#my mum not knowing I get out of school late. Like how it's supposed to be?

[theo4eve]

Horrible first day.

[moonstruckme]

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return. 

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 

“You’ve caught me.” 

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

[probably-writing-x]

All The Firsts (Part 2)

Summary: So, could you write something about the reader being in her first relationship with spider (hbh) and her being worried about how she’s new at this?

Warnings: Mentions of sex / sexual acts, cursing, hints at anxiety / overthinking, Missy being a villain (I’m so sorry it just fits the story okay?)

Word Count: 5.8k

Author’s Note: Thank you for the love on part one!! Part three is already in the works if y’all want it??

You’d spent the whole weekend with Spencer after that. You cooked dinner together on Saturday night and bickered over when the pasta was done cooking. You watched his favourite movie and then made him watch yours. And on Sunday, you went to watch the sunrise over the water and then spent the rest of the day cuddled in bed. Spencer kissed you at every opportunity, like he was reminding you more and more that this was real. You still got nervous at the contact, still weren’t exactly sure if you were doing it right or if it felt as good for him as it did for you. But he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

“I should really go back to mine,” You mumble, laying between his legs with your back pressed against his chest as he played video games.

He was propped up against the headboard, pausing the game when you speak.

“A few more hours won’t hurt,” He leans down to kiss your cheek.

“Yes, it will,” You laugh, “I’ve still not done my homework for tomorrow, and I need to be home at least some point this weekend.”

He grumbles and tightens his grip around you, “Homework can wait.”

You hum, tilting your head to peck his lips quickly, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He groans, kissing you once more before releasing his grip on you.

Spencer gets up and walks you down the stairs, even standing at the door to watch you walk the few steps over to your house. He only closes the door when he sees you go inside.

If you thought about it briefly, this entire weekend felt like a fever dream. How had you gone from Friday to now? On Friday, you’d been preparing for your first date, with a guy you’d known for a week, your first experience of anything like this. And in the past two days, Spencer had shown you so much of what you felt like you’d been missing. Kissing you, holding you, making you feel like you were worthy of every piece of affection. Your heart seemed to backflip at the thought, the idea that this was reality.

“There she is!” It’s your Mum who speaks up as soon as you enter the house, “I’d have started to get worried if you were any further away than next door.”

You laugh, “Yeah, sorry, I thought I should come home at least once before the weekend’s over.”

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re young, you’re supposed to be out all the time,” She chuckles, “This is what we’re meant to be putting up with as parents.”

You’d always been close with your parents, mainly because they never had much to worry about. You got good grades, you were always home on time, you helped out around the house, you were never one to be out late partying or off somewhere they didn’t know. You were too much of a golden girl to be a worry for them. If anything, your Mum was a little relieved to see you doing something at least slightly out of character.

“So, Spencer?” She raises her brows at you, “Little Spec that you used to have sleepovers with, Spec that drives you to school every day. When did this happen?”

“Um,” You clear your throat, scratching at the back of your neck, “I don’t know, it’s new. I actually don’t know wh- I don’t know.”

“Oh I don’t understand you young kids these days,” She shakes her head, “Are you dating are you not dating? I’ll never understand it.”

“I should go and do my work before tomorrow,” You excuse yourself, making your way upstairs to your own room.

The curtains are open and so are Spencer’s across the way. He’s sat back on his bed still playing the same game he’d been playing before you left, fully engrossed in the screen.

Do your work!!

You send the text and set your phone down onto your desk, glancing through the window once more to see him smile down at the words on his screen. He looks up to you through the window then and his lips curl into an even brighter smile. You feel your heart flip once more.

———

The following morning, Spencer is waiting in the car like he always is for you. You hurry down and get into the passenger seat, dropping your bag onto the back seats,

“Good morning, doll,” He smiles when he sees you, leaning over to kiss you quickly, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, ready,” You nod, plugging your phone into the aux.

You’d done this same journey a million times with Spencer. And yet something felt so different about being sat next to him now. He wasn’t just the boy you’d grown up with now, he was your first kiss, your first date, the first time you’d stayed over at a guys house, the first boy you were talking to your Mum about. He was filling in so many firsts.

In that moment, however, you have the realisation that none of those were yet to be firsts for him. He’d had plenty of kisses in his time, had more than enough dates, had a number of girls stay over at his house, his Mum had even met Missy. He’d done all of those things before he’d done them with you. And that was okay. You couldn’t exactly be annoyed at him for experiencing those things before you. What mattered that it was you now. Right? But what if those other girls had been better than you? What if they’d kissed better or been prettier or been more confident or…

“Where’s that head gone?” Spencer speaks over your overthinking, “Because if you’re about to start talking to me about your math homework I’m pulling the car over.”

“No, no, I’m just-“ You half-laugh, looking over to him, “Nothing.”

He smiles, keeping his eyes focused on the road as he moves his hand from the gearstick to instead rest on your thigh, his thumb smoothing over the bare skin below the cut-off of your shorts.

Your skin tingles beneath his touch, seemingly another first for you. But how many girls had sat in this seat? How many girls had he made that same move with? You swallow the lump in your throat and try to ignore it.

———

Spencer parks up in his usual spot and you both get out of the car, him handing you your bag as you do.

“Okay, I’ll see you at the end of the day,” You nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“What are you talking about?” He laughs, reaching for your hand and interlocking your fingers, “Come on, come say hi to the guys, at least stay with us until first period.”

“I-“ You frown, “I never see you much in school.”

He laughs again, turning around to face you, “Got somewhere better to be, (Y/l/n)?”

“I- no,” You smile, following alongside him as he walks you over to the wall where a group of the boys were sat.

You didn’t recognise any of them, apart from Ant. The only other two you’d known were Dusty and Malakai but both of them had left now. Ant is sat with another girl, Harper, and she smiles when she sees you.

“Morning boys,” Spider says, “You all know (Y/n), right?”

“Yeah how’s it going (Y/n)? You’re never with us in the morning,” Ant points out, smiling so you knew he didn’t mean it rudely.

“Yeah Ant’s brain will probably combust if he’s with more than one girl at once, right buddy?” Spencer hits his leg and takes a seat on the wall opposite them.

This spot used to be an old bike park but too many kids got their wheels slashed so Woodsy gave up on the idea of having one. Now, it was just three walls all perpendicular to each other, with the remains of metal railings in the centre. You hop up onto the spot beside Spencer and he leans one of his arms around the back of you - not necessarily around you, just resting there as if he wanted to reassure you.

“How come you weren’t out on Friday Spider?” One of the guys asks him.

“I…” Spider glances at you and then back to the group, “Something came up.”

Harper looks at you across the way and smiles. She must be able to tell you’re nervous. You’re not sure if you should speak or let the others do the talking. Should you be making it more obvious that something was going on with Spencer? Were they all going to question him on it as soon as you left?

“Well, you should’ve been there.”

“Yeah, man, you missed a good party.”

They all go into explaining something that had happened at the party and you try to pick up on names you might recognise. Someone mentions Missy and you feel your chest tighten, a strange reaction, you think.

“Hey (Y/n), I think we have first period together,” Harper mentions, “Maths right? Do you want to walk over?”

“Yeah, yeah sure,” You nod, reaching for your bag.

You hop down from the wall and watch as Harper turns to kiss Ant before she leaves. Oh god. Should you do the same to Spencer. You turn around and look at him and he smiles.

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Um, yeah, okay,” You nod, “See you.”

He didn’t make a move to kiss you. But, then again, neither did you. Maybe you should have done. Will his friends think you were weird if you didn’t?

“Sorry, thought you might just want to get away from that boy talk for a while,” Harper leans in to say to you quietly as you’re both walking away, “You and Spencer are a thing then?”

“Oh, um,” You shrug, “Yeah, I guess so, it’s new so I don’t know.”

“You guys have been friends for like ever though right?” She points out, “He mentions you all the time.”

“He does?”

“Oh yeah,” Harper laughs, “Ant was telling me the other week the boys ask for lifts off Spider all the time and he always refuses. They call you his ‘golden girl’. I’m honestly surprised it took him this long to make a move.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, suppressing a smile that you’d save for when you mentioned this to Spider later, “Yeah, I didn’t think anything would ever happen with us. But I’m glad it has.”

You walk through to class with her and go to sit with your friends on the table near the front. They ask you about your weekend and oddly enough you can’t bring yourself to mention anything about Spencer. What would you say? You knew a few of them silently judged him and that entire group for everything. They were so different to you guys. They were loud and outgoing and disruptive. And you guys got your work in on time and spoke about plans for after school or what the latest book you were reading was. They were… just different. And so you liked the idea of keeping the two things separate for a while. At least whilst you were still figuring out what exactly was going on with you and Spencer. You didn’t want to ask for fear of the answer not being what you desired.

———

By the middle of the day, you’re leaving your class for lunch. Your few friends walk out with you and go to turn down the corridor towards your lockers but, as you step out of the room, you’re stopped by someone else.

“Last out of class, I shouldn’t be surprised,” Spencer comments as his hand stops your wrist in motion, “Ready to go to lunch?”

The girls turn around and look at you with a frown, looking between you and him and then down to where his hand still held you.

“Um, I’ll catch up with you guys later,” You smile to them, turning around to Spencer before you can catch sight of their disapproving faces.

“I don’t think you’ve ever introduced me to your friends,” Spencer points out, “Do they know about me?”

“Everyone knows about you,” You laugh, “You’re not exactly known for being incognito around school. In fact, I’m pretty sure you hit one of them with a cake once when you started that food fight after the elections.”

He grimaces, “Yeah, might have to apologise for that one if I want to get in their good books.”

You like the idea of him wanting to impress your friends, the idea that he’d want them to like him. It makes you feel like there is some sort of permanence to this. Some sort of longevity that stretched beyond one perfect weekend.

“Here, you can put your stuff in my locker,” He mentions, taking your books from your arms, “I won’t let you forget it.”

Spencer closes the locker and then continues his walk beside you, his hand brushing yours every so often until his fingers lace with your own. Every little contact from him seemed like a gentle reminder that you really weren’t dreaming this. This was really happening.

You both wait in line to get your food and he places a hand on your back to let you go ahead of him. You still tingle under the touch. He asks you how your days been and tells you he’s thought of another film you need to watch. You ask him if he listened to the song you’d sent him last night and he said he’d already added it to his playlist.

