#theodore laurie laurence x reader

[necstasy]

thoughts on laurie. specifically dirty!!

like he’s the perfect golden boy to your family and treats you so well but the moment you’re behind closed doors his cock is down your throat and his hand is gripping your hair

mention of barf; very slight dark!laurie (squint and you still won’t find it); corruption kink; implied face fucking & LAURIE LAURENCE MDNI 18+

it’s something he gets off to.

the way that just hours before, he’d been having an early dinner with your parents, the perfect picture of innocence. sitting across from you, smiling at your parents on either side of the table, reaching across to take your hand in his every so often to make your mother coo and your father proud.

to them, laurie (theodore as they preferred to call him) was the perfect husband. and he was, just in ways they didn’t know.

you know you got lucky with laurie. there was no way any other man could satisfy your needs like this. no other man that could satisfy both your parents and you.

because that’s what laurie did, satisfy you. even whenever he was aiming towards his own satisfaction.

your mouth wrapped around his cock as you take him inch by inch, introducing the length once more as he held your hair back. he encouraged you from above, reminding you that you’ve done it before, and you can do it again.

“just takes a little bit to get used to, yeah?” he asked you, completely knowing that you wouldn’t be able to respond. he apparently finds it amusing when you try to nod, his lips quirking up and his eyes shining in the light from behind you.

always, he lets you take your time to adjust. and once you’re situated enough, he does the work for you, slow thrusts into your mouth that have his eyes rolling back. once, out of curiosity, you asked him which he preferred, your mouth or between your legs. and he had taken a while to mull it over before deciding on your cunt. but with the way he reacts when he gets to use your mouth, you think he should reconsider.

he is almost unabashed. lacking the cordiality and composure he presented in front of your parents. instead, before you is a laurie stripped of his upbringing. a laurie that you assume had only previously existed during his time in paris, as according to the stories from excitable mouths.

while he’s an obscene version of himself, you’re much worse. you’re salacious. you’re pornographic. drool leaking out of your mouth, your eyes a healthy mix of lazy and watchful as you take in as much of your husband as you can. your hair is an absolute mess, that’s the part laurie takes most pride in. because that is his own doing. his hands insistent in their mission to take your hair out of the frilly updo and let it relax, just as he preferred.

he’s making noises, groans and praising chants. but you’re making noises too. sighs, breaths, hums. every so often you make a noise that’s like a warning, as if you’re afraid that laurie nudging at the back of your throat will trigger your gag reflex one too many times and create a mess.

yet, it’s a mess that doesn’t sound too unappealing for him. he thinks he would like to see you like that. to see you completely wrecked and not in control of yourself. to see you stripped of your upbringing, and presented as a woman he has yet to fully unlock, but he knows exists.

[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.

[loverangels]

I saw laurie Lawrence and i got so excited (i see no fics of him even though he’s like the perfect man even if he sucks sometimes.) i’m excited to see your writings <3

the way things go

pairings- laurie laurence x fem!reader

summary- after over hearing laurie propose to your sister Jo, heartbroken you decide to leave to paris

warnings- angst, not proofread nothing else

'would you do me the greatest honour of making me your husband.'

Laurie's words seemed to replay and echo in the dull hollow walls of your mind. Your heart ached as tears dripped down your face . You were going to tell Laurie you loved him. You thought he loved you.

It was obvious now that you were wrong.

With a hand clamped over your mouth, you muffled the sob threatening to break out from your throat.

What made it worse was that he hadn't proposed to anyone else.

He proposed to Jo.

Anger simmed through you, overtaking the flow of your pain. You had asked Jo if something between her and Laurie had been going on and everytime she replied with 'don't be silly! Laurie's like my brother!' or 'laurie!? What possibly could make you think that!?' and brushed it off with furrowed brows and a disgusted frown.

But that didn't match up with what you had just witnessed.

Through the slightly ajar door, you walked down the hallway of lauries and his grandfather's house, hoping to speak to him only to be met with the sight of Laurie on one knee facing Jo, with a small velvet box holding one of the most gorgeous ring you have ever seen.

'would you do me the greatest honour of make me your husband.'

You held back your sob and flew down the stairs not caring if either of Jo or Laurie heard you.

You ran. Ran till you were in your bedroom, without a second thought, stuffing the rest of your precious belongings into your suitcase, filling it to the brim.

You looked around at your room savouring every inch before hauling your suitcase and down the stairs.

'you're already leaving so early?'

Marmees soft gentle voice called out from behind you, and you sighed turning around to face.

'should I get laurie to help you?'

A weak smile formed on your face, but you knew it was no use. Marmee could see right through anyone.

'no it's alright..I wouldn't want to bother him' your words came out more bitter than you intended to.

Soon without telling Meg, Jo, Beth, or Amy, you walked out of the door.

And to Paris.

'would you do me the greatest honour of make me your husband.'

Laurie knelt on knee holding the velvet box to Jo.

Jo squealed and grabbed Laurie up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

'its perfect! It's time, we need to go tell the others!'

'wait I need to look presentable' Laurie joked before dusting his clothes off and fixing the rough state of his hair.

The pair soon went to Lauries grandfather and told him the news.

He was ecstatic.

They spent an hour with lauries grandfather, before trampling through the thick mount of snow to tell marmee and the girls.

'is she here?', Laurie asked marmee.

Marmee sadly smiled, 'shes already left to the train station'

Laurie felt his heart drop to his stomach.

'what?'

'shes already left to Paris, if you're lucky the train might not have departed yet due to the snow storm.'

You sat on one of the benches at the train station, the bell jar in your hand, as you read impatiently waiting for your train to arrive.

Soon the call of your train was made.

You grabbed your suitcase and bag, holding the book with our arm.

As you began to struggle as you attempted to haul your suitcase and bag on the train, you felt arms grab your suitcase and a familiar voice.

'wait!'

You turned around to see Laurie, his hair sticking in all directions, and his face flushed from the snow.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the train.

'what were you thinking? You were just going to leave? Without telling the girls? Without telling me?' his voice was strained and raspy as if he had been screaming.

'laurie I don't have time for this- the train its leaving!' you harshly ripped yourself from Laurie's grip, attempting to chase the train down as it slowly departed, only to be in his hold again.

He held you against his chest.

'youre not leaving. You cant-why?'

You struggled to find your words.

You looked at him million answers as to why. Why? 'why? Really Laurie why? You know exactly why!' you held a finger to him accusingly as you jabbed him in the chest 'you- what happened to us? We were so close. I love you Laurie. That's 'why?'.' Laurie's jaw dropped as you continued. 'i love you and I thought...' your voice trailed off as you swallowed the lump in your throat frustrated. 'i thought you loved me to. And I went. I went to tell you but you already proposed, I was too late. You love her.' your voice dropped with jealousy and anguish.

'what?' Laurie asked his brows furrowed as he bit the inside of his cheek 'who are you taking about? I love you. Only you.'

You were confused. But didn't he propose to Jo? 'laurie I saw you... I saw..but you proposed to jo.'

Lauries faced changed. His eyes widened as his mouth slowly formed into a grin before he started laughing.

'laurie it's not funny!' you exclaim, yet also finding yourself trying to hide your smile, pushing him away playfully.

Laurie grabbed your hands, enlacing his fingers with yours.

'god, i was practicing to propose.' he chuckled ' I was practicing to propose. To you.'

'oh.' was all that left your mouth but it was nothing compared to the whirlwind of emotions in your stomach.

'so what do you say? Will you be my wife?' he asked grinning as his hands revealed a small velvet box holding the same gorgeous diamond ring.

'yes!' you beamed at him, your cheeks flushed as he slid the ring on your finger.

As laurie quickly embraced you, his chin on your head as you wrapped your arms around your torso, Laurie chuckled,

'i can't believe that after all that practicing this is the propsosal.'

'well I guess that's just the way things go.'

a/n I hate this so much but idk if it's just me 😭 I hope it's okay for you guys!

[feyofmay]

The Oak Door

Laurie x March!Reader (aka "Ducky") Summary: At a gathering in london, hosted by Mister Laurence, Laurie gets drunk & the reader is forced to take care of him. While assisting him, Laurie attempts to propose, & the reader is everything but happy word count: 3.8k Warnings: ANGST, literally that's it just angst, also a lot of self doubt from reader

This story is a snippet from my longer Laurie x reader story, Foolish, Honest Love on ao3. If you want to know what happens next, you'll find out there ;P

Also, I am taking requests for Laurie x reader drabbles/minifics in my asks!!! :)

STORY STARTS UNDER THE PAGE BREAK

To say one’s heart & mind works separately is a lie because the heart is an organ that does not think, nor does it hold any greater understanding of what it is. It has no consciousness, yet is unrightfully given the capability to think & know. Nobody truly thinks with their heart or their throat or their liver or their pancreas. When someone says “thinking with their heart” or “thinking with their mind”, they mean thinking with their intuition or their rationality, or thinking with logic or emotion. They create a great divide in thought that, in all honesty, has & will never exist. A black & white. A right & wrong. A sky & sea. Existing between all of these concepts is a great trench, a lack of understanding, that was dug by the hands of men. 

In thinking with her heart, the middle March finds it best to avoid Laurie, &, in thinking with her head, she agrees with her heart. All of this to say, for the past couple of days, she’s both missed & feared the sight of his face. It’s easy to grow distant from someone when there’s no possible way to close said distance, but, when you’re staying in the same residence per the request of his grandfather, it’s much harder to remain distant, both in a literal & metaphysical sense.

Within the lounge, where she resides now, Miss March distances herself from the greater commotion of the gathering, in the dining hall, without being fully disconnected, like a hand is to the torso. The walls are dressed in a tender maroon wallpaper with an eloquent & detailed moulding of marble & gold, replicating greek columns, which act as a trim that runs across the ceilings. She shares the chaise lounge with other guests as they squeeze next to each other, and their skirts overlap like incoming tides crossing over one another. She’s unsure if she's become overwhelmed by all the stimulus or simply unable to sense anything. The air doesn’t carry any distinct scent. Oddly, the space around her smells of the sound of bustling people & drinks swishing in crystalline glasses. Around her is noise & people, & all of her senses confirm that truth in a monotone wave.  Nursing an empty glass, which she had thrown the contents of into a houseplant & plans to hold for the rest of the evening, she sits within conversation between several men & women, an intellectual hive of people that act more like displays for their attire then beings with bones & blood. For them, knowledge is a sport. It’s a trinket to place on your coffee table to try & impress your inlaws. It’s an accessory to tout & best acknowledge in thoughtful hums & inquisitive gasps. 

A man in a matching set of birdseye patterned, taupe slacks & waist drones on about the recent unification of Germany. While Miss March does find the subject, itself, interesting, she can’t seem to hold intrigue in the conversation. Something about the smoke & the long days warping together in England has led her to misplace the inquisitiveness of the young girl who dreamed of moving to Europe & leaving behind the dreariness of subordinate domesticity. While, with age, she’s gained the emotional intellect necessary to process her emotions beyond simply scraping the shallow tide with her toes, she’s also gained the awareness that, oftentimes, the act of digesting her emotions is tiring. She’s learned that the energy used toward emotions is better spent producing something tangible & of worth. 

Luckily for her, Laurie’s grandfather is a man in the know, which means he knew several associates with daughters of varying ages with varying tastes in clothes who were more than happy to lend a dress to a young lady. Over her crinoline skirt & bodice, a dress in a sweet champagne shade is draped across her. The lacy trim, not wanting to melt into the dress, itself, is a muted purple, almost a grey, that wraps around her puff sleeves & the edges of the champagne tier, with a silk white skirt with a lavender sheen peeks out from underneath. Nothing about the dress is loud. She feels much more at home in the fabric, especially after walking around in the daunting mauve dress like a living, breathing cake topper, a piece of decor for her employer to flaunt. For the first time since leaving New England & Meg & Hannah’s trusted fingers, she’d had her hair done by someone other than her family’s servant. The trusted maid of Mister Laurence had offered & promised to not pull too hard on the March’s hair. As the maid braided & pinned her hair, the middle March almost cried. However, it wasn’t due to any pain inflicted on her scalp, as the maid’s touch was tentative & gentle. It was the simple act of being touched & cared for, a touch Miss March had been subconsciously craving for since leaving her home. A touch she had forgotten until reuniting with Laurie in the crowded foyer. 

Touching her shoulder, a soft hand brushes her & whispers a polite ask for her attention. She flutters her eyelashes, shaking off the weight of the dust that had collected on them, &, with the help of the welcomed touch, swims out of the mental fog she had sunk herself into. Her eyes flitter up & meet with the warm sight of Mister Laurence gazing back at her. Whether the strong scent of candle wax, lingering dust on velvet carpets, & forest breeze eminates from him or the memories of his manor in New England that she spent odd mornings & afternoons in, she’s unsure of. However, it’s another reminder of the young girl she tried to comfort & wish goodbye to before leaving for Lancashire.

