౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

prison isn’t going to keep me from you… ₊˚⊹ᰔ

andy dufresne , my sweetie pie apple dumpling. love of my life who has never done anything wrong in his entire life and is the sexiest , tallest , most handsome , smartest , book-loving , adoring , graceful , kindest , bravest sweetheart ever 🍨

THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION | my au with andrew d. ♡

read part one : here

read part two : here

read part three : here

because my story is primarily (xreader), none of the physical desc. listed below is canon. i’ve just decided to provide a written background and biography of the main love interest that i imagine in my (3/?) part story : the shawshank redemption.

y/n y/l/n. | aka my oc, francis ann chisolm (dufresne)

she stood no taller than five-foot-three, with green eyes and soft fawn curls that framed her face in gentle waves. fresh out of college, she had little idea as to what awaited her once accepting her position at maine national bank.

she certainly did not expect to fall madly in the love with the institution’s vice president, let alone ever cross his path. yet, that fateful day spent learning about investment portfolios, trust accounts, and municipal bonds in andrew’s office on the fourteenth floor bound the two of you together for the rest of your lives. a thread neither time nor tragedy would ever touch or sever.

andy had loved his wife. truly.

their marriage had not fallen apart overnight. it had happened quietly, through long evenings at the bank, missed dinners, broken promises, empty conversation, spoken disappointment… the slow realization that two individuals could share a home while leading entirely separate lives.

he never blamed her for the lack of time they spent together, or how their once-beautiful marriage had disintegrated into absolutely nothing over time. he blamed himself more than anyone. and that… was what made meeting you especially frightening.

he hadn’t gone looking to start an affair, he was not out searching for an entirely new woman to fall in love with… and yet, he couldn’t help himself from becoming irrevocably infatuated with you. beginning to live each day in a state of constant adoration… a feeling he had never once been so familiar with.

the reserved banker who rarely smiled… feeling younger than he had in years simply because you existed. and that was the hardest part of all.

being his little secret was something neither of you wanted as the months went on. the deeper your love became, the stronger the realization became for each of you that you would not be able to carry on without something changing.

the two of you sat in his plymouth sedan, radio barely humming as the car grumbled. you were parked outside of your apartment building, basking in silence. you and andy had already decided on ending your affair.

andy wanted to marry you. to divorce linda. to be truthful about the lying and the cheating. “i need to do this properly, fran… i won’t be a prisoner of my own life anymore.” he whispered.

the man loved you with every fiber of his being. and he hated himself for it. you waltzed into his life at a time in which his marriage had become very lonely, when he felt he had no one. then there you were… and that was a feeling he wouldn’t allow to pass him by. for anyone.

that night he drove home alone. light rain showers sprinkled the windshield as he rehearsed exactly what he was going to say to his wife. he considered every line in the book… and when fear and anxiety crept into his throat he tried wiping it all away. only seeing the end result in his mind.

the house was empty when he arrived. nothing but a handwritten letter placed conveniently next to his bottle of bourbon. it was evidently more empty from how he had left it.

andy’s leather briefcase slipped from his hands, falling to the floor with a dull thud against the hardwood floor. he stared at the envelope for a long moment. andy. it was addressed.

every line seemed to blur into the next. she was leaving. she had been seeing another man for months. she didn’t love him anymore. she was sorry. the words were plain. almost as if eleven years of marriage could be folded neatly onto a single sheet of stationery.

he read it twice. then another time. not because he didn’t understand it. but because he couldn’t quite believe it. his fingers wrapped around the bottle firmly before his mind became flooded with thoughts of you. the way you smiled over coffee with him that morning, the way you cried when he expressed his plans to someday marry you…

his eyes trailed toward the desk which held his revolver wrapped in silk cloth. he had contemplated suicide more times than he’d like to admit. but with you at the forefront of his heart, he knew he’d never be able to go through with it. nonetheless, he grabbed the gun and headed out in a drunken daze.

you had come from a humble family. you didn’t have many dreams… just two, to be a mother and to be a bride. you had never met anyone who swept you off your feet in the way that andy dufresne had. not in the literal sense, which of course, he did when he could. but in the way of truly connecting with another human being. one that filled your soul and one who satisfied your aching heart.

you were grateful for your knack of numbers. as without your wits surely you would not have ended up at the national bank of portland, maine.

to everyone else, he was andrew dufresne. the young and polished vice president with an immaculate sense in suits and perfect manners. but to you, he was the man who stayed long after hours to aid elderly widows in balancing their checkbooks, the man who remembered every janitor’s birthday… the man who spent all his free time admiring you from afar until he simply couldn’t take it anymore.

it wasn’t some grand declaration, no… it was a typical friday afternoon. he had looked up from a hefty stack of loan applications to find you laughing with one of the older customers in the lobby. the man left, tipping his hat smiling. andy caught himself smiling too. he realized he hadn’t been paying the slightest attention to the work in front of him for nearly fifteen minutes. he enjoyed you… far more than anything else in the man’s wide but ever-so intimate world.

THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION | 1994 ₊𖥔

my melancholy baby…

₊𖥔 in which andy dufresne is locked up in shawshank penitentiary for a minimum of two life-sentences… all the while he is bׄalancing life and love with his sweet darling who refuses to give up on hope…. ໑୧ ׅ𖥔. ׄ(xreader) pov!

part three | wc : 4.850 | unedited at this time

read part two : here ♡

read part one : here ♡

**red’s narration : “a man can spend enough time in a place like shawshank, and eventually he starts to forget what normal life looks like… you forget the sound of a woman laughing in your kitchen. you forget the feeling of a hand reaching for yours. you forget that somewhere outside those walls, life is still moving forward… but andy dufresne had a funny way of reminding people.”

the men sat around the cafeteria table, all eyes fixed on andy while he ate in silence. there was nothing but a small smile fixed on his face as he stabbed at his vegetables. “you know, andy…” heywood began. “i never figured you for a family man…” he cocked his head with a smirk.

red answered, “neither did he…”

andy stared off into the distance, clearly lost in thought. he was contemplating a whole lot of things in his mind. if you had gotten home carefully, the baby’s name, how you would be in the hospital without him there… “i never thought i had the chance” he eventually muttered.

**red’s narration : “he said it plain as day, but there was something in his voice i’d never heard before. hope. not the kind a man borrows for tomorrow. the kind that makes him believe there’s still a life waiting somewhere beyond those walls.”

as smart as he was, he knew that now more inmates had found out… people would most likely begin piecing things together. but that was fine… because he was tired of being afraid.

𝜗ৎ

it wasn’t long after lunch that floyd had run outside to track down andy and red for help.

“it’s brooks…” was all that needed to be said. the three took off in a panic, trailing down halls and corridors until eventually they reached the library. the sight they arrived on wasn’t pretty.

a few inmates had been opposite brooks, desperately pleading with him to calm himself… more importantly, to put down the knife that was carefully pressed against heywood’s neck.

andy’s eyes grew wide as he and red entered the room in a frenzy. “hey, brooks! we can talk about this right?” red stepped forward as the man snapped at the others to stay away from him.

“there’s nothing to talk about, it’s all said and done.. i’m gonna slit his fuckin’ throat” his tone was rushed, proving that if he didn’t go through with his plan right then and there— the opportunity would never come again.

“wait a minute, what’s he done to you?!” red had been doing his very best to reason with him. “i got.. i got no choice” the man began to cry.

andy took a few steps forward, now standing beside red. “brooks you’re not gonna hurt him… we all know that, even heywood knows that.. right heywood?” to which the frightened blonde began to nod hesitantly. “i know.. i know that, sir…”

“you know why you’re not gonna hurt him? because he’s a friend of yours and brooks hatlen is a reasonable man!” andy spoke with conviction.

“that’s right! that’s right, isn’t it guys?” red spun around eagerly. it was admirable for him to watch the way andy was able to derail the situation. confusion still loomed over everyone’s head. it was unfathomable how brooks could end up in a situation such as this one.

“so put the knife down… put the knife down, brooks” andy pleaded. “look at his neck, brooks. look at his neck for Gods sake… he’s bleeding” he pointed towards a spot on heywood’s skin… crimson red blood beneath the tip of the blade.

brooks held heywood against his chest tighter, but his expression now became riddled with sorrow. “it’s— it’s the only way they’d let me stay…” he cried out, tears falling from his delicate eyes as most of the faces in the room began to soften. andy’s voice had eventually quieted down to a whisper, continuing to beg the man to rethink this very big decision.

with that, the knife slipped from brooks’ hands before they covered his own weeping face. andy enveloped the man in his arms without a second thought, he figured it was something you would have urged him to do in that moment. “take it easy… you alright?” he hushed.

“what about me? crazy old fool damn near cut my throat!” heywood rubbed his neck.

“enough out of you, what’dya do to set him off anyway?” red snapped back at the man. heywood now had raised his arms in defense. “nothing! i came to wish him fairly well… didn’t you hear? his parole’s come through…”

𝜗ৎ

the morning andy’s letter arrived, you had been surveying different placements for a stuffed teddy bear in the baby’s nursery. the house was eerily quiet, sun shining through the window as it did when andy was still sound under your roof.

at first, you were thrilled. you usually were when that dreadful address from shawshank prison arrived on an envelope straight to your door. your fingertips lightly padded across the ink.

inmate andrew dufresne. 37927. cell block E. 238.

what remained inside you were not prepared for. in fine detail andy gave you the rundown as to what had happened with brooks, and how very soon he would be sent out into the world all alone.

it frightened you. a man of that age, so accustomed to prison and the regiments that came with it… everyone was unsure as to how the man would survive after being there so long.

the night before brooks had been released, he sat within the darkness of the library. just thinking. jake hadn’t made a sound the whole night. almost as if he knew the next morning he would be separated from his best friend and set free. free.

