.

“Do you want me to order food later?” Kimi asked.

Just the mere utter of the words ‘order food’ had Kimi’s second daughter running from the home library to the living room.

“Dad? Why is it that every time Kimi’s around we always order food? Why can’t we order food when Kimi’s not here?” 

Rooney Italia Coppola-Raikkonen, at the age 17, never once enjoyed the presence of Andrea. But that was because they were both at that age when pissing each other off was just a phase. Now here she was, complaining about Andrea getting a special treatment.

“Bwoah, he is a guest, Roo,” Kimi answered plainly. “Mama isn’t here right now, and I’m sure you’d like some pizza too, no?”

“For dinner?” Rooney whined. 

“You can order off the menu and tell me later,” Kimi negotiated, making Roo jump excitedly. 

“Nice,” Roo said with a grin before she glared at Andrea, “You suck, Antonelli.”

“Rooney Italia—“ Kimi was about to scold his daughter, but she had already sped off to the home library once more.

Kimi sighed, watching the two teenage boys head upstairs to Jo’s room. Kimi looked down at his little boy and his toddler girl. Both little kids were less of a menace than the older ones, thankfully. 

Betty-Elina was suckling on her pacifier when she looked at Kimi and raised her comfort blanket up to Kimi’s chest level.

“Thank you, kulta,” Kimi told Betty with a grin. He turned to where his youngest son was. 

Henrik was snoozing on Kimi’s lap, not even minding the noise that his big siblings were making just about now. 

God. What a life he was living. 

Somewhere in the mansion, rather down the hall of the east wing, was a quiet muffling sound of a girl who was speaking to herself. Well, Romania Eleanor was barely speaking to herself.

She was streaming. It was her first stream ever since F2 had gotten to her system. 

Having to fight her friends to keep her second position before the season ends told her enough about how taxing racing could get. Thus she did the second best thing to racing and streamed cozy games to her fans.

Aroma, once she heard a knock and a creak of the door, looked over to see her younger sister Rooney. She paused her game, trying to see what the girl wanted all while her stream remained running.

“What’s up?” Aroma asked.

“Dad‘s going to order food,” Rooney started but was quickly cut off.

“Let me guess: Antonelli?” Aroma quipped.

Rooney huffed out, “As always.”

Aroma knew that the two, for some reason, hated each other’s presence. Or rather, Andrea Antonelli was simply amused at the one sided beef Rooney had with him. 

But regardless, the ART Grand Prix driver chuckled as she nodded. Aroma said, “If Dad is ordering from Signora Leona’s restaurant, can you ask if I can have some seafood fettuccine Alfredo?” 

“Got it,” Rooney raised a thumb up before she left the room. 

Aroma watched Rooney leave and shut the door behind her before she sighed, proceeding to play her Animal Crossing as she spoke to her stream, “It’s like I’m watching a cringe version of enemies to lovers.”

Ollie Bearman was never scared of anyone.

Anyone but one person that wasn’t his parents: Aroma Raikkonen’s father, Kimi.

He’s heard stories about The Iceman and how he couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve him nor his children.

Sure, for most people it wasn’t a scary thought. But in some ways, the British man was involved with Kimi Raikkonen’s eldest daughter. 

That alone was a scary thought. He’s had a crush on Aroma since they started racing together, back when Aroma raced around Europe while her mother Vera took her to travel. Ollie was a welcome face to everyone in the Coppola-Raikkonen household. 

But god… People called Kimi ‘The Iceman’ for a reason, Ollie thought. 

Kimi’s icy stares and cold demeanour were always directed to Ollie and no one else. Ollie knew the difference between ‘icy’ and ‘indifference’ especially when it came to Aroma Raikkonen and her ‘wholesome’ father. 

News flash: Ollie called bullshit on Kimi being a sweet man. Kimi’s stare could burn holes and Ollie could rot on them— so much for being the ‘Iceman’. 

Now here Ollie was in Italy, hoping to hang out with Aroma…

To sum it up: Ollie and Aroma had some sort of thing going on. One that Ollie wouldn’t dare show to Kimi because god only knows what the Finnish driver could do to the Brit. 

Anyway.

Ollie patiently stood in front of the Coppola-Raikkonen home, his posture still calm. He had just rung the bell, now he was patiently waiting for anyone to answer. 

He didn’t expect for the patriarch to answer the door, his brown eyes meeting Kimi Raikkonen’s blue eyes. 

Ollie grinned and politely greeted, “Mr. Raikkonen-!” 

“-You’re not the delivery man,” Kimi stated bluntly. 

Well… Ollie stood there awkwardly and nodded, “I am not, sir. I am here for Romania.” 

“…Bwoah?” Kimi asked, his head tilting as he watched Ollie nod in confirmation. “I was not told.” 

“I- uh,” Ollie’s demeanour grew awkward and uncomfortable as he stammered, “She- she didn’t tell you?” 

Now this could go two ways: The British driver would have to go back to his accommodation in Milan and wallow in self-pity because Aroma Raikkonen had completely forgotten about their plans during the summer break OR he would die in the hands of Kimi Raikkonen because Kimi’s daughter had forgotten to tell her father about the said plans. 

Either way, Ollie knew he was screwed. 

Kimi stated, his typical indifference seeping through his voice, “I can check with her.” 

Ollie sighed in relief and smiled politely, “Thank you-“

Kimi had already shut the door on Ollie, making the younger man sigh and wait by the front porch for five minutes…

Then five turned to ten…

Then ten turned to fifteen. There was no sign of Kimi. No signs of Aroma either. 

Ollie sighed and took his phone, trying to ring and text Aroma. There was nothing. So he did the next best thing and rang the only other guest in the Coppola-Raikkonen household. 

“Ciao, Ollie,” Andrea Kimi Antonelli spoke from the other side of the call, in the background was a multiplayer game of FIFA.

“Hey Kimi, listen,” Ollie started and looked around while he spoke, “You’re inside, yes?”

“Yes,” Andrea said shortly as he let out a ‘Idiot! Johann!’ “Anyway, why do you ask?”

“I’m outside—“

It seemed like Ollie was distracting the boy from an intense online game with him and Kimi Raikkonen’s eldest boy Jo. Because the next thing that interrupted Ollie was a, “Andreaaaa! What did you do?!” 

“Listen, if you’re looking for Aroma she’s streaming— okay, ciao!” Beep.

Ollie was on the verge of tears; Being left alone in front of the house of the girl he was wooing (supposedly) by her father wasn’t in Ollie’s bucket list this summer break. He could have sworn that Kimi Raikkonen hated him. 

Now he did the last best thing: pay his way into the house.

[OLIBEAR8 HAS DONATED €5: “i just spent money so you can open the gate for me] Aroma listened to her text to speech donation as she was preoccupied from playing her game and paused briefly. “Huh?” She asked and looked at the text. 

She didn’t even realize who it was until she saw the donor. It was Ollie. 

“Ollie..?” The moment she peered down on her phone she saw the countless notifications on the screen. 

oli 🐻: hello 👋

oli 🐻: miss maam 🤓🤓 i’m downstairs

oli 🐻: if u see this i’m stranded downstairs. i can hear ur little siblings laughing at whatever ur father is saying

oli 🐻: if u see this i’m also prolly dead lmaoooo plz come downstairs

5 missed calls from oli 🐻

oli 🐻: aroma 😭 please i’m begging

“What the hell…” Aroma trailed off before asking aloud (particularly to no one), “Did Dad not even realize you’re at the front?” 

But it seemed like she was heard by a certain individual who remained watching her stream at the front porch since he donated once more.

[OLIBEAR8 HAS DONATED €5: “he did but he doesn’t like me”]

“Oh my goodness,” Aroma muttered and paused her stream, standing up as she said, “Dad needs to stop with the Iceman act already!” 

“Dad!” 

Maybe her father had good intentions, Aroma thought, but she knew better. Her father might be reserved half the time, but it didn’t mean that he had a hidden agenda when it came to her dating life. 

So much for being a ‘cool father,’ right? 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne

[ordinaryschmuck]

Win or Lose is Pixar Perfection

If we ranked Win or Lose in the same level as Pixar's film line-up, it would be in my top ten. Actually, make it top five. Maybe even top THREE. In fact, it might just be my absolute favorite thing that the studio has made in YEARS. And that is NO exaggeration.

The premise is simple, yet perfect. It's about a team of softball trying to...well, live life. Yes, there's a championship and a game to win, but only three characters really care about that. Everyone else is focused on the struggles they're going through as individuals, facing the trials and tribulations of being a child, a teenager, and even an adult. This is a series that's perfectly made for everyone of any age, with themes and stories that are simple enough for anyone to understand and even relate to. And it accomplishes that feat by having every episode focus on the perspective of a different character.

The concept of changing perspectives for each episode is brilliant and something that can ONLY work for a TV show. If this was a movie (And thank goodness it's not), the story wouldn't have worked as well. Not only would certain bits and scenes feel more repetitive than they are, but we either wouldn't get to see much of everyone's perspective to fit that hour in a half time limit Pixar's forced into, or we would have a mish-mash of everyone's perspectives switching out from one to the other. And the finale, while still very good, shows how chaotic the ladder option would be. So by making it a series, it allows the writers to really FOCUS on each character and VISUALLY tell us what they're experiencing. This plays into the show's theme of acknowledging the importance of others' perspective on things, getting to see how one character viewed an event in the story vs how someone else did. Like how Frank saw himself fully in control of his classroom while Kai and Rochelle saw him as a bit of an awkward doof. Or how Laurie saw Yuwen as completely dismissive over Rochelle claim that he liked her, only for Yuwen's episode to reveal that he panicked in saying he liked Taylor. Heck, even Ira's episode showed how in control and cocky Yuwen was in this situation, despite how panicked and nervous he really was. Everyone's perspective tells a different version of the same story, sometimes revealing stuff we wouldn't know just from one character's point of view. Frank's episode made it seem like Kai and Rochelle were the ones cheating, with Kai's anger seeming unjustified given the circumstances that she was caught doing something she shouldn't. But after seeing who Rochelle was REALLY trying to help, it makes Kai's frustration all the more understandable as she wasn't trying to cheat, she was just literally caught in the middle of Rochelle's scheme. Speaking of, I love how Rochelle's episode perfectly compliments her mother's, despite it actually contradicting. Rochelle believes she's the adult of the family, thinking Vanessa does nothing but goof off and focus on her phone and followers. Meanwhile, Vanessa views herself as the ultimate girlboss, doing her best job to take care of her kids and make sure they do a better job than she did in life, actually going as above and beyond as she can for them while keeping a self-image of confidence and positivity. And their perceptions of themselves only shatter when they start to see the truth in the other person and how serious the current situation became. It's very true to life in that regard. How WE experience things is vastly different to how everyone else does, and Win or Lose captures that idea MASTERFULLY, showing us how each character sees the world, the people around them, and, more importantly, how they see themselves.