“Pardon my forwardness, but, Miss March, I must ask you to join me for a brief moment. I do hate to take away from such wonderful company,” Mister Laurence requests, playing the role of the man wise beyond his years more gracefully than anyone Miss March has ever seen. With a curt nod, not even bothering to bid adieu to the people in the room, she lets curiosity lead her as she rises to her feet & wraps her arms around Mister Laurence’s. Ushering her out of the room at the exact speed that is swift without being suspicious, Mister Laurence guides the young lady to a hallway with no prying eyes or wandering ears. His gaze does not hold the anger of a great man who is weighed down by the hubris of those around him, but in his eyes is something deeply paternal & saddened. Around him, an umber waistcoat & slacks with a herringbone pattern remind her more of a bear then a man of business & wealth. However, her judgement may be heavily clouded from growing up under his watchful eye. While his hair used to be a soft salt & pepper, it has faded to a faint white & grey like the shadow of a tree painted on fresh snow during a cloudy evening. For most, with age comes wrinkles that hide within them their growing envy for the youth that’s being wasted on careless & stupid adolescents. Mister Laurence’s wrinkles are like the rings of a tree, lines that prove that he has lived & seen. They’re a promise that, if one is to ask, he will tell the story preserved in every smile line & crow’s foot. Bending down so his lips hover around her ear, she’s immediately washed in the same sincerity that soaks his demeanour.

“Y/N,” he calls her by her first name, a telltale sign of loyalty & unease from the man, “I do hate to put this upon your shoulders, but my grandson is acting aloof-”.

“In what sense?” she interrupts in the classic March fashion, &, used to this speech pattern, he continues speaking over her. 

“And, while I don’t wish to make you pay for his poor decisions, I have an important associate that I do need to impress,” he explains to her as his hand returns to her shoulder, “And you and I are both well aware that no servant is paid well enough to have to deal with my grandson’s… ”

“Stubbornness?”

“...Tenacity.”

Both finish his sentence at the same time & share a gaze that communicates that neither are completely wrong with their wording. Nodding his head to agree with her, he looks away at the hall ahead. No paternal figure wants to admit their children’s faults. To say a truth is to make it known, but to admit a truth makes it tangible. She can feel the glass ball that rolls up & down his throat, ever so often bobbing at the opening to his stomach. Hiding beneath his heavy wool morning coat, his shoulders tense while trying to protect the rest of his body.

“A servant caught him with several other young women & clearly inebriated,” he reveals to her, & the edges of his lips quiver & twitch as they are tugged by invisible strings into a frown. His words dig a hole into her chest. All that remains is her skin, which caves in & sags where her sternum once was. It leaves a tingling sensation where her muscles & bones used to rest. She feels that Mister Laurence is speaking of a different grandson, which she has never met. What happened to the young boy who would treat her childish fears with utmost sincerity? What happened to the boy who made pinky promises seem like the most honourable pacts a man could make? What monster, what man had stolen the skin from him & now wears it as a costume? 

“I’ll confess. I’m unsure of where I went wrong with him,” Mister Laurence slips out between hushed lips, telling his secret to the wind & Miss March. Pausing to swallow his words, she furrows her brows & purses her lips. Swimming in her mind, she can’t think of any words that can comfort him in this moment of vulnerability. So, rather than speaking, she wraps her arms around the older man & hugs him tightly. Surprise washes him over as she squeezes his ribcage tightly, &, for a moment, he freezes as his eyes dart around to try & catch leering gazes peaking around the corner. But they are hidden in the inky shadows of the hallway. With a long exhale, Mister Laurence allows his tension to escape, & he swallows her in his embrace.. 

“You worry about business, and I’ll worry about Laurie,” she comforts him while pulling away, pausing to fix his bowtie, “He’s very lucky to have a grandfather that’s as kind and loving as you.” Mister Laurence smiles at her reminder as the rosy glow on his cheeks alights the hallway for a moment. Each breath they take in the space that they share feels like it fills each corner of their lungs. Nodding to her, a silent show of gratitude, he leads her to an oak door which lays slightly ajar. Holding the nob, he turns back to her before speaking.

“Thank you for your assistance. He’s in here,” Mister Laurence informs her, & he slowly swings the door open. Immediately, the souring scent of wine hits her face, &, as an instinct, her nose scrunches up & a grimace stains her lips. Splayed out on a couch, dishevelled & basking in his own ruin, she sees more of a strange, unfamiliar man than the boy that she knew. She sees a man that will grow to be discontent with his wife, yet who stays for the kids. A man who never really loved his children but is patiently waiting for the fulfilment that comes from acting in the role that society has told him to. A man who will never be fulfilled. A man that has learned that he must settle for what he has, quietly & miserably. A miniscule part of Miss March relishes at the idea that he’d have to learn how cruel the impartial hand of life can be, but the rest of her is well aware that Laurie will never know “enough”. He’d love his wife, even if she loved another man. He’d work to provide for his kids, &, if the wife was never around, he’d raise them all on his own. He’d move mountains to try to find the better side of “enough”. Laurie will love & love because that is Laurie’s nature. He loves wine & women. He loves trekking through forests & acting a fool, even in public spaces. He loves to engage in conversation while in the company of the March sisters, where no sentence is ever finished & nothing is ever truly said but the quiet “I love you” that rattles around in the pauses between words for a quick draw of breath. Laurie loves Jo. Laurie will continue to love, & love will truly be the cause of his death. Yet, Laurie will find a way to love the silent & cold hand of what lies beyond in a way that no person has ever done before. Miss March cannot even entertain the idea of Laurie living a life that is just “enough” because, to her, his company is more than enough. It is good. It is plenty.

That same man has tossed away his vermillion silk tie & waistcoat, leaving him in a starch white shirt that’s a third of the way unbuttoned & hastily tucked into raven black slacks. Closing the door behind her, the click of the door knob alerts him to her presence. However, his verdant eyes don’t move to meet her as he stares through strands of his messy chocolate hair & up at the silver ring that he often displays on his pointer finger. 

“Are you here to scold me, oh my dear mother?” He asks to the wind, acknowledging her existence. Miss March inhales deeply as the beating of her heart starts to drown out the sound of her breath. Clasping her hands together, she tentatively begins to make her way over to the cobalt ottoman that rests near the matching couch. The room is a demure periwinkle with small etchings of leaves adding a splash of muted emerald to the room.

“No, Laurie. Your grandfather asked me to keep you company,” she tries to ease his nerves as she inches closer.

“No, he told you to keep me away from the guests as I am his greatest failure,” Laurie shoots up at her words, sitting up far too fast for his drunken mind to handle. A warbling groan of pain slips out of his mouth as he rakes his fingers through his hair & clutches his throbbing head. At the sight of his agony, Miss March rushes to him &, readjusting his legs, sits on the edge of the couch cushion, right in front of him. With a tender touch, she gently wraps her fingers around his wrists & rubs small circles with her thumb.

“Oh, shush, you’re as much of a failure as I am a dancer,” She teases him with a sympathetic smile. At her words, a small & raspy chuckle escapes his lips &, tilting his head, his celadon eyes, in which the fields of Elysium hide, gaze up at her. Hiding beneath a smoke of anger, she’s able to see the young boy that she grew up with. The young boy that she once fell in love with. He’s scared & small & all the things a child is never allowed to be. 

In this moment, as much as she despises it, she knows she must admit her faults to him & ask for forgiveness. She was cruel & unjust for bringing up Jo with the intent of spitting in his face. She hurt him with the intention of leaving a mark, & she succeeded in doing so. If he doesn’t ever forgive her, she’ll grow to understand. It won’t be an easy process, but loving Laurie has never been anything close to easy. Taking a deep breath, she shoves the racing thoughts out of her vision & looks him in the eyes.

“I apologise for what I said in the alley, concerning your feelings for Jo. I shouldn’t’ve ever used them to hurt you,” she apologises quickly, &, after speaking, immediately purses her lips together & stares at him. She waits for him to scream. To yell at her to get out. To say he hates her & never wants to see her again. To tell her he always hated her. That he only tolerated her for Jo. To say she’s stupid. She’s vile. She’s not worth Jo or Meg or Beth or Amy’s time. She waits for him to tell her the truth she’s been too scared to say to herself aloud. She waits & waits until, finally, his lips part, & he draws a quick breath.

“It’s alright. I was being mean too, and I, truly, do owe you many apologies, as well, ” he replies with a thin smile, replaying the events in his head. Ducky’s stomach squeezes as relief floods her system, & she sharply inhales while attempting to keep some kind of composure. A tight smile graces her features, slipping past her facade of propriety & decorum. 

“I’ve been spending this past year, & some odd months, wallowing in my own melancholy, but,” Laurie pauses for a moment, slouching forward so his eyes are level with Ducky’s, “but I cannot waste away my life being miserable. If money is truly of the highest concern, then marry me.” His words grab her by the neck, shove their long, spindly fingers down her throat, wrench the breath from her lungs, & pry the air out of her. Her mouth falls agape as she struggles to comb through & fully understand what he’s said.

“Laurie, I refuse-”

“You won’t have to work, nor do you have to love me, & your family will be provided for: Beth, Amy, Marmee, everyone,” he prattles on, afraid of the nearing rejection that comes when he stops to breathe. Ducky can’t hear anything other than her own heartbeat & what, to her, sounds like the faint whisper of Laurie’s voice. She can’t even hear herself think.

“You’ll be happy, I promise. Everyday I will spend in honest devotion to your happiness,” he’s breathless as he finishes his speech, &, feeling the walls begin to collapse in on her, Ducky jumps to her feet. Rushing back & forth, in front of her very eyes, are countless memories of Jo & Laurie, of the way it’s always been. Jo loves her work. Laurie loves Jo. Ducky was left to love the footprints Laurie had left while chasing after Jo. 

“Laurie, I, as a woman, must either enter a marriage for security or for love,” she whispers out as her arms wrap around her waist, squeezing her sides tightly, “while you can marry for any reason under the sun, and I will not be an accomplice in allowing you to waste that privilege.” The room grows smaller, the air between them thinner. It’s hard to breathe & her vision becomes a swirl of blues & greens with a spotty pillar of white & black wiggling around in the centre. Laurie stops, & Ducky stops. Neither move. Neither speak. Neither breathe. The walls stop moving, & everything around them fades into their shadows. They are a boy & a girl. A lady & a man, all grown up & yet the exact same as they were the day that they met. While his previous proclamations were loud & steady, the words he speaks next are a promise meant only for his lips & the spirits that hide in peoples’ breaths. 

“But I can give you both, love and security, if you’d allow me. I’ll inherit my grandfather’s wealth, and we could be happy, all of us.”

Clear on his face is the same sincerity that he’s gifted to her in every moment of embarrassment & shame. His eyes stay glued to hers. After waiting for years for him to say these words to her, she can’t help but feel his admittance is fake. That maybe his words are meant for someone smarter, braver, older, & better then she is. His words are meant for Jo.

“No, no, you don’t get to, this isn’t right,” she bites back, walking backwards & grasping for the door knob yet only finding the air between her fingers, “Stop it, Laurie, please.”. He follows her, &, in his drunken state, collides with the furniture, sending his body awry. 

“Yes, yes I can, and we both know it to be true,” he tries to correct her as he raises his hands to grip her forearms. Her shoulders immediately tense at his touch. His fingers crinkle the poofy champagne fabric that delicately floats around her skin.

“You’re acting a fool, Laurie-”

“I can, I swear on my life Y/N, I am able and I am willing and, and content to do so.”

 “-I won’t allow it, I simply cannot,” she continues to ramble on, & her finger tips brush against the cool metal of the doorknob. Laurie opens his mouth to rebuke her statement, but, before he can, her palm flies up & presses against his lips. Covering his mouth with her hand, she shakes her head as her eyes gleam with tears.

“Please, stop. It hurts, Laurie. Please, Laurie, you’re hurting me,” she pleads to him as her fingers curl around the door knob, “I cannot do it. You broke my heart once already. Is that not enough for you?” 

To watch the boy she admires fall in love with her sister, who she’s loved since the dawn of time, was a constant, real ache that left her sobbing into Beth’s chest as she begged Meg to help her & relieve her of the pain, which was an impossible task. After the middle March had left for Europe & caught word of Jo’s rejection in a letter from Beth, she had a heavy heart knowing that the two people who were connected at the hip for all of her adolescence had now grown cold & distant. It was as if she’d heard that the moon no longer followed the sun, leaving the night cold & bleak. All she has done her entire life is labour & hurt for those she loves without question or complaint. However, she cannot look Laurie in the eyes as he slurs out ideas that would’ve sent her younger self spinning & giggling with a maddening joy. She cannot withstand that pain for him. She doesn’t feel happy or sad. Nor is she angry or scared. All that she can feel is the heavy pounding of her heart & a dull ache emanating through her. The pain swallows her mind, &, while her body still remains, Ducky has clearly fled far from the room. She’s racing down the streets in her dress, seeing how far her legs will take her. 

She yanks the door open just before he can reply & heaves her body through, slamming the door shut after her. Leaning her weight against the slab of carved & varnished oak, a few tears trickle down her cheek as she chokes back a sob, not wanting to alert any guests nearby. In her mind, she’s already ran all the way back to New England. There, back in her home, she lies, hiding her tears in Beth’s dress, as her sisters practically cocoon her, protecting her & the fire from the harsh reality of the world that waits outside their loving embrace & on the other side of the oak door. 

i told you it's literally & only just angst... sorry. please like & repost :)

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡sugar rush 🍰

you've ordered: an assorted dessert tray! enjoy!