**red’s narration : “brooks hatlen had been at shawshank longer than most of us had been alive. he knew every corner of that place. but even brooks had never seen a man hold onto hope the way andy did.”

“i think you’re going to be just fine, brooks. you have too much to offer this world. you know that, don’t you?” andy spoke in the softness of the night, brooks had been staring at the floor in a daze. “you don’t know what it’s like for a man like me, andy…”

and the truth was, he didn’t. he found it inhumane that shawshank could even consider throwing an inmate out onto the street after years of being institutionalized. yet, no one who worked in the penitentiary really had a care for the well-being of those who ended up in prison, or for this matter… out of it. the men were just another number to them. just as andy was.

𝜗ৎ

**red’s narration : “every sixty days, andy became a different man. the prison disappeared for thirty minutes. the walls didn’t exist. the bars didn’t matter.

“for those thirty minutes, andy dufresne wasn’t an inmate. he was somebody’s husband. somebody’s father.”

andy was usually one of three places. the library, outside walking, or tucked away in his cell. at least, that’s where red found him that afternoon while his thumbs smoothed across the wings of a little wooden dove he had been carving.

“that’s real pretty” red remarked, leaning against the steel beams of the doorway. andy faintly smiled— not even looking up. “i think she’ll like it… reminds me of brooks”

andy’s eyes drifted towards the clock hanging at the end of the cell block. again. red caught it immediately. there wasn’t much that he missed.

“you know,” he started with a grin. “starin’ at it won’t make it move any faster” red teased. to which andy let out the most quiet laugh. “i wasn’t staring…” he sighed in defense.

“you’re always staring when you know she’s comin’…” and that of course, was the truth.

**red’s narration : “funny thing about routine. most men in shawshank dreaded it. andy lived by it.

every first tuesday of every other month, he’d shave a little closer, straighten out his collar, and spend half the morning pretending he wasn’t watching the clock.

didn’t fool me none…”

𝜗ৎ

you carried yourself in with excitement that seemed to just pour out of you. you were due any day now, february of 1955. you had otto’s number pinned to your fridge, as he was always on stand-by these days… awaiting the moment you were bound to go into labor. he was all you had on the outside. him and brooksie.

“morning, dear” margaret greeted you. that same look of pity always present in the woman’s eyes upon seeing you. “look at you… how wonderful! congratulations” she smiled. those who cared to know never dared to ask questions.

“thank you very much…” you had already begun signing next to andy’s printed name. “i’d like to ask you before i head in… brooks… brooks hatlen… he was discharged not long ago and i’d like to know where he was sent”

you reached for your notepad that had been buried somewhere within your little pocketbook.

margaret offered you a sad smile. “the halfway house in portland… i’ll find the address for you, honey” she turned to search through the files.

when you arrived at the visitation room, andy had already been waiting for you. his head was turned down as he brushed a hand across the front of his shirt, smoothing it out.

looking clean and put together for you was a habit that never seemed to die. andy vividly remembered the moments leading up to each time he would take you out. checking himself over in the mirror, going through his array of ties, and polishing his shoes right down to the minute he was out the door. he missed it. but he vowed he would never stop trying.

“dufresne…” norton cleared his throat as he entered not far behind you. the man startled you, as you had been lost in thought simply admiring andy as he sat across the room. you could’ve stayed like that forever.

suddenly, the warden’s eyes trailed down to your protruding blouse. “hmph… y/n… always a pleasure. i— well i suppose congratulations are in order” the stern man bowed his head a bit. of course, nothing he ever did impressed you.

“thank you, warden.”

“hello there, angel face” there was a beaming smile on andy’s face as he was now standing in front of you. he met you in the middle of the room, immediately reaching for your hands. he always reached for them first. “there’s my boy… finally”

andy nearly teared up from just the sight of you. each time, the baby had grown bigger and bigger… and as much as it killed him to be absent, he was overcome with love and pure adoration for the miracle the two of you had created. his heart pounded intensely, “you’re due in in two weeks”

you smiled. “i can’t believe it, andy… i really can’t…” you shuffled your ballet flats across the floor as he escorted you to your table. “here, baby… sit down… nice and easy…” he made sure to give you the seat facing the window.

“now… tell me what the doctor said this week…”

andy asked a handful of the same questions each and every time he saw you. “how’s your appetite? any kicking this week? are you getting enough rest?” he wanted to know everything. from the moment you woke up until your head hit the pillow each night. you always gave him every little detail. no matter how minute.

“we don’t know the gender… i’m waiting til’ her birthday but… here i go again… her…” you blushed. “i have a feeling, andy… i’ve been reading quite a lot”

this, he loved to hear. “as have i, dear… i finished fatherhood in an afternoon” he grinned.

the man rested two hands over your belly, smiling like a little boy. “she’s gained a healthy amount of weight… and her heartbeat has become much louder under the doctor’s stethoscope” you smiled. “she said the baby’s turned around… head down already”

simply hinting at the big day quickened your heart rate and made your toes tap with excitement. “wow, honey…wow” andy beamed, smiling ear to ear. “is your bag packed?”

“mhm” you would nod. “otto is driving you?” “mhm” “and margaret knows where to reach me if anything changes… right?” he rattled each question off as fast he could think of them.

“yes, darling… she knows how to reach you in here presumably even better than i know how…” you smiled. he rubbed your hand lovingly. “i’m so very proud of you… i hope you know”

“i do. i can feel it every day”

𝜗ৎ

“what was her heartbeat like?” andy rested his chin on the palm of his hand. everyone knew you had both gone over your respected time limit. although, nobody wanted to separate you.

“fast…” to which he answered, “how fast?”

andy was a sponge for knowledge. especially as something as precious as his child. he wanted to know everything. “oh…like a little hummingbird”

the blonde closed his eyes, a smile painted on his face as he became lost in thought imagining.

“it won’t be long before she’s finally here…”

his smile faltered just barely. enough for you to notice. “i’ll miss it…” he spoke softly. and you immediately reached for his hand. “you’ll miss the delivery… but you’ll never miss being her father”

he squeezed your fingers. eyes shut tight as to hold back any tears. he had done an immense amount of crying since he met you. he knew it was because no one had ever made him feel as deeply as you have before… not in his entire life.

“i made something for you… and when the baby is born… it will become hers…” he dug in the pocket of his dungarees for the wooden dove. he held it carefully in his hands, extending it out to you as you had already grasped his arm in delight.

“andy…”

he smiled, knowing he did good.

“it’s absolutely beautiful…” you took it from him gently, smoothing your fingertips over the carved edges. right in the same spots he had been rubbing for days. you admired his work with tears in your eyes, planting a soft kiss on the top of the bird’s head. “that’s you… my little dove” you looked up at him.

“thank you, darling…” you pressed it to your chest. holding it warmly as the love he had poured into making it seemed to pierce right into your heart. “i know just where i’ll put him…”

“so you’ve deemed it a boy, hm?” he cracked a smile. “it’s you… andy” you assured him. “and soon, you’re going to break free… just like brooks… and just like jake” you smiled.

he thought carefully about your words. perhaps you knew him better than you ever imagined.

the small but progressing tunnel behind his marilyn monroe poster proved just that. he decided against revealing his plan to you just yet, but soon, he declared. very soon…

“i brought you something…”

“a book?” he peered into your lap with curiosity. you shook your head, unfolding a neatly pressed handkerchief. inside… a perfectly preserved autumn maple leaf. its edges burned crimson and gold. andy stared at it. “you remember…”

“i always remember” you smiled. the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “the first time we walked through baxter woods…” he began, the memory playing in his mind like a movie.

“you picked one up… and you said…”

“every tree lets go eventually” andy finished for you, eyes glued to the delicate maple leaf in his hand. “and then you said something much prettier…” he smiled bashfully.

“the tree only lets go… because it trusts spring will come again”

“that’s it…” andy shook his head with yearning. he missed those moments with you. silence followed, long and comfortable. he took the leaf between his fingertips as though it were made of glass. “i will cherish it forever”

whether he meant the leaf… or the memory… you weren’t sure. perhaps both. “hope… it’s a funny thing” andy spoke quietly. “why’s that?” you questioned. “it teaches you to believe in something you can’t really see… until you walk through that door… you bring me a rock… you bring me a leaf…” he spoke every word with love.

“you… you are my reminder that the world is still turning out there…” and to andy, that meant everything.

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ౨ৎ

THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION | 1994 ₊𖥔

i’ll be lovin’ you… always.

₊𖥔 in which andy dufresne is locked up in shawshank penitentiary for a minimum of two life-sentences… all the while he is bׄalancing life and love with his sweet darling who refuses to give up on hope…. ໑୧ ׅ𖥔. ׄ(xreader) pov!

part two | wc : 4.700 |

read part one : here ♡

read part three : here ♡

soft rain pattered against the window pane of your quiet little house. you watched it lovingly, corn muffins baking in the oven that filled your home with a delightful aroma.

four months had passed since your emotional, once-in-years lapse born out of an overwhelming love and longing between you and andy in that library. the child inside of you had been steadily growing by the grace of God. you hummed quietly as you set a hand on your tummy. “guess who’s seeing daddy today…” you smiled.

glancing out the window again, one of your fondest memories came floating to the surface of your mind. 1946, two years before the balloon went up.