He points out a table over in the corner and the two of you go over, sitting opposite each other.

“So this is technically our first meal out together,” You point out, pushing the rice around your plate, “You’re practically taking me out for dinner.”

“I always thought it would be more romantic than this,” Spider laughs, his leg brushing yours under the table.

“So you’ve thought about it.”

“Well I mean I-“

“There you are!”

Within moments, you’re interrupted by Spider’s friends clambering around the table. Ant sits down next to you and smiles, throwing down a wrapped sandwich and a bag of chips and a can of soda.

“Don’t mind if we join you, do you?” One of the boys sits beside Spider and nudges his arm.

“Um,” Spencer clears his throat, “Course not.”

He looks over to you but you’re already distracted by the chorus of conversation that starts up beside you.

Was this normal? The new normal? If you wanted to see Spencer did you have to spend all this time with his friends too? They seemed okay. But they were talking about a game you didn’t know, and another one of them brought up a school trip that was happening tomorrow. They all seem to speak over each other and yet all manage to understand. You eat your food, not really adding much to the conversation but smiling and nodding so that you at least looked like you were engaged. You wanted to be back with your friends in that moment - they’d be talking to you about a new film that they wanted to see, or a new album that was coming out and you’d agree and have something to actually input into the conversation. You could actually be part of the chorus. But right now you felt like a bystander.

———

Spencer drives you home, of course, and this time he comes round to your house instead of you parting ways at the car.

“I’m back Mum!” You call out as you step inside, tossing your keys into the bowl near the front door.

“Oh hello darling!” She beams when she sees you, “And Spencer! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I heard you were making burgers, I’m just here for the burgers,” He grins, “It’s good to see you.”

“Im sure you get taller every time I see you, and you’re only over the way,” She smiles up at him, “Well you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner, as long as you help me open the pickles. I was going to wait for Dad to get home but now you’re here you can try.”

“Of course,” Spencer smiles, disappearing into the kitchen.

“I knew it would happen eventually,” Your Mum turns to you with a smile on her face, one that reminded you of your own, “I knew it!”

You roll your eyes, “Oh stop it Mum. It’s still new, we’re just… seeing how it goes.”

“Got them!” Spencer steps back out into the hallway, “I left the jar on the counter.”

“Oh thank you darling,” Your Mum smiles, “Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

“Should we…?” Spencer looks at you.

“Yeah let’s go,” You go up the stairs and he follows behind you up into your bedroom.

It was a bedroom of magnolia walls, one of which was covered in displayed vinyl covers, a vinyl player on a table in the corner beside your desk. Your bed was against the same wall as the window and Spencer sits down onto the edge of it as you set your bag down and check your appearance in the mirror above your vanity.

“It feels weird to do the whole ‘meeting the parents thing’ when I already know her,” Spencer mentions, flicking through the pages of the book you’d left on your bed, “Less nerve wracking.”

“Is it normally worse than that?” You ask, “Because that still seemed pretty uncomfortable."

"What do you mean? She loves me!"

"I dont know I just-" You shake your head, "I don't know what to say when people ask me about us. Harper asked about it earlier and I just don't know what I'm supposed to say."

"Well, there’s nothing you’re supposed to say,” He shrugs, “It’s up to you.”

“I think it’s up to you too,” You point out, stepping towards him.

When you’re close enough, he reaches his hands out to draw you in between his legs, looking up at you as you stand there, “Just tell them we’re seeing each other. That’s enough to shut them up.”

“Are we? I mean… are we seeing each other?” Your cheeks are heating up again.

Spencer squints at you, “Yeah I think I can see you.”

You hit at his chest, “You know what I mean.”

He hums and moves his hands around to the back of your thighs, guiding you onto his lap, your thighs straddling either side of his, “Yeah, I think we are,” He mumbles close to your lips, planting a kiss there.

You smile against his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck. He holds his hands on your waist, deepening the kiss. You still weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, but you let him take the lead. You just let instinct take over. Spencer moves one hand to your back as if he wants to draw you impossibly closer to him. He smiles against your lips and shifts just enough to lift you up, guiding you down onto the mattress. Your head drops down to the pillow, hair splaying behind you. He’s hovering over you, hand gripping your hip as yours grip his shoulders, him dipping down to kiss you again. There’s contact and friction and the unfamiliar feeling of his weight on top of you. And something in your brain seems to ignite in that moment.

“Spencer,” You whisper, feeling your heartbeat pound against your chest, averting your eyes away from his gaze, “I don’t want to- I don’t-“

He stops in his movements, his hand still on your waist, looking down at you until your eyes meet his, “(Y/n), I didn’t- you know that’s okay, right?”

He shifts his weight until he drops down to the mattress beside you, leaning up onto his elbow so that he doesn’t lose your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything,” He assures you, “I’m not in any rush.”

You look at him for a second and take a deep breath, “But I know you’ve… you know, you’ve done all of that before. Isn’t it weird for you if I don’t want to do any of that yet?”

He shakes his head instantly, “Absolutely not.”

There’s a tightness in your chest and for some reason, the longer he looks at you the more you feel like you’re going to cry under his focus. You can feel your bottom lip threatening to tremble.

“(Y/n) you’ve not done this before. You’re not supposed to know what to do or how to act or what to say - it’s okay to figure all of that out. I just want you to feel like you can tell me when things aren’t what you want, okay?” He holds your hand in his, “And if you ever feel like you can’t tell me, that’s when we’ve got a problem we need to fix.”

You smile and nod at him, not sure of any words that fit the moment, not sure of any words that you could get out without your voice breaking.

“Okay, can I kiss you now?” He smiles at you, leaning in and pausing just inches from your lips.

When you nod, he kisses you softly with a smile on his face. You feel your heart skip the same way it had done after your first kiss.

———

Your Mum was surprisingly relaxed about you and Spencer being together. She didn’t even think twice about saying he should stay the night. Maybe she was just happy to see you happy. Or maybe her old dreams for you were finally becoming a reality and she just wanted to hold onto it. You eat dinner with your parents and then watch a film with them downstairs before Spencer’s eyes start to slowly lose their energy and you tell your parents you should probably go to bed. He used a spare toothbrush and waited for you in the bathroom whilst you got unready, he sat on the toilet and read the ingredients of your skincare - stumbling over the complex spellings. He followed you out and back into your bedroom, closing the door behind him gently.

“Okay, full transparency, I normally sleep naked,” He raises his hands as if he’s surrendering the information.

You laugh, “Well, thanks for telling me.”

“But I can sacrifice that freedom for tonight and at least wear boxers,” He nods, pulling off his t-shirt and hanging it over your desk chair.

He’s toned and his muscles seem even more so defined in the dim light. His shoulders are broad and seem to contort so intensely that it makes the soft features of his face look almost misplaced on him.

“Are you staring at me, (Y/n)?” He grins, stepping towards you.

“Just-“ You swallow the lump in your throat, “Looking.”

“Looking?” He cocks a brow, wrapping his arms around your waist as soon as you’re within reach.

He buries his face into your neck, planting a soft kiss into the crook before tightening his arms and lifting you from the ground. You let out an involuntary squeal and wrap your arms around him as he carries you over to the bed, planting you down on the side closest to the wall before dropping down onto the mattress beside you. His arm is already outstretched, waiting for you to tuck in against his chest. You lay there and feel his heart under your head, swirling patterns with the tip of your finger around the bare skin of his torso.

“So I wanted to ask you something,” You take a breath, “How does this all work now? Like… if we’re… whatever we are… how does it work at school?”

“Do you mean with lunch? I’m sorry they all came over and sat with us, it’s just a force of habit and they probably didn’t think anything of it but-“

“No, it’s okay,” You say softly, looking down at a crease in the sheets on your bed, “I just mean in general - lunch, classes, before school - if we’re… i mean, should i be with you the whole time?”

“Do you not want to be?” He chuckles, “Because if I’m keeping you from-“

You lean up onto your elbow and roll your eyes, “That’s not what I meant!”

He laughs again, brushing your hair back over your shoulder, “There’s no rule book, (Y/n). I want to see you as much as I can but that doesn’t mean you should be worried about having to spend all this time with my friends too.”

“I know but like… Harper’s with you guys,” You shrug, your index finger drawing circles on his chest, “Would they think it’s weird if I’m not with you?”

He leans up just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, dropping back down onto the pillow before he says, “They can think whatever they want.”

He tightens his arm around you and pulls you back into him, wrapping both of his arms around your body in a tight embrace.

“We should get some sleep,” You mumble into him, arm draped over his torso.

It was strange to you how quickly you settled into contact with Spencer. You’d never done anything like this. And yet when he held you, when he touched you, it felt like it was just natural. It wasn’t as scary as you thought it would all be. Sure, some parts of it still were. But you weren’t as scared as before.

———

The following morning, Spencer leaves early to go and pack a bag. There was a school trip this week - in these cabins in the woods, surrounding a vast lake. All of your year group were going and more often than not it was an opportunity to hide drink and add to the complex web of gossip that already existed. You were almost packed anyway, putting the last couple of bits in, a book for when you got bored, a notebook and a few pens, an extra outfit just in case.

He texts you to make sure he’s not forgetting anything and then you go downstairs to meet him. He drives with his hand on your leg, singing along to the throwback playlist you’d queued. He pulls into his parking space and the bus is already waiting as students file on. His friends are still hanging around outside, yelling at him to come over when they see him get out of the car.

“I think I’m going to meet my friends on the bus,” You mention as you’re walking over, feeling a little nervousness in your voice, “Is that okay?”

Spencer looks at you and smiles, “Of course it is.”

He glances at his friends momentarily and then leans in to kiss you softly - it was quick but he didn’t rush, squeezing your hand before he heads over towards the boys. One of them swings his arm over Spencer’s shoulders, saying something incoherent before glancing over at you and grinning. You make your way onto the bus and go to sit in the few seats your friends were already occupying. They ask you if the Spencer White had seriously just kissed you outside and then complain at you for not telling them sooner. They weren’t as judgy as you’d expected. More surprised. They want to know how it happened, when it happened, was he a good kisser?

Spencer and his friends all pile into the bus and stumble over each other to get to their seats. They’re loud and take up space and your friends seem to exchange a glance between each other that they’re almost hiding from you. Like they want to complain but figure you’re not the one to complain to.