"have you got a sweet tooth?"

various timothèe chalamet characters x reader | word count: 1,565 words

summary: just little drabbles about baking with various timmy characters!! 🍰

warnings: none!

note: i didn't do every timothèe character, just some of my favorites!

lee (bones and all) (cherry pie) 🥧

baking with lee would be really cute and also very chaotic. he'd hug you from behind as you'd mix the ingredients to make the dough for the pie crust. he'd definitely sneak tastes of the cherries you're using. lee's actually a pretty good cook and really enjoys baking. he'll be at the stove, sautéing the cherries in sugar and vanilla, while you place the crust in a pie tin. once you pour the cherry mix into the crust, he'll stick his finger in what's left over and smear it on your nose, making you gasp and do the same to him. then he'll smear it on your lips just so he has an excuse to kiss you. once the pie's done, you two clean up and enjoy it together while reading comic books or watching a movie.

laurie (little women) (apple tart) 🍎

laurie would be such a sweetheart when baking. he'd insist that he should do all the work and you shouldn't lift a finger. eventually, you convinced him that you two should do it together. you two would find yourselves goofing off rather than baking. he'd throw flour at you and you'd smear butter on the tip of his nose. you two would laugh before finally deciding to take this seriously. laurie would work on the crust and you'd sauté the apples in sugar and cinnamon. laurie would come over and stick a spoon in the gooey apple mix, giving it a try. you swear, you'd see his eyes light up. once the tart's in the oven, you two would clean up, still messing around as you'd cover each other's faces in soap suds. once the tart is baked, you both curl up on the couch with a blanket, laurie reading to you as you two enjoy your sweet creation.

elio (call me by your name) (peach cobbler w/ ice cream) 🍑

i feel like you'd be working on making peach cobbler to surprise him. but it'd be ruined once he hugs you from behind and glances over you, asking what you're making. you'd have to tell him and he'd laugh, finding it incredibly sweet that you're making a dessert for him, with his favorite fruit at that. he'd ask if he could help and you'd happily oblige. much like lee, elio's a rather talented cook, telling you the right amounts of cinnamon and sugar to use, etc. but obviously, he'd see the peaches and cut himself a few slices, snacking on them when you weren't looking. and when you'd catch him, he'd just laugh and offer you a slice, which you happily took. after letting the peaches soak and sauté, he'd help you make the crumble that goes on top. you'd feed each other pieces of it and exclaim about how good it is. you'd sprinkle it on top of the peaches and put them in the oven. i can imagine you putting on some music and you two laughing and dancing around the kitchen together. once it's done baking, elio would go get some ice cream and you two would sit on your balcony, watching the sunset while enjoying the tasty peach dessert.

yule (don't look up) (brownies) 🍫

it was your idea to bake, yule having his arms wrapped around you from behind as you'd get the ingredients together for making brownies. obviously, you two would goof around, yule sneaking chocolate chips into his mouth, or smearing some of the batter on your nose. you'd giggle and kiss his cheek as he took his turn mixing the batter. he'd probably make a joke about setting some batter aside for him to make weed brownies (pls tell me i'm not the only one who can see yule being a stoner-). while the brownies are baking and you're cleaning up, he'd splash you with water and you'd chase after him with a spoon covered in leftover batter. you're finally done cleaning and the brownies are done! you two probably sit in front of the tv, yule having you in his lap while you feast on the brownies, watching a movie together.

paul (dune) (spiced lemon turnovers) 🍋

i feel like specific fruits would be native to arrakis, specifically citrus fruits. with the use of spice in most foods, it makes a delicious combination. you'd be in the kitchen/ food storage area of the freman sietch, being tasked with preparing desserts for whatever event was going on. as you're cutting lemons, you'd hear the door creak open, turning around to see paul. he'd probably make up some excuse, saying he was looking for stilgar and got lost. he'd peek over your shoulder and ask what you're making. he'd be pretty intrigued, asking if he could help you out. once you agree, you'd have him kneed out the dough for you while you finish cutting and crushing the lemons before cooking them with sugar and spice. paul would find it odd that you're adding spice to the dessert, so you'd give him half a spoonful of the lemon filling and he'd be shocked by how good it tastes. he'd stand behind you as you show him how wrap the turnovers. you'd turn around and realize just how close he was standing, his breath hitting your cheek. he'd give you a soft smile and lean over to kiss your forehead, praising you on how talented you were in baking. you'd smile and let him try, some of them coming out great, some of them looking kinda wonky. but it was still great fun to bake with your boyfriend. once they were done, you two took them out to the other freman waiting outside. you'd tell them that paul helped you out and they wouldn't believe you. it would take forever before they'd stop teasing him about the funny looking turnovers.

wonka (wonka) (chocolate chunk cookies) 🍪

wonka was working on making cookies in the main kitchen of the factory (this takes place after the wonka movie!). you'd given him the suggestion to put his chocolate in other things, like cookies or cake. he'd decided that cookies would be rather simple....he found out quickly that they were not. he told noodle to go get you and your jaw dropped when you saw the mess: flour everywhere, sugar in his hair, a bowl of batter sitting there with a spoon in it, and wonka's chocolate wrappers strewn on the floor. you'd laugh, wetting a rag and wringing it out before going up with willy and wiping the flour and butter off of his face. you'd ask him if he needs some help, to which he'd nod, feeling a bit embarrassed. once you've laughed for a bit longer, you help him clean up the kitchen, then gather all the ingredients once again. he'd watch you with sparkling eyes as you'd pour in perfect amounts of sugar and flour and melted butter. he swore you were a magician, to which you'd laugh and agree. you'd have him try mixing the batter and chop up chunks of his chocolate, placing them into the cookie dough. making little balls of dough and placing them on a sheet tray, you'd pop them into the oven, willy standing in front of it like a child. you'd watch with him, gently playing with his hair and talking about whatever. the timer would go off, he'd get so excited as you take them out of the oven. he'd probably bite into one while it's still hot and burn himself, making you giggle a bit. once they'd officially cooled, he'd try one and tell you he should start selling your cookies in his factory. you'd put the cookies in little bags, planning to give them out to noodle and the others later.

hal (the king) (spiced rum cake) 🍰

even though you're the queen of england, you love baking. hal would tell you that the cooks could bake for you or that he'd hire a special pastry chef just for you. he didn't want to see you, his beloved, working too hard. you'd laugh and tell him you rather enjoyed it, that it helped you relax. you'd be in the kitchen, measuring out flour to make a cake. hal would be looking all over the castle for you, until he'd eventually open the kitchen door to see you with some flour on your face. you ask him if he'd want to help you out and he'd say he'll just watch....which ended up being a lie. he practically did everything for you since he was worried you'd cut yourself or burn yourself. you couldn't help but find it rather cute how your husband dotted on you like that. while making the rum soak for the cake, he'd sneak a swig, insisting that you have some too. sooner or later, you two are both a little tipsy, practically baking while drunk. luckily, you had taken the cake out before you two started drinking. he'd wrap his arms around you, pressing a few kisses to your face and mumbling about how great of a baker you are and how he loves you so much. it was cute watching him cut you a slice of the cake and feed you some, the two of you sharing soft kisses between bites. and guess what...the servants were watching from behind the door the whole time!

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[hiddleswiftt]

I love your fics and I saw you wanted ideas so here I am. I thought maybe you could do a Taylor inspired fic for Laurie with Love Story maybe with like a ball or something?

ooohh! yes! I’ve been waiting on a laurie fic request for a while now!

maybe with another march sister reader??

(tumblr deleted my first draft so i have to re-write!)

LOVE STORY (INSPIRED BY THE TAYLOR SWIFT SONG “LOVE STORY”!)

laurie laurence x march sister (fem) reader!

description - you have been friends with laurie (along with your sisters) since his mother passed away. laurie was the lonely boy who was living with old mr laurence who lived opposite the march house, and ever since he started hanging around with you and your sisters, you’ve started to have feelings for him. six years later, you are travelling around europe with aunt march as her companion whilst you are studying and completing your acting classes. you and aunt march are invited to a ball in paris and someone in particular is on the list for you to dance with for the night! - i tried to make it similar to amy and laurie’s story but the reader wanting to be an actress rather than an artist like amy!

you’ve always loved laurie. always.

even when he had feelings for one of your older sisters josephine (or jo).

you’d be the one sitting aside, especially during your eldest sister meg’s wedding, while you watch jo and laurie dance. amy would reassure you that you’d be okay as you sit with her and beth (as she continued to struggle slightly from trying to get better from scarlet fever).

when beth got scarlet fever, laurie was always around for you. when you found out about it, jo and meg told you to stay with aunt march until beth is well again.

“i don’t want to say with aunt march! id rather catch scarlet fever than stay with her, the poodle and the parrot!” you’d wine as you put your head between the pillows of the couch while laurie would insist for you to stay with aunt march.

he was very persuasive, but in a kind way.

he wouldn’t tell you to do something if you didn’t want to. but this was serious. the spread of scarlet fever was serious. it wasn’t a joke anymore. you just about understood that.

laurie told you he’d come and see you, and you suggested for him to bring either the carriage or the phaeton, which he did, just to make you happy.

whenever laurie came to see you, you’d be dancing dramatically (as you would usually) wearing aunt march’s feathered things. you’d smile at him when you realise he’s been standing at the doorframe of the room watching you.

you’d show him things such as aunt march’s wedding ring (which you told him that she was too fat to wear anymore - he’d snigger at you quietly when you said this), the golden bracelet that was for the only child she ever had (until it died unfortunately…) or perhaps anything else you had found amongst aunt march’s house while she was napping.

you would show laurie the will you’ve written, since you thought you’d be the next to die to scarlet fever. laurie sat with you in confusion.

“from y/n m/n march, this is her will and testament for those that may die after her,” laurie read, “for my sister jo, i give her my..”

in this case the list went on.. and on..

laurie looked at you, “y/n.. you’re not going to die! you’re not even sick!” he tells you, trying to reassure you that you were going to be fine.

then you look across to him, and slump down next to him, “i know.. it’s just a precaution! i will some day.. we all do!” you tell him.

there’s a silence between the two of you. then you finally pluck up the confidence to ask laurie to write something else on your will.

“laurie? i have one more thing for you to add?” you ask him, “i want all my curls cut off to all the men who had loved me!”

you seem a little dramatic, but laurie laughs at you slightly and quickly scribbles it down on the will for you.

“if you want to look horrific in your coffin, y/n, go ahead!” laurie tells you, laughing as he finishes writing your comment on the will.

TIME SKIP -

it had been a year since and you had been travelling around europe with aunt march as her companion, while you completed and studied your acting classes.

you and aunt march were set to attend a ball in paris! you had changed a lot since you left home so aunt march suggested that you should start looking towards marriage now that you are properly of age now.

you had met a man named fred vaughn back a few years ago (he’s a friend of laurie’s) on the lake one summer. aunt march suggested for the two of you to marry, but you were unsure, and you thought that you wanted to make your own match.

you arrived at the ball venue in paris. you looked stunning. one of the best dressed probably..

as you entered the venue, you were given a card which included 6 men that wanted to dance with you for the evening.

you glanced at the names on the card briefly (except for the first - which you headed to first).

gregory lance - the first gentleman on the list. wants to dance “the saraband” with you. so you headed towards him for the dance.

as you quickly got through each dance, you finished your fifth finally. you said goodbye to david molesey - who was your fifth dancer, and looked down to your card again to find your sixth and last dance of the night.

you looked down to spot a familiar name on your card.

‘6. theodore laurence - lancers’

you smile and start to look for laurie, not realising that he was already staring at you from the doorframe of the room.

you smile at him and you decide to meet each other half way.

you hug him straight away, trying not to let you or laurie ruin your look of the night. “laurie! what are you doing here? i thought you were in london with your grandfather!” you said, smiling at him.

he smiles at you, completely in awe of you of how beautiful you look, “well.. i guess i am needed here just incase you need anything, y/n march!” he said, “and you look so beautiful! i almost didn’t recognise you!”

you blush a little and slap his arm softly, “yeah yeah.. what have you been up to, laurie?” you ask him, “anymore of the gambling and the drinking?”

he laughs slightly, “no.. no.. none of that recently, y/n!” he tells you, then you remember something that didn’t do laurie any good recently.

“im so sorry jo turned you down, laurie.. im so sorry.” you tell him, looking at him, making sure he’s okay.

laurie looks back up at you, “don’t worry.. im not..” he said to you, smiling at you and taking in the view of you, then he remembered that you both have a dance together, “miss march? may i have this dance?”

laurie takes your hand in his, leading you to the middle of the room to start the dance. you nod at him, “one often does at a ball, laurie laurence..” you tell him, giggling at him a little.

he smiles at you, as you both walk and start the dance. the dance has become more easier for you both.

you remember when you were younger, probably about five years ago, you and laurie were stood in the laurence house dancing. beth was playing the piano, meg was constantly flirting with mr brooke and jo and amy were giggling at you two while we continued to step on each others feet as you both danced.

oddly it was the same dance that were to start dancing at the ball just then. it was a familiar feeling that you hadn’t seen or talked of in a long while. the nostalgia rushed back to you both immediately.

it felt just right.

as the music and the dance stopped, there was a sense of something between you two.

you invited laurie to talk with aunt march and a few others. a lot of aunt march’s friends thought you and laurie were married!

you just shut your mouth and didn’t say much after that.

MINI TIME SKIP -

you decided to have a break and walk outside to get some air on the balcony. it was getting slightly too warm in the building so it was good to escape for a few minutes.

you didn’t notice laurie behind you, so it shocked you for a moment.

“y/n? are you alright?” he asked you, finally catching up with you and standing next to you on the balcony.

you smile up at him, “yes.. yes.. im fine.. i just needed some air..” you tell him.

you notice two boats on the ocean near to the venue, as you both stood on the balcony. the boats were close together. laurie caught you looking at them, and swiftly looked back at you to admire you.