𝜗ৎ

it had become something of a ritual. every friday morning, andy would stop by the little bakery two blocks away from the bank before work. not because he particularly cared for pastries— as he always claimed they were ‘far too sweet.’— but because he knew you’d be arriving five minutes later for your breakfast and morning coffee.

he was always first. always.

he leaned against the brick wall with content. his newspaper tucked underneath his arm and a hot cup of coffee being kept warm solely from the man and his wonderful fingertips.

the moment he caught wind of you walking down the sidewalk, that reserved smile of his would sweetly appear. the one that started in his eyes before it reached his lips.

“good morning, sunshine” he cooed with pleasure. melting into your kiss as you stood on your tip toes to reach him. even with heels, he always remained much taller than you.

“aren’t you a sight for sore eyes… here in our usual spot” you blushed. “we have many spots… don’t we darling?” he raised a hand to caress your cheek, subtly moving a strand of hair that had come loose from behind your ear. “although, you were two minutes late…” he grinned.

“more so thirty seconds late…” you squinted. to which the man let out a sweet sounding laugh. the two of you could banter all day. it was one of your many favored hobbies. “i rounded up”

you rolled your eyes with a smile, taking the coffee cup from him joyfully. “seems like you’ve already had a taste…” you giggled, “thank you, andy” and with that you brought the cup to your lips. he watched you adoringly. “my pleasure”

by then the church bells down the street had begun to chime, signaling the start of work. you were so infatuated with the man you had hardly even realized he was holding a jam-filled eclair. “oh! this too… they were all out of corn muffins” andy quickly handed over the dessert, one that he had spent about fifteen minutes picking out and assessing before deciding it was the right one for you. “aww! baby, how sweet! no corn muffins… guess that’s why you’re empty handed— huh?” you teased with a smile.

he grinned ear to ear, amused in how well you truly knew him. “yeah… yeah… i’ll be alright”

the two of you walked down the sidewalk arm in arm. treading towards the beloved building of work and finance… andy, was the only thing that seemed to make it worthwhile anymore.

“here, have some” you giggled, offering him some of your fluffy eclair as you strayed farther and farther away from the bakery and off down the block. “it’s for you, sugar!” he would laugh.

𝜗ৎ

your eyes had been closed when you finally came back to earth. a long exhale had escaped as the memory wrapped you in it’s warmth like a cotton blanket. “someday… we’ll be happy again…” you whispered aloud. “i promise…” you cooed, coddling the unborn baby with a few gentle pats. “now, how about i tell you the story of your daddy and i sneaking off on valentine’s day during our lunch hour…” you giggled, crossing the kitchen floor to retrieve the muffins timely.

before heading out that morning, you spent an extra hour or two analyzing your belly in the bedroom mirror. eventually, deciding on the perfect navy blue wool coat to hide your bump. the later it got in your trimester— the harder it would be to hide your evidence. hell, you were a walking billboard of andy’s courage that evening.

𝜗ৎ

you opened your mouth slightly, ready to ask otto for an extra few minutes, as always. yet— you were cut off by the man’s caring gaze. “take all the time you need, miss…” and with that, a wink.

“thank you, my friend! oh— and i couldn’t forget… i’ve baked you a few corn muffins” you clapped with excitement, reaching in your basket to pick out four perfectly wrapped muffins for the man and his wife at home. “my, that’s a surprise!” he spun around with curiosity. mustache traveling upwards with his lip as he shot you a smile.

“i’ll take this form of payment from now on, dear” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth with delight, carefully taking the muffins and setting them in his center console. “thank you… you be careful now” the man shook a finger.

“will do! see ya in a bit!” you exclaimed happily, tapping the beautiful car before hurrying inside before the rain could melt you.

it had been coming down heavier as you ran across the parking lot. you ran as fast as your little feet could carry you before letting out a triumphant “woo!” upon entering. that familiar scent of floor polish, cigarette smoke, and damp wool coats greeted you accordingly before the reception clerk trailed her eyes toward you. a soft smile graced her features as she had already begun taking down your name and time of arrival.

tough and mean captain hadley had been pacing the floor before he noticed you. “dufresne’s girl… here again” he snickered to a nearby officer before the two fled down the hallway. you loved hearing your title put that way.

the clock on the wall had been ticking awfully loud, more pronounced than usual. beneath it sat a woman in a cardigan, cat-eye glasses balanced on her nose, typing steadily on a black underwood typewriter. her rotary telephone rested beside a thick leather-bound visitor ledger.

every few minutes a guard passed through carrying a ring of brass keys that jingled with every step. they never intimidated you.

“good morning, miss y/l/n… it’s a wet one today isn’t it?” she laughed softly. “how do you do, margaret. sure is… atleast you’re in here… nice and dry” you offered a friendly smile. “here for mr. dufresne, i presume?” she questioned, pencil in hand. out of habit, you pulled the coat tighter around your mid-section. “always”

you signed your name in her book, big voluptuous letters that had been listed dozens of times before. she picked up her telephone while you wrote, “visitation for inmate dufresne…”

inmate. the term made your skin crawl.

meanwhile, andy had been shelving books in the library when hadley passed by the doorway. “dufresne. your lady’s here” to suddenly vanish down the hall. the blonde immediately looked up, turning to brooks who had been smiling kindly. “go on…” andy snapped the book shut, “i’ll be back… i suppose i shouldn’t keep her waiting”

“no, son… i don’t think you could even if you tried” brooks laughed softly, turning his attention back to jake who had been murmuring in his cardigan.

𝜗ৎ

andy swiftly entered the room with anticipation. “there she is…” he cooed softly, in awe of how effortlessly beautiful you were. “here i am…” you answered, throwing yourself into his arms happily. his fingertips brushed across the wet coat you had now been wearing like a cloak. his gaze turned toward the rain beyond the window. “you came all the way out here in this weather?”

you squeezed his hands firmly, “rain or shine…”

raising yourself up on the balls of your heel you placed a long, soft kiss on the man’s lips. “i love you…” you rested your forehead against his lovingly. “i love you, doll… with all my heart”

the two of you could’ve stayed like that forever. but of course… you knew your time was limited. you began to ponder about margaret and how she got her job. “come sit… sit with me” he spoke. instead of sitting across from one another as you usually did, he pulled two of the wooden chairs up to face the window. side by side.

“and let’s get this wet coat off of you…” he started to peel the fabric carefully, setting the wool on the chair’s back to rest for awhile. “oh… wow…” andy sighed with adoration. his eyes very quickly became fixed on the evident bump beneath your loose-fitting maternity dress.

“sit down, honey… that’s it…” he helped you into the chair, causing a fit of giggles to escape you as he took the seat next to you. “you’re very sweet, andy. i’m alright. i’m only four months…”

it’s almost as if andy knew you would already be showing. you were grateful to him for setting up your chairs away from the rest of the room. it made you feel more private in your time alone with him. it also allowed him more time to spend with the baby.

he was lost in thought. just looking, with the proudest, most sincere, smile etched on his handsome face. suddenly, he brought a trembling hand to touch your tummy. he held it there for awhile, just watching.

“i’ve missed so much…”

it was then you grabbed his free hand with your own. “hey… look at me, hm?” he did. weariness in his eyes and a firm grasp on your fingers. “you are with us every single day… you are with me… every single day. in my mind… in my soul.. in my heart… everyday, andy…” you began tearing up yourself.

you were always such a crybaby when it came to andy and your forced separation. it killed the both of you alive… but you were strong enough to get through it. you both knew that.

he leaned in, kissing you softly, as it spoke much louder than any words could. the tears stained on both of your cheeks seemed to mix passionately as you were intoxicated by the rare skin-to-skin contact you both were occasionally granted.

𝜗ৎ

it didn’t take long before andy was knelt down beside your chair, clicking his tongue and cooing to your baby as he usually did during your visits. “hello in there… daddy loves you” he would hum.

he refused to let your baby only know him through stories. he wanted them to know their father’s voice. and they surely loved him already.

as andy spoke, the baby kicked against the delicate skin of your tummy. his hand already placed there, he looked up at you with stars in his eyes. “oh my….” he kissed you happily. if you hadn’t noticed, it was his favorite action in life. “they love your voice, darling… their father…” you smiled with joy. absolute pride swallowing over.

“i sure hope so…” andy smiled. “do you think they’ll be a boy… or a girl, honey?” he asked with wide eyes. you blushed, of course having thought of this almost constantly during the progress of your pregnancy. “well… whatever they’ll be… we’ll love em’ with every fiber of our being…. that being said… i think she’ll be a little girl… and i think her heart will belong to daddy” you hummed.

“a little girl…” he whispered. he rubbed the underside of your belly with a grin on his face.

“you are so strong, honey…” he faced his attention towards you once more. “i would be there for you every minute if i could… you know” he looked down again, blaming himself for the reason he could not be back at home with you.

“i know you didn’t do this, andy. you know… you didn’t do this. and i pray to our Lord everyday… that karma is fair… the truth will come to light… and you’ll get what you deserve…” you spoke with conviction. thoughts of that fateful trial replaying in your mind as you wept in the stands during his sentencing.