Spencer sits in the seat behind you and your friend, Ant sitting in one of the seats opposite as the other boys fill in the space. Missy and Sasha walk on, taking the row behind Spencer. You realise this is the first time you’d properly seen her since you and Spencer had got together. You hadn’t thought about it enough, clearly. But when you see her sit down you feel your stomach turn a little. She’d done all of this before. With Spider. Had he done all of the same things with her? Had he taken her to the same spot to swim? Had he fallen asleep watching a film with her? Had he kissed her the same way? She might’ve been better than you were, too. She was more experienced. She knew more of what to do, probably more confident in doing it too.

“So, our boy Spider’s in for a fun trip,” Ant wiggles his brows at his friend, “Should we be expecting a pregnancy by the end of the week?”

“Fuck off Ant,” Spencer returns quickly, and it’s as if you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Come on, I’d be a good uncle!” Ant defends.

You glance over your shoulder and see Spencer laughing at him, a bright smile on his face. He turns over to you and rolls his eyes, his smile not faltering. You feel the heat in your cheeks again.

“Spider with a kid?” Missy laughs outwardly, “He’d give up after a few months, might not even make it to the birth.”

“Yeah I think Spider could be used as an example of why contraception is a good thing,” Sasha adds.

You turn around a little, like you want to tune into the conversation. They thought so little of him.

“I wouldn’t speak so soon, our boy’s married off now,” Ant raises his hands and he looks at you with a smile like he is reminding you he means well.

Harper hits at his arm as she sits down as if hoping it would take back what he just said. She looks at you and shakes her head.

“Married off? To who?” Missy persists.

“(Y/n).”

One of the boys says it but you don’t know which one. You feel your stomach churn again and that strange sort of numbness in your body where you wish you could just disappear into the seat beneath you. You didn’t like being the centre of attention like this. And it seemed to be a new common occurrence now that you were with Spencer.

“(Y/n)?” Missy doesn’t laugh but she might as well do, like it’s the most surprising news she’s heard, “You must be joking.”

Nobody says anything at first. And you feel the urge to get up and pretend this had nothing to do with you. You could just go back to being invisible, to existing away from the conversations of these people. To no longer be a topic of their discussion.

“Why would that be a joke?”

Even when you say the words you’re convinced they haven’t come from you. Surely not. You wouldn’t say anything. You would just sit there and not say anything. But you had done. And now even more eyes seemed to be on you.

You turn around and Missy is looking at you directly. Her arms are folded, her head cocked to the side, her eyebrows raised just slightly as if she’s analysing you.

“You’re smart, right?” She shrugs, “Shouldn’t take you long to figure it out.”

You don’t say anything more, turning back to the front of the bus. Your friends look at you but dont say anything and you feel Spencer move behind you as if he’s going to say something. But he doesn’t. He sinks back into this seat and the boys carry on a conversation like nothing has happened.

———

You’re in assigned rooms for the trip. And it’s just your luck, isn’t it? You, Harper, Amerie and Missy.

“Well, this looks cosy,” Amerie says as the four of you step into the room.

It’s a typical cabin bedroom, walls of wooden slats and a roof just the same. A wooden floor decorated with an aged carpet rug that was fraying at either end. There’s a window on the far side, a single pane that looks like it could be made of plastic. It looks out over to the water, seemingly a redeemable feature of the setting. There are two bunk beds, one either side of the room, either side of the window. The mattresses are thin, the pillows even thinner, blankets folded in a square on the ends of the bed beside a rolled up towel.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Missy grumbles, dropping her bag down onto one of the bed, “This can’t get any worse.”

“Yeah, it can’t,” You mumble, sitting down on the opposite mattress.

Missy looks over at you as she sits down, taking a deep breath.

“Missy, don’t start something,” Harper says quickly, glancing at you with a sympathetic furrow between her brows.

“I just-“ Missy raises her hands as if gesturing that she came in peace, “I want to know what Spider’s told you. I mean, I dated that guy. I know what he’s like. What’s changed that he’s suddenly got to you?”

“Got to me?” You frown, “What do you mean?”

“He spoke about you a lot and when i asked him about it he said you two were just friends or whatever,” She shrugs, “Like, he told you he could never imagine seeing you like that.”

“Missy,” Harper’s voice is more of a warning tone now, like she can see exactly where this is going and what’s to end up ahead of it.

“Im just saying, he used to tell me he felt sorry for you - so is that what this is? This is just him feeling really, really sorry for you?”

You feel a lump form in your throat and you can’t figure out the right way to respond. What could you say? What did she want you to say?

Before you can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door. Amerie goes over to open it, mumbling something about it being a relief that something would break the tension.

“Fucking terrible timing Spider,” She winces, stepping aside at the doorway as if opening up the room.

You look over and he’s stood there. His hair is flopping on either side of his forehead, the smile on his face faltering at the sight. You and Missy sat opposite each other, your mouth empty of any words and your eyes brimming just enough with tears that hadn’t fallen. That lump still in your throat making it feel like it was impossible to breathe.

“(Y/n)?” He frowns, glancing between the girls as if he’s hoping at least one of them will give him an answer, “What’s happened?”

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

sos smp is going great guys (transcript under the cut)

Oli: I was just telling them how- how-

Sausage: Huh?

Oli: I'm not- they were like "Be PG!" and I was like "You watch Sausage and you ask me to be PG?"

Sausage: I am PG, what're you talking about?

Oli: Sausage, I've- we've all seen the salmon.

Sausage: What're you talking about, "the salmon"?

Oli: Why do you think the salmon is funny, Sausage?

Sausage: [overlapping, taking out a noteblock] This guy?

Oli: Yeah, that guy.

Sausage: [placing a salmon head on the noteblock] Why do I think this is funny?

Oli: Yeah.

[Sausage starts hitting the noteblock, it makes the sound of a Minecraft salmon flopping out of water repeatedly. This plays for the rest of the interaction.]

Oli: [overlapping] Yeah, could you explain the co- could you explain the joke?

Sausage: [overlapping] It's a funny n- It's a funny sound! It's a funny sound!

Oli: [overlapping] Yeah, but could you explain why it's funny?

Sausage: [overlapping] It [unintelligable]

Oli: [overlapping] Lovely h- lovely hog behind you, fella. Lovely hog.

Sausage: Oh, yeah, do you have- do you have good cinematography? Do you have a good angle on my booties?

Oli: [overlapping] Oh, I do, I've got you nicely in the background, yeah, yeah.

Sausage: Ok, yes. The reason that I love this sound, Oli, is that it reminds me of my childhood.

Oli: Of your- [music stops] What?

[They both laugh]

Oli: Sorry?

[Music starts again]

Sausage: Yes! Growing up, y'know, I come home from school, I'm like a 13-14 year old boy, coming home from school, watching a little bit of TV in the background-

Oli: [overlapping] TV, yeah.

Sausage: Waiting for my mum to come to pick me up from, uh, from work. Y'know? And I'm- I'm at my grandma's house, I'm just hanging out. Door closed, she's in the other room, just watching her telenovelas, right? Her little Spanish soap operas.

Oli: [overlapping] Of course, of course. Très bien!

Sausage: And I'm just, y'know, in my room, nothing to do. I'm there- Just- I pick up a, uh, like a nice magazine or something, and I just start going through and just looking through it. [Music stops] And- uh- and then- [stuttering] Just one thing leads to another and leads to another and I have to go take a shower that.

Oli: [laughs]

Sausage: And then I go- and I go home.

Oli: [overlapping] Yeah? Cause you spilt your Pepsi. You spilt your Pepsi Max. [Music restarts]

Sausage: I spilt- I spilt my juice, my juice, all over my bed.

Oli: [overlapping] Your juice! Your delicious juice!

Sausage: All over my bed, Oli!

Oli: I can't stop them, chat, you know I can't stop him, chat. You- You've been in his streams! He can't be stopped! I just have to let him run! I just have to let him run his bit until it's too late and then what? Then what? What am I supposed to do? I'm sorry- to- to all of the chats watching. But what am I supposed to do about him? I can't- He's got more subscribers, he gets to choose what happens here. I don't have the power to stop him!

[Sausage is laughing the whole time Oli talks]

[ericshoney]

Skipping School ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Your friends pressure you into skipping school with them for your brothers to be at the mall at the same time, catching you out.

Warnings: swearing, peer pressure, teasing, nicknames, slight angst, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh come on you little goody too shoes, skip once."

You were sat with your friends at school. They were talking about going to the mall. Not at the weekend, now. Whilst you were suppose to be at school.

"What if something happens?" You asked.

"Nothing will happen, your being dumb."

You knew Nick, Matt and Chris were home in Boston for a bit and had promised you they'd take you out for dinner tonight and a late night drive as it was Friday.

With a bit more peer pressure, you caved. You had a free period last anyways so it couldn't hurt, right? And it wasn't like you'd see your brothers....right?

So you along with three of your friends, left school, heading to the mall. You kept looking back, waiting for the moment of a teacher to shout at you, but it never happened.

"Stop worrying so much."

You sighed as the four of you made it to the mall. You first went and got some food, eating and joking. You slowly started to relax, it was all going well.

"Let's go in there!"

You followed your friends into the chosen store, looking at some stuff. You weren't going to buy anything because you know you'd get questioned. You just followed your friends around, giving them your opinion if they asked.

Again, it was going well. You felt at ease as you walked around the mall. You thought it wasn't going to go wrong. Until you saw them.

Nick, Matt and Chris.

Your brothers were walking right towards you, laughing and joking as they carried many bags.

"Shit." You cursed, ducking behind your friends as you kept walking.

But your brothers were sharp. They could spot their little sister from a mile away. You kept your head down as you walked, until you bumped into someone.

"Hey kid." Nick called.

"Oh h-hey Nick." You called.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Oh umm, shopping?" You replied.

"Your supposed to be at school." He said.

"Right." You whispered.

You looked up for your friends who had long gone, making your eyes well up with tears. How could they just leave you?

"No, no don't cry, sweetheart." Matt said, rubbing your shoulder.

"They left me. It was their fucking idea and they left me!" You shouted.

"Shh kid." Chris cooed as he pulled you into a hug.

"Let's go sit somewhere and you can explain yourself. Depending on what you say, we'll see if we tell mum and dad." Nick suggested.

You nodded as you walked with Chris' arm around your shoulder, to a little coffee shop. Nick ordered you all drinks before sitting down at the back.

"Alright kid, spill." Nick said as you all sat down.