“those boats are pretty close together.. as if they are on the same path..” you mumble to him.

laurie smiles and takes your hand in his. this gets you to look up at him. “y/n.. are we on the same path?” he asks you.

you suddenly look from the boats to laurie, who had now taken your hand in his. you looked into his eyes. you both knew exactly what you wanted.

“i guess we are, laurie…” you finally admit, as you start smiling at him.

you both stand and admire each other for a couple of seconds, then laurie begins to hold your waist, now leaning into you slowly.

as you both continue to stand on the balcony, you and laurie lean in together for a slow but passionate kiss.

you bring your hand to his cheek, and continue to kiss. the two of you felt alive at this point. more alive than you both have ever felt, ever.

you knew you should’ve told him how you felt years ago, although laurie was in love with jo at the time. gladly, you didn’t think that was the case anymore.

laurie loved you. and you only.

you loved laurie. and laurie only.

you both moved away from the kiss, laughing and sniggering still as if you were still children. you both knew that you weren’t children anymore, since time and your childhoods have gone so fast, and you both had nothing you could do to change that.

you were just happy in the moment. the moment you were continuously picturing for years. you never thought it would ever happen, but here you both were. in that moment together.

you notice something different about him that you didn’t see before.

“laurie. you grew out your hair!” you say, playing with it a little.

laurie laughs at you slightly, “i guess you could care for it?” he says, now looking at you.

you smile at him happily, “always, laurie… always!” you say, kissing his cheek.

suddenly someone with a letter on a tray walks to you and laurie. you pick it up swiftly and open it, making sure laurie stands by you though it, as you think the letter could be what you think it could be.

you read the letter. you were right.

you stand next to laurie and sob into his arms.

“it’s beth…” you say as you put your head into his chest, letting laurie hold you.

you let laurie read the letter. it’s from marmee, clarifying beth’s death.

you weren’t as close to beth as jo was to her. but you did have your fun times. especially that same moment when you, laurie and your sisters were in laurence house together, as beth played the piano while you and laurie would attempt to dance but instead you’d be treading on each others feet.

although you and beth weren’t as close as her and jo were, she still was your sister.

it was as if you planned out her death, as if you planned out your own with the will you wrote and told laurie about a few years ago.

MINI TIME SKIP -

it took you a couple of days to get through beth’s death. you were still in paris, you told marmee you’d come home as soon as possible.

you had a mix of feelings about what could be happening between you and laurie and thoughts of beth, and the fact that you weren’t there to support her when she was dying.

you stood on the balcony of the home you were staying in with aunt march. aunt march wasn’t doing so great herself either. she was falling ill now.

laurie came to see you that same day. he wanted to talk about the relationship you had but he was unsure whether you were okay to talk about it after hearing about beth’s passing.

“i keep remembering that will i wrote when beth had scarlet fever..” you remind laurie, as you both stand together.

“you bequeathed me a plaster horse, if i remember correctly.” laurie thought, as he looked at you.

“i had my death all planned out.. all rehearsed in my mind…” you say, trying not to cry, “i had beth’s all rehearsed and ready too… thought it would.. tear me open.. or burn me down like a house. but now im just frozen!”

laurie took your hand in his again. “ill come and see you everyday, y/n…” he says, admiring you but also making sure that you’re okay.

you look up at him, slowly twiddling your thumb with his, “promise me?” you ask.

he looks at you again, watching you twiddling your thumb with his, “yes.” laurie told you, now reaching into his pocket for something.

you wonder what he was looking for, so you decided to look out at the view from the castle balcony.

it took him a few seconds to find what he was looking for. he brought a black box from his pocket, and showed it to you.

you turned back to him and looked at the box. you were stunned.

“so.. y/n.. could we make it last forever?” he said, opening the box to reveal the engagement ring inside.

you were taken by surprise that laurie wants to marry you. you smile widely, and nod at him, letting him put the ring on your finger confirming your engagement.

MINI TIME SKIP -

you and laurie were on their way home from your long trip around europe with aunt march. aunt march had briefly found out about your engagement to laurie before passing out, and being taken home with aunt carrol and her daughter florence, who had been your other company before laurie arrived.

as soon as you arrived home, laurie helped you out of the carriage to find meg, marmee, father, amy, and jo (slowly) running out to greet you both.

marmee (with her good eye) noticed a ring on your finger. funnily enough, it wasn’t the same ring that laurie gave you a few days ago. it wasn’t the engagement ring.

you smiled down at the ring, and then looked back up at laurie.

“that’s not an engagement ring!” marmee says, realising something.

you and laurie smile at each other as you notice marmee admiring your ring.

“it’s a wedding ring!” marmee says, pulling you into a large hug and kissing you on the cheek, while father shakes laurie’s hand to congratulate us both, and to thank him for marrying you.

you smile at your mother again. “i cant quite get my glove over it!” you laugh, then moving to laurie to give your ‘husband’ a kiss on the cheek.

MINI TIME SKIP -

the hustle and bustle around the march house after yours and laurie’s return and the surprise of your marriage spread amongst the house. especially to mr laurence (laurie’s grandfather), who had told him to go abroad after jo turned him down.

you were happy. both of you were.

turns out that jo was falling in love with the professor she met at the boarding house in New York. she arrived home a week after yours and laurie’s return after being out in town and the professor was waiting for her.

you knew she was in love with him. jo knew you had always been in love with laurie.

you kindly persuaded jo to tell professor bhaer how she felt about him, and from soon after that, all your sisters and yourself were in love.

you all sat together, you and laurie at the piano as laurie played and you rested your head on his shoulder, meg and john with kitty and minnie, marmee and father and finally jo and bhaer.

it just fitted together so perfectly.

please don’t copy my work! <3

(let me know what you think of this fic by giving this post a like, follow and a comment!)

— h4uerkings

[ginnysgraffiti]

&. LAURIE LAURENCE x yn (jo).

okay but to be loved by laurie theodore laurence, who would start writing poetry just because you like to, reducing himself to small hours at his wooden desk until his candle burns out? who would always wear his best decorated and sewn vestments but make sure to treat yourself good looking garments because he knows you can't afford it? who would constantly check you out, not giving a damn about your carefree attitude and the way you dress or behave in order to go against society; but even committing to be as weird as you to share laughter and assure you comfort? who would take you dancing confidently, admitting openly he's actually bad at it but being reassured the exact second he sees you're not an expert at all? who would always make sure to tie your dress or bodice very delicately and take his time to admire how good it looks on you? who would quit giving you expensive items because you told him you were attracted to small things, dedicating his romantic gestures to good smelling books or professional fountain pens or soft writing papers? who would propose a picnic on the edge of a shiny and quiet lake full of swans just to admire you and listen to you talk about your books for hours? who would pick you up bride style anytime your shoes hurt and carry you around his maison making you spin in his arms? who would bring a wooden tray with white and pink tea cups every time you wake up and stretch from your afternoon nap? who would carry the smallest piece of clothing or anything similar that smells like the cinnamon and sweet vanilla perfume you put on? who would let you set up his fluffy curls with pink ribbons when you both sit on the mattress while the sunset disappears behind the green hills? who would love you unconditionally, that kind of old-fashioned love that will always make you live in the 1994, young and frisky, running towards the morning wind as you lift your heavy fabric gown.

[clinquaant]

101 PLOT BUNNIES / Dear Prudence, a Theodore Laurence Fanfiction

PRUDENCE POIRIER WAS ACCUSTOMED TO HIDING IN THE SHADOWS. With her father fighting in the Civil War, she and her mother occupied themselves with finding work so that, when the time came, their family could buy a proper home upon the patriarch’s return.

While scouring the streets of Boston, Prudence and her mother, Mabel, ran into James Laurence, a man who occupied a house larger than he could ever need with only himself and his grandson. After Mabel detailed her prowess as a housekeeper and her daughter’s green thumb for the neglected greenhouse he spoke of, Mr. Laurence gladly accepted the help with the condition that the two women would take up two of his empty rooms, in an attempt to liven up the house into a home once again.

Mabel was grateful that she had come across a genuine man such as Mr. Laurence, rather than being stuck in an unideal situation. Prudence, upon hearing Mr. Laurence’s mention of a family full of daughters that lived across the road, was ecstatic at the prospect of making new friends. What took her most by surprise, though, was the friendliness of Mr. Laurence’s aforementioned grandson.

Listening to her mother’s words of caution, Prudence kept her distance from the boy who seemed to have too-good of intentions. Until, letters with the salutation “Dear Prudence” began welcoming her in the greenhouse most mornings, written in what could only be his impeccable, product-of-being-privately-tutored handwriting.

Mabel instructed Prudence to be respectful, and how disrespectful would it be if she didn’t write to him back?

[cauliflowertree]

laurie laurence—all i want to say is i love you.

laurie laurence x fem!march!reader

summary: romance novel confessions.

word count: 1.1k

fanfic no. 043.

laurie laurence always had a pleasant time with the march sisters—he considered them family, if he could so bold as to say so. but as he grew older, the other sisters began to notice a slight show of favouritism for the third sister, y/n. soft but lively in temperament, she seemed his perfect match. and they didn’t mind so much, for laurie was still very attentive to them, and they observed they would make a very fine couple should they choose to be.

he hadn’t thought he was quite so obvious with his silent affections, but he could not deny his countenance greatly altered when with her, though often he did not realise unless it was teasingly pointed out by someone else who had observed this alteration. let them tease, he thought, it mattered not to him.

he had quietly pined after the favourited sister for many months now, elongated, he felt, by the winter season which seemed to last many weeks longer than usual, which often forced him back home in the early evenings where his lack of company was greatly felt by y/n and the other march sisters.

but when summer finally absorbed spring’s showers, he was greeted with the adoring sight of y/n reading novels in her garden once more. from his window he could see her quite clearly, often getting distracted from his studies which could infuriate poor mr. brooke. laurie was never the most attentive nor obedient student, which was only exacerbated by this consuming infatuation he could not shake, nor did he want to.

as much as his love for y/n tormented him, it was the reason he found himself so eager to greet the day in the early mornings, the cause many of his smiles and happy moments. but as much as this was true, she was also the cause of many sleepless nights, reprimands from his tutor and grandfather for not paying attention and confusion in his life.

despite this uncertainly imposed upon him, as soon as his classes had ended for the day, he headed to the march household—he could wait no longer to tell y/n the truth about how he felt; the uncertainty must come to an end.

meanwhile, oblivious to the plan laurie was hatching, you basked in the soft sunlight while reading a romance novel you’d bought from town with all the money you’d saved up recently. it was a delightful read, though you were nearing the end already, having only started reading it a day or so ago.

“you pierce my soul. i am half agony, half hope,” you read aloud, feeling your heart pound in your chest, wondering what those words would sound like coming from laurie’s lips.

theodore laurence had a hold of your heart from the day you’d met, and thus far, he had not relinquished his grip for a moment. you were a little too shy to admit your fondness for the boy, but would accept in a heartbeat if he were to confess he felt the same way first. it was a difficult predicament, for the dread came in knowing there was a chance you would never know if you did not ask.

“‘would you, in short, have renewed the engagement then?’ — ‘would i!’ was all her answer; but the accent was decisive enough,’” you continued to read, feeling the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you the confession upon the pages unravelled.

“‘good god!’ he cried. ‘you would!’”

so enraptured in your novel, you hadn’t noticed laurie creeping up on you from your garden gate, smiling gently as he watched and listened to you read another novel from your extensive collection.

“what are you reading this time?” asked laurie when he was close enough.

“oh! laurie, you startled me,” you laughed, clutching your chest.

“i apologise, fair maiden,” he bowed in jest. “is it shakespeare’s sonnets again?” he asked, nodding to the book in your hand.

“not this time, the author is a woman from england,” you replied, elated with the knowledge it was a woman’s words you were devouring page by page.

“is it a novel?”

“yes, a romance novel,” you sighed happily. “it is fast becoming one of my favourites. oh, laurie, it’s utterly splendid!”

laurie sat beside you in the grass, fiddling with the green blades beside his feet. he listened to you talk fondly of this new novel you had fallen in love with, talking endlessly of some anne elliot and a captain wentworth.

“what is it?” you asked suddenly, feeling very self conscious of the intense stare from laurie’s eyes and his boundless silence.

“i’m in love with you,” he whispered without hesitation through a smile, almost in disbelief that the words had left his lips so boldly.

“what?” you scoffed, for such a declaration was not easily comprehended in the circumstances in which he had revealed it to you.

“all the while i have known you, i have been in love with you,” replied laurie, feeding off the courage he had unwittingly found. “i do not care that you talk too much, nor that you stay up too late reading by the dwindling candle light. i love that your hair is unkempt and that as soon as someone pays you a compliment you become bashful. i could not think of someone better to love. truly, i could love no one else but you.”

it was as if you were in a romance novel of your own, and the protagonist’s love interest was finally admitting his feelings in the last chapter of the book, letting its readers breathe a sigh of relief alongside their protagonist who had been waiting just as long to hear the words finally spoken.

“have i upset you?” asked laurie when you did not respond.

“no!” you cried. “you have only surprised me,” you laughed. “do you truly mean it, laurie!?”

“of course i mean it, dear y/n,” came his gentle response, which elicited a bright grin stretching across your lips as you tossed your novel to the ground, throwing yourself against laurie.

“i have been in love with you all this time too,” you revealed, hovering over his lips and revelling in the sensation of his arms snaking around your waist and over your back.

laurie could not speak, only match your joyous smile as he let the words you had spoken sink into his heart, down to the very bottom where he endeavoured to hold them forever.

he wetted his lips, lifting his chin up cautiously, to which you matched his actions before pressing your lips to his delicately—a chaste first kiss that neither of you wished would end. but you had all the time in the world for the number to grow and grow beyond count.

requested by anonymous.