“and what’s that, dollface?” he questioned.

you smiled warmly. feeling sorry… that he truly didn’t know. “happiness.” you squeezed his hands with assurance. “happiness, andy.”

you shared a smile. and for once, he didn’t get up to kiss you. he got up to hug you. tighter than he’s ever embraced anyone before.

before you left, he made sure to cover you in your now dried wool coat, exceptionally tight. he was able to walk you out, down the hall to the doors that led to your exit. “i love you…”

you would never get tired of hearing him say it. “and i love you, my baby…” he kneeled down, planting a firm yet soft kiss on your covered up belly. my little girl. you both knew. you both had a sure feeling.

“wait a minute, i almost forgot to give you these. i baked them for you and your buddies… corn muffins” you searched in your basket, pulling out the neatly wrapped stack of them. “corn muffins…” andy smiled.

“you didn’t forget how much i love these… especially those made by you” he kissed your cheek. “thank you, babydoll”

“i could never forget, andy…” you bit your bottom lip. “send red and brooks all my love, honey. be strong in here… for me…” you smiled.

“i will, darling… i will”

𝜗ৎ

that night andy sat in the library with brooks. it was quiet, peaceful... and it was then that andy decided to break the silence. right before closing up for the night, "brooks... i— well, i'd like to tell you something. being you've become such a good friend of mine... and my wife's..."

wife... it rolled right off his tongue. as natural as saying hello. "sure, son. what's on your mind?" he watched andy with curiosity in his eyes. "we're expecting... havin' a baby..." andy smiled to himself. brooks became the first one to know.

the man took his glasses off. "...a baby?" he asked with a smile.

andy could only nod. and brooks began to cry, before andy could even muster up the tears. "a baby... how wonderful...miraculous...truly" the man began to sob. "i'm happy for you, andy. very… very happy"

and as the weeks passed by without you, brooks began putting aside children's books. he never knew why they were there, or how they arrived. yet, he had become very well at searching them out and finding the perfect collection for your baby. “this one..." he shuffled down the section. "no, this one... and this one... this one has rabbits. i think she'd like rabbits"

and this of course, made andy fall apart at the seams. he couldn’t be there to paint the nursery. he couldn’t be there for the doctor appointments. he couldn’t be there to feel every kick. but he made a sure promise to himself that he would be the best father he knew how to be. and he’d stop at absolutely nothing to achieve that.

𝜗ৎ

two months later, it was getting harder to walk… harder to control your bladder… but most of all, harder to hide the belly that seemed to have become enormous so suddenly. as you powdered makeup on in preparation for your trip to shawshank, you racked your brain as to how you could possibly go about continuing to hide it.

snow littered the ground, now december. it crunched beneath your hiking boots as you waddled up to the entrance of the prison, otto with his arm tucked around you in aid of helping you up the icy staircase. “thank you” you smiled.

“anything for my best girl… you take your time”

you made your way in as per usual. to your surprise, red had been treading down the hallway as you made your way to the visitation room. “y/n, how are you dear?” the man tipped his cap. it had been too long since you and red had crossed paths. as it was always very difficult to really spend time with any of the men locked up in shawshank. norton kept them all on a tight leash.

“red! so nice to see you!” you hugged him very tight. from all the stories andy had told you about him, you were more than grateful for red and his presence in andy’s life. perhaps, he would be a lot more sorrowful without him.

“look at you… you are glowing” the man smiled. you were sure he had been told the news, considering how close andy and red were. “i presume you’ve heard, haven’t you red… if it wasn’t obvious enough already” you laughed, moving your coat back slightly to reveal your now 6-month pregnant tummy.

“i have…” he grabbed your hands as if you were a daughter. “and i wish you two nothing but the best… andy is a very special man. i believe you two will get through this… and come out so very strong in the end. believe me…”

the man’s words were enough to bring tears to your eyes. “thank you, red. thank you” and you truly meant it. as your parents were no longer alive… and everyone you knew had andy pinned as someone he was not. it felt comforting knowing you had atleast a few good-hearted friends on your side. even if it were just otto, brooks, and red. and perhaps even margaret.

“i’ll go tell him you’re here. you go sit down and rest” red smiled, firmly grasping your shoulders before he turned away down the hall.

andy had been absentmindedly smoothing out a rock you had given him years prior when red popped his head into the common room. “andy… your miss’ has just arrived” he entered the room with a smile. different variations of those words drifted through the penitentiary every two months on the dot, and before long, they had become just another part of shawshank’s routine.

andy, however, never grew used to it.

no matter how many years had passed, every visit felt like the first. he’d smooth out the front of his collared shirt, run a hand through his sandy blonde hair, and pretend not to watch the clock.

“you’ve been looking at that clock all day. guess you knew she was comin’…” red grinned.

andy cleared his throat. “she comes every first tuesday on the second month” he stated plainly. “you’ve got a dedicated woman, that’s for sure” red snickered, gaining the attention of heywood and floyd who played checkers across the room at a small table. “you know… i’ve been hearing about this little slice of heaven alllll the years you’ve been in here, dufresne. and i’ve never once seen her. what do you say we all take a little trip down to visitation, huh? what do you say floyd?”

the country boy teased, earning the agreement of his friend and a few more of the boys nearby who had always been curious about the lovey-dovey dufresne girl who they had always heard lots about. “let’s go, fellas”

andy wasn’t much for unnecessary arguing. and so, that meant the group of inmates all went down to visitation, to lay eyes on the beautiful girl that belonged to dufresne. that girl was you.

𝜗ৎ

as the group entered the room, your eyes immediately settled on andy first. it was second nature for you. meanwhile, the rest of the men simply ogled with wide eyes. not only because you were beautiful, but because of the evident baby you were carrying that could only mean one thing to the men who truly knew andy, how long he’d been there and the timing of it all.

the men all exchanged glances. yet, after it came… nothing. nobody laughed. nobody even dared to speak. simply because andy had earned their respect.

**red’s narration : “a prison is full of gossip. where news travels faster than cigarettes. and by supper time— every man in shawshank knew andy was going to be a father.”

“funny thing was, nobody had the heart to ask how.”

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ౨ৎ

THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION | 1994 ₊𖥔

signed, sealed, delivered.

₊𖥔 in which a young girl’s secret lover gets sent away to shawshank state penitentiary after he gets falsely accused of murder. yet still, her love doesn’t quit… ׄ໑୧ ׅ𖥔ׄ (xreader) pov!

part one | wc : 3.710 |

read part two : here ♡

the 48’ chevy hummed wonderfully as it sped down old country road, the very last straightaway before the turn leading into shawshank state penitentiary. you’ve memorized the ride by now, every sign… every tree… a building that reminded you of the one you used to work in with andy.

it hadn’t been long into your internship when you first met him. he was an exceptional banker—sharp, quick-witted, and impressively intelligent. but it wasn’t his financial brilliance that kept you daydreaming after hours. more often, your mind wandered toward the gentle moments. quiet kisses he’d place on your neck when no one was around… or the handwritten notes he’d leave in your coat pocket, always signed with nothing but an 𝓐.

you never meant for it to end up like this. the man you loved painfully, forever sentenced to a life behind bars. you knew he was married when you became lovers, but the way things enfolded between you during a marriage that tore him apart at the seams… he always expressed how grateful he was to have you. only to be then pinned for the murder of his wife and her lover.

of course, you couldn’t help but feel partially to blame. when you pondered on it, the only explanation you could come up with was that it was your punishment for having an affair with a married man. a married man. what could you possibly be thinking?

but then andy’s face became pictured in your mind again, and you smiled. he truly was your weakness. the last time you came to visit him he had grown out his hair a bit, long enough that you laughed and said he was starting to look like james dean. although, each time you visited, what he made sure to hide from you were his many bruises. they littered his body like the plague, all from other inmates within the four walls looking for something andy would never give them.

this time it had been two months since your last visit with andy. you were only allowed one every sixty days— but that didn’t stop you from writing letters alongside the many phone calls you would leave at the office for him. the secretary had gotten to know you and your voice by now.

still, when you came you always brought his favorite things wrapped in packaging and string. some letters for reading late at night, rocks of all sorts… he loved them. some new books for the library and you could never forget the array of vinyls you would leave, hoping they could offer some sort of comfort in the hours of silence and confinement the prison put him through. you both enjoyed opera. and loretta lynn.

your fingertips treaded over the album covers as the car pulled up to the front of the enormous, dark prison. each time you laid eyes on it you couldn’t fathom how those men actually lived there. and as empty and cold as the bed was each night without andy there, you took what you could get. which is why your stomach flipped in excitement at the thought of finally seeing your darling lover again.

“here you are, y/n. how long you think you’ll be?” otto, your driver peered his eyes into the rear view mirror to gain a look at you. from his spot he could see you ogled up at the building with a written expression of both fear and comfort. you had known otto a long while now. he worked for a private cab company that you and andy had utilized far before he ever got locked up.

he was your friend. and these days, you truly didn’t seem to have many. he was sweet.

“give me a few minutes extra today… if you can, of course” you sighed, a tinge of hopefulness in your tone as you silently prayed the warden would allow you to stay longer with andy this time.

“i’ll be here— you be careful, now” otto smiled. and with that, you were off.