Every episode feels like a mini-movie, with concepts and themes that feel like they could have made up for a feature film if Pixar wanted to. I mean, the first episode tackled the idea of anxiety, something Pixar JUST DID with their box office smash Inside Out 2. Yet they do it in a way that's different and compelling enough to make it stand out on its own. Anxiety is a complex emotion that can be told in a variety of ways, and Laurie's anxiety being represented by a giant sweat blob that encompasses most of her body and weighs her down to the point where she can barely function. It's good that Inside Out 2 showed that Anxiety is a necessary emotion in life, but I don't knock Win or Lose down for showing the emotional turmoil one faces when anxiety becomes too big of a burden to bear. They show off that idea perfectly, the same going for other characters and their anxieties. Like how Frank visualizes himself in a suit of armor to deflect criticism during the game, only for that same trick to pop up and get in the way of his own happiness because he put up too much of an emotional safeguard. Or how Yuwen's real self living in a heart that's literally as fragile as cardboard or Dan keeping all his rage and big emotions inside himself until he becomes a balloon about ready to burst.

But my personal favorite is Kai, who looks lighter than air when she feels happy and content, only to be dragged down to Earth when facing criticism from her father. And when the feeling of failure encompasses her, she literally sinks into the Earth to the point where it's hard for her to so much as take a step. That scene where she sinks into the field because something became too much for her...I felt that. I think MOST of us have felt that feeling at least ONCE in our lives. And the visual representation of such a feeling can ONLY be perfectly shown through animation.

Win or Lose is a typical slice of life story, and those don't necessarily NEED to be animated. You're showing the successes and struggles of someone's life, and it can just as easily be done in live action if needed to. But Win or Lose, with the themes it tries to tell and the emotions it had to convey, NEEDED to be animated. Having Rochelle act mature for her age is simple enough to do, but by having her physically GROW into an adult sells the idea better and makes it cuter as we see more about how she sees herself. Or how Ira is shown to be an imaginative kid is further emphasized by showing how often sees the world in crude, cutesy, hand drawn animation. By being animated, the stories, themes, and emotions in Win or Lose are made stronger, even through something as simple as showing Rochelle suddenly screaming on an island when she realized she forgot her phone. I feel like we've ALL been there at one point in our lives and the animation captured it perfectly.

Speaking of perfect, Win or Lose has the Pixar standard of PHENOMENAL animation. It's not as heavily detailed as some of Pixar's films, but it doesn't need to be. It's a TV show and that means a shorter budget and simplified designs. And while the character designs can sometimes look TOO simple (Looking at YOU, Coffee Girl), the show looks great in the way it makes 3D characters look almost 2D. I made a mini-post once about how such a feat isn't easy, and you can see the love and effort that went into making every character move and act as if they're from a 2D cartoon, making this one of the most fluid and expressive Pixar productions to date. And that's not getting into how it frequently mixes mediums like with Yuwen's inner self and Ira's imagination. Just the sight of seeing something 2D interact with something 3D is nothing short of impressive.

What's also impressive is the central theme of the show. Yes, there's the idea that you need to acknowledge everyone's perspective on things, but there's the one that the show explicitly stated in the beginning: Sometimes, winning is how you look at it. Everyone in this show is looking to be the best that they can be. Either it's having the best relationship, being the star player, or simply being the best person, perfection is what everyone strives for. And, unfortunately for them, it's what leads to their downfall, both in how they react to things not being perfect and how their strive is what led to them getting hurt. Like how Yuwen's anger at his relationship with Taylor reaching a bump in a road lead to his heart getting broken or Kai's constant training and disregard for herself led to getting a sprained ankle. These constant strives for success and victory led to more turmoil, when in reality, life isn't about being better than the rest. You just need to try your personal best. If you fail, that's fine. You gave it your all, and that's all that should matter. That and learning from your mistakes, of course. Which I think almost everyone does by the end, making better choices for their lives and being better for the ones they care for.

Now, with all this PRAISE that I have towards Win or Lose, are there any problems? Well, there's only ONE huge issue I have, and it's nothing against the show itself.

Yes, I'm talking about the infamous censorship that Kai's character gotten in the show's early stages, where they went ALL IN on her being trans and struggling with gender dysphoria. Disney went ahead and said "FUCK THAT" and forced the writers to make Kai as straight and cis as possible. To which the writers and animators said, "Fine, we won't EXPLICITLY make Kai trans...We'll just use a ton of symbolic subtext to the point where it's very obvious that she IS trans so that fans and audiences can tell what we wanted from the start." And they got away with it like a bunch of CHAMPIONS! Still, it hurts that the original plotline got cut because there is so much MORE to have done with that part of Kai. It's obvious from the get-go that she didn't want to be the best softball player, she just wanted acceptance from friends who see her from HER. That works best if the character is as explicitly trans as possible, and, now more than ever, kids like her deserve to see themselves represented like that. Pixar did the best with what they could, but there's no getting past the Mouse when he says no. Just ask The Owl House and Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur.

As for the actual SHOW, I've got nothing aside from a few nitpicks. Like, it feels weird that Laurie never really faced any consequences for cheating at the game and purposefully hurting herself to get on base. She sees it as a personal victory and no one really catches her or brings her down for it. I also don't like the idea of Frank getting with Vanessa. Yes, it was the obvious choice the second they both talked, revealed they were close to the same age, and talk about how Rochelle likes Frank and Frank likes her as a student, but they have NOTHING compatible with each other. Though, to be fair, the show seems quickly acknowledge that in the short time it made them canon as Frank seems awkward around her and she seems...too much for him, but I'm still not sure if that's INTENTIONAL or not. Maybe if it was revealed that it was Vanessa Frank was talking to on the dating app or something I MIGHT be more leniant as it shows there's more to Vanessa than it appears, but as is, it's still messy. Same going for Yuwen and Dan's stories and how rushed they feel. I can give Dan SLIGHTLY more of a pass because it is the finale and most of the climax DOES circle around him. We just breeze by events to get to the championship and it feels like there's less buildup to his big blowup in comparison to the others. And given what happened with Yuwen, I feel like they rushed through a LOT with him. Both the events that led to him getting his heartbroken and then getting over it felt like we skipped important events because we have more going on with everyone else. His arc doesn't get the proper attention it deserves, which is a shame because I think what they do with it is GOOD. I still like his arc all the same, despite the poor pacing, with my favorite bit being his inner self yelling at Yuwen for making this big mistake, asking him "What are you doing?!" That still hurts and is incredibly effective, but I just feel like everything else could have been BETTER.

Aside from all that, it's next to perfection. I can count the amount of complaints with Win or Lose on one hand, and that's an impressive feat for anything, be it a show or movie. I can't find any major issue with it other than MAYBE the art style isn't your thing, and, even then, that's more subjective. I love the HELL out of this series, it made me cry FOUR times when watching it, and I hope the team that worked on it got all they praise they deserve for watching. And while it may be a show about softball players, I'm still going to mix metaphors and say it's another HOME RUN from Pixar.

[ten-thousand-aromantic-bees]

literally can't stop thinking about kai's "i just want to be on a team, but my dad, he's like, be the best, be the best-" and laurie's "yeah, me too" in response, and rochelle pushing herself to the absolute limit of how far she's willing to go to ensure she gets to keep being on the team, and yuwen only snapping out of his heartbreak over taylor when he heard the rest of the team doing their chant, and ohhhhhh no you don't understand. they all just want to be part of a team, you guys. like. yuwen wants them to like him and kai and laurie both want to prove they deserve to be here and rochelle wants to make sure she doesn't have to lose all this next season, but they're literally all just kids who want so badly to be a part of a team.

agh. i love them. :(

[darksigns-exe]

the taste of the divine - noah x laurie (ofc)

warnings: Swearing, gentle femdom, use chastity device (cock cage), mommy kink, use of butt plugs (m receiving) oral sex (f receiving), pegging (m receiving)

word count: 4.6k

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

“I think I just need to get out of my head.” He says a little shakily. 

Noah isn’t sure where this anxious energy is coming from, either. He’s fidgety, agitated. He can’t find rest no matter how hard he tries. He doesn’t even have anything wild on his calendar. He’s just restless. 

Laurie looks at him with a deep sense of worry. He doesn’t like when she looks like that, not because he doesn’t like how much she cares for him, but rather because he doesn’t want her to worry. 

“Come here, will you?” She asks softly, patting the spot next to her on the sofa. 

Noah follows quietly. He finds himself settling into that space so easily. He hasn’t outright asked for it yet, but Laurie always seems to know when he needs her to really take the reins. 

He settles against her side, lets himself melt against her smaller frame. 

“Can you tell me what you need?” 

That’s the issue, though, he doesn’t quite know what he needs. All he knows is that he needs her to take him apart bit by bit. That he needs to feel himself reduced to the most base part of his soul so that they can put the pieces of him back together afterwards. 

Saying it out loud is a different thing, though. It’s still a little daunting. He’s sure that he’ll eventually be able to ask her to turn him inside out without stumbling over his words like this. 

“Can you take care of me again?” Is the best he can manage. The honorific gets lost in his mumbling. Knowing Laurie, she has still somehow picked up on it. 

Above him, Laurie lets out a soft sigh. She presses a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Oh baby.” She says softly, “You want me in charge of it?”

He lets out a barely there yes, but it’s enough for her. Laurie carefully ushers him to sit up, so that they’re face to face. She keeps a gentle hold on his hand, and he’s more than thankful for it. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You can say no at any point, there will be no hard feelings. Understood?”

He nods, looking somewhere between intimidated and shy. 

“Words, Noah. I’ll need to speak up for this.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” She gives him an almost wicked smile, “You’re going to go over into the bedroom and undress for me. I want you to fold your clothes and place them up on the dresser. After that, I want you to sit on the edge of the bed and wait. I’ll be with you in a moment. Is that all clear?”

“Yes.”

She cradles his face in one of her manicured hands, and Noah feels his heart skip a little in anticipation. A kiss is pressed to his cheek and he can feel the remnants of her lipstick staining his skin. 

“Take your time. There’s no rush at all. Is that okay?”

He confirms, still feeling a little shaky. 

Laurie releases her hold on him. 

“Go on, my love.” 

Noah takes a final breath before he scrambles off the sofa. He feels Laurie’s eyes burning into his back as he makes his way over into their now shared bedroom. He knows that she has experience with this, but he hadn’t expected her to be this prepared. They’ve dabbled in this kind of play before, and Laurie had made it very clear that she wanted to help him explore it. He can’t help but feel a little bitter about the thought that someone before him might have felt her gentle hand on their cheek. 

Noah has no idea of what she’s planned for him, and it makes him nervous. He does as she’s asked, strips down until he’s bare and folds his clothes. He feels horribly exposed, even though she’s seen him like this all too often. 

When he sits on the bed, he finds himself automatically placing his hands on top of his thighs. Noah doesn’t know how much time passes until the door clicks open. 

In the dim light of the room, he can barely make out her shape. 

She doesn’t say anything and just quietly checks that he’s done what she asked him to do. 

“Good boy.”

The praise sears through him like fire. 