🏷 @sw34terw34ther @imabee-oralizard @mad-elia @velvetcloxds @natashxromanovf @ell0ra-br3kk3r @uwiuwi @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @krishavania @innerloverpainter @locke-writes

[stray-kaz]

Sugar & Spice : a Theodore Laurence x reader FF : one

The door to Jo’s attic room rattled with a quiet but insistent knock just as you were finishing tying the violet ribbon at the end of your plait.

“Are you almost ready, honey? Laurie is waiting to escort you girls to the dance.”

You turned with a swish of lavender skirts to open the door, Marmie waiting on the other side. You smiled at the woman who had taken you in when your father was stolen by war, your mother long gone, struck by illness. She had accepted you as her fifth daughter.

“Yes, Marmie, I am ready. Has Laurie been waiting long?”

The young man in question appeared at the foot of the stairs, his hands clasped behind his back. He arched one dark eyebrow and one corner of his mouth twitched.

“Never too long for you, my love” he said smoothly, and winked.

You rolled your eyes, but felt your face heat in spite of yourself. Marmie touched your hand and leaned forward to murmur into your ear.

“He is a clever, kind boy, and I like him well enough, but he has a mischievous streak a mile wide. Be careful.”

You nodded and squeezed her hand.

“I will be.”

You lifted your skirts an inch off the floor to make your way down the stairs to where Laurie stood at attention. He reached out for you hand, gripping it delicately at the second knuckles, his fingertips brushing your glove. He raised it to his lips and kissed the white fabric. You stuck your tongue out at him, your back to Marmie at the top of the staircase.

“I saw that” Jo announced, eyeing you with a wicked grin. “How unladylike of you, sister.”

You dropped into a mock curtsey.

“You’re one to talk, Josephine” you retorted, grinning at her. “Ready?”

“Never. Come on then.”

Even though Laurie knew it was against propriety, he couldn’t help sliding his hand against the curve of your waist as he moved past to open the door to the carriage, your shoulder brushing his arm. You didn’t dare meet his eye in that instant, his closeness to you sending heat crackling over your arms, bare due to the late summer night air.

He handed you up first, your hand lingering in his for too long, your gaze locked on his. Eyes the colour of a wild sea stared back at you. After what seemed entirely too long and impossibly too short, Jo coughed and broke the spell.

“Help me up, would you, Teddy?”

Laurie nodded quickly and kept her steady as she stepped up into the carriage. He leapt up after them and swung the door closed. Marmie backlit by the blazing golden lights in her home was the last thing he saw before the carriage jolted away down the lane, swaying gently with the horses.

Jo left you alone the minute you arrived, sending you a knowing glance as she wended her path through the densely packed room, no doubt heading for the farthest away quiet room to sequester in until the noise was over.

It was both the best and the worst thing she could have done for you. No other young men came near to offer you a dance, as Theodore Laurence was hovering so near you. His arms were folded across his chest, but his eyes were fixed on the side of your face and you were striving to ignore him, your heart beating in your ears.

At last, you glanced sidelong at him, your mouth skewed into a half scowl.

“You know, Mister Laurence, that you are scaring off any potential suitors from asking for a dance. You are turning me into the worst kind of wallflower: an unwilling one.”

Laurie took a step closer and lowered his head just enough for his mouth to rest right by your ear. He watched as you shivered and your eyes fluttered closed for a split second before widening, dark pupils expanding beyond your control.

“Do you mind, really?” he said softly. “Do you want their attention? Or simply mine? You know that ribbon in your hair is my favourite colour. Hmm?”

You self consciously started to play with the end of your plait, tracing the soft lines of the ribbon with your fingertips. Before you could open your mouth to deny this knowledge, Laurie shook his head.

“You know it, just as I know sunflowers are your favourite. You cannot keep passing us off as just friends, and you know it. We are not just friends, my love.”

He spoke with conviction, but his eyes were still full of uncertainty as he looked at you. You sighed and reached up to touch his hair, your palm skimming the outline of his ear; he pressed into your touch, his eyes warm.

“Laurie...” you said quietly. “I have never felt so much depth of feeling for one person in my life up to now, but...”

You trailed away and he stared down at you, still side on to him, and waited. You didn’t carry on.

“But what?” he prodded, needy and impatient.

You sighed again and shook your head.

“I have nothing” you told him, your own gaze pleading with him to understand you. “I have no money, no property, nothing to my name. It’s all gone.”

Laurie threw his hands up and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, wanting to shake you and kiss you at the same time.

“You know that money is not an issue. You know it does not matter to me that you do not own property. I am yours. With all I have, I am yours.”

You stared up at him, aware that your mouth was slightly open, your mind shocked.

“With all my heart, I am yours” you whispered, barely able to get the shaky words out. “I love you, Theodore Laurence.”

He shook his head at you, coming round to stand right in front of you, forcing you to tip your head back slightly to meet his eyes.

“Call me Laurie” he said, and kissed you.

The music ebbed away, the dancers faded into pastel shadows, and all you knew was the feel of Laurie’s lips on yours and the sudden heat in the room making your head spin. His hands cupped your cheeks, fine, long fingers disappearing into your hair and pulling strands free. Then one hand left your face and meandered down past your shoulders until it reached the violet ribbon. Fingers tugged insistently until it slid loose and he pocketed it, one end poking out slightly from the edge of his trouser pocket.

The room and its dancers slowly came back into focus as Laurie pulled back, his eyes gleaming and a smile unravelling across his face as he looked at you.

“You look beautiful tonight, my love” he told you, biting his lip. “Especially now.”

You didn’t even glance at the room to see if anyone was looking before you yanked him back, an amused chuckle escaping his lips before they were pressed to yours once again.

A/N: Please comment and let me know what you think of this first installment!

[roxygen22]

My inbox is open again! Help me add to my masterlist

[munsonsmixtapes]

If We Have Each Other

Theodore "Laurie" Laurence x fem!reader

cw: mention of death and grief, hurt/no comfort

This idea is brought to you by the lovely @lillypad910 who suggested that I write this while we were watching Little Women (2019) together!

The clouds above looked particularly gray as you stood by the casket, your eyes brimming with tears. You almost felt as if you had been hallucinating because of how unreal everything had felt. And maybe that was just because of your lack of sleep. When was the last time you had gotten a full night’s worth? You looked around at the sea of black, looking for the familiar face of the friend you had grown to love. You spotted Amy immediately and she made a beeline for you. 

She took your hands and you could see that her eyes were also misty, that light that filled them no longer there. What had happened was so horrible and you were almost refusing to accept that it was actually real. That had made you feel better despite how unhealthy it had been to do so.

You avoided Amy’s eye contact, knowing that if you saw her cry, you would as well. But he was quick to hand you her handkerchief, but watching your hands shake as you reached for it, she took it upon herself to help. She lifted your veil ever so slightly as she dabbed at your cheeks. This was the worst she had ever seen you and hated that it had to be this way. She knew that losing a husband wasn’t the same as losing a sister, but she knew that they were very similar on the pain scale. 

“Come here,” she urged and you threw yourself into her arms, burying your face into her shoulder as sobs raked through you. Her hands moved up and down your back as she whispered to you, reminding you that you were allowed to cry as much as you wanted. Because in her eyes, it didn’t matter that you didn’t love Jaques romantically. He was still your husband and the closest thing you had ever had to a lover. 

You looked over her shoulder to see Fred standing a few feet away, giving the two of you some space, but you waved him over. The three of you had gotten so close since you had moved to Paris and he had been so good to Jaques. You liked him for Amy and were looking forward to them finally tying the knot. And you were just glad that she had finally moved on from-

“If there’s anything I can do please let me know,” She said once you had pulled away, looping her arm through Fred’s. Amy had already done so much to help you through your hard time and you felt like you couldn’t possibly ask her to do anything else. Well, the only other thing you would have asked her to do was talk to- 

“You’ve already done so much,” you told her, pulling her in for a tight hug. “I mean, you helped me arrange this whole thing.” She had taken it upon herself to help you with your ever growing list when you couldn’t even get yourself to get out of bed. She had helped you change and everything since you had refused help from the people who had worked in the house. 

“And it was the least I could do considering the circumstances.” You felt a tear run down your cheek and she was quick to wipe it away with the pad of her thumb. It was as if it was all settling in. Finally. Yes, you had cried in your bed for days, but being there…at the funeral…it was like a punch to the gut. 

“I just wish-“ you cut yourself, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from speaking. You couldn’t even utter his name because of how upset you were. Amy’s eyes widened as she stared back at you. She had known that the two of you had a small falling out, but that was years ago. You had been inseparable your whole lives and now you weren’t speaking? Something clearly had been wrong. 

“So he doesn’t-“ She paused, not wanting to finish her thought. She didn’t need to. You knew what she was getting at and she could tell that you didn’t want to speak about it. And she didn’t feel like it was the right time to ask anyway considering the circumstances. 

“No,” you shook your head. “He doesn’t. And he won’t as long as I have anything to say about it.” 

“Y/n,” she gave you a pointed look. “We’re talking about-”

Before- Age Sixteen

“Laurie!” You called up the stairs and he appeared at the banister, looking down at you with his signature boyish smile. 

“You called?” He asked as he slid down the railing of the staircase and you rolled your eyes. He was always doing things without another thought and you were always afraid of him getting hurt. He was just too impulsive for his own good, rushing to do things that he hadn’t thought heavily about and you thought that one of those days, it would come back and bite him. And you kind of hoped it would because then maybe he would use his brain for more than a nanosecond. 

“I’ve been waiting for you for twenty minutes,” you told him, crossing your arms over your chest and tapping your foot against the hardwood floor. 

Mr. Brooke was going to be there any second and you wanted to be ready, writing some poetry to keep your mind occupied. You quickly hurried into the room and pulled your book over to sit on the desk in front of you and flipped it open to the page you had bookmarked. 

“Time got away from me,” he replied as he shut the door. “And he’s not even here yet,” he said and sat in the chair next to yours. He scooted it closer so that the arm of it was right against yours. He always wanted to be close to you. So close that you were touching, loving to feel your warm skin against his. It didn’t matter the body part, but he favored your hands, loving that there was always a marking from your pencil that had always rubbed off on him and the callouses from where you held your pencil or quill. 

Laurie was always the first person you wanted to read your poetry. You’d race down the hall no matter the hour and burst into his room with that adorable smile on your face. You’d stand in front of his bed and read it out to him as he’d look at you like you had hung the moon. 

And he would listen intently, soaking up every single word, always there to applaud you once you were done or give some constructive criticism where you needed it. He would try to convince you to make a career out of it, maybe selling some of your work, but you always shut him down. You told him that you didn’t have time to do such a thing even though you had nothing but. Because if you were being honest, you just wanted to keep it all to yourself. It was all personal, very self-reflective and you weren’t sure you wanted to share that kind of information with strangers. 

You felt Laurie rest his chin on your shoulder as he read along with you, something that the two of you often did together. He would sometimes make you read to him as he enjoyed the stories and also just loved hearing your voice. It comforted him and made him feel at ease as he often fell asleep before you had even finished the chapter. 

“When’s Mr. Brooke supposed to be here?” He asked as he reached up to turn the page before letting his hand rest on top of yours. Your skin was suddenly buzzing as you were very aware of it. It was soft and warm and you hated how much you felt like you were going to swoon just from his touch. 

“Any minute now,” you replied, trying to focus on the words on the page, but how could you when he was touching you like that? 

You felt a little pathetic for being in love with someone who didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but it was hard not to. Laurie was so sweet and caring and really the only person who truly knew you. And he had cared for you so much as had his grandfather since he had been your primary caretaker. 

Together, they had given you more than you could have ever asked for, treating you like one of their own. Even though he hadn’t been around much, Mr. Laurence had still been like a father figure to you. Anytime he had traveled, he had always brought you back the same thing, a journal for your poetry.

“For your excellent words,” he’d say, holding the thing out to you. And you’d take it gratefully every time, accompanied by a tight hug before racing up to your room to write the thought that had been in your head all morning. 

“What are you thinking about?” Laurie asked, turning to look at the concentrated look on your face. He could just tell that you weren’t actually reading, but in your head about something. 

“Nothing,” You waved him off and he squeezed your hand, making your thoughts even more painful. You couldn’t possibly tell him the truth, not now, not ever. It was much too painful to think about what could have been and what wouldn’t happen because there was absolutely no way that he could have felt the same…right? 

“Could it be about this?” He asked, slipping your poem out from underneath the book. A look of horror flashed across your face but you hid it well, trying to conceal the fact that your world could have possibly crashed down as soon as he read the words. There was no way you could recover as soon as he saw what-or who-it was about. 

“A suitor perhaps?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief just like always. He was unknowingly being so cruel, teasing you about your crush on him. But at the same time, you wondered how he couldn’t have seen it, how it wasn’t so obvious. You knew how you looked at him and he had either been more stupid than you thought or was just simply ignoring it. And you didn’t know which one was worse.

“There’s no suitor,” you told him as you reached for the paper, but he still held it out of your grasp, reading directly from the page and you had never wished to disappear more than in that moment. 

“No suitor?” He asked with a dramatic gasp. “Then who has the green eyes?” 