𝜗ৎ

you were escorted into the visitation room, where very few men were scattered and talking to those who came to see them. all eyes were on you as you paraded through the room, lace skirt moving ever so elegantly as you headed over toward your usual spot in the room. the walls were made of gray brick, the place was anything but inviting. and yet, you sat all excited like you were right at home. suddenly, the warden of the place came strolling through. a short, stocky man who wore nothing but a proud smile while gliding around to admire his prison system.

sam norton. head of shawshank state penitentiary. worlds biggest jackass. you couldn’t stand him, yet for some reason each time you came to visit he began lurking around you like a shark in bloody waters. “miss y/l/n, what a pleasant surprise” the man brushed his fingertips against the exposed bareness of your shoulder, making you want to jump out of your own skin. “good morning, warden”

your focus was settled past the man where you looked for the familiar face of your boyfriend. “oh that’s right, you always come visit on the first tuesday of the month” the old man smiled as he flipped through a packet of papers.

you nodded with a forced grin. “yes sir… would you happen to know where andy is by chance?” you had enough with the small talk, wanting to get right down to business. meaning you’d do just about anything to get the warden’s smug face out of eyesight and away from you— quickly.

“i’ll uh— get him for you…” the man’s southern accent came out much more when speaking to you. despite your efforts to prove your disinterest in him, he always tried his best at trying to impress you. but to no avail. “i’ll wait here”

and so you sat patiently like the little doll that you were while he fetched your inmate in shining armor. it didn’t take long before his perky cheeks and delightfully squinted eyes came barreling through the little door. “my baby…”

you couldn’t help but hop to your feet, skirt and fabric traveling upward with the rest of you. again, all eyes landed on the noise. but you couldn’t find it in you much to care. all you saw as your heels clicked across that visitation room were ol’ blue eyes. your andy.

falling into his embrace, the subtle scent of soap and laundry had you on cloud nine as it satisfied you far more than any of his expensive cologne ever could. just him being there, the cloth of his button down against your cheeks, was all you dreamed about night after night you spent apart from the man.

pearls of tears that you could not control began to prick the corners of your eyes. “my, you are a sight for sore eyes, honey” the man muttered into the crook of your neck, his head burying further as deep as he could possibly go. “how i missed you so…” you whimpered.

departing, your crying left a stain of tears on his chest. “let me just look at ya…” he grinned, placing his hands firmly on either side of your cheeks— his thumbs fitting perfectly within the divots of your dimples.

“come on, now… let’s chat awhile, hm?” the two of you drifted towards your quaint little table. his calloused hand holding yours tightly on the steel.

in deep conversation about the house, the farm… the despicable face of shawshank’s warden appeared from the darkness of the doorway. “you’ve got about two minutes, dufresne. not a second more” he spat.

as strong as you were, your sensitive side began to take over you. an overwhelming wave of sorrow. “i can’t leave, andy… i can’t make it another two months without you…” you squeezed his hand with force. the two life-sentences he had been given was distant in your mind. it had to be. the mere thought of going home again without him was enough to madden you. the thought of never fulfilling the beautiful life you had just begun building together was too much for you.

“i’ll put you in my pocket” he forced a smile. it was just as difficult for him, yet he always managed to push through, offering his light hearted humor for your sake… and his.

andy ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair, the motion exposing a part of skin beneath his collar bone. you noticed ever so carefully.

“hey…” you expressed with concern, leaning over to peel back part of his shirt. volatile marks of purple and blue trailed down his chest. “andy, what’s been going on in here?” you questioned, low and quiet. quickly, he jumped from your touch to cover up the bruises. “nothing, angel.. please..”

your heart began to pulse wildly, your chest tightening up with each shaky breath. “andy…” the tears began again. “promise me, promise me y/n… you won’t worry. i need you to promise me” he pleaded. in the softest voice he could possibly muster. and with that, the warden marched over, ripping andy from his chair and dragging him towards the door.

“get your hands off him!” you sprang up from the chair. all heads in the visitation room turned to watch the commotion. norton winced with shock… you suppose no one had ever spoken to him like that before. surely, not a woman.

“i didn’t even get to say goodbye… dammit have a heart” you scoffed with disgust. your delicate fingers removed the man’s grasp from your boyfriend, pulling him close toward you as if you were a mother protecting her kin.

andy simply watched. thousands of thoughts running through his head, some of which revolved around how he would be punished. mostly, in awe of the woman that you were and how you had no fear standing up for yourself and the man you loved. “come here, baby” he pulled you in.

he wrapped his arms around you as if the world were to end right then and there. he kissed the supple skin of your face and neck, taking in every last breath of your scent like it were intoxicating him. “i love you. i love you. i love you with every inch of my heart, y/n. be strong for me, babydoll” he spoke, in fragments that became more broken with every passing moment.

𝜗ৎ

your next visits went just about the same, with many handwritten letters and tokens of love in between. the year was now 1953. five very long years without your love snaking his arms around your waist while you baked, wrapping his arms around you in between sheets at night, watching the stars that painted the skies above as soon as sun began to set. you missed every bit of him, every hour… every day. but that would never change.

“how long today, sweetie?” otto watched you via his rear view mirror. he noticed you had been very quiet on the ride over, something deep inside you that was stirring and disturbing you. “a few minutes extra, please” you spoke soft.

the man nodded, eyes fixed on you and laced with pity. “you got it…” he offered a sad smile from the drivers seat before watching you go.

as you were led down the long corridor towards the familiar room, your gaze became fixed on the cutest little old man with a head of white hair. “brooks!” you exclaimed without a second thought. the man, lost in his own internal conversations snapped his head up to gain a look. a smile appeared on his gentle features. “y/n… how are you sweetheart? come to see andy again…” he approached you with grace.

you hugged him tightly, the two of you exchanging a kiss on the cheek and a warmth that wasn’t seen often in shawshank. “i’ve brought you something very special…” you smiled, digging in your bag for a particular, beautifully spined piece of literature.

𝜗ৎ

months prior, you had an interesting back and forth with andy during visitation. “what does brooks read when no one else is watching…” you smiled, hopeful light still in your eyes. andy grinned, “everything”

to which you giggled with delight. “that isn’t very helpful, andy” the man then leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment before his expression changed to thrill. “he has a very soft spot for birds… bring him a book about birds and he’ll read it cover to cover”

𝜗ৎ

“my… how sweet you are” brooks was taken aback, scanning the cover that was home to a wonderfully illustrated black crow. “they’ve put jake in a book it seems” you laughed softly.

his eyes were beaming, a look of pure gratitude displayed there on his face. it was nearly enough to make you cry. as all of these wonderful men hardly seemed as if they could hurt a fly. you would never understand how they could end up in a place like this.

“thank you… just, thank you. you are… simply wonderful. andy is lucky to have you”

and you knew deep in your heart how lucky andy was to have brooks, an intelligent man who was pure and gentle. as that was exactly what the men and boys of shawshank penitentiary needed. perhaps, that was what you needed too.

and with that, you were escorted off to see him. your andy. you chatted about books, about music, about the romance the two of you shared… that still burned passionately even confined by thirty minute intervals within cold walls of a prison.

the room was fairly empty that tuesday evening as the sun began to set. guards that usually surveilled the quarters were nowhere to be found. you found it odd, but awfully comforting.

“next time, i oughta bring candles… our nice persian tablecloth… and perhaps that salmon dinner from carmela’s you used to eat so seductively across from me at our usual table” you smiled. it was memories like that you held onto. they seemed to keep your threads from loosening and your head on straight.

andy smiled, wide. “that will be the first place we go once i get out of this place, what do you say?” he spoke softly. a glimmer of small hope flashed in his irises. sure, you both knew he would never be getting out. yet, just for a moment. you did like to pretend. “yes, baby… let’s…”

suddenly, he took your hand. you weren’t sure what he was up to as he pulled you right up to your feet. “come with me…” he led you away. down the empty hallway and off into the library.

“wow…” you gasped, a breath of book-scented air filling your lungs. “this is marvelous… no wonder you and brooks come here often to escape” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently.

he turned to face you, every movement slow and caring. his eyes flickered with desire, romance… he kissed you wildly, connecting his lips with yours as if they were the oxygen he needed to live.

your heart began to beat hard and fast, your stomach flipping with each low hum that escaped him. his hands pulled roughly at your dress. he was determined to get it off you, small etches of seams ripping filled your ears. he smiled with pride. “andy… what are we doing? i don’t want to get you in trouble…” you spoke in hurried breaths between kisses. the towering man simply laughed. “i brought you here, doll… didn’t i?”

getting back to your chariot who awaited, you slipped into the backseat of otto’s 48’ chevy. “what on earth took you so long?”

𝜗ৎ

it had been nearing a month since your rendezvous with andy in the library. and there you were, hands wrapped around the sink countertop as you stared down at a positive pregnancy test.

you cried and cried your heart out, til there were simply no tears left to escape. you just couldn’t believe it, but ultimately… you couldn’t deny how impossibly beautiful it was that you were going to have andy’s baby.

you remembered the following month so vividly. walking up to shawshank, big and bad as always. there was a book wrapped in string clasped tightly within your grasp. fatherhood. you couldn’t help but crack a smile. your heels clicked on the pavement, until the cool, metallic air wafted against your face once you made it inside.

you sat impatiently at your quaint little table. your knees bounced as you tried to hold them still. and once that darling face appeared in the doorway, you sprang up in excitement, rushing over to him as if it were the first time all over again. “baby” you cooed.