You then explained everything. How it was your friend's idea to come here and skip. The peer pressure and teasing. As you told them everything, your brothers didn't look happy which worried you.

"I skipped a free period." You added.

"Well. Let's start simple, sweetheart." Chris said.

"Your friends are assholes." Nick said.

"Yeah." You agreed.

"We're not that mad, petal. Slightly disappointed that you still went along with it, but we understand peer pressure." Matt said.

"I'm sorry." You apologised, playing with the straw in your drink.

"We won't tell mum and dad." Nick replied.

"And we'll still take you out tonight." Matt added.

"But you gotta find some better friends." Chris said.

"There's a girl and guy in my science class, they are pretty cool." You responded.

"Then hang out with them!" Nick exclaimed.

You nodded and were glad your brothers weren't angry and knew you'd make some new friends on Monday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@mattsfavbigtitties @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @sturniolo-fann @riowritesitall

[its-time-to-write]

i think we could do it if we tried

So I misread a prompt, and didn’t realize until halfway through the fic. This was the result and it ended up being weirdly personal? If you hate it or think it’s unrealistic, I know, it’s just wishful thinking, ok?😭

i think we could do it if we tried

You’re sure Jamie’s expression will be burned into your mind forever. After all, you’re the one who put it there. 

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” you say, tears streaming down your face, “I’m the one who’s breaking up with you.”

Jamie just laughs wetly. “Not your fault, though, is it?”

That just makes you cry harder. 

You and Jamie had been friends for a long time, and he’d been in love with you forever. You didn’t return the feeling until you turned eighteen. It was on your birthday, actually. He had insisted on wearing a birthday hat all day, despite that fact that he was at training and you were at home, so you didn’t see each other until the end of the day. Something about seeing the sparkly cone on his head did something to your heart, and there it was; you loved him. 

You suppose the love was always there, lying dormant, but now it had arisen. It took you a week to muster up the courage to tell him, but you did and now it felt like the world made sense. 

Now, a month later, you’re breaking up with him. 

Jamie had been playing football for a while now, and he was really, really good. You were beginning your studies as an undergrad and had your life mapped out until grad school. He was moving away soon and you were leaving tomorrow, but that wasn’t the reason you were breaking up. 

It’s because your parents didn’t approve. 

“I can’t make them understand,” you tell Jamie, willing yourself not to cry. “And… I know I’m eighteen, but they’re paying for university. They said they’d pay all the way through grad school, and I can’t afford it on my own.”

Jamie nods and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“God, it’s fuckin’ shitty, ain’t it?” he says. “Me ‘n you, finally figuring it out too late.”

You can only nod and sniff. Your parents told you that Jamie was a good friend, but nothing more. 

“You’re only projecting feelings onto him because you know he likes you,” your mum had said. “And besides, he plays football. Can’t support a family on that, can you?”

Any protests you made fell on deaf ears. Your parents never explicitly said they’d pull their financial support, but it was hinted. It hung in the air, poisoning the atmosphere in the house. Your mother’s displeasure saturated the building, affecting everyone inside. 

So here you are, standing in the dim light of Jamie’s mum’s porch, breaking up with him at 10pm. 

He knew it was coming, too. 

“Y’know I’d never want you to put your life on hold for me, yeah?” he’d said two days earlier. 

You just nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about quitting football,” he continued, “Get a real job, stay closer.”

You had protested vehemently. He loved football, and he was good, like really good, and how could you ask him to give it up?

So yeah, it wasn’t a total blindside. 

Still hurt, though. 

You stood there, a long time, without speaking. You were memorizing each other’s faces and the way it felt being together for the last time. 

There’s a light on in Georgie’s room, and you wonder if she’ll still love you despite the fact you broke her baby’s heart. 

Jamie finally breaks the silence. “You should go,” he says, “before your parents figure out you’re gone.”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just reach out and squeeze his hand. He pulls you in for a hug, the tightest one you’ve ever received, and you never want to let go. But you do. 

You fight the urge to say I’ll wait for you. I’ll find you when I’m done with school. We’ll make it work. But you don’t want to give him false hope. You don’t want to hurt him more than you already have. 

So instead, you whisper “I love you, Jamie Tartt,” and force yourself to walk away. 

— 

That was six years ago. You pushed yourself through school, got out with your BA in three and a half years, and scraped through your MA in two. There were times it felt a little like hell, but you persevered. 

You’re pretty sure the worst moment was during your third year, when your roommate, a football aficionado, started talking about Man City’s hotshot new player.  

“Oh my god, he’s like, so fucking sexy. The things he does on the pitch… he’s like, revolutionized the game.”

“Hm,” you say noncommittally, lost in a textbook. 

“Yeah, heard he’s a bit of a prick though. Grew up in Manchester, and he’s about our age. D’you reckon you knew him?”

“What?” you say, finally lifting your eyes from the page. “I didn’t grow up in Manchester, just lived there when I was a teenager.”

Your roommate shrugs. “Did you know a ‘Jamie Tartt?’ Dating Keeley Jones?”

And there it was. The worst moment of your whole university career. 

You turn back to your book in order to hide your face. “Doesn’t sound familiar,” you say, and your roommate doesn’t push it. She’s too busy telling you how Jamie and Keeley are the hottest, most perfect couple she’s ever seen. 

You’re past that now. It still feels like a stabbing pain every time you hear his name or see his face on a screen, but for the most part, you’ve shut down that part of your brain. 

You might have shut it down a little too successfully. 

In the last six years, you’ve been in exactly two relationships. Both short-lived, both leaving you with a sense of apathy. 

But, your parents approved of both of them. Didn’t matter that they were shallow, self-absorbed dickheads; “He’s cute and has a good job!” your mum had said, oblivious to the fact that she was replaying the exact same pitch to you from before. 

You had felt a rush of relief when the news hit that Jamie and Keeley had broken up. You hated hearing about all his escapades, and how much he hurt her. It made your heart ache, knowing he was burying himself in his prickish attitude the same way you were burying yourself in yours. 

Well, maybe that’s too harsh. You aren’t a prick per se, you’re just… cold. Emotionless. You felt very little this days, because every time you felt the tiniest bit of anything, everything threatened to overwhelm you. 

After school, you just… kept moving. No sense in going home, you loved your family but they made you feel like you were drowning. And you couldn’t make yourself go back to Manchester. 

Georgie called you from time to time, checking up on you. Turns out she didn’t hate you. She was actually rather worried. She never, ever mentioned Jamie. 

“You can’t just stop living life, love,” she had said one time. “That’s all it is: love and loss. You just keep moving forward.”

You took her advice literally, securing a good job that allowed you to work remotely. You moved to the east side of London, West Ham, but were never at your flat longer than a week. After all, you were hot and had a good job. Why not travel? You had no strings keeping you anywhere. 

Now you’re back in West Ham for two weeks, getting ready to go to Barcelona. A friend has a timeshare that she can’t make it to, so you volunteered to go. After all, it’s better to be apathetic in Barcelona than it is in West Ham, right?

Whatever the case, you’re here for much longer than you’d like to be, but you’re going to make the best of it. You have a friend from uni who lives near you, so you’re going out tonight. She wants to go to some upscale restaurant a couple minutes from your flat with a few other girls, and you decide that you’d rather not be alone tonight.

You don’t mention that it’s your birthday. You stopped celebrating them at nineteen.

Your hair and makeup are done, you’ve put together an appropriate fancy-dinner outfit, and you’d say you’re looking classy. You grab your bag and head out the door.

It’s only a ten-minute walk, and there are all kinds of people out. You wonder why, then remember it’s Saturday. That explains it. 

There’s an especially rowdy bunch of guys up ahead, seemingly corralled by a middle-aged man with a mustache. As you draw closer, you hear his accent. American, specifically mid-Western. You breeze by them, catching snatches of their conversations and a mix of accents.

Your ear tunes into someone saying, “…not what really happened,” with an accent that reminds you so much of Jamie’s, you find yourself rooted to your spot in the sidewalk, turning around to confirm that it is not, in fact, him.

You make eye contact with the middle-aged mustached man, who smiles at you and shrugs. “Footballers. What a rowdy bunch,” he says, “Wonder where their coach’s at?”

You surmise by his jocular tone that he’s their coach.

You give him a small smile and he comes over to you. Your feet still won’t move, because you haven’t confirmed that the voice was not Jamie. Or maybe because this man is a gaffer, and you want him to say something, anything about possibly knowing Jamie Tartt.

“I’m Ted,” he says, sticking out his hand.

You shake it and give him your name. At this point, his team have noticed that their coach is talking to someone new, and they descend like a flock of curious children.

There’s a chorus of hellos and one hola, but it’s all a little lost because all you can hear is one soft, “hey.”

“Hi,” you breathe. 

One look into Jamie Tartt’s blue eyes and you’re a goner, even after six years.

Ted looks from you to Jamie. “Oh, do y’all know each other? Jamie, why didn’t you say something?”

“Dunno,” Jamie says, keeping his eyes on you.

Ted, great man that he is, assesses the situation with alarming perception.

“Alright boys, why don’t we let Jamie catch up with his lady-friend, and we’ll just text him where we end up, sound good?” 

It does not sound good to them, because they can tell something interesting is about to happen, but Ted and another bearded American herd them away and down the street, leaving you and Jamie alone on the sidewalk.

“How you been?” he asks, looking awkward as you feel.

“I’ve been…” what word is there to describe how you’ve been? You settle for a shrug.

He nods and huffs out a single chuckle. “Yeah, that about sums it up, don’t it?”

“What about you?” you ask, reaching out to lightly tap his arm. “Heard you were some hotshot footballer.”

Jamie imitates your shrug. “Heard you were some hotshot something or the other.”

You crack a small smile at that. “Georgie tell you?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, “Felt the need to keep me updated. Don’t fuckin’ know why though.”

That hurts a little bit. This is a mistake, you think. You begin to realize, perhaps for the first time, that your pining after him was pointless. And one-sided.

That is, until Jamie says so softly you almost miss it, “Happy birthday, by the way.”

There it is. 

You open your mouth to say, I love you, but what comes out instead is, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Jamie asks in surprise.

“I’m just… sorry. For everything. For walking away. I don’t know, I feel like I should have fought it or something… I think about you all the time. I wish that I would’ve done something different, I guess. I know I can’t change it, but…” you shrug helplessly. 