You, you wanted to tell him. It’s you, Laurie and I cannot stand another moment without knowing if you feel the same. That was what you would have told him if you had even a sliver of the confidence he had. That was the only instance where you had been envious of him. 

You tried to reach for the page again, but he had raced out of the room in the blink of an eye. You could hear his laughter echoing down the hall and you felt your stomach ache thinking about him laughing at your poem, telling you how silly it was for you to have a crush on him and that he most certainly did not feel the same way. It was your worst nightmare. That very thing had woken you up more times than you could count which was one of the main reasons why you had been so quiet about the whole thing. 

As soon as you stepped out into the hall, you could see him at the end by the stairs, reading it aloud as soon as he saw you. You tried to stop him, but it was too late. It was as if your nightmare had come to life and you were covering your ears to stop it. You could see his lips moving, but nothing was coming out. Good. Because maybe if you hadn’t heard it, it wasn’t actually happening. You shut your eyes tight to act as if you weren’t there.

But then you felt his hand, moving it away from your ear while his own rested on your cheek, the other holding your poem. They were cool against your warm cheeks, but you still refused to look at him. You couldn’t. 

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, but you wouldn’t listen, shutting them even tighter and your heart leapt as his laughter rang throughout the hallway. “Please look at me.” Now he was pleading and you couldn’t help but obey, slowly opening your eyes to see him smiling at you. A wide grin spread across his cheeks. 

“There she is,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Is this about me?” He asked, holding up the page as his eyes searched yours as if the answer had been there instead of on your lips. 

You refused to answer. Even though there was no malicious intent behind those eyes, you couldn’t get yourself to tell him the truth, that you had been in love with the boy your whole life just hoping that he felt the same. You watched him chase after multiple girls over the years while he only saw you as a friend and that broke you. But seeing the look on his face, you were beginning to think that maybe, just maybe you were wrong. 

“So what if it is?” You whispered, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about what he had to say, but god, did you. You cared more about that than anything else, just wanting to get it all over with. 

“Then I would-I would ask if I could kiss you.” Your eyes widened at his words, your mouth agape. You never thought he’d ever utter those words so you had to hold onto him just to prove to yourself that you weren’t dreaming. 

You watched him leaning closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies as he shuffled closer, the two of you coming toe to toe. Your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth was so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face. His other hand rested against your back which you were grateful for as your legs felt like jelly, weakening by the second. 

But then the front door opened and Mr. Brooke stepped inside, causing the two of you to jump away from each other. Laurie turned to greet the tutor, knowing he needed to be polite and when he turned back to you, you were gone, the door to the study slamming shut in the distance. 

After

Laurie’s heart beat rapidly in his chest as he knocked on the door in front of him. He wasn’t normally nervous about things, but he had to admit that he felt like he was going to throw up. He never just showed up at someone’s home unannounced, but this was the only circumstance that he thought it was okay. 

Once about a minute passed, he turned to leave only for the door to be ripped open. He whipped around to see a little boy, certainly no older than three and a woman who was rushing after him. He figured he must have had the wrong house. Maybe Fred had written the address down incorrectly.

“William Theodore,” she scolded and his stomach fell as his ears picked up on the middle name and the bright green eyes staring back at him. Certainly he couldn’t have been-no. It just wasn’t possible…right? 

The woman scooped the boy into her arms and as soon as Laurie got a glimpse of her face, it all clicked in his brain. God, you were stunning. You were a woman now and he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from you. His gaze caught the ring on your marriage finger and he honestly thought he was going to be sick. 

He had been at the wedding, but the whole thing had been fuzzy as he had thrown back glasses of wine as if they were water. And he honestly only really remembered what Meg had said to him as she had pulled him aside. Those words swirled around in his head more often than he would have liked and he hated that he had been so selfish as to ruin what was supposed to be the best day of your life.

It could have been you that voice whispered in his ear and he didn’t even want to think about it. For once, he was going to think about someone who wasn’t himself. He was trying to be there for you, to help you through your hard time. He kind of wished that he had heard the news from you, though and not Amy. 

But he didn’t think he should have been allowed to choose that as he had been the one to destroy your friendship. He had let you slip through his fingers and he was the one who was upset? He didn’t think he had the right to be. The only person he should have been upset with was himself. 

He had been blaming you the whole time because he didn’t want to accept that he was the one at fault. He was never good at accepting responsibility and this was no exception. Even when you had called him out on it, he was still in denial, throwing insults your way, not even looking you in the eyes because he couldn’t stand to see you cry. 

As soon as you caught sight of him, a lump formed in your throat. The years had been kind to him as he looked like he hadn’t aged a day. The only difference was that he looked a little taller and tired. His hair was a mess and the obvious bags under his eyes signified that he hadn’t gotten much sleep. 

You set the boy onto his feet and crouched down to his height, whispering something to him before he ran off, leaving you alone with the boy-or you supposed man-who had once been your everything, your world. And now you didn’t know a damn thing about him. Apparently he didn’t want you to know considering the fact that he had never gotten your letters and his own seemed to come to a complete stop. 

“I’m so sorry about Jaques,” he apologized, his hands moving to rest behind his back. The sorrow on his face showed you that he meant it and not just saying it because he felt like he had to like everyone else. “Oh,” he said before reaching into the inside of his coat before retrieving an envelope with your name scrawled on top of it. 

You hesitantly took it, feeling what was inside and handed it back. You didn’t need his pity. Between the loss of your parents and husband, you had had enough of that to last a lifetime and you didn’t think you could possibly take anymore, especially not from Theodore Laurence.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity, y/n,” he shook his head. “I just figured that you could use it.”

“You really think you can just show up on my doorstep after years of not speaking to me and expect me to forgive you because you gave me some money.” You were really angry now, a fire in your eyes that he never expected to be on the receiving end of. You looked like you could have exploded any second and if he had had any sense, he would have left you alone.

“It’s not-”

“Then what is it, Laurie?” You spit, your voice getting louder as you waved your hands around. “Why are you here?” He thought it was obvious, but he knew that wasn’t what you were meaning. You were really asking him why he was there right then. 

“I wanted to be here for you.” His voice was now small and you almost felt bad for him. Almost. But the man didn’t need you to feel sorry for him as he had already done that himself. Throwing himself a pity party the only way Laurie knew how. 

“Amy already has that covered since you didn’t seem to want to stay in contact with me considering you never responded to my letters.” The words were filled with venom and Laurie didn’t think that was very fair. How was he supposed to read your letters when they had been sent to his home address? 

“I was in London,” he responded as he furrowed his eyebrows. He thought you had known that and had been upset with him for some reason. He really missed seeing the envelopes with your return address on them, his name in the pretty, loopy letters. 

“That would have been nice to know. You’ve been acting so strange since-” Now you were getting upset, the years of bottled up anger towards him exploding right before his eyes. And he was going to stand there and take it, not wanting to be a coward anymore. 

“You’re the one who’s been acting strange, y/n,” he pointed at you, his voice getting a little loud for your liking. “You left me with no warning. Just fled to Paris without a single word with your new husband.” The way he said “husband” like it was a curse word boiled your blood. He had no right to be jealous and you refused to feel pity for him. 

“Laurie…” you tried to think of how you could tell him the truth without completely revealing everything. You could imagine Jaques standing right beside, giving your hand a squeeze, telling you that it was okay. “It was-” you paused. “I married him so he could be with his lover without raising suspicion.”

“His lover? What are you talking about?” He was utterly dumbfounded. Since when had Jaques had a lover that wasn’t you? That man had looked at you, well-the way you looked at Laurie. How was it possible that he didn’t love you? You were the most amazing person he had ever met and now you had someone else, mourning him in fact. And Laurie was there to do what, exactly? To tell you that he loved you too? That he had finally decided that you were worth his time? He was afraid that ship had already sailed.

“Before Jaques passed away…he and William were in a romantic relationship.” The way you had said the words caused him to assume that he should have already known that fact. And maybe he should have, but he supposed it was too late now. He just stared at you, completely blindsided by the information, blinking multiple times to let it really sink in. 

“So you weren’t-and he’s not-” he pointed to the room where Liam had been and you just shook your head, feeling a lump forming in your throat as you thought about that night. 

“No,” you shook your head, afraid to look him in the eye, but he stepped forward, taking your hands in his. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked and just from his tone, the question sounded pained, his voice so soft that you almost didn’t hear him. No, you weren’t going to feel bad for him. He had brought all of that upon himself.

“Because it’s none of your business.” He clearly didn’t like what you had to say because he was so close now that you could feel his breath on your face. If you had just leaned in- No. You had to physically restrain yourself from reaching out to him. 

You wanted him to hold you, to pull you in for a kiss. Despite your anger towards him, you always found yourself melting at the sight of him. He could just simply say “I’m sorry,” and there you were, throwing yourself into his arms with a tight hug, everything completely forgiven. But not this time. You were stronger now, suddenly feeling nothing for the man in front of you. At this point, you didn’t even recognize him because he was not the boy you had grown up with. Whoever that person was had been long gone. 

“None of my business?” He asked, his voice full of offense. “He has my eyes!” And that was the most painful part of it all, looking in your son’s eyes and seeing the color of the irises you wanted to stare into forever. It was almost like a cruel joke that had been played on you that Liam had the eyes of his father, the man who you had been in love with. A constant reminder of him and the fall out between the two of you. That he wasn’t the one who you had married and built a life with.

“And your name. I at least gave you that even though you don’t deserve it.” And Laurie didn’t think he deserved it. From the way he treated you, he didn’t think he deserved anything. Especially not from you. He was honestly surprised you had even let him in and that just showed how much better you were than him. 

Because if the roles had been reversed, Laurie would have slammed the door in your face, not even wanting to look you in the eye. He was a coward to his core and he knew it. If you were the one begging for forgiveness, he would have just run in the opposite direction because he didn’t want to hear what you had to say. Because in his head, he was always right, but now, standing in front of you, he was finally admitting to himself that he was wrong. Admitting to you that he was wrong. 

“Now I think it’s best if you go,” you told him as you heard Liam begin to cry. “You’ve already overstayed your welcome.” Out of all the horrible things you had said to him over the years, that might have been the worst of all. You had always begged him to stay the night in your room when you couldn’t sleep, always asking him to stay with you at the parties you had accompanied him to…and now you were asking him to go. Permanently. You might as well have just stabbed him in the chest as it would have hurt a lot less. 

Without a word, Laurie headed towards the door, actually feeling the bile burn his throat this time. His eyes were brimming with tears as he turned back one last time as he opened the door, watching you gather his son in your arms as his cries stopped instantly. He always knew you would have been a good mother and seeing you with Liam, it was confirmed. 

So he was off without another word, feeling like his heart had just been ripped out and he supposed it was just what he had deserved as he had made you feel the same more times than he could count. Perhaps Meg had been right in telling him that he had missed his chance. Perhaps he should have just given up altogether since you had finally given up on him. 

Before- Age Fifteen

“I promise I’m okay, Theo,” you assured the boy who kneeled at your bedside. Laurie’s hands were holding yours and he was looking at you softly. It was just a cold, but he insisted on staying by your side until you had gotten better. 

“Believe me, I want you to go more than anyone else, but the doctor said you have to stay in bed.” He removed one of his hands from yours and reached up to wipe some sweat away from your warm forehead. It made his heart ache seeing you like that, but he could tell that you were closer to getting better. In the morning, he was certain that you would be good as new.

“So I had that beautiful dress made for nothing?” You averted your gaze to the dress that was hanging in your wardrobe. It was an extravagant blue thing that Mr. Laurence had insisted on spending a little extra on just to make you happy. And it was just going to sit there and collect dust.

“There will be plenty more parties,” he reminded you as his hand slid down your cheek. Why did he have to be so sweet? It just made it that much easier to fall in love with him. 

“But who will you dance with?” You asked, trying your best to sit up, but your arms were too weak. 

“Easy,” he said as he stood, lifting you with ease to help you sit up. “And I won’t dance with anyone,” he shook his head. “I’ll just sulk in the corner.” You didn’t like hearing that. You wanted him to have fun even if it was without you. Even if it hurt your feelings more than you would have ever admitted. 

“No, you shouldn’t do that,” you assured him as you reached for his hands again, wanting to feel his warmth. “Dance with whoever you like. I promise I don’t mind.” But you did mind. You didn’t want him to dance with anyone else, feeling nothing but jealousy coursing through you just thinking about it. 

“But they won’t be as good as you.” You just laughed at that and it was music to Laurie’s ears. He always loved hearing it, especially in times like those when you weren’t feeling your best. He loved being the little light in your darkness. 

“Theo, we both know I’m a terrible dancer. You don’t have to lie.” 

“Oh, I’d never lie,” he replied, bringing your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to them. “I’ll be home early to read to you.” He finally stood as Mr. Laurence informed him that the carriage was ready for him. “I promise.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and he was off. 

Laurie had been right in thinking that the party was dull without you. Many women had wanted to talk to him, wanted to dance, even, but he had turned them all down, taking sips of wine when no one was looking then hurried off behind one of the curtains that had concealed a room. He had made himself at home, hoping that no one would bother him, realizing that you were the one who had even made those social events bearable. 

All he wanted to do was go straight home and pull you to his chest as he hummed the songs from the party that he promised he would remember for you. That was always one of your favorite parts and Laurie had refused to let you miss it just because you weren’t there. 

Just as he was considering sneaking out before anyone could catch him, someone had backed into the room, causing him to stand up as they bumped into the chair where he had been sitting.  The stranger turned around and he had been taken aback by her beauty. 