“how are ya, little girl” he squeezed you tightly. his hands gentle and soothing as his fingers caressed the small of your back. “i’m doing just fine now that i’m with you” you spoke into his shirt, nuzzled against him warm and safe.

you kept thinking and thinking throughout the course of your lovely conversation. patiently awaiting that wonderful moment to which you would break the news to andy that he would soon be a father, even if it was not in the way you both had hoped. “penny for your thoughts?”

your lips pursed and your dimples had been more pronounced than they had ever been before. “well… i do have something to share with you, dear” you flattened your dress, eyeing the book in your lap nervously before meeting his gaze again. “you oughta start reading this book, although… i know how exceptional you’re going to be even without it” you slid it over to him, making sure the title was placed perfectly beneath his eye line.

it took andy a moment. fatherhood, he read. he repeated it over and over, the word swelling bigger in his mind until he eventually faced you with tears. “y/n” he smiled. he began to laugh through his crying, face reddening with emotion as he stood up to grab you. “i’m so sorry baby…” he cried. he sobbed into your shoulder, holding you carefully in the middle of that visitation room.

“don’t be sorry, honey… don’t be sorry”

you knew how bittersweet the moment was. how he had probably been blaming himself above all for everything he had put you through and what was yet to come. he wanted to be there for you more than anything. but being his… being andy dufresne’s girl… the mother of his child. well that was more than enough for you.

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ౨ৎ

₊𖥔 in which the lovely bride to mr. carl kolchak begins to notice another woman in the office taking interest in the frantic reporter. ໑୧ ׅ𖥔ׄ (xreader) pov! kolchak: the nightstalker ♡. }

you gathered some papers together before heading across the INS office, your heels colliding with the carpet as you walked. your eyes were set on the dreamiest man in the office. your husband, as he typed away at his desk, eyes harshly focused on the paper in front of him. you smiled at the sight of him, it was a usual occurrence. just his face could improve your mood, greatly.

as you neared, your perfume filled his nose. he looked in the direction of the scent, a giddy smile of his own now appearing on his face. "hi darling" he cooed, taking his hands off of his typewriter to offer you his full attention. "hi there! this is for you, honey. it's some information on the court hearing you were doing a story on. captain warren just brought it over" you set the paper down in front of him.

"wow, he's done something nice for a change" the man scoffed causing a small laugh to escape your chest. his sarcastic personality was one of the many charms he characterized that made you fall for him in the first place. although, upon getting the office job– you had no clue you would end up meeting the love of your life just across the way from your desk.

“could you do me a favor, and bring this over to tony please?" carl grabbed the paper from his typewriter, handing it to you gently. "certainly" you grinned, taking the paper from his hand delicately. "thanks, sweetheart" you heard him mutter as you began walking away from him. suddenly a young woman entered your field of view.

she had been obnoxiously chewing bubble gum while struggling to sharpen a pencil in the corner of the room. your eyebrows furrowed at her presence as mr. vincenzo came out of his office. "just the man i wanted to see! this is from carl" you grinned, waving the form in front of the tall man. he flipped it front and back before snorting, "excellent read!"

"hey who's that woman over there, sir?" you asked, your curiosity getting the best of you as you nodded towards the tall, younger-looking woman with locks of golden hair. "oh that's carol! my boss' daughter. she wants to be a journalist" he explained in amusement before heading over toward carl's desk.

you didn't think much of her. definitely not a threat, no. yet, you noticed how pristine she looked, which she did… in every possible way. curled hair that looked like it took hours to set, freshly dry cleaned clothes, and an award winning smile that made her appear as if she belonged on television rather than a cluttered newsroom filled with cigarette smoke.

her charm didn’t seem to bother you much. nor the way she looked like a cover model for vogue. it bothered you how she seemed very comfortable laughing and touching the arm of your husband. he was deep in a story, arms waving frantically, completely oblivious to the girl’s glazed over look in her eyes she stared at him.

it was then, that you couldn't help your feet from making their way over. "hi there. catherine, was it?" you tilted your head at the girl, purposely getting it wrong and interrupting right in the middle of whatever groundbreaking story carl was in the middle of. it was then, face to face, inches away from the girl, that your dislike had really started to settle in.

“carol, but close. and you?” she offered a tight lipped smile. one that had evidently been forced, revealing the girl was not too fond of you either.

“oh well i just thought i'd come over and introduce myself. i'm (y/n), (y/n) kolchak" you extended your slim hand out to her. it was hesitant, but she shook it firmly. her mannerisms reminded you a lot of a tomboy.

“kolchak, my… you’re married, carl?" she turned to face the man, her bright pink gum evidently showing behind her set of teeth. she spoke to him as if they had known one another for twenty years. “you didn’t say anything about that…” she added, looking you up and down very carefully. you scoffed, getting ready to turn on your heel and head back to your desk.

“well… that was the part i was getting to!” he smiled, his usual grin. that particular day you didn’t seem to find him too amusing. “i was tellin’ the story of that disastrous ripper… but i did make sure he went nowhere near my little lady” carl boasted, leaning over to pinch your arm.

“and thank heavens for that” you smiled. “take care, caroline…” and with that, you walked away. a devilish smirk making it’s way onto your face as you heard the girl moan and grumble behind you.

“kolchak, you and carol better get goin’ before the sun starts to set. i don’t have two weeks for this story to get done” tony’s voice boomed throughout the office as he sternly ordered the assignment.

𝜗ৎ

"where are they going, sir?" you questioned your boss. you always found the shenanigans of being a reporter to be fun and adventurous, yet being a secretary meant always being stuck at the office.

"down to smith and mcqueen, there's a hostage situation… i figured it'd be a good place for the kid to see some action" he nodded in the direction of the blonde before starting off towards his office, "i left some things for you to tend to on your desk" tony informed. a day never went by at INS without mass amount of deadlines and work to be done, quickly.

you nodded as if he could see you, though his back was turned, then placing your attention back on the young blonde who had been pulling on her coat across the room.

it wasn’t a charming idea for you that the girl would be under carl’s wing for the majority of the workday, but of course you trusted your husband with all your heart. it was her, you did not trust. while you were lost in thought, the man of the hour made himself known, towering above you as he leaned on your desk.

carl was watching you with happy eyes, a smile on his face that he wasn’t even aware was there. you stood up smoothing out your skirt, "be careful, sweetheart. come back in one piece, okay?" you set a hand against his jaw, offering a soft, gentle look into his eyes as if it would be the last time you would ever see them.

you were a dramatic woman, as he would tell you often, but the truth of the matter was that he truly had a dangerous job to do. you appreciated every moment you had with him. even small encounters within the bustling independent news service office that never seemed to still.

having carl thrown into the midst of crime all the time did anything but settle your nerves, you were never able to relax unless he was safe and sound with you.

a feeling you knew, that young girl with eyes for your husband, would never truly know or carry.

"i know, i know. don't you worry about me. just try not to miss me too much while i’m gone" he smirked, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips. a high-pitched voice wedged between you like a knife, separating you with a jolt. “let's just get out of here, huh???" carol made herself known heading toward the door with long, hurried strides.

you watched as his blue suit faded from the office floor, an array of emotions bubbling up inside of you. yet, like carl, you had a job to do. you decided you were going to get right to it.

𝜗ৎ

it was later that evening, while cookies were baking in the oven and a glass of wine swirled gracefully within your fingertips that you and carl had finally begun to unwind from the day of work.

in the comfort of your own home, it was then that he could be free from the stresses of his job, even if just for a little while. although, it always seemed to be the topic of your conversations. especially, if he had been thinking about a new monster / villain who had been wreaking havoc in the neighborhood.

“you were a little quiet on our ride home today” you spoke softly. he looked up from the paper he was reading, his glasses sliding towards the tip of his nose. “i was… wasn’t i?” he sighed. a sheepish smile crossed his features. “i’m sorry, honey. a lot on my mind… as per usual” he admitted.

now, with his full attention on you, you crossed the living room slowly and decided to take a seat beside him. “how was the excursion with your girlfriend today?” you teased.

he nearly choked on his drink. the liquid splashed upwards in a fit of surprise and confusion. the man quickly looked down, smoothing out his shirt where the droplets had landed. “something i never dreamed my wife would be asking me…” he chuckled.

“don’t tell me you’re… jealous, dear” his eyes narrowed, moving closer towards you as a devilish gleam seemed to sparkle in his eye.

“jealous… of course not” you raised your ring finger, showcasing the sparkling ring wrapped tightly around it. “although, i do remember being that excited and giddy around you as a young girl….” breaking eye contact, you decided to have another sip of your cabernet.

“i can recall it very well…” he smiled.

suddenly his thoughts became flush with the very first day he set eyes on you. timid, polite, a bit reserved but exceptionally friendly. he remembered wracking his brain for weeks on the most strategic way to learn more about you, eventually realizing he had no other option than to make you his.

his eyes squinted in realization, “wait a minute… you still get excited and giddy around me…!” he grinned, slipping his hands into your sides where you were most ticklish. you jolted, trying to get away from him as you yelled. “stop it, carl! stop!” all the while you were in hysterics.

after the laughter died down, and you had forcefully shoved the man over towards the other end of the couch, his voice squeaked out innocently, “well… don’t you?”

“i would be a fool to deny it” you smiled.

𝜗ৎ

“did you really not notice the way she was pining over you today?” a few minutes later and the aspiring journalist was still on your mind. you only hoped it wouldn’t be a daily occurrence of watching her fawn over your husband.

carl turned to face you, as he had gone back to meddling in his reports. putting his papers down again, a small curious smile appeared on his face. “so… you really are jealous, aren’t you my baby…”

“i am not…” you muttered defensively. although, you were. not for any reason other than the fact that an eager young woman who had just landed in the INS office thought she truly had the power to take what belonged to you. of course, neither of you would ever allow that to happen.