“Ready for the next part?”

“I’m ready.”

She’s standing right in front of him by then. All soft bodied and warm. Her hand cards through his hair, forcing him to look up at her. 

“We’re going to put a pretty little plug in you. It’s a little bigger than the one we’ve used before, but you’ll be fine. Before that, though, I’d like to lock your cock up. I know it’s a big thing, but the aim of this is for you to give up control. I think you’ll like it.” Her hand shifts towards his cheek, “Does that sound okay?”

“If I decide that I don’t like it?”

“We’ll take it off again. All you have to do is say so.”

“I want to try.” Noah says surprisingly firm. 

“Lie back for me, sweetheart.”

“Can I see how you do it?”

She pauses for a second, fixing him with a minimally concerned look, “Of course. Sit up against the headboard.”

He does as she asks, sits all prettily until she gently tugs him just a little bit forward. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Tell me if something feels off, okay?”

His chest heaves with nervous breaths when she carefully moves the ring over his shaft. She’s so calm with it that Noah’s sure that she has done this before. He doesn’t have time to question how this thing works. 

“That’s the first part done. How’s it feel?”

Noah dares to look down for the first time. It’s just a ring that sits at the base of his cock and behind his balls. It’s new. It feels strange. It’s tight, but not uncomfortably so. 

“It’s good.”

“Do you need a moment?” 

“Can I see the rest?”

“The actual cage?”

He nods “Yes.”

The plastic feels too light for what it means. He doesn’t know how it’ll fit, how it’ll feel in general. The idea makes him feel a little dizzy, though. He’d asked her to take control from him, he’d wanted this. And now that it’s practically dangling in front of his face, he feels a little scared of it all. 

“Do you just want to see how it feels first? We don’t have to lock it immediately.”

The tenderness she gives him when they play like this always makes him shiver. Laurie’s always so gentle with him, so caring. When they’d first started to talk about kink in this way, and she told him that she prefers to be in charge, most of the time his mind had gone straight to cuffs and whips and whatever else porn had sold him. That this kind of dominance could be gentle, too, had been entirely new to him. 

He can’t imagine them being different now. Noah hadn’t thought of himself as anything really when it came to this kind of thing. But when Laurie tells him to be good, he can’t help himself. Doing as she asks is a natural instinct. 

“Noah?” The stern edge to her voice makes his head snap up, “I asked you something.”

“Can we just try it for now?”

Her face softens immediately, “Of course, my love.”

He holds the plastic piece out to her. Laurie sits in front of him, one hand on his knees as she gently pries his thighs apart just a little bit more. This he knows. 

“Tell me if something feels off, okay?” 

“Okay.” He mirrors.

Noah tries to think of anything but her, when she takes him into her hand. It’s such an odd feeling. He’d thought that it would be a tight fit, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. She’s so careful with it, too. 

“How’s that feel?” 

Her hand is still holding it in the position it would be in when locked. 

Noah thinks for a moment. 

He wants to try at least. Even if it’s just out of curiosity. 

“It’s good.”

Laurie smiles then, all soft and sweet, before she presses a kiss to his cheek. 

“Hold it up for me?”

Noah nods. 

He watches as she picks up a small key from the night stand. 

“If you want it off at any moment, let me know. We’ll stop immediately.”

“I will.”

“Good boy.” Her thumb drifts over his cheek briefly.

His eyes follow her hands when she moves to lock the cage in place. He feels himself twitch inside the plastic. 

“There you go.”  

The key returns to its place on the night stand. 

His tummy feels all kinds of twisted up. It’s not bad, though. To his surprise, he likes it, likes how small it makes him feel. 

“How do you feel?”

“Good. I like it.” 

And he really does. There’s an odd sense of comfort that comes with it. He’s entirely hers right now, and that sets his mind at ease. 

“Do you need a moment or are you good to go on?”

“We can go on.” 

Laurie has him move onto his hands and knees in the middle of the bed. Normally, Noah prefers to be on his back for this part. He wants to see her, wants to see how it affects her, but with what they’re doing today this feels right.

Her fingers drift across his skin. He’s on edge, unsure of where she’ll touch next. Lips press to his lower back, lower still against the soft round of his backside. Her thumbs drag along the length of his spine, and he moans with relief. It’s not enough to ease the knots out of his back, but it feels divine. 

“Gonna be cold for a second, honey.” She whispers before he feels the first touch of her finger against the taut muscle. 

Laurie draws slow circles against his entrance, carefully works her pointer finger into him. The ache isn’t so bad any more. He’s gotten used to it and the stretch of her fingers by now. The comforting hand on his waist helps too. It’s a constant reminder that she’s there, that she’s taking care of him. 

Noah feels himself getting lost in the feeling. His soft sighs quickly turn into whines when she works a second finger into him. 

“You’re doing so well for me, my love. Always such a good boy.” She coos. 

The praise always makes him sink further into that headspace. The more she praises him, the better he wants to be for her. 

Noah presses back against her, desperate to feel more. 

“I know what you want.” She gives his waist a gentle squeeze, “You’ll get it if you’re good for me.”

“Please.” 

Her fingers still at his plea, “You’ve been so very good. Don’t get bratty now. I told you, you’ll get what you want if you’re good.” 

Noah cranes his head back, trying to get a glimpse of her, “Please mommy, I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Laurie gazes at him with a tenderness that makes him want to crumble beneath her. 

She pats his waist softly, “I know you will. You love being my good boy, don’t you?”

He whines out a yes, and that seems to be enough for Laurie. She picks up her slow and steady rhythm once again. They’ve done this part a few times, and Noah knows that he has to keep his mind empty if he wants to last. He can’t tell how long they’re here like this. The press of her fingers against his walls almost makes his arms buckle a few times. And when Laurie eventually removes her fingers from his hole, Noah finds himself whining at the sudden emptiness. 

“You’ve almost made it, baby.” Her gentle voice seeps through his already fogged up mind, “Just the plug now, and then we’re done.”

He feels her lean towards the night stand, but Noah can’t bring himself to look at what she’s doing. He doesn’t have to wait long, though. Her hands soon return to his waist. 

“How are you feeling?” 

It takes Noah a second too long to reply, because a moment later she has moved to his side. 

“Noah?” 

Laurie cups the side of his face, to make him look at her. 

“Talk to me, love.”

He blinks at her a few times, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Do you want to take a break?” She asks softly, thumb drifting across his cheek so sweetly. 

“Just a second.” Noah replies shakily. 

Laurie tilts his head up just a little bit more, before she leans in to kiss him. 

“You’ve been so, so good for me.” She whispers against his lips. 

The sweet, gentle praise, she showers him with, seeps into his mind. And when she moves back behind him, Noah patiently anticipates the dull pressure of the plug. He whines when he finally feels it. Laurie takes her time with it, slowly easing the plug into his hole. His breath catches when the widest part of it stretches him open. It slips inside so easily that Noah doesn’t even have the time to moan. 

“There you go, my darling. All done.” another squeeze of his waist, “Want a little break now?” 

 His head perks up at that. 

He sits up next to her, shifting a little when the plug moves inside of him. Laurie pulls him in for another gentle kiss. Her hand feels so awfully small against his cheek, but it’s always so reassuring. Laurie moves them so that Noah is resting against her belly, arms wrapped around her middle as best as he can. The sweet things she whispers to him barely reach his conscious mind. He feels so safe and comfortable when they’re like this, so well taken care of. The gentle care she gives him eases his worries like little else does.

As comfortable as he is, he can’t stop his restless shifting. Laurie cards her hand through his hair, carefully pushing some of the strands away from his face. 

“Think you’re up for more? I know this is a lot at once.” 

He turns his head so that he can look at her, “We can go on.” 

“Still comfortable?”

“Very.” he can’t hide the smile that so desperately wants to force its way onto his face. 

“Good. Do you want to get on your knees for me? Show me just how good you are?”

He nods and almost immediately tries to worm his way out of her embrace. Laurie laughs softly at his eagerness. 

“You know where I want you.” She continues, “Be good for me and wait. I’ll be right back with you.”

He wants to protest, wants to whine when she walks past him. But he knows better by now. Whining won’t get him what he wants. And so Noah only lets out a hum when her hand runs through his hair and down the side of his face. He doesn’t turn when he hears one of the drawers behind him slide open and close again. Noah hears her moving, the rustling of clothes, and a moment later Laurie is back in front of him. She’s shed her shorts, leaving only the shirt of his that she’d borrowed earlier in the day. 

Noah lets his head drop to the inside of her thigh when she’s properly seated. It almost feels as if his mind is set onto a singular goal. He waits patiently, eyes fixed on her face. He feels drowsy in the best way possible. The things he’d been agonising over had faded into the background of his mind, leaving him only with the desire to be good for her. 

“Mommy?” He asks quietly. 

Laurie looks at him with a softness that makes him shiver, “Hm?”

“Can I?”

“What do you want, love? You’ll have to be a bit clearer.”

“Can I put my mouth on you? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” the desperation in his voice is evident by now. 

Laurie pulls him closer with a gentle hand on his cheek, “You’ve been so good. Go on.” 

Noah surges forward as soon as her thighs are parted wide enough to for it. His hands curl around her thighs, fingers digging into her skin. He sighs when his tongue makes contact with her folds. The taste of her floods his senses and Noah lets himself get lost in the sensations of it. Laurie’s fingers tangle into his hair, holding him close, even though they both know that she’ll have to pry him away later. 

He kisses and laps at her folds so carefully. By now, Noah has a good grip on what she likes, and he’s more than happy to give her exactly that. The pretty sighs that fall from her lips fuel his slow exploration. The gentle scrape of her fingers against his scalp feels like heaven and mixed with her sweet taste he can’t imagine himself anywhere else. Not that he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Always make me feel so good, love.” she sighs, “You’re so good for me.” 

He looks up at her, warmth filling his insides. She’s so beautiful, and he’s so in love. Laurie gazes at him with so much softness, so much love. Her grip on his hair tightens, as she pulls him deeper against her again. He whines against her when she pulls at his hair just right. Noah feels so dizzy with it. Between the different stimuli, he doesn’t quite know what to focus on first. The plug shifts inside him, making him gasp and moan against her. Above him, Laurie mirrors the sounds he makes, sighing with every pass of his tongue through her folds. 

He feels her shudder through her climax, but her hands remain in his hair, and he knows that she wants him to continue. Noah remains between her thighs, until she pries him away. He doesn’t know how long she had allowed him to stay between her thighs like this, but from the ache in his knees, it must have been some time. His head thumps against the inside of her thigh again. Noah draws in a deep breath. He can feel the residue of her release on his face. 

Laurie seems to be just as breathless as he is. The thin sheen of sweat that covers her face makes her skin shine so prettily. 

“You were so good for me, my dear.” she says so sweetly, “I think you’ve really earned your treat.” 

Noah feels himself perk up at that. 

Laurie gives a little laugh in return, “Come up here, will you?” 

He scrambles up to his feet, almost tumbling over on top of her as he does. Laurie’s hands quickly find their way to the sides of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. 