Jamie just looks at you, head tilted. 

You huff out an awkward laugh. “Anyway. I should probably go. Meeting a bunch of girls for drinks and dinner.”

“You hate that shit,” Jamie says, and it comes out the exact same way he would have said it six years ago. Like he’s comfortable with you, like he knows every single tick in your brain.

“I do,” you agree ruefully. “Just couldn’t get out of it, I guess. Didn’t have a good excuse.”

“Go out with me,” Jamie suggests, impulsively. But then, he was never one for forethought. 

Your mouth opens to decline, then shuts.

“You’re done with school, yeah?” Jamie continues, “Mum said you haven’t been home in ages. Said she knows more about you than your parents. What if… what if we gave it another go? We’re fuckin’ adults, ain’t we? Let’s just fucking try.”

He’s looking at you, so full of anxious hope that it makes you want to cry. You can feel a few tears fighting their way forward.

“Jamie,” you say, “Jamie I don’t know. I mean- I hurt you. I knew what I was doing would hurt you and I did it anyway. I could hurt you again.”

Jamie replies, “Weren’t your fault though, was it?” and you’re taken back so vividly to that front porch.

You look at him, really look at him for the first time in six years. He’s older, you realize, and you think that he must think something similar about you. He’s calmer, almost- gentler? Still the same Jamie though, with the blonde highlights and the slit in his eyebrow. Outrageous sense of fashion, one that is no longer dulled by the ominous presence of his father. He’s more sure of himself, you think, and you realize you’re more sure too.

There isn’t anything hanging over your head threatening to take your livelihood away.

It’s poetic, really. You, him, in the dim streetlight. Deciding to begin again exactly six years after it ended.

“Jamie,” you say again, because you love the way his name feels on your lips, “I didn’t ever stop loving you. I don’t ever want to stop loving you.”

He’s taken a step closer, and there’s mere centimeters between you. 

“Y’know I’d never want you to put your life on hold for me, right?” you whisper, “Been thinking about stopping traveling. Maybe settle down closer, focus on my job more.”

Jamie smiles. “Go out with me,” he says. “Skip your dinner. You’d have a shit time, anyway.”

You smile back and reach out for his hand. It still fits perfectly in yours. Maybe even better.

“I would love to.”

[cher-rei]

afterglow- pt 6 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff

[wc: 4.6K] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

notes: this chapter is a bit longer but it was so funny to write. and of course, it was sitting in my drafts for like 50 years... enjoy!

if someone were to ask you to pick between your mother and your father you wouldn't be able to answer the question, much like most people in the world. they both offered qualities you needed respectively and you were grateful to have them both in your life. kind of.

seeing as you spent most of your life in london, despite being born in liverpool you grew up with your mother and spent a solid 22 years in her presence with nowhere to go. you loved it in london, it was your home and you couldn't let it go. but what it lacked was your father— your best friend.

you were living with him right now because of the whole "alex has chicken pox" situation but you were welcomed home to a facetime from your nephew so that was fun. it was easier with your father, you didn't have to walk on eggshells around him, you could talk about anything and laugh about everything together and that's what you loved about him— his neverending support.

it started with taking you to football practice without your mother knowing, her thinking that he was accompanying you to weekly ballet. when instead, he'd have your kit in the car ready at all times, and supporting you from the sidelines all the way until high school.

and then when your mum was against your university major in marketing instead of law as you had "agreed" upon, your father took the drive from liverpool to london so that he could have a chat with her. and to your surprise she gave up and let you do as you pleased with much reluctance.

so when they got the divorce when you were 16 and he moved back to liverpool, the decision was seamless but you still stayed with your mother seeing as maya already had a job position on that side. after all, you couldn't leave your mother alone. the woman gave birth to you for crying out loud.

all that just for you to move to liverpool eventually because of a really bad break-up. which brought you to your current point— the one where your father wanted to wring every single man's neck no matter how they looked at you.

you felt like a teenager sneaking out like this but you had no other choice. you were going on a drive to lord knows where with a freaken football player, "the most unloyal men on this planet", as your father liked to say.

but of course, he had to catch you in the act, a look of confusion plastered on his face as he stood in the living room, getting ready for bed. "why are you walking around like you did something wrong?" he gasped at your guilty expression, "are you leaving me already? you're just like your mother."

your anxiety vanished in an instant at his joke, an attempt to get the truth out of you. "it's too late to be making jokes like that."

he crossed his arms over his chest. "and it's too late for you to be walking around the house like you're in the 'quiet place'. seriously jamie, why are you tiptoeing?"

you raised your hands in defence, "I thought you were sleeping. my bad for being considerate."

he let out an unconvinced hum and eyed you up and down. he took in the fact that you were in a pair of sweats and a navy blue zip-up hoodie. "you're not a teenager anymore." he shook his head and let out an amused chuckle.

you watched as he made his way to the kitchen and you couldn't help but follow behind him, "what's that supposed to mean?"

he didn't answer your question for a moment and continued to rummage through the fridge for something, happily taking out a box of doughnuts you two had bought earlier. "it means that you can leave the house when you want to. just tell me first."

it was times like this that you forgot you were an adult. to be fair you never really considered yourself to be one, or to act like one either. "oh." there was a moment of silence that passed but it was interrupted by your phone going off.

the way that you darted to check the message said enough to your father, and he let out another amused chuckle. "go on now. don't keep the boy waiting."

your eyes widened in shock, your mouth dry in disbelief but he waved you off. "leave before I go outside to meet him. or should I just--"

"--stay here! I'll be home soon!"

"so do you always drag girls out of bed to keep you company in your car?"

trent rolled his eyes at your question from the driver's seat but kept his attention on the empty road, only the city lights illumating the dark night. "first of all: I didn't drag you out of bed, you could have said no. and second: no I don't usually do this."

you looked at him with your eyes narrowed, not sure what possessed him to call you at 10 in the evening for a drive. "oh so I get special privileges now? care to explain why?"

"I just wanted to go for a drive that's all," he answered honestly with a shrug of his shoulders but that still wasn't quite the answer you were looking for.

you fought back your amused smile. "you have friends for that trent, I'm sure."

the car stopped at a red light which allowed him to look over at you sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of his car. it wasn't the first time after all— there were many trips to the academy, sometimes having to shoot content with him and even that one morning when he picked you up at your sister's apartment for work.

you'd never forget that day and the innocent look on his face when he called you to say that he was outside just as you were grabbing your car keys. it was strange but you didn't mind it.

he let out a sigh and continued to drive after the light had turned green. "all my friends prefer to spend their evenings with their girlfriends and wives so yeah no thanks. and besides--" he shot you an appointed look, "--are we not friends?"

your mouth dried up. that was a little more than you wanted to get out of him, not sure how to respond. colleagues? definitely. banter buddies? sure. but friends?? you were sure that there was some sort of boundary for that and you were never sure if you two had managed to get there yet.

"you could have asked skylar."

oh shit.

you bit your tongue in immediate regret. it was a genuine accident at how quickly it left from your lips and telling by the flicker in trrent's expression, you had hit a nerve. you were just about to apologise when he interjected.

"skylar," he emphasized her name, his lips curved into a smile as he spoke to you, "wouldn't be caught dead eating takeout in a mcdonald's parking lot at 10 in the evening with me though."

you didn't know what to think of his answer, but instead of overthinking it, you decided to make the most of the moment at least. there was no point in making this awkward and it's not like you didn't enjoy his company. trent was easy to be around. most of the time.

so that's how you found yourself parked at the far end of an empty mcdonald's parking lot with hardly any street lights in sight. you unbuckled your seat belt and reclined the seat further back for some more leg room, trent watching you as you did so.

"oh, you're definitely not new to this."

which was true, you weren't. you've had your fair share of late-night drives to get some fresh air back in london. the only difference was the person you were with, a distant memory that you weren't too fond with but maintained at the back of your mind.

you were sat with a large fries, a chocolate milkshake and a mcflurry. you dubbed it the ultimate late-night combo and trent was eager enough to take your word for it, and to his surprise it did not disappoint despite being so simple.

it didn't take long for the atmosphere to clear and for you to ease into conversation. dabbling a bit in random aspects of your lives, to movies, to football and to just nothing. you loved how easygoing it was, not much thought had to be put into anything you said which left you with room to just relax.

"so your mum's not from liverpool?"

you shook your head and took another sip from your milkshake. "she's from london, my dad's from liverpool. but they lived together here for a bit, and two or three years after I was born we moved back to london."

the explanation made trent tutt in disappointment. "and here I thought you were a purebred brit. your accent's probably fake too."

"the accent is real thank you very much," you defended with a hand to your chest.

he quirked a brow, "let's be honest here. you probably dated colwill. you were probably neighbours or something."

your eyes widened a fraction at his comment in utter shock. "levi?" well wasn't this just lovely, you couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "he's three years younger than I am."

trent scrunched his face at you, not convinced by your answer almost as if he knew something you didn't. "age is just a number or whatever they say. but no," he thought for a moment, "you couldn't have been with him because he would have said something by now."

it was strange to see this considering that trent literally played with levi in the england team, so the dots would've been connected long ago if you were in fact in cahoots with levi. it was quite the compliment, knowing that you were paired up with someone that attractive.

"if I were with levi then I wouldn't be in liverpool right now. I'd be back in london living my best life." your answer seemed to pique trent's interest, questions bubbling at his throat the more he found out about you.

"why is it that you left london?" he leant back into the seat, his full attention now on you in the dimly lit car. "I'm sure it's not just because of work."

oh definitely not. you just happened to get lucky there.

your lips pursed as you thought, not sure just how much he wanted to know or how much you were willing to tell. but it wouldn't hurt right?

"uhm," you cleared your throat, "bad breakup."

trent's intrigue increased at your answer, one that he wasn't expecting to be honest. he was expecting something more along the lines of running away from home because your parents' divorce or to be closer to maya.

"you don't look like the relationship type," he answered truthfully and your eyes widened in slight shock, feelings mixed and a bitter taste in your mouth.

how were you supposed to interpret that? negatively? positively? was he calling you independent?? the internal struggle was mind boggling.

you pushed the comment to the back of your mind and let out a hum. "no yeah, he cheated on me."

"oh fuck."

"with my best friend."