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized, putting her hand up. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

“Not at all,” Laurie replied, taking her in. He had recognized her as one of the March girls, but had no idea which one she was as there were four of them. “S-stay if you like.” 

“I won’t disturb you?” She asked and he could see that she was feeling unsure. He wanted to have company and she seemed nice enough. He just wanted to stop thinking about you for once. Even when you weren’t around, you had invaded the boy’s thoughts, always worrying about you or wondering what you were up to.

“No. I didn’t know anyone here. I felt rather strange.” He felt strange because you weren’t there. You weren’t there to dance with him and he hated that he was forced to be alone. But he thought that perhaps he wasn’t lonely now thanks to the March girl.

“So do I.”

“Miss March, isn’t it?” He asked, finally looking her in the eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Laurence,” she replied as she put her hand out for him to shake and he took it. “But I am only Jo.” Jo. He thought the name suited her despite not actually knowing her. She seemed so different from the girls he had met, so unapologetically herself. She reminded him of you and he decided that he had to have the two of you meet.

“And I’m not Mr. Laurence,” he said as he shook her hand with a smile. “I am only Laurie.” 

“Where’s the girl?” she asked and the boy felt his cheeks blush, realizing how obvious he seemed about his pouting. 

“Girl?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to figure out who she could have been referring to. His brain seemed to empty as soon as she had stepped into the room. 

“The one I always see through the window in your house when I pass by it.” She was talking about you. Of course! What other girl could she have possibly been talking about?

“Oh.” His face lit up at the mere mention of you. He loved talking about you any chance he got. “That’s my friend, y/n. She was supposed to be here, but she’s sick.” Jo watched the way his face changed when he talked about you, admiring the way his eyes lit up. 

“That’s a shame,” she shook her head. “I would have loved to meet her.” Even though she had only just met the boy, she decided that any friend of Laurie’s must be a friend of hers. And she wanted to know what you had been writing as she always saw you scribbling something down on a piece of paper when she looked through your bedroom window. 

“I’ll have to introduce you,” he said with a smile and Jo felt the urge to pinch his cheeks in a teasing manner. 

“You like her,” she smiled and Laurie just shook his head with a chuckle to hide how shy he was becoming. 

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He knew it, but had no idea about how obvious he had been about the whole thing. Did that mean that you knew? He hoped not. He wasn’t sure that you felt the same way and there was no way he was telling you as much just to ruin your friendship. He couldn’t have stood to lose you. You were the most important person in his life. The one thing that made it even worth living.

“You like her,” Jo repeated, her eyes lighting up. She thought it was cute seeing him blush when talking about you and hoped that you knew how much love he had for you.

“I do not,” he waved her off. “Should we dance?” He asked, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible. He wasn’t going to talk to a stranger about his complicated feelings for you. That was something that he kept to himself, only letting the words tumble out in whispers as his head hit the pillow every night. Maybe eventually he would give you the letters he had written to you when he couldn’t sleep.

-

You had been watching the window since Laurie had left, just hoping that he would have come back even though you knew it was selfish. You wanted him to have a good time, but you couldn’t stand thinking about him spending time with anyone but you. You were just jealous and hated that you were feeling that way. He was allowed to have friends that weren’t you. Hell, he was even allowed to court another woman if he wished as the two of you were not together. You just wanted to be. But you would have never admitted that, taking that secret to your grave as it was far too embarrassing to admit.

The familiar carriage rolled through the snow, but instead of turning towards your house, you watched it move towards the one that was across the street. You remembered that the March family had lived there. Lovely girls from what you had seen and you hoped to befriend them someday. Even though meeting new people terrified you. You should have had a lot of friends considering your status, but you liked to keep your circle small as Laurie was your only actual friend. And that was the way you liked it, the boy being more than enough for you. But perhaps now it was time to open your circle.

You stood there, watching two of the sisters exit the carriage holding onto each other as one of them was hobbling as they headed towards the door. Laurie was not far behind them and the three of them quickly disappeared into the house and you didn’t know why your heart was aching. 

You stayed like that for a while, refusing to move from the window until Laurie fled the house. And you were quick to get back into your bed, closing your eyes as you heard his footsteps on the stairs. Your door creaked loudly as it opened and closed, Laurie wincing at how loud it was. 

He kneeled by your bed and was quick to bring the back of his hand to your forehead, letting out a sigh of relief as he felt that it wasn’t warm anymore. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw that boyish grin appear on his face as his eyes locked on yours. His hand moved to the top of your head, stroking your hair as he looked down at you, wondering how someone could look so beautiful after being so sick. 

“Hello, sleepyhead,” he greeted in a whisper and your smile mimicked his, not able to keep it off your face. 

“Hello,” you replied as you scooted over, patting the spot where you had been previously. Laurie removed his shoes then got under the covers with you, pulling you to his chest like he always did. “Did you have a good time?” 

“I did,” he nodded. “But not as much as I would have if you had been there.” And that was true. As much fun as he had with his new friend, he still couldn’t stop thinking about you and how you were doing. But that was just what was always on Laurie’s mind: you. 

“Right,” you laughed. “We both know I’m just a bore.” 

“Not true,” he argued, pulling you closer. “You never bore me,” he said before climbing out of the bed, holding his hand out to you. “Now dance with me, y/n. Before I forget the song I remembered for you.” 

You hesitantly took his hand and he helped you from the bed, letting you hold him since your legs felt a bit like jello,  but that only meant that he could be closer to you. This wasn’t the usual kind of dance you participated in, though. Laurie had you lay your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around each other as he began to sway back and forth as he hummed the song to the best of his ability. 

You believed that this was the moment that you truly fell in love with the boy. Because how many people would have memorized a song from a party then come home and sing it to you while he danced with you? And you could tell that he was tired so it meant even more to you that he was insisting on creating a special moment for you. 

You stayed like that for a while, being wrapped up each other’s arms, swaying next to the fire place to keep warm and then once you decided to go to sleep, Laurie just curled up in your bed with you, pulling you into his arms, whispering that you were his best friend before pressing a kiss to your forehead and falling asleep.

After

The door was ajar when Laurie got to it. He peeked inside and there she was, looking as beautiful as ever as she cleaned off her paint brushes. He hadn’t seen Amy in so long and the years had been kind to her. She looked like a woman now, so much older than the little girl she had always seemed to be in his mind. 

He crept through the door with his bags on his shoulders, completely unaware of how one of them had hit the table, causing Amy to whip around at the noise. A gasp escaped her mouth as she took in who it was. She hadn’t been expecting him at all, and if she was being honest, she had only sent the letter to him for your sake. She hadn’t wanted to see him after what he had done to you. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, turning back around to finish drying off her brushes. Her question wasn’t so much accusatory as it was genuine and Laurie was very confused by it. Hadn’t she asked him to come? 

“You asked me to come in your letter.”

“Oh, so you still get those?” Her tone was nothing but bitter and Laurie hated seeing this side of her. 

“You’re mad,” he said as he pursed his lips, knowing that he couldn’t use his smile or flirty tone to get out of this one. 

“Oh, mad doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Amy replied, throwing her brushes down onto the counter before turning to fully face the boy, well, now man. “I’m furious.”

“Furious,” Laurie couldn’t help but laugh a bit at seeing his little Amy so upset, even though it was no laughing matter. He couldn’t practically see the smoke coming out of her ears and was trying his hardest to remain serious.

“This isn’t funny, Laurie. I have stood by and watched you string along that poor girl and I won’t do it anymore.” He furrowed his eyebrows, not liking what she had been implying. He didn’t think that what he had been doing with you would have been considering stringing along. It seemed like a harsh description even though he was aware that it wasn’t particularly right.

“String along?” He barked out another laugh and Amy was growing very frustrated, realizing that even though he had grown older, the boyish behavior was very much still there.

“Be serious!” Amy tossed her brushes onto the table in front of her and turned around to face Laurie, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You know what you’re doing and the thing is, you don’t even care. You spent years pining for Jo and when she rejected your proposal, you just ran back to y/n because you were lonely and desperate for attention.”

“But-”

“And guess what, Laurie? You don’t deserve her. She’s too good for you and I’m tired of watching you hurt her so that ends now. I only asked you here because she wouldn’t. And even though she won’t admit it, she wants your support. She wants you to be here for her through her tough time and you’re going to do it with a smile on your face. Because for once, it’s not about you.” 

Laurie let his bags fall to his feet as her words sank in. He didn’t appreciate what she was saying even though he knew that she was right. All his life, no one had quite called him out like that. And perhaps that was because he was such an important person in society and they didn’t want to upset him. And maybe it hurt even more because Amy knew him. She saw him for exactly what he was and wasn’t afraid to call him out when necessary. 

“Okay, maybe I don’t deserve her and yes, maybe she’s too good for me, but that’s not why I’m here. And who said anything about it being about me?” 

“Nobody did,” she shook her head. “I just-I-don’t understand why you always go after what you can’t have.” The truth was that Laurie just liked the thrill of the chase and because of his status, it was abnormal for women to not want him, so when Jo had rejected his proposal, he was utterly confused. Because he thought that she had loved him in the way that he loved her, but clearly he had been wrong. 

But you loved him in the way that he wanted Jo. So he went to you for a shoulder to cry on and things escalated very quickly and before he knew it, you were both naked in your bed. He hadn’t regretted that night, no. That night had been nothing but special to him, but he hated the way he went about it. How he had only been there for comfort and nothing else. He hadn’t meant to sleep with you, but seeing you there, looking so beautiful, he just couldn’t help himself. 

After that night, things were different for the better, but he still felt himself holding you out at arms length just like always. Because as much as you had loved him, he was afraid to let you in, afraid to start something romantic with you because he was scared of losing you. Scared that everything that you had together would slip through his fingers and he would have been left with nothing. 

But that was where he was at that moment. All his friends had sided with you, and rightfully so. He should have been lucky that at least the March sisters were there for him, even though all they had done since your friendship had ended was tell him how badly he had screwed up. 

He didn’t need them to tell him that, though. He had been the first to see it and no one had been as mean to him about it as he had to himself. Because deep down, Laurie was his own worst enemy. 

“You know what, maybe I should just go.”

“Maybe you should. Because we were all much happier when you were in London.” The words stunned Laurie into silence. He couldn’t believe that you had something like that, and worse, that you had meant it.

“I’m gonna go see Fred.” He just needed to get away from the hostility and surround himself with someone who always took his side. 

“He’s in the study. And do not ask him about y/n,” she pointed at him with a warning, and as afraid of Amy Laurie was, he was still going to ask Fred. He was sure that the man would give him answers that Amy wouldn’t. 

Laurie fled the studio and hurried towards the house, hauling his bag along with him. He was muttering under his breath as he walked, wondering how the hell he had gotten himself into such a fucking mess. 

If he hadn’t behaved like such an idiot then maybe you would have married Jacques instead of him. If he had stopped chasing after Jo when she made it clear that she didn’t want him, if he had been home to answer your letters, then maybe everything would have panned out the way he wanted them to. 

Laurie got into the house and the housemaid took his bag up to the guest room while he made a beeline for the study. He knocks on the door and it opens not long after, his face lighting up to match Fred’s but it quickly fell when Fred’s did, the man’s eyes narrowing into slits as he went to slam the door in Laurie’s face, but he quickly pushed his hand against it, pushing it open as he stepped inside.

“What do you want, Theodore?” Fred asked, his voice dripping with venom. Jesus, Fred too? Just how badly did Laurie fuck up? He knew, but he was afraid to actually ask.

“I wanted to see my old friend,” Laurie tried with a smile as his hand moved up to pat Fred’s shoulder. 

“We’re not friends, Laurie,” Fred tells him and now Laurie’s heart breaks even more, now officially in half as he realized that he didn’t have anyone anymore. And to add insult to injury, it was all his fault. He fucked everything up and now he supposes he deserves it all even though he’ll try to convince himself that he doesn’t just to make himself better. 

“You lost the privilege to call me that when you toyed with y/n’s emotions. You weren’t here, Laurie,” Fred said as he turned to face his desk then turned back, pointing at the man standing in front of him. “But you know what? I wish you were because then you would have seen just how evil and vile you really are. You hurt that girl, Laurie. Broke her down so much that she lost a part of herself, a part that you now have and I hope you know just how lowly we all think of you now. Now I suggest you leave right now before she sees you because that would be really selfish of you to do so. Well, you’re going to do it anyway because that’s exactly what you are. And I guess, if the shoe fits, wear it, right?” He asked then turned back to his desk, only turning back once he had heard the door close as Laurie fled. 

Laurie felt a sob rake through him as he hurried out of the house, completely abandoning his things as he ran to his carriage, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. He couldn’t stand being there when he was unwanted. He couldn’t believe that all of his friends were turning against him because of you. They didn’t even know the full story and were siding with you when he had known them first. God, everything was just so fucked up.  He cried in the carriage all the way to the destination and barely remembers uttering and he only stopped the tears when the carriage stopped at a house. Your house. He feels like nothing but a fool as he stumbles out into the snow, slowly moving towards your front door and hoped that his red, tears stained face will just look like a product of the cold weather as he raises a shaky hand to knock on the door.