“On your back, Noah.” another kiss, “I’ll be right with you.” 

Noah does as she asked, positioning himself in the middle of the bed. His hands open and close over and over again, unsure of where wants to leave them. He watches as Laurie steps into the harness. He’s been waiting for this since they started. Noah loves how attentive she is with him. She takes such good care of him, always intent of making him feel good. 

The sight of the strap on always makes shiver a little. They’ve worked their way up to one that isn’t too far off from the size of his own cock. It looks enormous on her. He squirms, anticipating the feeling of it inside of him. 

“Think you’re ready for it?” Laurie asks, as she comes to kneel between his legs.

Noah nods quickly, “Yes.”

Her hands run across his thighs. Noah feels the muscle spasm beneath her touch. One hand remains on his thigh, while the other moves towards the plug. Laurie’s eyes remain fixed on his when she tugs at the plug. She scans his face for discomfort, and when she doesn’t find any, she continues to pull at it. Noah’s hands grip into the bedsheets below him, trying to stifle the whine that sits behind his lips. It breaks free eventually when the widest part of the plug passes through him. It’s over a moment later. Laurie squeezes his thigh when he lets out a faint little whimper. 

“You’re doing so good, love.” she whispers, “So, so good.” 

Laurie uncaps the bottle of lube again. The nervous anticipation in Noah’s belly threatens to bubble over. He winces when the cold lube touches his skin, earning himself another calming squeeze of his thigh. She covers the toy in lube, her small hand fitting around it just barely. 

It’s a dizzying sight.

Noah can’t keep his eyes open any longer when he feels the dull head of the toy against his hole. Thanks to the preparation, the toy slips in easily. His thighs spread further, giving Laurie more space. Noah feels himself whimpering, gasping as it sinks into him. Laurie leans across to kiss him, when the toy is fully seated inside of him. 

“Feeling good, love?” she asks softly. 

He can’t bring himself to speak up this time, and thankfully Laurie doesn’t force the words out of him this time. Instead, her hands find their way to his waist. Her fingers drift across the skin of his tummy. 

He gasps when the toy shifts, as she readjusts her position a little. Noah gives the faintest nod, signalling that he’s ready to continue. He’s glad that she’s giving him this grace. Usually, she’s so very intent on him giving verbal responses. 

Laurie pulls back until just the head of the toy remains inside. She keeps her thrusts slow, drawing out the end he craves so much. He feels himself fraying at the seems with every thrust she gives. What Laurie gives him is enough to keep him right at the edge of it, but not enough to send him over the edge. One of his hands releases the sheets and instead comes to hold onto her thigh, needing to feel her skin somehow. Laurie’s hand curls around his, entangling their fingers to ground him. It’s enough to get Noah to open his eyes again. He needs another moment, before he can bring himself to look at her across the length of his body. He can’t look at where they’re joined for very long. She looks gorgeous, eyes blown wide, lips parted and spit-slicked, cheeks tinged pink. 

“Does that feel good?” she asks, sounding a little breathless already. 

Noah tries his best to articulate a yes, but it comes out as a breathy whine. She smiles and the movement of his hips stutters just a little.  

He whines out her name, gasping when she hits just the right spot. Seeing his thigh hiked up against her waist, her hand gripping into his skin, melts his brain even more. His back arches off the mattress, and the sweet words Laurie speaks turn into fuzz. Noah swears that his vision whites out when his climax hits him. It’s overwhelming, and Noah feels as if he’s floating several feet above his own body. The feeling becomes too much a moment later, and he squeezes her hand twice to signal it to Laurie. 

She stops moving immediately. 

Laurie gently guides his leg back down to the mattress. 

“You did so well for me, Noah.” she says, barely above a whisper, “Do you need a moment?”

“You can pull out.” he croaks, his voice so rough and worn out. 

His grip on her hand tightens when she does, and he only whines when she gets up off the bed. Laurie doesn’t shush him like she sometimes does, doesn’t tell him to stop whining and that she’ll only be away for a moment. His eyes fall shut again and Noah lets himself revel in the feeling for a moment longer. 

The bed dips down again and he feels her undo the lock. Noah can’t stop the sigh that falls from him when she carefully pulls the cage away again. It feels as if it has been ages, but at the same time he’d gotten used to it so quickly that he had barely noticed it towards the end. 

“I’m going to get a wash cloth and start us a bath, okay? I’ll be right back.” the words barely reach his drowsy mind. 

He feels a little more settled when Laurie returns a little while later. Additionally, to the wash cloth, she had picked up one of the cookies they’d gotten from the café earlier that day and a bottle of water. Noah sits up against the headboard, letting his head drop against it when she sits next to him. He should be used to the routine that follows. But she’s so gentle with him when she cleans the residue of his cum from his skin. Being taken care of like this always makes him feel so very loved. Laurie tends to him so sweetly that it makes his heart soar every time. 

“How are you feeling?” Laurie asks when he’s settled against her in the tub. 

It’s more than a little cramped, he barely fits into the damned thing and his knees stick out of the lush, warm water. The comfort of this part is unmatched though.

“Good.” he replies, “I don’t think that I’ve ever felt like that.” 

Laurie presses a kiss to his cheek, “Think we’ve gotten you out of your head?” 

He pauses for a moment, tempted to be cheeky about it. Instead, he nods. 

“Thank you, Laurie. You always take care of me and I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Another kiss to cheek, “Thankfully we don’t have to think about that case, because you’re not getting rid of me. Ever.”  

Nor would he ever want to. He can’t attest all of his progress to Laurie, but she’d always shown him so much unconditional kindness and love that he’d at some point started to see himself worthy of that. Noah doesn’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way he’d found a sense of profound happiness. The comfort he finds in these small four walls they share, their little routines, the gentle little touches they exchange throughout the day slowly mends the cracks in his chest. And he’s sure that he wouldn’t have found any of this if it hadn’t been for her. 

He tries to pay it back as best as he can. He knows that he’s clumsy with it sometimes. It comes so effortlessly to her and Laurie is adamant that he’s doing more than enough to her. But on some days the sandwiches he brings her – not from the shop but their own kitchen – don’t feel sufficient to express the love and gratitude he feels. He knows that she doesn’t expect grand gestures from him, they’ve had this discussion more than once. All Noah wants is to give some of the love she gives him back.

“All this work to get you out of your head, just for you to get lost again.” Laurie tuts behind him. 

“Just thought about how good this all is.” Noah answers after a moment, “I love you so much.” 

He tries to crane his head back to look at her. When he can’t quite reach her, he tries to turn and his shifting slashes some of the water out onto the tiles and the carpet. None of it matters though when gets to look at her and Laurie whispers an I love you too against his lips. 

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken

[rainydayandmondays]

Secret Santa is Coming....

Summary: Time for the Secret Santa gift exchange and Andy knows you deserve only the best gift. And who says it can’t be a gift for both of you.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

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

Author’s Note: A follow up to the Thanksgiving Potluck. I don’t think Andy is okay with just a one-shot with his sweet girl.

“Mr. Barber.”

Andy looked up to see you standing just inside his doorway. Your hands dropping to be held in front of you, he watched as you momentarily shifted from foot to foot. You were uneasy and that should never be how you feel around him. He dropped the affidavit he had been reading back to his desk, before rolling his shoulders, and sitting back in his chair. Something had you skittish and he wouldn’t have that.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

You bow your head at the nickname, your bashful reaction to it would never get old with him. However, he did try to use it sparingly. Waiting until you two were mostly alone, he would softly say it and watch you smile before catching yourself.

“Can I talk to you about something?” You looked at him, your brow furrowing as you waited for his response. Something was wrong. He could feel his own unease build up the longer he watched you, your fingers now fidgeting in front of you.

“Is that even a question? Of course, you can,” He gestured to the seat in front of him.

You seemed to loosen up at his response, your hands dropping the gripped hold you had them in. Turning to close the door behind you, you gave him a small hopeful smile before taking the offered seat.

He continued to sit back, despite wanting to inch closer to you. You were calmer now and he didn’t want to break you from that peace that you had regained, “What’s going on?”

You took a quick inhale before asking your question, “Are you the one leaving coffee on my desk every morning?"

The coffee. You knew about the coffee. After Thanksgiving, he hadn’t wanted to give up the feeling he felt watching you enjoy him so much. He embraced the flashes of you licking your lips after finishing his potluck offering. They would keep him busy popping up over the long holiday weekend.

Laurie had ordered in catering for their family meal. Things were starting to pick up for her at work as they entered the holiday season. Buying everything and then cooking the turkey dinner wasn’t something she was willing to take on. Instead, they had pulled the plastic containers from the takeaway bag, quickly heating them up before sitting down to the saddest Thanksgiving meal. Thoughts of you were the only thing that pulled him out his funk to start pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic.

He decided that weekend that he would find a way to share that with you again. Your friend may have thrown out that thinly veiled threat, but he would find a way around it. Returning to the office after the holiday, he decided to keep his ritual to his nightly shower. No more parking garage camera feed for your noisy friend to make noise about. He found if he worked late enough, by the time he got home, there would be no one up to ask why he took a tumbler with him to shower.

Filling up his trusty tumbler every night, he would grab it from the refrigerator each morning as he waved goodbye to a wife and son who seemed to be more enthralled with their phones than anything he was doing. Heading to the local coffee shop after his morning swim, he would sit in his car adding his special ingredient to the small light roast brew with double espresso shots and half and half.

Making sure to get in as early as possible, he would leave the cup of coffee on your desk before hustling to his office. He had done so for the last week, a smirk lighting up his face when you brought the cup to the weekly team debrief for the latest cases. But now you knew it was him. He should have known you would figure it out.

Trying his best to not react to your question, he pulled on all his skills to keep the best poker face. He could come up with a reason for it that wouldn’t return you to that ball of nerves that had stood in his doorway.

He cleared his throat before responding, “You caught me. I know the late nights you have been putting in. That can’t be easy to do and then only to go home and help your parents. Figured you might need something to look forward to.”

You hummed at his explanation, looking down before returning your gaze to him, “That’s very kind, Mr. Barber. Sweet even. It’s just…people like to talk. I’ve worked so hard. And I don’t want anyone to think that I got anything because of…because of anything else other than work.”

Your eyes had continued to flit between him and your hands in your lap as you spoke. He could tell that you had thought through your small speech, probably even prepped yourself on your drive in. He also knew that one of the office gossips had gotten to you. He was selfish and he wanted the moments with you but not at the risk of you feeling uncomfortable.

Leaning against the desk, he looked at you straight on, expressing as much empathy as possible, “Understood. No more coffees.”

Your shoulders finally came down from around your ears and you sighed, nodding back in thanks.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you replied before rising to walk towards his office door. He wanted to correct you. Remind you to call him Andy. However, he figured it was best not to push his luck. Watching you push the wrinkles from your skirt as you walked away, he called back to you, “I don’t want you worrying about this or what anyone may say, okay?”