"oh fuck."

a laugh escaped your mouth at his reaction and how it got progressively more concerned with each passing second, and your nonchalance wasn't making him feel any better. he fumbled over his words for a bit, switching between the usual "I'm so sorry" and "you've got to be joking right now".

you assured him that you were fine, a closed lippsed smile drawn across your lips. "but like hey," you raised your hands jokjngly, "his name was michael so..."

trent blew out a breath at that and quirked a brow. "yeah, no you definitely asked for it then."

your rolled your eyes and played along for a moment, "I know right. and it didn't help that she was literally his best friend before we got together."

it was every cliché in the book to trent which only made the situation less serious, and seeing that you weren't showing any sort of discomfort towards it he didn't stop himself from laughing and getting back at you. "you just love making horrible life choices."

you nodded eagerly in agreement, saying that it was actually your forte— a gift that you just happened to be born with. it didn't take long for you to ask trent how he didn't know about the breakup. "I'm not famous but it was all over twitter for quite some time."

you came to learn that he wasn't a social media buff and preferred to keep to himself by just staying at home and enjoying his own company and you respected him for that. for you however, it was slightly different because your entire life was on social media but you didn't regret it.

the people that you met and the content that you had the opportunity to create were more than you could ever ask for. but obviously there were the downs— public breakups, hate comments, death threats. nothing out of the ordinary. quite a bit of your life was on display for the world to see so you understood trent's want to keep his life as private as possible.

you were getting to that point as well. you had a total of two friends— maya and clara. your daily routine consisted of waking up, going to work, pilates, pop into a barnes and noble, settling in at home and going live for a few hours. that was your quiet life and you were thoroughly enjoying it.

and trent did a damn good job at keeping his life private, skylar was an absolute myth to everyone. that and you felt that it was time to shift the attention to him for a bit.

"so what happened between you and name not to be mentioned? seeing as we're getting emotional here."

he wouldn't use the word "emotional" but a heart-to-heart was blatantly taking place, even though it wasn't planned. there was a look on his face that screamed how do I explain this? and it had you chewing on your lip for answers, any sort of answer.

it took trent a moment but he eventually let his guard down. "well rumors say that I cheated on her with some random youtuber's girlfriend— which is insane by the way."

not really.

"we dated for nearly two years, she was nice, came to my matches, said I made her heart do flips or something like that." the way it fell from his lips wasn't the slightest bit tasteful, no good reminisce or fondness in his tone at all.

you continued to listen to trent as he explained his relationship with skylar a bit more, furthering into how they met and whatnot. it wasn't anything crazy, just through a mutual friend and he decided to take her on a few dates just for fun, until they're eventually hit it off.

"I thought it was going well but then she said she needed a break out of nowhere, and I was like excuse me?" he said with just as much enthusiasm as if he were still in the moment, his forehead creased in confusion as he looked at you.

he was hurt and it was subtle but not subtle enough to miss. "and she just left without explaining?"

"no," he sighed. "she said she couldn't handle the restriction and needed some time to live her life but obviously the lads thought otherwise. robbo said it was emotional manipulation but I don't know."

"that girl is insane trent. she uses your bank card more than you do. she flakes out on most of your dates and when you try to speak to her about an issue or how you're feeling she gets emotional and starts playing the victim, while you try and apologise. get her out of your life."

this was at least a ten times worse than your situation and you were sympathising at this point. skylar was in fact a manipulator and trent wholeheartedly did not want to admit that.

"and now what? she just shows up and you're fine?" the question came out a little harsher than you intended so you immediately apologized, not wanting to ruin the moment and make him feel awkward. but it was a genuine question and you were borderline worried for him.

there was a moment of silence that enveloped the two of you, filled with even more uncertainty than before. "I don't know to be honest. she hasn't said anything yet but I haven't really been in the mood to confront her yet— I have bigger things to worry about right now."

okay, that was true. his head had to be in the game, and with his team, not some girl who came to lounge around for whatever reason. but you genuinely felt bad for him, a new light shone over him after this evening— one that revealed a little more vulnerability than he let on and it tugged at your heart strings.

driving home about an hour later with that knowledge sitting at the back of your mind wasn't the easiest and you just knew that it was going to keep you up tonight. plaguing your mind, sounding over your other thoughts that were probably more important, for example— the script that you had to give to one of the p.r members for an episode of Up the Reds!, the schedule for certain uploads and how the accounts had to be managed, as well as certain photoshoots and interviews that needed to be prepared beforehand and the packing you had to finish before--

"hey sweetheart," you cooed into the receiver end of your phone which just happened to catch trent's undivided attention but yours was out the window, as you adorned a soft smile.

"don't 'hey sweetheart' me," the voice of the teenager bit back but you swear you could hear him smiling. "you didn't tell me you were making the trip."

oh, he just had to go and tell the entire world huh?

you huffed out a breath, "in my defence, I only made the decision today." an unconvinced hum rang through your hear and you stifled a laugh. "are you going to be there?"

"no duh."

you rolled your eyes at the attitude he was giving you, which was nothing out of the ordinary. "I'm leaving in two days for the week so--"

"a week??" the shock in his tone was evident and you knew were this was leading. "he convinced you to stay for the week? and you said yes?!"

"I said yes so I could spend more time with you I swear. if you really think about it, I'm doing this for you."

"hm, oh really?" he dragged out and you pursed your lips to stop the laughter from escaping your lips. "I'm holding you to this. bye I'm leaving to try and comprehend the amount of lies that just came from your mouth."

"come on you can't be a--" you interjected but the boy was adamant.

"--bye!!"

you laughed sheepishly. "I love you."

"liar!"

that was nothing short of the usual phone call you seemed to get, a ghost of a smile still on your lips as you put your phone back down into your lap while trent mustered up the courage to say something.

"so." he gained your attention, his gaze immediately averting in front of him to the empty road as he drove a little slower than usual. "you're going somewhere?"

you perked up and nodded. "It's supposed to be to relax but I'm pretty sure I'll be more stressed out on that side of the world. I'll be back by next week though."

he probably should have asked where you were going but before you knew it, you were in front of your dad's house. and as suspected, all the lights were off but you knew he wasn't sleeping. he wouldn't even think about it until he knew that you were at home safely.

it was exactly 1:42 a.m., and only then had it hit you just how long you had stayed out. trent got out of the car and watched as you walked to the front door— the urge to say something tickling at his throat. something other than "goodbye" but it wasn't there yet.

you gave him a small wave and put your hand on the door handle, but before you could turn it, it was pulled open from the inside— your dad stood against the doorframe with a sly grin that you were so close to slapping off his face but he was quick.

he put his hand out and waved at trent, the footballer slightly amused at your reaction and harsh movements to push your dad back inside, a laugh echoing as he waved back politely. "good evening mr carter."

you whipped around and sent a glare trent's way but he was far more than pleased.

"jamie, why didn't you say that your boyfriend was a footballer?"

your heart dropped to your stomach. "dad! i swear I'm going to--"

your father continued on playfully. "and he plays for us? so you do have reasonable taste in men. and here I thought I raised an idiot."

trent was as a loss for words by now, his eyes flickering from you as you tried to loosen yourself from your father's grip on your shoulders. he knew you were blushing, but his was masked well by the lack of lighting.

"anyway, thank you so much for returning my daughter in one piece trent. I hope she didn't bother you too much." he tightened his grip on you and ruffled your hair. "she's rather irritating in my opinion."

"not at all," trent managed through a laugh. "she's great company."

your father didn't agree with his answer at all and he made it blatantly obvious until he finally bid trent goodbye and got back into the house where you basically jumped onto his back, your arm wrapped around his neck in a chokehold.

"why are you like this?? I have to see him at work!"

"that's your fault for dating a colleague!"

"we're not dating!"

"that's exactly what your mother told me about her and shawn. and now look where that led us!"

[burntsaltsblog]

shiny new toy

(felix catton\reader)

chapter five

details: a saltburn inspired short story.

content warning: profanity, explicit sexual content, and mentions of abuse (physical and mental)

warning for this chapter: this chapter depicts explicit sexual content. if you are not an adult, DO NOT READ!!!

MNI 18+

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"I heard he fucked his cousin."

Everyone collectively groaned as Felix reached up to cover my ears with his hands. I playfully batted them away as I giggled at his protectiveness. 

"Farleigh, I will pay you to stop talking," Felix said as he gave up on prohibiting my hearing. He wrapped a possessive arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and tucking me into his side like I was before Farleigh spewed such ridiculous information. 

"That can be arranged," Farleigh replied. "Though, you should know I will only accept payment in diamonds and gold bars. But that shouldn't be too difficult for you." An impish smile was painted on his face, which glowed under the sun that graciously shone down on us. We had gathered at a table on the quad during a brief break between classes. 

Felix rolled his eyes as his fingers lightly traced my arm, raising goosebumps under my shirt. I snuggled closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder, feeling content. 

Life had been good. I hadn't seen Eric since he attacked me a month ago, and a couple of days after the gruesome event, he was kicked out of school for possessing multiple "illegal substances." I had a feeling Felix had something to do with that. Usually, my moral compass would cause me to feel poorly about someone being falsely accused of something. But I didn't care how Felix got rid of Eric in this case. I was just glad he was gone. 

"Mum has a fat ruby that she keeps locked up at home that I think you'd quite like, but knowing you, you'll shove it up your arse at one of your orgies," Venetia snickered.  

"Wait, you have orgies?" I asked, joining the conversation. "That oddly makes sense." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" Farleigh shot back, turning his attention on me with a sharp raise of his sculpted brow.

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Venetia and I exchanged glances before we burst out laughing. Farleigh tried to retain a sour expression, but I didn't miss how his mouth curled up on one side, showing his true feelings. I stole a quick look at Felix and saw him chuckling. He was relieved to see me getting along with his sister and cousin. It had taken some time, but I was finally accepted into the group, and I could hardly contain my joy. For the first time, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. 

"Shit," Venetia cursed harshly, wiping away the happy haze that had surrounded our small group. "I'm late for my next tutorial. I don't know why I signed up for History of the Theatre. I don't give a fuck about the theatre." 

"Is it on Madison Road?" Farleigh asked.

"Yup. I'm going to ruin my new Dior shoes walking over there," she whined.

"Don't worry. I'm sure Daddy will buy you a new pair," Farleigh muttered. "Anyways, I have a class over there later this afternoon, so I'll walk with you. That way, you won't have to face the death of your shoes alone." 

"You're too kind, cousin." 