“sounds to me like you are…” he tossed the reports on the coffee table, moving toward you slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. he crawled over you, arms caging you in as his whiskey breath hit your face plainly.

“don’t look so happy…” you attempted to swipe the smile off his face with your manicured fingertips. he laughed, “i can’t help it” it came out as nearly a whisper.

you grabbed his shirt harshly, pulling him in for a rough yet soft kiss. his lips collided with you sweetly, the taste was your addiction.

eventually the two of you parted, chests rising and falling with each heavy breath as you stared. “i don’t notice these sort of things, doll… i notice you… i always notice you…” he assured.

“and she…. she definitely ain’t you….”

with that, his lips were on you once again. you now realized just how silly you had been… and your infatuation for the man had only intensified and grown stronger through his love for you.

a faint smell of batter began to fill the air, you pulled back dramatically…

“the cookies!”

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ౨ৎ

₊𖥔 in which a young secretary and a monster hunter become infatuated with one another in the wonderful city of chicago ໑୧ ׅ𖥔ׄ (xreader) pov! kolchak: the nightstalker ♡. }

each and every morning at the INS newsroom, you would arrive ten minutes early with a fresh cup of coffee and a neat stack of notes for the day.

each and every morning, carl kolchak would arrive twenty minutes late looking like he’d slept in his suit. his hat made of straw would be crooked, his tie would be hanging halfway off his neck, and his camera bag would be stuffed and overflowing with papers.

it wasn't rare for the man to be arguing with someone before he even reached his desk. usually, at the other end would be your boss, tony vincenzo.

“kolchak, where were you last night?” the stocky italian questioned him with folded arms. you watched quietly from your desk. “i was workin.” he responded, the frequent usual. not once have you ever seen the man partake in any hobby outside of chasing leads and conducting research at his desk.

“you were trespassing!” the man bellowed. “it’s called investigative journalism.” carl retaliated with a sheepish grin. “it’s called getting arrested!”

with the gentle pats of your ballet flats against the carpet, you’d quietly set a hot cup of coffee on carl’s desk. just the way you knew he liked it.

without even looking away from tony, he’d reach over and grab it. wrinkled fingers carefully grasping the ceramic mug. “thanks, sweetheart.”then, back to his arguing.

𝜗ৎ

you’d been working as a secretary at INS for nearly a year before carl really started paying attention to you. not because he didn’t notice you, no… because everybody noticed you. you were the one who kept the place running.

you answered phones, organized schedules, typed reports, tracked deadlines and found missing paperwork. although, most importantly, you consistently made sure to keep carl kolchak out of trouble… for the most part, while preventing tony from having three nervous breakdowns a week.

what would they do without you?

carl was always chasing monsters. really. so while everybody else saw a capable secretary… carl saw the person who magically fixed every disaster he had accidentally brought to life. that was until one particularly awful tuesday evening.

the newsroom was completely empty when carl stumbled through the doors around midnight. you hadn’t expected anyone to be trampling into the office that late as you typed away on a report you were keen on finishing.

your eyes were wide with concern as you noticed a scarlet red substance smudged all over his jaw.

his lip was bleeding.

a sharp gasp filled your lungs as you stood up, worry written all over your features. his suit was covered in dirt, with one sleeve completely torn into shreds. “carl!” you rushed over to his side without a second thought.

the man froze, as it was apparent, like you, he hadn’t expected anyone else to be there in the quaint, chicago office.

“what are you doin’ here?” he asked in a soft, boy-like tone. the way his voice trailed up towards the end of his sentence couldn’t help but cause a smile to tug at your lips. “this is where i work.” of course, you were pulling his leg.

“it’s midnight…” he brought his wrist watch up to his eye level. he turned it gently to confirm his suspicions, fixing his gaze back on you and your beautifully exhausted babyface, accompanied by a head full of thick, fawn-colored, ruffled hair.

“you’re here too…” you spoke real low and quiet, your dimples filling your cheeks nicely.

“yeah well… i’m a lunatic.” he shrugged, to which you couldn’t help yourself from laughing. carl grinned. he enjoyed the way your face lit up when he would make you laugh. then, a sudden wince.

“come on, you. we’ve gotta get this cleaned up and taken care of” you watched him with sad, loving eyes. gently taking hold of his wrist to lead him back over towards your desk. nothing illuminating the dark office but the warm lamp sitting beside your paperwork.

“it isn’t that bad” he admitted bashfully. you stopped in your tracks, hands on your hips. you looked at him assertively like a stern mother, despite the fact that his six foot self always towered over you. the look was enough to make him shuffle nervously. “it’s barely bleeding”

“carl…” your voice carried throughout the quiet office. tone laced with disappointment and concern.

it was not even five minutes later that the man was sitting on the edge of your desk, watching you intently as you cleaned the cut on his mouth. the entire newsroom sat silent around you. for once. no phones, no chatter, no deadlines…

just the two of you.

he tried to hold back a smile. he was entranced as you went to work on him. gauze, bandages, a wet cloth… it was all laid out beside you like he was in a doctor’s office. he wanted to ask where all the supplies had even come from, but decided against it. he wanted no part in the possibility of ruining the sweetness in the moment.

“so, what really happened mister?” you asked, eyebrows raising in curiosity. he looked away, shyly. “dog” he mumbled with a soft groan.

“a dog did all this damage?” “big dog…”

you narrowed your eyes. “carl… you don’t have to lie around me” you offered a smile. you continued patting his wound gently before applying some ointment beneath a bandage, some emergency items you always kept in your pocket-book. you never knew when you would need to mend kolchak on a rainy workday evening. he sighed.

“it wasn’t a dog… well, technically one could consider it so…” he caved. it didn’t take long around you. “i knew it” you answered, though you weren’t happy to be right.

“it was, well… i suspect it was a werewolf”

you nearly dropped your cotton swab. your face resembled a deer in headlights. carl bursted out laughing, “there she is.”

“you are unbelievable” you shook your head.

𝜗ৎ

from that night on, something between you and carl changed. maybe it was because you’d seen him vulnerable. maybe it was because carl realized you really worried about him. maybe it was the way the dim desk lamp had hit your rosy cheeks that night.

whatever it was, he was starting to find reasons to visit your desk. frequently. constantly. every single day. he would bring you coffee, he would leave newspaper clippings on your desk, cut-out sections from the funnies, strange headlines, stories he thought you’d enjoy.

you took up lots of space in his mind.

he’d stop by your desk just to complain. he’d rant and rave about any and every little thing that had been bothering him. editors, cops, tony… monsters nobody else believed existed. no matter what it was, he always had your full attention.

and somehow, before either of you realized it… you became each other’s favorite part of coming to work each day.

𝜗ৎ

one rainy evening you were typing up reports when another reporter wandered over. young, handsome, confident… the type of man that knew he was good-looking, and that kind of ego just couldn’t help but radiate off of him.

carl immediately disliked him. for reasons he absolutely refused to examine. and aross the room he sat, pretending to read notes.

pretended, because he hadn’t absorbed a single world in fifteen minutes.

the reporter was leaning against your desk. making you laugh. and carl hated it. not the laughing, he loved your laugh. the problem was that somebody else had the pleasure of causing it. he had been stirring in his misery.

frank, the young man’s voice drifted across the room. “so what’re you doing friday night?” carl’s pencil snapped. right in half.

tony, a man who didn’t miss a thing, looked up. “why are you breaking office supplies?” “i’m not.” he grumbled with pure annoyance.

“you just murdered that pencil.” carl muttered something unintelligible, under his breath.

when frank finally walked away, off into the next set of office cubicles down the hall, carl appeared at your desk approximately three seconds later.

coincidence. pure coincidence.

“what’d he want?” you looked up. pretending to be surprised by his arrival. “hm?” you glanced.

“that guy.” “oh…” you smiled. “he asked me out.” carl’s stomach dropped. a feeling he hadn't felt before. it wasn't the kind of sting he had felt when face to face with a murderous killer or criminal. it was far worse.

“oh.” he answered.

you tilted your head, amusement in your expression. “that’s all?” you asked sweetly.

he appeared confused, furrowing his eyebrows and tightening his tie in a fit of anxiety. “just ‘oh’?” you teased. carl suddenly found the floor ever so fascinating. “well… what else would you like me to say, doll?”

you studied him. a small smile appearing on your face naturally. a dangerous smile, the kind that meant you knew something.

“are you jealous, kolchak?” you rarely called the man by his last name, mainly because you enjoyed his first too much. his head snapped up. “what did you say?” he squeaked. “well, are you?”

“no.” was his definitive answer. yet, of course. you were a wonderful lie detector. “you are.”

carl pointed dramatically. “that is a completely baseless accusation.” and you laughed.

that was when carl felt his heart take off into a fluttering race, as it always did around you. he knew was in trouble. far and deep.

𝜗ৎ

the next few weeks only made things worse. for carl, that was. because now he knew what it was he felt. he was completely in love with you.

hopelessly. ridiculously. painfully.

that he was, in love.

not because you were beautiful. though you were, and he knew it. not because you were kind, though, you were. you were many things.

but what made him love you were the little things. the way you always remembered how he took his coffee, the way you worried when he disappeared on investigations, the way you never laughed at him when he talked about his theories, his monsters… the way your face would appear in his mind. late at night when all he wanted was to drift off into sleep.

and when nobody else believed him. you did. you always did. you were beginning to care for him deeply, more so than anyone else you had known.