Stopping to look over your shoulder, you reached to grab at your necklace, “I won’t.”

“Promise me?” He smirked as you continued to twiddle with the gold chain.

“I promise,” you answered as he nodded for you to leave.

With the click of his door closing, he looked down at his desk, saving your promise to his memory. He’ll use it later tonight.

Holding the slip of paper in his hands, your name neatly scrawled across it, he smiled to himself. A couple of people in the office decided to put together a Secret Santa exchange. Apparently, the Thanksgiving potluck was such a success when it came to team building, the higher ups agreed to the next holiday activity. Even had HR sign off on it.

Andy had been in court when the bag of names had been passed around. He didn’t give it much thought. Since your stop in his office a week ago, he had kept his distance. It wasn’t something that he wanted in the slightest. But he was willing to respect your genuine worry about office gossip. No more tumblers, no more early coffee runs. The research requests still happened but always through the weekly team huddle.

However, now seeing your name chosen for him, he had to smile to himself. Of course, it would be you that he would get. Of course, him trying to keep his distance would mean you finding a way back to him.

He sat down, leaning his chin in his hands, “Okay, sweet girl. I understand.”

The office had pretty much cleared out with most people starting their holiday vacations. The last few streamers from the small Christmas luncheon had been balled up and chucked in the bin, when Andy made his way out to the bull pin. You were waving off the last of the other paralegals as you collected your stuff to make your own way home.

“Hey sweetheart,” he saw you jump a little before turning to him.

You had worn a red Christmas sweater with a white bow handstitched along the collar. Your normal pencil skirt had been replaced by a pair of black slacks. And although not his favorite, the pants had done wonders for your ass. He had watched as you moved around the office putting up the last-minute decorations, only to take them down.

“Hi Andy.” You replied turning and looking up at him from your office chair. He caught the small smile that wanted to break free at your utterance of his name. That was good, you were comfortable around him again.

Clearing his throat, he brought the gift bag from behind his bag, presenting it to you, “Merry Christmas.”

“So, you were my Secret Santa,” you smirked looking at the packed gift bag he had hastily bought from the Walgreens down the street.

“It’s a three-part gift,” he answered, nodding towards it and urging you to open it.

Taking the stuffed tissue paper from the top you reached in pulling out a pink tumbler. You let out a small giggle, “For my coffee?”

He fully smiled this time, before shrugging his shoulders and pointing to the remaining items in the gift bag. Putting down the tumbler, you turned back to the bag, reaching the bottom of it, you pulled out a wooden paper weight. Carved into the center was the seal for Boston College Law School. Your brow creased as you tried to piece together the meaning of the gift. He watched as you finally looked back to him, your look pleading for an answer.

“That’s the second part. An old college buddy of mine is the registrar. I told him about a paralegal that had aced her LSATs, had helped on numerous high profile ADA cases, but hadn’t had the chance to enroll yet.” He looked on as the puzzle started to come together in your mind. Your brow creased further as tears started to line your eyelashes.

“They have grant funds set aside every year for students that display great potential. He took care of everything. You can enroll whenever you’re ready. There will be a space for you. That’s the third part.” He whispered the last of his explanation. The tears that had been threatening to fall now ran fully down your cheeks.

“Oh my God. Thank you.” You jumped from your chair, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

Initially taken by surprise, he hesitated momentarily before letting his body relax into your hold. His hands landing on your back as you sniffled into his dress shirt and whispered quiet thank you’s in his ear.  He threw up his own thanks at the office being empty. Something tells him that you may have restrained yourself more with an audience.

Starting to feel you pull away, he resisted the urge to cling to you. It had been a while since Andy had a genuine hug. He had been mostly regulated to side hugs with Laurie. Every once in a while, it would include a kiss to the cheek. And Jacob, well he was fully rooted in his teen years and any idolization that he might have had for his dad had been long gone. He would only get quick nods of recognition from over the top of the phone from his son. But now with you, he could feel the heat of your body, the small catches in your breath as you tried to regulate your outburst. This was something he couldn’t give up.

“I’m so sorry. That’s not very professional of me. It’s just…this means so much to me.”

Your tearful smile at him tempted him to bring you back into his embrace. To just hold you as all the happy tears flowed out of you.

You giggled again, shaking your head, “I have to tell my parents. I have to…”

He nodded at you, seeing all the possibilities run through your mind. He had opened doors for you. Had given you a better future. Had put that delighted smile on your face. He had done that. You quickly began to pack up your remaining things, yesterday’s brief stuffed in with your laptop. Turning to him again, you smiled again grabbing onto his forearm and squeezing.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas Andy.”

“Can you believe it, Jake? I can enroll whenever I’m ready. There’s a space just waiting for me.” You talked animatedly to your best friend as you placed the carved paperweight on your bookcase. It would sit perfect with your old undergrad books and picture of Jake and you from your graduation.

“That’s amazing, Ace! So, he just called a friend and got this all sorted out?” Jake asked facetiming you from his room.

He had suspicions about your kind of boss since before meeting him Thanksgiving. You had mentioned how many late nights you had been spending at the office recently and how walking out at night gave you the heebie-jeebies. The protector within him woke up immediately at that, ready to offer to pick you up if he needed to. You would never ask him to do that yourself. That’s when you brought up Andy Barber and how he started walking you out.

It hadn’t taken Jake long to dig up information on the ADA. He had the white picket fence life, although there wasn’t too much about his past listed. That was the first red flag. Hacking into the courthouse’s camera feed had been relatively easy. These older government buildings never bothered upping their security.

Andy Barber always parked in one of the garage’s blind spots. That would be the second red flag. After you left, Andy wouldn’t be seen exiting until half an hour later. What could he possibly be doing in a parked car for thirty minutes? That was the final red flag.

“His friend is the registrar at the school. He was able to work it out. What?” Sitting down on your bed, you leaned back looking at Jake on your phone. He was making his slightly worried puppy dog face.

“It’s just that’s a lot to get coordinated so fast.”

“Why can’t you just be happy for me, Jake?” You asked only to see Jake’s face immediately deflate. The worried puppy dog look morphing to kicked puppy. His eyes widening behind his glasses.

“Of course, I’m happy for you Ace. It’s just that you’re too trusting sometimes.”

“I’m not a child,” you grumbled back, and Jake wanted to jump through the phone and ease your anger.

“You’re not. You’re a person with a good heart that wants to believe the best in people,” he saw the crease in your brow ease as he spoke, “And that’s why I gotta look out for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your small smile at Jake’s statement. From the first moment he had run into on his skateboard, knocking both of you over in the quad in college, he had looked out for you.

“When do you come back?”

“Why? Do you already miss me?” You watched Jake wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, causing a round of giggles to erupt from you. He pretended to be hurt by your outburst before continuing, “Probably not until the new year.”

You hummed, sitting back up, Jake and you sat in silence as he watched the disappointment take over your expression. He searched for a way to get you to smile again when he heard the knock at the door. Quickly looking back at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing he had locked it.

“I gotta go, Ace.” He watched you nod a short okay, before finally getting up from your bed.

“I miss you.” “I miss you too, Jake.”

Andy sat down at the desk in his home office. Neck stretched back along the back of the chair, as he thought back on the last couple of hours since getting home. Walking in, he noticed all the lights were off, not even the Christmas tree in the den was lit. Disengaging the alarm, he made his way into the kitchen to see a sticky note stuck to the fridge. Laurie had to go back into the office to finalize the preparations for the end of the year gala, while Jacob spent the night at a friend’s. So much for family time.

Putting an order into the local Italian place, he went upstairs to change out of his work clothes. He contemplated jumping in the shower, until he heard the doorbell ring with his takeout. Turning on the tree in the den, he ate his pasta dish with only the twinkling Christmas lights on. What had his life become? What had his family become?

Dropping the to-go containers in the trash, he wandered back to his office. He thought about powering up his laptop and finishing the closing remarks for one of his cases, when he found the holiday favors that you had passed around the office this morning. Your red sweater on, you greeted everyone with such joy for the upcoming holiday. He couldn’t help but smile up at you, as you left the favor on his desk.

You were a sweetheart. His sweetheart. His sweet girl. He rubbed along his bottom lip as he remembered your reaction to his gift. The hug had surprised him. But fuck if he hadn’t loved every minute of it. He didn’t even mind the soft sniffling you made as your tears stained his tie. He had made those tears.

Opening his iPad, he logged into the recently downloaded program. Would you have already told everyone about what he had done for you? Would you have passed around the carved seal of your new school for everyone to admire? Would you have put it in a place of pride? He wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to check.

Finishing entering the credentials, he watched as his screen came to life and he saw your bedroom space. It was cheerful like you, with multiple pillows adorning your bed and bursts of color in the pictures you hung on your walls. He devoured the scene, greedily taking in everything he could see, when he heard the click of the bedroom door. The small camera was powerful and could zoom 10x but was stationary in the middle of the school seal.

He waited, hearing you hum a Christmas song along the with opening and closing of drawers off camera and the tossing of a bath towel on the bed. Finally making your way into view, he saw your silk two-piece set. The navy-blue pajama top with white piping along seams hugged your tits. Your free tits, there’s no way you were still wearing a bra with the way your nipples poked through. And the shorts that accompanied it, covered the curve of your ass, but he watched as they inched up as you started to turn down the bed.

He shifted in his seat as he set the iPad to lean against the monitor stand on his desk. Widening his legs and easing back into his chair, he adjusted himself. He hadn’t had a chance for his nightly ritual. But seeing you now, he was happy to see he would have new things to add to his memory. You always knew how to take care of him. His sweet girl.

After setting most of the pillows aside, you climbed into bed, reaching over for your earbuds and phone. He couldn’t tell what you were listening to but judging by the content smile on your face, it must be good. He watched as you closed your eyes, listening to whatever was piping through your earbuds. Reaching down, he rubbed himself through his pajama bottoms. Nothing too aggressive, just softest of touches. The kind he always imagined you would give him. Always delicate and soft at the start.

He sighed to himself as he watched you, “My sweet girl.”

Lost in the moment, he didn’t catch you shifting at first. However, looking back at the screen, he saw your hand move to your top. You let out a small sigh as your fingers started to flick at your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. He frantically sat up, engaging the zoom function to watch up close. Your nipples were amazing, and he knew given the chance he would lap at them, giving them little bites to see you squirm. Your eyes were closed, breathing harsher, as you played with your tits.

“Play with her tits, sweet girl. Show me how sensitive they are,” He whispered as he took full hold of himself. After hitting his fist on the underside of the desk, he pushed back from it to make room for his hand as he continued to slide up and down his shaft.  

He could hear the little sighs you were making as they started to get louder. He knew you would be vocal. You would tell him everything that made you feel good. Both your hands covered your tits while the buttons of your shirt lay open from where you had torn it open to get your hands in.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” He squeezed around the tip before breaking contact with the screen to spit down onto himself. At feel of his warm saliva, that winking eye dribbled out onto self.