After gathering their belongings, they stood in unison and bid us farewell, immediately falling in step together as they departed. Like always, their heads gravitated towards each other, almost touching as they prattled back and forth about various topics, such as a classmate caught wearing a dreadful array of clothing or the latest scandal involving two teachers hooking up in an empty lecture hall. Felix and I watched them cross the grassy quad before they took a sharp turn behind a building, rendering them impossible to see.  

"I'm glad you all are getting along. I was worried for a bit that they wouldn't come around. Especially Farleigh," Felix said quietly. 

I peered at the crease between his brows and placed a finger there, attempting to smooth the lines and ease the tension on his ethereal face. 

"I know me too. But it seems my irresistible charm finally won them over."

Felix smiled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He then grasped my chin in his hand, bringing my mouth to meet his in a tender kiss. I sighed happily against his lips before I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening our embrace. Using my teeth, I dragged his bottom lip out, and a deep moan spilled from Felix's throat.

"Fuck," he whimpered. The sound shot straight to my core, and I gazed around quickly before I stood, pulling my boyfriend with me. 

"Come with me," I said, lacing our fingers together. 

"Where are we going?" he questioned skeptically, sensing I had something mischievous up my sleeve. 

"You'll see," I grinned as I quickly walked to a clump of trees in the far corner of the quad with Felix in tow. It was void of any classmates, and my blood surged with anticipation. The trees were arranged in a particular fashion that would prohibit anyone from breaching our privacy if we huddled behind them. 

I had been eyeing this spot for weeks and was waiting for the opportunity to bring Felix here. He had let it slip a while back that he occasionally liked to mess around in semi-public spots. But he had made it clear that he wanted to respect my limits and not force me into anything I was uncomfortable with. Since then, I have been searching for the ideal place that was considered public but not so out in the open that we still had an essence of seclusion.

Felix and I reached the group of trees, and I immediately pushed him up against the bark of one and rose onto my tiptoes, brandishing his lips with a searing kiss. He reacted just as I had hoped and wrapped his arms around my waist before greedily palming my ass. I could already feel him hardening against my stomach, and I pulled away, licking my lips. I gazed up at him wide-eyed as I sank to my knees. 

I watched his pupils dilate before he glanced around to ensure we were hidden from any passerby's view. "Are you sure, pretty girl? I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

I kept my eyes locked with Felix's as I slowly pulled down the zipper of his jeans and ran my fingers along the waistband of his boxers. "I'm sure. I want to make you feel good. Can I do that, Daddy? Please?"

Felix swallowed as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Ok, darling. Show me those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

I didn't bother to conceal my smirk as I slipped my hand into his boxers and wrapped my hand around his hard length. I never doubted my ability to convince him of this escapade. 

As I eased Felix's shaft from the confinement of his boxers, his head fell back against the tree, and I watched in wonder at the sharp line of his jaw and the smooth skin that encompassed his throat. He breathed deeply as I slowly licked from the base of his length to his swollen, red tip that was already leaking pre-cum. My mouth watered at the sight, and I eagerly swirled it around with my tongue before swallowing. 

"Jesus Christ. You're going to be the death of me," Felix gasped as he ran his fingers through my hair, creating a makeshift ponytail, urging me to take him in my mouth. 

"I can't think of worse ways to die."

My smile was wicked before I closed my lips around his tip and sucked, earning a moan from the man above me. One of his hands came to rest on the side of my jaw, and I took that as my cue to ease more of his length into my mouth. 

"That's it, sweetheart. Take my cock like the little whore you are."

I groaned around him, which caused my throat to vibrate in the most glorious way for Felix. With both hands back in my hair, he tugged me forward so his length began descending down my throat. As a natural reaction, I started choking, and my eyes watered, making my vision of Felix blur, and I whined softly. 

"I know, darling. Your throat is so full of me, but you'll be a good girl and take it because you want to please me."

Tears ran down my face, and I knew my mascara was surely smudged around my eyes, which Felix loved. He said I never looked prettier than when my makeup was ruined, and my mouth was stuffed with his cock.

Felix pulled himself out of my mouth, much to my dismay, and said, "I'm going to fuck your throat, sweetheart, and then I'm going to cum, and you'll swallow every drop like a good girl. Do you understand?"

I nodded, but Felix pulled my hair, eliciting a whimper from me as my scalp burned. "Use your words, pretty girl-"

"Yes, please, Felix. Use my mouth and throat however you want. I don't care; I just want to make you feel good."

Felix smiled smugly, pleased with my needy behavior. He lined himself up at my lips, and I promptly parted them. His length filled my mouth once again before he pulled out and hastily thrust back in. He soon found a pace that was both punishing and pleasurable, and each time he entered my mouth, his cock eased farther down my throat until I couldn't take any more of him. I drew my hands behind my back as Felix had taught me to do whenever he was using my mouth. I loved showing him how I could remember to be obedient. 

His fingers dug into the base of my skull, and drool began dripping down my chin and covering my neck. I hollowed out my cheeks as Felix increased his pace.

"That's it. Just like that," Felix praised. His voice was tight, and I knew it was mere seconds before he would climax. I pulled my hands from where they rested behind my back and cupped his balls, gently squeezing them to send him over the edge. 

A low, guttural cry left his mouth as hot ropes of cum shot down my throat, and I eagerly swallowed, not wanting to waste a single drop. Above me, Felix panted heavily as he leaned against the tree behind him and gently messaged my scalp to soothe the lingering ache of his rough actions.

"You did so good for me, darling. I'm so proud of you," he whispered as he gently pulled out of my mouth and quickly tucked himself back into his pants. He guided me to my feet and directly into his warm embrace, and I nuzzled my face in his neck and inhaled, breathing in his familiar scent—a combination of his usual cologne and pure Felix. 

He drew random shapes on my back as he held me in his arms and continued to mutter soft words of praise. I would've gladly stayed here forever, but the annoying reminder that I had class popped into my head, and I groaned into the confines of Felix's chest. 

"What is it, lovely?" he murmured.

"I have class." 

I glanced at the small, gold watch wrapped around my wrist, a recent present from Felix, and saw I only had three minutes to get to a lecture all the way across campus. But I only had myself to blame, considering it was my idea to bring him here and fool around.

"I have a better idea."

I peered up at Felix with curious eyes. He gave me a chaste kiss before wrapping my hand in his calloused one and leading me away from the cover of the trees.

"Where are we going?" I giggled, trying to keep up with his long strides. I had an intense feeling of deja vu. 

Felix turned back to look at me playfully. "Back to my room."

"But what about class?"

"What about class? I say, we skip it."

We stopped walking and stood face to face. I tried fixing Felix with my most displeasing stare but failed terribly and gave into the smile that was fighting its way onto my face.  

"You're a terrible influence, you know that?"

"You love it."

I love you.

I closed my mouth before the words could fall out and gazed at the ground before looking back into his amber eyes and nodding as soft laughter shook my shoulders. "You're right. I do." I cupped his cheek and pulled his mouth down to mine. The kiss was short, yet it held many emotions and feelings I couldn't share. 

When we parted, Felix wore a sly expression. "I take that as a yes, then?"

I shook my head in defeat. "Yes, it is."

"Then right this way, m'lady," Felix announced with a teasing voice as he wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me toward his dormitory quarters. 

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"What are you doing for the summer?"

Felix had an arm flung across my back, holding me against him, and my head rested comfortably on his chest while he asked me about my summer plans. Our clothes had been shed when we entered Felix's room, and the only material covering our bodies now was a thin cotton sheet on his narrow dorm bed.  

I snuggled closer to him as I answered, "Home, I suppose. Though I can't say, I'm looking forward to it."

My mother died when I was nine, and since then, my father has run through a long list of wives. I felt like London Tipton with a new stepmother every other month. He recently divorced Synthia, my tenth stepmother, and was already courting number eleven. I would miss number ten, though. Oxford had hosted a family day a few months ago, and of course, my father failed to make an appearance, but Synthia happily showed up in his place. She was the first stepmother to make an effort in a long time, so I was bitter that my father had dumped her, and I was already planning on hating number eleven no matter how "great" she was. 

"Hmm," Felix hummed as he traced the outline of my shoulder blade. He seemed deep in thought when I tilted my head up to see his face. His brow furrowed, and he bit his lip before swiping his tongue across it. I would've used that small action as a reason to pounce on him for the third time that day, but I was too curious about the thoughts I could see circulating his mind. 

Felix met my eyes, and for the first time, I saw shyness inhibit his features. Bashfulness was not a typical trait for Felix, so I was immediately concerned. "What's on your mind, baby?" I asked as I brushed my hand across his cheek comfortingly.

"I..." He smiled sheepishly as his gaze shot downward. "I was wondering if you'd like to spend the summer with me. At Saltburn."

"Saltburn?"

"Yeah, that's the name of my family's estate. It's where Venetia, Farleigh, and I always spend the summer, and I'd like it if you joined us this year."

I could feel the surprise cross my face, which quickly turned to excitement as I stared at Felix, trying to find words to formulate a response. I knew we hadn't been together long, but what I felt for him was so intense and passionate that spending an entire summer without his warm, consuming presence would drive me mad. I would gladly spend the summer with him anywhere, whether it was a deserted island or his family's estate. 

Felix looked at me with a hopeful expression; his eyes searched my face anxiously, and I saw his relief when I finally replied. "I would love to, Felix." 

"Really?" He became giddy as he sat up. I joined him in a seated position and grasped his hands. 

"Yes. I couldn't bear being without you for the whole summer. It would be pure torture. Plus, I love our little group and can hardly imagine spending the break without Farleigh or Venetia-"

Felix kissed me unexpectedly, swallowing the rest of my sentence. His hands cradled the back of my head before he drew back and sprang up from his bed. He began haphazardly searching for his clothes as he rambled his plans. "I must phone Mum and Dad right away. They knew I was going to ask you, and I've got to tell them you're coming so Duncan has plenty of time to prepare the room next to mine. Of course, you can stay in my room, but Mum prefers everyone to have a certain level of propriety and decorum at Saltburn. I mean, I'm not even allowed to wear my fucking stud there. But it's ok because a bathroom will connect our rooms, so you can sneak over without ever being caught."