𝜗ৎ

on that warm, solemn friday, carl had been missing for almost twenty-four hours. no calls, no bustling through the office in frantics, nothing.

you were neurotically pacing the newsroom when the elevator finally opened. carl stepped out, bruised, exhausted… but alive, to your relief.

before you could think better of it, you practically ran across the room. “carl!” he barely had any time to react before your arms were wrapped around his frame.

for a moment neither of you moved. the newsroom disappeared, the noise faded into silence… everything and everyone disappeared.

carl slowly wrapped his arms around you. he held you tighter than he’d ever held anyone. ever.

you held yourself close against the rise and fall of his chest, mumbling into the cotton of his dress shirt, “i thought something happened to you,” it came out as a whisper. the fear in your voice struck him harder than any thing else could.

carl looked down at you, really looking. at your concern, your relief, the affection you’d been trying to hide for months. it all came bubbling to the surface now. then, he smiled softly.

the genuine smile he almost never gave anybody.

“missed me that much?” he questioned, genuinely surprised. you began laughing through the tears. “maybe… in other words, absolutely”

his heart pounded, “good.” now, his voice was much quieter. gentler. “i missed you too… bad” he admitted. “i had to make it back in one piece for my girl” his smile sent warmth and light into you. it has been the first time all day.

within an instant, his lips were against yours. a kiss so natural, it was as if you had done it a thousand times before. at the same time, it was the most wonderful rush you had ever felt coursing through you.

there you were, just the two of you, carl lifting a hand to your soft cheek and a gentle warmth around you. there was every chance to pull away.

you didn’t dare.

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ౨ৎ

TRUE ROMANCE | 1993 ₊𖥔

a man and his dolly.

₊𖥔 in which a girl and a boy are madly in love. and there’s not much the rest of the world can seem to do about it۪ ׄ໑୧ ׅ𖥔ׄ (xreader) pov!

lipstick marks covered the filter of your cigarette as you hung outside the window of clarence worley’s little detroit apartment. a place made cozy by him, as well as the home to an abundance of cute elvis antiques and artifacts.

as carefree as you’ve been since meeting your husband … that afternoon, you felt knots in your stomach and worries consumed you. your darling had gone off to defend your honor and retrieve your belongings from the place of your former pimp. a dangerous job, but he urged you that he wasn’t afraid.

you begged him not to go. but when clarence set his mind to something, chances are they would end up happening. that’s how the man had always been, and that’s how he would probably be forever. so there he was, standing within the four walls of drexl’s apartment. firmly but kindly, asking for your things. your most precious items, from your very first pair of heels to a stuffed bear you lit up with warmth each time you talked about. clarence wanted your things, and the man to forget you forever.

meanwhile, you were back in your honeymoon suite waiting for him. lighting one cigarette up after another, you had not a clue as to what the man had been enduring over at drexl’s motel on the other side of town. but you could only imagine it wasn’t anything good.

after a glass of wine and a little time later, the door to the motel room shuffled and budged. your husband appeared on the other side, a plastic bag of fast food grasped between his fingers and a smile he wore from ear to ear.

“i’m back, babydoll”

you rushed in from the small kitchenette. you hadn’t been able to sit down and relax since he left, so seeing his face come through that door was surely a relief. he wore his favorite pair of sunglasses proudly on his nose, the ones you loved so very much when he wore. batting your eyelashes, you’d tell him, “you look just like elvis baby!”

you ran into his arms, resting your face against the cotton of his t-shirt like he’d been gone for years. then, you took a few steps back.

“what happened! what did he do to you?” your face rippled with concern and your eyes searched him for any bruises or cuts. just then, you noticed the blood painted all on his neck and face. as you lifted his sunglasses, your breath hitched at the damage he wore beneath them.

“oh, clarence” you sighed, hands lightly treading the features of his face. you were careful with his cuts and the wounds that marked him up.

“i’m alright, sweetheart. i’m alright…” he did his best in attempting to calm your nerves. yet, of course you weren’t buying it. the blood that remained on his cheeks told you a different story. “no, you’re not— come with me, your babydoll will clean you up” you laced your fingers with his as you quietly led him into his bathroom.

“the hamburgers are gonna get cold” clarence laughed, setting down the food before letting you drag him across your little humble abode. “they’ll be okay! now really, clarence. tell me what that bastard did!” you squeezed him in assertion, pursing your lips and furrowing your eyebrows— just the way he liked. he blushed, but the look in your eye truly told him you meant business.

“i don’t see why that matters when uh—drexl is dead. i ended that motherfucker!” he clapped, sitting on the bathtub just like you ordered him to do. his cheeks puffed out as a laugh left his lips.

you paused from wetting the washcloth, turning slowly to look at him as all your thoughts silenced.

“drexl is dead”

you wish you could’ve gotten a photo of the way clarence was beaming. so proud of what he had done. what he had done for you.

a whimper left your lips, your hands flying up to cover your reddening face. that’s when clarence shifted, expression changing as the reality of the situation finally sunk in. “(y/nickname)?” he looked worried. racking his brain for any and every possible reason for your tears. “what are you crying for?” his bruised hands quickly grabbed your waist as he pulled you in closer.

he tucked a silky piece of hair behind your ear lovingly as quiet sobs echoed from behind your cupped hands. “the guy was a an asshole! scum of the earth, the lowest of the fuckin’ low— and you’re.. crying over him?” he sounded hurt.

all you could do was cry. which in turn, made things seem far worse than they truly were.

“do you love him?” clarence growled, repeating the phrase with screams that only grew louder with each passing second. “i just think… what you did, clarence… was the most… you’re the most…” you couldn’t catch your breath, only wanting to cry more as the man sat in front of you. his puppy eyes looking up at you, those lips that you loved so dearly. each time they curled up into a smile you could swear you were walking on air.

only now, his face was drenched with sadness. “what, baby… what is it?” clarence cooed. desperately he searched for an answer, he wanted to know he did right by you. that’s all he ever wished to do since meeting you.

the feeling of his fingertips running across your skin felt like sparks, shocking you back to life as he craved your touch. being close. his hand lightly grabbed hold of your jaw, thumb padding your cheeks in an effort to wipe your tears away. he smiled softly, pressing his finger in the indentation where your dimple usually was.

“i love you, clarence joseph worley. with all my heart. and you killing that man. that… thing!” you paused. “i think it’s about the sweetest, most romantic thing.. that anyone has ever done for a girl like me” you pouted, trying your best to hold back your tears. but it was no use. they came streaming from your eyelids like a runny faucet.

the man had killed for you. murdered.

and all it did was drive you even crazier in love with clarence worley. your heart pounded with desire, body heating up as his smile only grew wider from your words. he knew you would never shed a tear over that degenerate, he knew you would never do that to him. you did him good.

“well, of course baby! it’s what i do, after all… i’m here to protect you” clarence explained the concept to you as if it were plain as day. and still, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you had defied all odds and actually found the man worth loving. and boy, did he love you.

so what if you’ve only knew him two days?

clarence pulled you onto his lap, laughing quietly as the two of you collided under the glow of a flickering bathroom lightbulb. he kissed you and it tasted sweet like sugar. imagining that the feeling over you must have been what heaven felt like, and in his arms you wanted to stay forever.

“thank you, clarence” you blinked harshly as the mascara ran down your face. but clarence couldn’t seem to care. he merely held you like a delicate jewel, only taking notice in the way your tone became laced with relief. you were free. because of him, and that was a beautiful thing.

you started patting his face with the cool rag and kissing him in and out of a daze. “thank you… thank you…” after each accolade your lips met his face softly. hank williams softly played from the television in his living room, acting as some company.

“you’re the only girl i’ve ever loved more than elvis” he smirked, somehow the glasses ended up back over his dark eyes. you were his match made in heaven. the only girl to watch three kung-fu movies in one night with him, the only one who seemed to see the man for who he really was.

“your things… your things are over there” he informed you between kisses, reminding himself of the very suitcase he had risked his life going to get. but, the peace of mind knowing your pimp wouldn’t be back for you anytime soon meant more to clarence than anything else in the world. well, anything besides that hamburger.

“elliot! oh, clarence— thank you” you called from the living room as you tore apart the suitcase. immediately, your eyes became set on none other than your infamous bear that you couldn’t live without. he was in perfect condition, just the way you left him. “the girls made fun of me for having him… but i don’t care” you squeezed the bear lovingly as clarence came in from fixing himself in the bathroom.

as he set his eyes on you with elliot 🧸, a wide smile crossed his lips. “you are just the cutest little dolly in the world, you know that?” clarence reached down to embrace you, ruffling the top of your head where he then placed a delicate kiss.

“i’m so happy you got him for me, clarence! you’re the best husband in the world” you sighed out affectionately, rubbing your thumb across the marble of the bear’s eyeball.

“now that you’ve taken care of me like the wonderful, smokin’ nurse that you are… will you please eat something with me? i’m starving…” clarence grumbled, you watched him as he sat down on the sofa next to you.

his little apartment was quaint and perfect for you. you wished to stay there forever with the man, old movies on the TV and cookies baking in the oven. you had only known clarence joseph worley for exactly two nights and three days. your happiness with the man was more than you had ever felt in your entire time of being alive.

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ౨ৎ