Hearing shifting, he looked back to find you grabbing one of the pillows you hadn’t bothered to put aside. Now, what were you doing now? He watched as you grabbed the forgotten towel still at the foot of your bed. Placing the pillow in the middle of the bed, you draped the towel over it before swinging a leg over and straddling the setup.

“Fuck me. Take what you need, sweet girl.” He grunted as you started to rock back and forth on the pillow.

Your hips started a natural rhythm, one hand still pawing at your tit while the other held you steady on your perch. As he looked on, the more he dribbled out on his hand, and he finally reached down pushing his pants and underwear off. His ass was momentarily cold on the leather of the seat, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as you kept humping your pillow.

“Daddy.”

Andy nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard your whisper. Your bottom lip now caught between your teeth as you whined.

“Daddy is here. Fuck, I’m right here.” He fisted himself, finally dropping to grab onto his balls and rolling them in his palm.

“Daddy, please.” You mewled out your whimper and he had to grab tight at his base to avoid blowing his load right then and there. You were close, but fuck him, if he missed it by losing it first.

“What do you need, sweet girl? What do you need from daddy?”

“Daddy, I can’t.”

How could you answer him? You had to know. His sweet girl was so smart, she could figure anything out. You had to know he was here. That he could see you. That he was watching you. You were doing this for him.

“Yes, you can. Daddy says you can. I’ll even count down. Five.”

You stuttered slightly before picking up your pace again.

“Four.”

He tightened his grip, corkscrewing his hand on each trip up.

“Three.”

Your breathing was getting harsher as you brought down your other hand, using both to steady you as your hips rolled.

“Two.”

He was almost there. His balls had already started to pull up as he planted his feet to thrust into his fist.

“One. Come on, my sweet girl. Come for daddy.”

He nearly lost it, as you threw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent cry, and the rest of your body spasming. Fucking his hand, he watched as a gush of liquid flew out of you, wetting the towel beneath.

“Oh fuck. Such a good girl. Such a good, fucking sweet girl.”

Standing up, he aimed for the screen as he lost it on the image of his sweet girl squirting for him. He twitched and continued to rub out every ounce he had for her. For once, he didn’t think about it going to waste. It hadn’t, not with what you had given him tonight.

Bracing against the edge of the desk, he flopped back into his chair, as you rolled off your pillow completely drained.

“Thank you, daddy.” You gave one final whisper before peeling off your pajama shorts and grabbing the covers to go to sleep.

“You’re more than welcome, sweet girl. Rest now.”

Andy watched you snuggle into bed, returning to the woman he knew from the office. No longer the horned up, little one that just needed her daddy to take care of her. Taking a tissue from the console behind him, he wiped himself down before wiping the screen and desk. Pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up, he started to log out of the camera’s app, when a dialog box popped up, asking to save or delete recording.

He hesitated only for a moment, before clicking save.

Maybe these work holiday functions weren’t the worst thing in the world.

@sarahdonald87

@buckybarnesisdaddy

@theinheriteddutchess

@welp-heregoessomething

[ewingstan]

Discussion of disabilities in media ahead, this isn’t a thesis so much as some loose musings. Curious what people who’ve spent more time with these topics think. I’m on mobile so forgive the formatting change:

“I don’t want to be a pig,” Laurie whispered.

“A pig? What are you even talking about?” Miltona asked.

“I know we’re not supposed to use terms or labels for them, but… the boy in cubicle three and the girl in cubicle six. When we’re in the dormitories we talk and there’s obviously a set of procedures and protocols where a worker gets… demoted.”

….The Overseer collected a tissue from a stack of tissues on Donna’s undecorated desk. She wiped a dribble of moisture from the corner of Donna’s mouth. There was no reaction, no change in Donna. The older woman breathed at a set rate, blinked at a set rate, and even seemingly filled the catheter bag attached to her chair at a set rate.

So Teachers thing is gradually turning people from “guys indebted to me” to “literal non-autonomous tools.” The most obvious metaphor is turning men into machines, the metaphor Laurie uses is turning them into animals. The external manifestation is them being forced to work in a prison and the internal manifestation is the dignity-robbing lack of control over bodily functions. All of this is pretty effective at making Teacher out to be horrid. I do wonder if we get something unintentional from putting them all together.

An inglorious end tied to becoming unable to take care of bodily functions is a reoccurring trope for wildbow. Khepri covered in snot and tears she won’t wipe away, Lillian dooming the Fishmonger by giving him incontinence. Donna Sledge using a catheter and not having enough of herself left to wipe the drool from her mouth.

I’m kind of curious how people who have disabilities which make it hard to live independently feel about these. Is it frustrating to see a character’s use of a catheter be a narrative signal of their lack of personhood? If you’ve had the experience of losing a capacity, are books which portray the loss of such capacities as uniquely horrible something you’re frustrated by, or relate to? Do you feel seen by the way characters stop treating Donna like a person, feel like the struggles you face regarding how others treat you are on the page? Or are you frustrated that your condition is being compared to getting turned into a pig?

This isn’t really a complaint that wb is being uniquely ableist. I’m not even sure how you tell stories with “loss of some bodily/mental ability as horror” as a theme without running into similar concerns. I don’t necessarily think such concerns mean that we shouldn’t write those stories; I’m not going to come out against authors treating Alzheimer’s as tragic. And I do think this is effective writing, that it successfully makes Teacher out to be a horrible villain by robbing his victims of their dignity. It just reminds me that the standard of dignity being invoked is one that leaves a lot of people out. Not sure how I should weigh that.

[nerdyrevelries]

I have very strong opinions on what type of social media users all of the characters in Little Women would be.

Marmee runs the Facebook page for her neighborhood. You know, the one where people can post about lost pets, barbeques, and give people heads up that there's going to be some reno going on on their house.

Meg is the biggest social media user of the bunch. Prior to marriage, she has a Pinterest board full of fantasies for her someday wedding and she follows multiple cottagecore influencers. After she becomes a mother, Meg gets really into mommy bloggers to the point where her family has to have an intervention because she's wearing herself out trying to make baby food from scratch because she's been convinced it's the only way to make sure her kids grow up with every advantage. She will also cry over Marie Kondo videos on YouTube because she can't manage to have a perfect, uncluttered life with two active toddlers. She is unfortunately very susceptible to seeing the perfect life other people present on social media and assuming that the projected image is an achievable reality and she is failing when she doesn't measure up to it. Luckily, John is very kind and understanding and helpful about this. (He's not much of a social media user at all.)

Jo has a Substack for her writing and a Tumblr where she posts and talks about writing and follows other people who talk about writing.

Beth is a social media enigma. She has a Pinterest where she only has private boards for saving music, and she lurks but does not have an account on a forum for musicians. She otherwise has no social media presence.

Amy doesn't post a ton on her social media. She has an Instagram where she occasionally posts photos of her art or a pretty flower she saw that day. However, she is constantly getting tagged in other people's social media posts as she frequently shows up in pictures on other people's social media. She's very much of the opinion that she wants to be out there living life rather than just posting about it.

I regret to inform you that Laurie has a pranks channel on YouTube and TikTok. He eventually does stop running it after his character growth, at which point he switches to using his social media platform to highlight aspiring artists and musicians and provide philanthropy and outreach.

Professor Bhaer has a presence in academic publications. Outside of that, he enjoys writing reviews of obscure public domain media on the Internet Archive.

[holylulusworld]

Jerk next door (6) - Two new players

Summary: You move in next door to a jerk after a bad breakup.

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Characters: Destroyer!Chris, Captain Syverson

Warnings: angst, mentions of past domestic violence (implied), mentions of divorce, mentions of past physical abuse, scared reader, mentions of past alcohol abuse, rueful Andy, mentions of murder

A/N: It's been a while, huh.

Jerk next door masterlist 

<< Jerk next door (5)

“No,” you violently shake your head. “I won’t set foot into his house. Let Quentin come and kill me. It’s better than being under the care of this man.” 

“Miss,” Chris sighs. He’s fucking tired of taking care of other people’s problems. “I’m tired, my head hurts like hell and I haven’t slept for a week. Please give me a break.”

“Oh,” considering his words you look at the stranger in your house again. He looks tired and sick. “Wait, have a seat. Do you want some water? I got not much food left, but I can make you a sandwich.”

“I came here for a reason, miss.”

“Y/N,” you offer a weak smile. “I’m sorry for barking at you. It’s his fault, not yours. You only try to help me.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and takes the offered seat in your kitchen. “I get that you are mad at Barber. He’s a handful.”

“So, uh-Mr…” you furrow your brow. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Just Chris,” he takes the glass of water you placed on the table and chugs it down. “I’m sorry too. It was a rough month…or rather year.”

Chris closes his eyes for a moment and sighs deeply.

“Maybe you should stay out of this shitshow. I already packed the most important things. I’ll try to start anew somewhere else.”

“He will follow you everywhere you go, miss,” Chris opens his eyes. His blue eyes hold your gaze as you try to find a way to keep him out of your problems. “Quentin Beck is the kind of bastard not letting go. He doesn’t love you but won’t let you live your life without him.”

“He will kill me,” you whisper. “Quentin told me so when I finally found the strength to file for divorce. I embarrassed him by revealing what he did to me. Though, no one was there to help me. They all turned a blind eye to my injuries and his behavior.”

“No man should put their hands on a woman,” Chris sneers. “I will make sure he’ll never get close to you, Y/N.”

“Quentin won’t give up.”

“Let him come,” Chris gets up from his chair because you’re rubbing your arms and your teeth chatter. “You’re freezing.”

“I-I’m scared, is all,” you reply. 

“No. You’re cold,” he shrugs his jacket off and puts it around your shoulders. “You need to calm down. I know Andy was a jerk, but he’s our only chance to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want to hide at his place,” you sniffle. “He’s as bad as my ex-husband.”

“Andy would never hurt a woman,” Chris softly speaks to you. “Laurie got him good. She broke something inside of him. Jerk or not, he will do anything to keep you safe.”

“Promised?” You look up at Chris.

“Promised.”

“Bedroom, bathroom,” Andy nervously points at the bed in his bedroom. “I’ll take the guestroom. This one is bigger.”

“This is ridiculous,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. “If only you left me alone. I didn’t do anything wrong to make you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, sweets,” he sighs and runs one hand down his face. Andy is fucking tired too. “Please let me at least try to make things up to you.”

“You put me in harm's line!” You throw your hands up. “I finally found a peaceful place and you had to ruin it for me. Even if he believes I left town, Beck will come back. If he sinks his teeth in your flesh, you are his next meal.”

Andy smirks. “Let him come. I’m not the tame and friendly lawyer if you fuck with me.” He cocks his head and watches you sit on his bed. Andy clears his throat and softens his voice. “I changed the sheets, and in the bathroom are fresh towels. I brought all your clothes into the walk-in wardrobe. It’s right through that door.”

Andy points at the door next to the bathroom.

“You can put them on the left side. It’s…empty,” he shrugs when you watch him with curiosity. “A habit.” He adds. “My ex-wife used to occupy the left side. I kinda never changed that. It’s empty since I moved in here.”