[loverangels]

LAURIE LAURENCE

the way things go (angst/fluff)

(to be completed)

[feyofmay]

Girls are Never Civil

Laurie x March!Reader x Jo (platonic) Summary: When a Laurie & Jo are walking home, they spot Jo's younger sister on the ground (reader/Ducky). Jo attempts to help her sister, but it does not go as planned. word count: 2.5k Warnings: Fluffffffffff, all platonic, laurie gets kicked in the no no square, reader gets called "Ducky"

This story is a snippet from my longer Laurie x reader romance story, so please let me know if you want more!! its already at 20k wordsssss :)

STORY STARTS UNDER THE PAGE BREAK

This is part of a larger story I'm writing called "What Women are For", which is Laurie x Reader (romantic). Let me know if you're interested in reading it!

Tightly curled up into a knot, in the middle of the dirt road, a trembling wad of buttercup yellow fabric shakes and wails into the torn flesh of her fist. Sympathising with the lump of stains, tears, and snot, the trees hang still in a moment of tender silence. The middle March sister has stopped trying to breathe through her sobs, as the dust from the path had raced up her nose and left a shocking pain. It’s as if someone shoved stinging nettle straight up her nostrils and pushed until the tip of the branch tickled her brain. 

A hot red bite mark appears as if it’d been welted to the plush skin of her hand. She swears she’s bitten straight to the bone. Still, the tears continue to cascade down her blubbery cheeks as they slip their way into the wound. Overwhelmed with pulsing, hot pain, she can’t tell if the injury, itself, or the salt from her tears biting at her raw flesh hurts more. Everything hurts so much. All she wants is for Marmee to pick her up and cradle her like she had when the girl was younger. She wants Marmee to kiss away her tears and promise her everything would be alright. She wants to be home, where Meg would wipe at her wounds with a damp rag while Amy buries her face into Beth’s stomach and cries her own, fat tears. Even when she isn’t the one who got hurt, Amy still always ends up crying. However, the middle March didn’t mind Amy’s theatrics, as it meant that Jo would end up teasing the younger March rather than her. Still, she’d never admit that, or any of this. She’d be far too embarrassed. If anyone knew that she felt this way, she’d surely have to run away from home forever. Wherever could she go, anyways? She’d go West to California. No, she’d had to leave the country and go to Europe. Maybe then she could build her life up from scratch and escape the teasing of her sisters. 

Caught up in her own puddle of pity, the middle sister doesn’t catch the familiar sound of clumsy, crashing boots hitting the dirt path. Not far down the road and following the setting sun, a grey tattered wool skirt chases the wind as a high collared, perfectly off white shirt stumbles after her. Their laughter sings in perfect harmony with each other, and, around them, the world pauses to smile and watch as their youth passes them by. Each leaf and blade of grass gleams warmly, knowing that they will feed this memory to the flora of next summer. Unsuspecting and attempting to hide within the folds of her baby fat, she doesn’t hear as the footsteps come to a halt. The sound of their panting breaths fills their own ears. For a moment, all they can do is stare at the small conglomeration of dirt and snot. Swiftly, that moment ends as one of them stomps up to her.

“Ducky, what on Earth are you doing?” she spits out with more venom than intended, but such is the voice of a teen girl. The older sister’s hand shoots out and pinches Ducky’s dust-covered forearm. However, the young girl doesn’t squeal as her eyes shoot up to confirm her worst fears. The dirt on her face has mixed with her tears, leaving a thin film of mud on her cheeks. Her face is still stuffed with her baby fat and clinging onto her childhood as she enters her first few years of teenagedom. Immediately after locking eyes with her older sister, Ducky starts to thrash and shake like a force beyond nature. Her fists swing wildly and her legs rise and fall like the waves of the tsunami. Dirt kicks up around them and peels back their human disguise. It reveals what the two truly are. They are girls. They are hurricanes and the screaming wind at night. They are motion and sound and all that will forever remain restless. Girls will never be civil. They will never shed their empathy to trade it for boots and proper manners. Instead, they will spend their days fighting in the dirt and letting the dust mix with their sweat. The dust will turn to mud and clay, and, when the sun sets, they will freeze into statues, preserving their childhood forever.

“Let go, Jo-” Ducky shrieks as she kicks everywhere but where her sister is planted. Still, Jo is stronger than her sister, and her grip is determined. Ducky’s plump fingers wrap around Jo’s wrist as she continues to flail like a blouse in a tornado. 

“What is wrong with you?” Jo yells back even louder, joining her sister in her insanity. After all, what are sisters for, if not to join each other in their melodrama? Rushing to her aid, a boy, about Jo’s age, presses his palms to the younger girl’s shoulders and allows his weight to give him the upperhand. Ducky, seeing Jo’s companion, lets out a deafening scream as her eyes shoot up to Jo.

“-No! No! No! Just let me die here! I’d rather die!” Ducky spits out, as she clings onto her sister’s arm. Now, instead of screaming curses about her name, her fingers plead Jo to not let go. Her eyes, the size of teacups at this point, dart between the two. She’s too stubborn to hold her sister's gaze, but she’s too scared to look into the boy’s, who she’s spent the last half year avoiding like he’s death incarnate. 

When he first introduced himself to the March’s, after the ball where Meg had sprained her ankle, it was then she started feeling something fester and skitter around in her stomach. An adolescent boy was in her house. He was in her house, and he was talking to his sisters. She didn’t speak a word, and she never intended to ever find herself within a mile of him. Every time he would make his way over to their home, Ducky would race over to tumble behind the nearest wall or piece of convenient furniture. Amy and Beth would laugh and tease her for her ridiculous behavior, but they didn’t understand. How could they? Amy and Beth were still kids, but she, Ducky, was a teen girl. Amy and Beth could never understand.

“No can do. So sorry to dissapoint,” Jo’s friend replies through shallow gasps of air, and, for the first time, Ducky gets a good look at his face. His hair is the same color as when the first calls of morning brush against the forest’s skin, and slivers of his eyes twinkle amber in the last caresses of the day’s gentle touch. When she meets his eyes, his gaze is real but not stern. Without speaking, she can see the boy who’s only truly grown in the ways that allow him to wear a man’s clothes. With hunched shoulders and a tight jaw, what stares back at her isn’t the lumbering shadow she’s stitched onto his frame. All that’s there is a teen boy, who’s not all that different from her. 

And, as the dust settles, and all three of them catch their breaths, the youngest of them is able to think again. It’s then, she realizes, a boy, a teen boy, is touching her. Once again, she tenses up and acts before her next breath. To say exactly what happened next is impossible. However, in the blink of an eye, Ducky’s knee raises, his grip loosens, and suddenly he’s curled up into himself and clutching between his legs. 

“Are you insa - Oh lord, Teddy are you okay?” Jo stumbles through her words as she rushes over to her friend’s side. Ducky inches away from the two of them. Her breaths are shaky and ragged, and the inside of her throat is torn from heaving in dust. She’s not exactly sure she’s even breathing. 

“He grabbed me! What else was I to do?” Ducky shouts over Jo while a new stream of steady tears bubble down her cheeks. All she can hear is the rush of her heart as her skin tightens and squeezes her aching bones. Does Jo care more about Teddy then her? Will Jo hate her forever for this? She can’t lose Jo to a boy. It would be too devastating.

“Because you were kicking and squealing like a rabid pig,” Jo reminds her as Teddy starts to sit himself up and brush off the dirt that cakes his linen pants. The dirt has turned his pristinely off-white shirt a patchy shade of taupe, and pieces of hair cling to the sweat that stains his forehead. 

“I’m sorry! Please don’t be mad at me,” the younger sister begs, pulling her knees to her chest. Only then does Jo notice the clean rip across her sister’s dress, and her knees, which may have once been red, are painted a festering purple and green. Jo shuffles on her knees over to her sister. Reaching out to touch Ducky’s wound, her hand is quickly swatted away.

“Don’t touch me-”

“What happened?” Jo asks with a biting tongue that’s nearly indistinguishable from Marmee’s stern tone, who they both knew would be anything but pleased if she saw this scene play out in front of her. 

“- I won’t tell you!” Ducky exclaims, her fingers digging into the fabric of what once was a yellow dress. Now, the dress better resembles a scrap of hazy beige fabric with twisting red stains. 

“If I say, he’ll make fun of me! I’ll be a big joke to the both of you,” Ducky continues rambling on before Jo can reply. The older sister scoffs before she can even think of a smart response. 

“Stop being stupid.”

“I’m not! He’ll laugh at me and then you’ll join in too. I’ll die before I tell either of you.”

“I promise I won’t laugh if you tell us what happened,” Teddy speaks up, stopping the glaring contest between the two March sisters. Rather, he ends up with both of the sisters’ wrath upon him as they try to burn holes through him with their gazes alone. However, after his words settle in a new silence, the younger of the two March’s expression softens like butter left in the sun.

“...Will you pinky promise?” she inquisitively replies, not an ounce of humor in her voice. Still curled into a shaking dust ball, Ducky’s shoulders fall as her skin relents and lets her body relax again. 

“Yes, I will,” He replies with the same sincerity as he crawls over, pinky extended. Still shaking, Ducky sticks out her pinky. The blood on her finger has congealed, leaving a deep maroon and brown crust on it that highlights the creases and wear of her fingers. Without hesitation, Teddy curls his pinky around her own, and she stares down as some of her blood coagulates and mixes with the muck that coats his hand. The teen boy’s gaze stops slightly higher, as he finally is granted permission to commit the middle March’s features to memory. Her cheeks are practically about to burst with youth and baby bat. An enteral rosy flush of girlhood stains her skin, and her eyes walk a fine line of being doe-like and bug-like. Her features are an odd amalgamation of the child she’s been and the lady she’s becoming. Suddenly, a fit of giggles bubbles up from her chest, and she looks up at Teddy while their fingers stay intertwined. 

“I thought I saw a fairy, and so I chased it. and then I tripped and fell and ripped Meg’s dress and the pain was so bad I bit my hand and I skinned my knees and I think some of my chin,” Ducky admits with a twitching, uneven smile stretched across her face. One of Teddy’s eyebrows raise in an incredulous surprise, presenting a smile that’s symmetrical to the younger girl’s. He slowly turns his head back to meet Jo’s gazes, whose eyes are glued to her sister’s. Slowly, like a pot of water coming to a simmer, all three of them dissolve into a fit of giggles. Their voices bubble and pop into the summer air as they shake the dust off their clothes with their heaving shoulders and shaking heads. None of them know exactly what the joke is, but none of them can fight through the never ending stream of laughter to ask. For what feels like seconds and days, the three lay on the road twisting and writhing in laughter until the sun finds rest in a valley far from the three’s line of sight. 

Once the three finish collecting the remnants of themselves and picking up their aching bodies from the road, Jo hoists Ducky onto her back and kisses her bloody hand. A small streak of the dusty maroon liquid stains her lips, but the older sister doesn’t try to wipe it off. Ducky’s cheek is pressed to hers as they walk at a leisurely pace. All either can hear is the steady rate of their perfectly similar breaths. A silent “I love you” is shared in each inhale, and, through each exhale, boths’ feelings are validated and fully realized. Teddy matches their pace as they walk through the beginning of the young night’s song. Stretching out her hand, Ducky lightly brushes the creased fabric of his sleeve in a poor attempt to tap his shoulder. The young girl doesnt look over to him but, rather, rests her chin on her sister’s shoulder.

“I’m Y/N, but Jo n’ everyone calls me ‘Ducky’,” the young girl introduces herself as if he hasn’t been Jo’s friend for several passing seasons, “I hate it, but you can call me it, if you want to.” Although she has found the courage to speak to the young boy, she hasn’t found it in herself to look him in the eyes. Perhaps one day she’ll find her bravery hiding in the trenches of her gut, but today is not that day. Teddy smiles through a sigh as he looks over at her. Half of her dress is so torn it almost drags against the ground, and the rest of her is hidden under the protective folds of Jo’s gray skirt. 

“I’m Laurence, but Jo calls me ‘Teddy’ and everyone else calls me ‘Laurie’,” The young boy plays along in introducing himself. For a split second, he catches her eyes darting over to catch his gaze, but the second is quick.

“Okay, Laurie,” she replies simply, ending the conversation as soon as it had started. For the rest of the trek home, the three walk in silence, and the world doesn’t speak either as it watches over the three make their way home. 

Please like & repost & comment !! Also let me know if you're interested in reading the whole Laurie x reader fanfic !! It goes back & forth between past & present, similar to 2019 movie adaption.

[slut4slytherinss]

CAMILLE’S PLAYLIST

NOW PLAYING: Everywhere, Everything - Noah Kahan, with Gracie Abrams

- Camille - she/they -

(most are WIPs currently, but I plan on finishing them very soon!)

HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE

Lightning Era -

Gold Rush , m.r. — pt. 2

Ivy , t.n. WIP

Out of My League , r.w. WIP

This feeling , m.r.

Maruaders Era -

Mine , j.p. WIP

GRISHAVERSE

Six of Crows -

Exile , m.h. WIP

Hoax , k.b. WIP

Shadow and Bone -

none yet

King of Scars -

none yet

DAISY JONES & THE SIX

none yet

THE LOVE HYPOTHESIS

none yet

THE HUNGER GAMES

Everdeen Era -

none yet

Snow Era -

none for right now

LITTLE WOMEN

Mary’s Song , t.l. WIP

TWISTED SERIES

None yet!

KING OF SIN

None yet!

[altyx]

Hi anyone reading this!! I need help finding a James Potter x Reader fic 😭😭. It was a Little Women Au, it was so well written, I just wanted to reread it!! For a little context of the fic, it was reader as Amy, Lily as Jo and James as Laurie. It was also based on the scene when Laurie lets the cat out the bag to Jo about Amy and him getting married. If someone finds it can they please tag me, that would mean a lot 🙏🙏🤍!!