“I did the opposite,” you admit. “Quentin used the left side, and I put the silliest things on his side.” You grin. “He would so hate it.”

“Hmm…” Andy nods thoughtfully. “We removed any trace you lived at your house. A friend of mine will take your place. I had an emergency meeting with all the neighbors. They know about you, and Beck. Doris and Peter offered to have an eye on the house.”

“You make it sound so easily,” you wipe your wet eyes. “I used my real name, Andy. Sooner than later Quentin will find my employer, and I’m done for. He will come when I least expect it and…”

You look away. 

“He won’t,” Andy suddenly stands in front of the bed. “I don’t give a shit that he’s a cop. I’m an attorney lawyer, Chris is an ex-cop, and—” 

“And I was the leader of a special forces unit,” another man casually walks inside Andy’s bedroom. “Hello, sugar. Andy told me so much about you.”

“Hi,” you choke the word out, unable to think while crowded by the two of them.

The man holds out his hand. “Oh, she’s shy,” he hums and steps closer to look down at you. He looks even bigger than Andy and Chris. His blue eyes are soft, but his large hand promises more than a friendly handshake if you mess with him. “Captain Syverson, or Sy to you.“

„Hi,“ you squeak as he grabs your hand to shake it. His grip is firm, but you know, this is only a fraction of his strength. “I’m Y/N.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” he smirks, still holding your hand. “Andy told me so much about you, but forgot to tell me that you are the sweetest dame I ever laid eyes on.”

“Sy, can you just not?” Chris joins the party. He immediately glares at Syverson, not liking said man is still holding your hand. “We have a lot on our plate. Quentin Beck is sniffing around town. We got to stop him.”

“Let me break his neck then,” Sy grumbles. “Problem solved.”

“We are talking about murder in that case,” Andy ever the lawyer retorts. “We can’t just kill him, okay. All we have to do is convince him that Y/N left town.”

“All we gotta do is rip him a new one,” Chris bites back. “That piece of shit deserves to be punished for the crimes he committed. He’s hiding behind his badge.”

“I did a background check of Mr. Wonderful,” Syverson draws your attention back toward him, and away from Chris. “Y/N wasn’t the first woman he has hurt. Three of his former girlfriends reported him to the police.”

“Let me guess, the reports disappeared,” Chris makes a face. “I told you, he’s a piece of shit and had it coming for a long time.”

“Chris, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we can’t run around and kill random people. Bastard or not,” Andy stops the two men from conspiring. Both are skilled and undoubtedly able to take Quentin down. “We need to do this the right way.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock,” Syverson grunts. “The other women tried to do it the right way. No one helped them. The reports disappeared, and his colleagues made sure that they didn’t try to file another report.”

Andy scowls at Syverson. “I get it. He’s not a sweetheart and we are on our own. Let’s make sure he’ll never hurt a woman without killing him then.”

You rock back and forth while the men decide on your ex-husband’s fate.

Whatever is going to happen, you are too weak to stop them or Quentin…

Part 7

Tags in reblog.

[reciprocityfic]

champagne problems, chapter ten (epilogue)

title: champagne problems fandom: little women pairing: theodore laurence x amy march rating: m summary: amy accepts fred's proposal, and laurie comes home and marries jo. but instead of it being the end of something, it's just the start of something bigger.

(or, how laurie and amy find their way back to each other.)

chapter one: champagne problems chapter two: right where you left me chapter three: it’s nice to have a friend chapter four: the end is here chapter five: moments that we stole (on begged and borrowed time) chapter six: this godforsaken mess chapter seven: love slipped beyond your reaches chapter eight: cracks of light chapter nine: evermore

author's note: please be sure to read chapter nine (linked above) before reading the epilogue - i posted both today!

epilogue

She’s awakened by gentle, sloppy kisses pressed over and over again along her neck. Even in her groggy state, she can’t help but smile softly. She brings her hand up to rub at her eyes before reaching down and lacing her fingers together with his against her stomach.

She loves when he wakes her up like this.

His kisses become firmer when he feels her stir. She grins again, and then turns her body so she can look at him, taking her free hand and smoothing his mussed hair.

“Good morning, my lord.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Laurence,” he breathes, and she rolls her eyes, making him laugh lightly. Even after these years, being referred to by her married name still sends a thrill through her, which he takes advantage of quite often.

He leans down and presses his lips to hers in a long, lazy kiss. She can already feel him hardening against her, and her stomach flips.

“Good morning, Amy,” he murmurs against her lips. 

She places another peck to his mouth in response, then another, until they’re once again engaged in a deep kiss. His hands slip under her nightgown, and she begins to pull his sleeping shirt off his shoulders and over his head. Their actions are second-nature after so much time together, but as he pushes into her and their hips begin to move together, it feels just as exhilarating as their first night together. As their first forbidden kiss on the hill behind Orchard House.

She’s accepted that she’ll never become accustomed to how much she wants him, will always want him. She wouldn’t have it any other way, really.

She takes his face in her hands while he thrusts inside her, beckoning him to open his eyes. He obeys, gazes at her as his breath catches with each of her movements against him. His eyes only flutter close as she finishes, spasming around him, and a moment later, she feels him release within her.

She pulls him down, collapses him on top of her. The warm sun of a late spring morning pours in through the bedroom windows. Between the comfortable light, the cocoon of blankets around her and his weight on top of her, she couldn’t be more content. She begins to drift off, her eyelids drooping as he places one, two, three kisses against her cheekbone before pressing his lips to the tip of her nose.

She opens her eyes sometime later when she hears a gentle knock against the room’s door. She stretches, shifts until she can see who has woken her up this time, and grins when she sees her two favorite people staring back at her.

She reaches across the bed for her nightgown, pulls it over her head as Laurie approaches with Bess, both of them already dressed. The little girl reaches for her as her husband sits on the edge of the bed, wiggling out of his arms and crawling across the mattress to her mother.

“Momma, Momma, Momma,” she babbles repeatedly, as she settles into Amy’s lap.

“Good morning, my angel,” Amy tells her softly, dropping a kiss on top of her soft, light brown curls.

“Momma sleep,” Bess tells her, reaching up to pat her hands against her mother’s cheeks.

“Yes,” she replies, chuckling softly at her daughter before shifting her gaze to Laurie. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” he says, and then leans down onto the mattress to catch Bess’ attention. “Momma sleep a looooong time.”

Bess giggles at her father, reaching out and grabbing his finger before turning back to Amy.

“Momma eat?” she asks.

“You’ve missed breakfast, but you should be able to make lunch,” Laurie informs her, and she nods before stretching again, lifting her hands over her head.

“Here, darling,” Laurie begins, standing up and scooping up Bess as she protests and reaches back for her mother. He assures the girl that both he and her mother will be downstairs soon, and peppers kisses on her face until Bess laughs and agrees to be handed off to one of the servants standing just outside the doorway.

Then, Laurie turns back to Amy, a cautious look on his face. She furrows her brow, silently asking him what the problem is. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope.

“This came yesterday morning, while you were with Marmee and Meg,” he tells her gently as he approaches, handing the letter to her. “I meant to give it to you when you returned, but you were in such a good mood I didn’t want to ruin it.”

She looks down at the envelope in her hands, sees her name scrawled across the front in Jo’s unmistakable handwriting; she gulps.

She’d sent a letter to Jo about a month ago. They hadn’t spoken or written to each other for nearly four years - not since that awful, fateful day when she and Laurie had confessed their love, and her sister stormed out, vowing to never return.

She hasn’t. She’s come to visit to see the rest of her family, of course, but has given Marmee strict instructions for Amy and Laurie to stay away.

Amy doesn’t regret one step on the journey that led to her life with Laurie, but she misses her sister desperately. So she wrote Jo, in a probably misguided attempt to start to build a relationship with her once more. She scribbled down about ten versions of the letter - she’d never considered herself a very good writer, especially when compared to her sister, and every iteration came out a rambling mess of thoughts that she wasn’t even sure made sense - before hastily sending the final version without giving it a second glance, knowing that if she started to scrutinize it like she had with the others, the message would never leave her desk. She gave the letter to Marmee afterwards, telling her mother to deliver it to Jo with tears in her eyes.

The letter, again, was jumbled and long, a mess of ideas that ranged from how much she longed to see Beth again, to her overwhelming desire for Jo to meet Bess, to the way her heart ached every time they all gathered at Orchard House for Sunday dinner, knowing that a vital piece of her family wasn’t there, might never be there again.

But above all, she asked for Jo’s forgiveness, in disjointed words and cluttered, crossed-out sentences. Are you angry with me, still? she had asked at one point, feeling once again like she was a young girl sitting in front of the fireplace after burning Jo’s manuscript, ashamed and desperate for her older sister’s mercy.

The letter in her shaking hands now is thin - it can’t be more than a few paragraphs long, if that. The sinking feeling in her stomach knows that it’s probably a curt dismissal, a short and scathing rebuke.

She doesn’t deserve my forgiveness! And I will hate her, I will hate her forever!

Lauries reaches out, grasping one of her unsteady hands and leaning forward so he can press a kiss onto her forehead.

“I don’t regret anything,” he assures her, and she knows this, but it’s comforting to hear all the same. “I’d do it all over again - every bit of it - if it meant I was allowed to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Amy leans into him, buries her face into the crook of his neck.

“I would, too,” she tells him.  “But it still…”

She trails off as tears gather in her eyes. He nods, and speaks gently into her hair.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Amy.”

They hold each other for a moment more, and then she lets out a shaky breath, staring down at the letter in her hands once more.

Laurie leans down so he can look into her eyes, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear that has fallen down her cheek, and then kisses her, softly and deeply.

“I love you. More than anyone or anything in the world.”

He’s told her that a million times by now, but butterflies still flit in her stomach every time she hears those words, and she can’t help the small smile that turns up the corners of her mouth.

“As I love you, my lord,” she replies, and he smirks.

“Take your time,” he says as he stands and walks toward the door. “I’ll keep Bess busy until you’re ready.”

She nods, and then he walks out of the room, leaving her alone with the letter. She decides to tear it open immediately, like ripping a bandage off.

She takes one sheet of paper out of the envelope, and unfolds it slowly. It’s one sentence, as she expected, and she closes her eyes before she reads it, preparing for the words to eviscerate her heart.

Then she remembers that her Laurie, her Bess, are waiting for her downstairs, and she opens her eyes.

And, as another tear falls from her eyes, she smiles. There, again in Jo’s unmistakable handwriting.

Life is too short to stay angry at one’s sister.

a/n:

dear readers,

and thus our story concludes.

as always, thank you to each and every one of you that took the time to engage with this story (special shoutout to those who left kudos/comments). this is not only the most popular story i've ever written, but also the one that means the most to me. i'm so glad i could finish it for you all - even if it did take ages - and i hope the ending is satisfying to you all.

lots of love <3

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Prettier When You're Mine

Dark!Andy Barber x Reader

Author’s Note: Two more chapters on this one

Summary: One year into working with a young, bright and beautiful junior prosecutor, Y/n, who bears an almost uncanny resemblance to Andy’s late wife, Laurie, he finds himself developing feelings for her. Though, when she brushes off his advances, Andy proves that he’ll do whatever it takes to recreate his family.

Disclaimer: 18+ This work contains dark themes, including stalking, dub-con, infidelity and manipulation. Read at your own discretion.

Masterlist Playlist Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Weeks after her visit to Andy's house, Y/n makes an unsettling discovery and Andy reveals an even more sinister truth Warning: mentions of forced sex, mentions of stalking, possessiveness, mentions of pregnancy

Twelve weeks Later

Food poisoning. Stress. A newly developed food intolerance. Some sort of undiagnosed illness. 

Off all the things that could have caused the wave of symptoms she’d been experiencing, two faint, pink lines on a little plastic stick was the last place Y/n figured she’d find her reasoning. Holding the edge of the bathroom counter in a white knuckled grip, she shut her eyes and bent her head. Sniffling softly, she felt a slow, warm trickle down her cheeks and it was a task in itself to quiet her sobs.  

It wasn’t possible- it wasn't supposed to be possible. 

Unless-

“Babe?” A knock on the locked bathroom door made Y/n jump, and hastily wiping at her eyes, she checked her reflection over while emitting a sound of encouragement. “I’m almost ready to leave-”

“Already?” After capping the test and shoving it into the waistband of the back of her pants, she pulled the door open abruptly, causing James- who had been leaning on it- to stumble forward a little. “I didn’t realize it was seven already.”

He glanced at his watch and flashed her a look of concern, “Its actually seven thirty,” reaching out, he cupped the side of her face and she tried to smile, hoping that the sting in her eyes would wait till he’d left. “You’re still sick?” He frowned deeply and then chuckled halfheartedly as he teased, “I thought you were better, you had half a pizza last night.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/n smiled faintly and laid her hand on his forearm, “I’m fine,” she lied. It was hard to keep it together, but the last thing Y/n wanted was to have to explain everything to James when she could hardly make sense of it all herself. “Its just um…my hair is being uncooperative.”

He didn’t look like he believed her, but played along anyway, “Looks great to me,” he bent his head a little too swipe a kiss off her lips. When he pulled away, James searched her eyes and furrowed his brows, “You’re sure that you’re okay?” He moved his hand to slip two fingers under her chin, “Because if you want to stay home, I’ll stay with you or-”

“I’m fine,” Y/n forced herself to smile, “Go to work,” she tiptoed and kissed him again. 

He sighed, “Alright. Alright. And you’re sure you don’t want a ride?” Y/n shook her head in refusal, already deciding that she had other plans and wanting to get out of her current situation as soon as possible. “Okay,” his smile faltered, “Well I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Y/n blinked quickly, barely holding it together, it was getting harder to lie to him by the second, and all she wanted was a few minutes to break down in peace, “Later.” 

“Love you,” James said softly before kissing her one last time, and with a subtle, unnoticed break in her voice, Y/n returned; 

“Love you too.”

Later that day

Letting out a long, slow breath, Y/n wrung her hands together. She was shaking in her shoes and barely holding it together; it felt like her whole life was falling apart while she’d been reduced to nothing more than a powerless spectator.

She was late to work that morning, having impulsively decided to detour to a local women’s clinic. A free one that time so she wouldn’t have to use insurance or her banking information- the last thing she needed was James finding out about it from anyone but her. It, up to the minute she’d seen the little grainy image on the blueish screen, Y/n had taken to calling the baby in her belly ‘it’. Because it wasn’t possible; it wasn’t supposed to be there. It was going to ruin everything. 

But then she’d seen it and within a second, everything had changed. She fell in love. 

And she was so scared of that love. 

The nurse at the clinic had been alarmed by her very expressive outburst; loud wailing and messy tears. She’d asked if something had happened to put her in that situation, if she needed to see a social worker or wanted a pamphlet on termination. Y/n had refused both. 

“Okay,” Y/n exhaled heavily, touching her lower stomach, “Let’s do this.” 

Another breath. 

Clenching her fist so tight she could feel her nails leaving crescent shaped bruises on her palms, Y/n knocked on the door. She would have just gone in, she wanted to, but Y/n also wanted to prolong her final moments spent in denial. 

“Come in.”

Another breath. A bigger one. 

Turning the knob, Y/n crept inside and shut the door behind herself. Her throat suddenly felt dry and when he looked up from his work, and when he flashed her an unsuspecting, innocent gaze she felt rage boil in her center. They hadn’t talked about what had happened at his house, Andy for one had seemed to have forgotten, making Y/n wonder if he’d been that drunk. 

She’d even started wondering if it had all been a dream because how could he forget when she thought about it everyday? 

“Y/n,” he folded his arms, “You’re-”

Late. For a lot of things. 

“I know,” she cut him off hastily, “We need to talk.”

It might have been her tone, or just the weight of her words, but Andy sat up straighter, relaxing into the back of his chair and knitted his brows. Frowning, he asked, “What is it?” Y/n hesitated, and he though he encouraged her to sit, she remained standing, “Sweetheart if you don’t-”

“Please don’t call me that,” she cut him off hastily, shaking her head, “You have no idea-” Her voice broke with emotion and she sniffled loudly.

"Hey," Andy crooned, standing and crossing the floor to come near her. Though, when he reached to touch her face, Y/n filched, and his jaw tightened in response. With a scoff, he raised his hands in mock surrender and stepped away to lean on the edge of a bureau against the wall while she lingered near the chairs at his desk

Peeved by his reaction but still crippled with anxiety, Y/n whispered, “This is really important.”

“I wouldn’t know, you haven’t told me yet,” he shrugged and she wasn't sure if his disregard was coming from his annoyance with her or just the fact that he seemed to enjoy seeing her vulnerable. When she still didn’t speak, Andy started again, “I want to help you, but-”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, refusing to look at him. 

Andy huffed, straightening his back as his grip on the edge of cupboard loosened, “Congratulations.”

Lifting her head, her jaw dropped when she realized his apparent amusement, “No, you don’t understand,” Y/n explained in a panic, “I’m twelve weeks pregnant and....." For a moment, she considered telling him about James' infertility, but Y/n didn't think she wanted him to know that much about her personal life. "It doesn't matter," she shook her head, "You're probably the father." Most likely.

Andy scoffed a chuckle, “I know. How's that for your ten percent?” 

Her lips quivered and Y/n felt like the room was spinning. As heavy breaths threatened to turn into a full on panic attack, she reached for the back of the closest chair for support. “What?”

“I know,” Andy repeated, licking his lips before he stood, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, “I know...everything. About James; the accident and his……little problem.”

Slapping her hand to her mouth, Y/n emitted a choked sob. “Oh my god,” her words were muffled into her palm, “You knew.” Andy came to stand behind her, laying one hand on her shoulder while the other snaked around to flatten on her stomach. There wasn’t a visible bump there yet, but there was a distinct firmness that she’d only started noticing earlier the last week.

“Don’t touch me,” as a whirlpool of emotions engulfed her, Y/n shoved him off, “How did you know?” 

A car wreck when he was sixteen temporarily left James paralyzed from the waist down and had permanently left him unable to have children. He’d been up front about the whole thing when they’d first started getting serious, and they’d even had a battery of tests run after they’d moved in together, just to be sure. For years, Y/n had promised, him and herself, that she didn’t care that they would never have biological children, and for years, it was true. She was okay with it being just the two of them for the rest of their lives, she was okay with adoption if they ever decided to have children.

But then she’d seen that couple at the doctor’s office and the most intense mixture of jealousy and heartbreak had overwhelmed her to the point of wondering if she actually was okay with never being able to get pregnant, or if she was just going along with it because she loved him. 

“Give a dirty cop three thousand dollars and he’ll show you the world,” Andy taunted, reaching out to touch her face and clicking his tongue when she slapped his hand away, “You don’t have to be upset, I'm giving you what you want.” 

“I didn’t want it like this!” She laid a hand over her stomach protectively, “You can’t do this to me, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Andy stepped forward to box her in, “Have a abortion? I know you don’t want that, else you wouldn’t be here right now. And don't you think for a second that you’re gonna pass my baby off as his.”

“Who’s to say you can stop me from doing either?”

The thought had crossed her mind when she determined that Andy was her baby’s father; she could lie to James and let him think they’d run into a miracle, or she could have an abortion at the women’s clinic and move on with her life. But Andy was right, she wanted that baby and lying to James for the rest of their lives wasn’t something she could bring herself to do. Their relationship had been built on trust and honesty, if they raised that child together and he somehow found out that it wasn’t his, he’d be devastated and everything they had would be ruined. 

And Andy deserved to know that he had a baby out there, at least, that was the fact that Y/n had convinced herself of on the cab ride over to the office. 

In an instant, Andy had her by the neck, holding her against the door. His grip wasn't tight enough to completely cut off her air, but it was firm and hurt. “You won’t,” Andy snarled, letting her throat go in favor of grabbing the the neckline of her blouse and pulling her up to his face, “You get rid of this baby and I will fucking kill you,” he shoved her against the door again, eliciting a frightened gasp, “And you tell him that its his, or try to run away or do whatever that brilliant little mind of yours can come up with and I will hunt you down and kill him with my bare hands. And you will never see this child again.”

“Why are you doing this?” She shuddered, voice quiet and scared. 

He was proving to truly be a monster. To be all the things she’d heard about him; the kind of man that could raise a murderer- because he was capable of being one himself. 

When he let her blouse go, his demeanor shifted completely. With newfound gentleness, Andy's eyes softened and he smoothed his hand over the wrinkles on her blouse. Trailing his fingers down her body he stopped to cradle the front of her hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles in the area a couple inches below her navel. “How can you ask me that?” He frowned, “I’m doing this for you- for our family. I just want our family back.”

A hitched noise contained in her throat followed the return of a thought she’d had back at his house; it was never about her. “I’m not her, I’m not Laurie.”

Andy’s long lashes fluttered as his gaze flitted to meet hers, “You’re not,” he agreed, touching her face gently, “You’re so much better. She was weak and stupid. She killed my baby boy,” he leaned his forehead against hers and while she was scared to the point of her blood running like ice water, Y/n didn't dare move away, “But you’ll protect our baby, I know it. You'll be such a good wife and an even better mother, I knew it from the moment we met.”

“I love my fiancee,” she whimpered. 

“No,” his mood shifted suddenly and Andy grabbed her by the shoulders, holding Y/n to the door, though not violently. “I see the way you look at me. You feel the same way I do,” he pressed urgently, “This is the way its supposed to be.”

“This the way you made it,” Y/n counted fearfully. 

He scoffed, bemused again, “Call it divine intervention.” Though his grip on her shoulders was bruising, Andy used his thumb to trace affectionate circles into the fabric of her coat, "Now,” his tone dropped again, “I’ve told you what happens if you make the wrong decisions. So you’re going to do as I say, and we’re going to fix this, together.”