Felix was panting by the time he finished his speech. Fully dressed, he rushed back to his bed, falling beside me and covering my face with kisses. I giggled before he captured my lips in a deep, slow kiss. Gone was his high level of energy as he claimed my mouth most sensually. Reluctantly, we parted, and a smile, so happy, so joyful, stretched across his beautiful face. He radiated pure bliss.

"I'll be right back." He pecked me lightly on my nose before grabbing his cell phone and departing from the room, shutting the door softly behind him. 

I fell back into his bed and stretched my arms above my head. Elation soared through my body, and I turned my head, spotting the pack of cigarettes and lighter on my boyfriend's bedside table. I had never smoked before meeting Felix, and when I tried it for the first time, I was quickly scolded by him as he said, "You're lungs are too pretty to be damaged by smoke. Give it to me, darling." I had made a show of pouting as I claimed that he had made it look so sexy, and I had just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. 

I had tried to convince Felix that I was not interested in anyone telling me what not to do, but I secretly adored how much he cared for me and how my well-being was at the top of his priority list. I had only attempted smoking twice since then, and both times, Felix had promptly hauled me back to his room to "teach me a lesson" for not listening to him. I thoroughly enjoyed both "lessons." 

The cigarette was balanced between my lips as I expertly picked up the lighter, flicked the flame to life, and held it to the end of the small, white stick. I breathed in deeply, relishing the way the nicotine reminded me of Felix. Memories traveled to the forefront of my mind of him wrapping his mouth around his own cig and effortlessly inhaling. The images caused my pussy to clench painfully, and I squeezed my legs together tightly. I had spent most of the day in bed with Felix, but I still craved him. I was insatiable when it came to Felix Catton.  

Well, speak of the Devil. I saw the doorknob turn before Felix's tall form appeared in the doorway. His eyes immediately honed in on the small object between my lips, and they darkened. "I thought you had finally learned your lesson last time. At least, that's what you promised me when you were on the brink of cumming with a red ass and tears falling from those pretty eyes."

I audibly swallowed as I pulled the cigarette from my mouth and exhaled, letting a puff of smoke spill from my lips. "I don't know what you're talking about," I innocently said before taking another drag.

It took Felix three strides to reach my side and pull the cigarette from my mouth. He harshly ground it in his ashtray before flipping me over onto my stomach. "I guess I won't be as nice this time since you're so intent on being disobedient."

I gazed at him over my shoulder as I felt my pussy flood with wetness. There was no way I was making it to any of my classes today.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　

chapter index

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 21!!

AKA Newt and Adam Part II

Rushing to get this up before I need to leave for work, so no edit, no beta. We fall like...like something that falls.

Not ducks.

Okay, let's do this.

Beginning || Previous || Next

**************************************

Adam had been typing for a while.

He had a laptop set up on Aziraphale’s desk, and was alternating between typing and clicking with the usb mouse he’d brought along. Their first step had taken a day or two – setting up wireless internet in the bookshop. Honestly, Newt wasn’t entirely sure what Aziraphale would think of that when he returned, but Adam had insisted it would make things a lot easier, so Newt had done his part to help (arrange the line to be put in, and stay out of the way while the technician did his work). While Adam sat at the laptop, configuring settings and researching VPN services, Newt had been doing everything he could. He’d paced, started reading a few books, taken a walk, taken a second walk, explored Maggie’s shop, bought treats from Nina’s (Adam had been most appreciative of that), and made countless cups of tea, then popped out to the local co-op to replenish the tea bag supply.

All in all, it had been a long day of helping and Newt was beginning to find himself very tired by the effort.

It wasn’t until late that night when Adam finally set the laptop aside, and asked if they could get something exotic for takeaway. After a bit of debate and a game of paper-rock-scissors, they ended up ordering curry, which was about the most exotic thing that Newt’s British stomach was willing to handle after all the stress of the day. As Newt tidied the dishes afterward, he finally asked what had been on his mind all day.

“So do you think this will actually work?”

Adam shrugged from behind his phone screen. “’Bout as well as anything’s likely to, I reckon.”

Newt wasn’t thrilled with that answer. “Okay, but what do we do if it doesn’t?”

Adam set his phone down and raised an eyebrow at Newt, then sighed thoughtfully and let his eyes wander to the ceiling. “Well,” he began, “Then I just suppose we try something else.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” Adam said to the ceiling. He crossed his arms and frowned in consideration. Then he shrugged and sat back up. “I expect we’ll figure that out when we get to it.” He watched Newt’s frown deepen. “If we get to it,” Adam corrected.

“Right,” Newt said doubtfully, “So are we going to try it tonight then?”

“Nah,” Adam replied with a shake of his head, “Gotta let the script finish first.”

“Script? Are you telling me you wrote code? To hack into Heaven?”

“Well yeah,” Adam said, as if it was obvious, “We learn how to code in schools these days you know. I just...used it creatively.”

The sound Newt made conveyed how impressed he was better than any words could. “You,” he said after a moment, “Would be a menace to national security if you ever wanted to be.”

“Tried it already,” Adam said with a smirk, “Wasn’t my thing in the end.”

Newt couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, and thank goodness for that.” He shook his head and put away the last of the dishes before sitting back down at the table. “So are you doing your A Levels in Computer Science then?” He asked.

Adam shrugged. “Well, yeah sort of. Mum and Dad want me to go to Uni for it, but I have other ideas.”

“Like what?” Newt pressed.

“I want to be an author,” Adam said, a small blush crossing his cheeks, “I want to write stories. Lotta good a story can do in the world. An’ I figure that maybe I can inspire people to be better. Save the whales an’ all that.”

Newt smiled. Well if that wasn’t just the most charming thing he’d heard in a while. “I reckon you’d be rather good at that,” he said. Adam looked at him and smiled appreciatively in return.

“Yeah,” he said, “I hope so. Figure it’s worth tryin’ at least.”

And isn’t that just the truth for anything worthwhile in this world.

************************************

The next day they both got up late, but that didn’t stop Adam from rushing to the laptop to check on things while Newt went across the street to grab some sweet buns from Nina. When Newt returned, Adam looked up from the laptop with a satisfied smile.

“It’s ready,” he said. Newt sighed in relief. He’d been half worried that the script would have failed and Adam would have had to have another go at it, but he supposed that Adam probably worried a lot less about that sort of thing than most people.

He set down the box of sticky buns, and went to stand close – but not too close – to Adam. To his surprise, Adam got up from the chair and beckoned Newt to sit down. It took a moment for Newt to register what was happening, before he started stuttering and waving his hands in refusal.

“Oh, oh no Adam, no that’s not a good idea. I really shouldn’t...” Newt trailed off into a strand of mumbled syllables that were all nervousness and no sense.

“It’s okay,” Adam said, “I told it to behave itself.”

The teenage ex-antichrist ushered a very nervous Newt into the chair, and directed him to open the VPN. Newt took a deep breath, put his hand on the mouse, and slowly clicked the icon.

The application opened. Nothing shut down, the power didn’t go out, there were no sparks, there was no fire. It just...opened. It just...worked. Newton Pulsifer, life-long lover of computers who had utterly destroyed every piece of technology he ever touched, had just opened an application on a laptop. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he wiped at them with his sleeve. He couldn’t wait to tell Anathema.

“Sorry,” he sniffed, “It’s just...ah...nevermind, what’s next?” He pushed back against the emotion, he could deal with that later. They had work to do and he had a friend to find. Adam patted his shoulder, and Newt looked over to see Adam was smiling at him kindly.

“It’s alright,” he said, before turning his and Newt’s attention back towards the laptop screen. They spent the next 20 minutes or so going over how to open and use this very special VPN program that Adam had modified to hack past Heaven’s firewalls….or rather, Newt supposed, holy-water-walls? Was that a thing? He supposed it could be. Oh, who cares, he was using a computer successfully for the first time in his life! The world was his oyster, and Heaven too, apparently.

**********************

Muriel heard ringing. They weren’t entirely sure where it was coming from, but they could hear it clear as anything. The scrivener looked up from their work to see that an angel phone had manifested itself on the desk in front of them. Oh, well that hadn’t been there before.

Carefully, Muriel picked up the heavenly device, crystalline and perfect. This kind of device was usually exclusively for use by the archangels, not them, but it was in fact ringing and Muriel had the very specific feeling that it was for them. The angel only hesitated another moment before tapping the screen. The phone came to life, showing Newt and a young boy. Her friend Newt heaved a relieved sigh and smiled.

“Muriel!” he exclaimed, the relief evident in his voice as well, “It’s actually you! It worked!”

“Of course it did,” said the boy next to him, “You do know who you called, right?” Newt laughed in response. Muriel didn’t understand any of it, but they found themselves laughing too and, to their surprise, crying small tears.

“Hello Newt,” Muriel said into the phone, blinking away the tears, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you all.”

“Muriel,” Newt began again, “Where are you?”

Well, that was odd. Muriel stammered a bit in surprise. “Well, I’m in Heaven of course! I thought Metatron told you!”

“The Metatron?!” replied Newt, “I knew it. Damn. Muriel, I am so sorry. I never should have insisted we leave the bookshop. This is all my fault.”

Muriel shook their head. “No, no it’s alright. Apparently I left Heaven in a proper state! I’ve been buried in paperwork ever since I got back.” They turned the phone around so that Newt could see the large stacks of files that never seemed to get any smaller.

“Um, hullo, Muriel is it?” came the voice of the boy, “My name is Adam, and honestly, I think the Metatron’s been lying to you.”

“What?” Muriel turned the phone screen back so the boy – Adam – could see the confusion on their face. “But...why would he do that? I mean, he’s an angel, I don’t think he can lie.”

“Oh, angels can lie,” Adam replied, “You can trust me on that one.”

“But...I don’t even know who you are,” Muriel said, squinting into the phone. They boy smirked mischievously.

“Honestly, I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you,” he hesitated before adding, “Or that you’d want to know for that matter. You’re rather the good sort.”

Muriel wasn’t sure what to think about that, but they did know that they were getting frustrated with all of these cryptic messages, the lying, the half-truths, everyone tip-toeing around them as if they were stupid. So, the Angel Muriel, Scrivener 37th Order, Inspector Constable of Earth, steeled their gaze and looked as straight at the boy as the phone would let them.

“Try me.”

****************************************

Getting Muriel to believe that the Metatron had lied was not all that difficult in the end. Newt had told them how worried everyone was. It was harder for them to understand that the ex-antichrist was helpful and kind. In the end, they decided that, now that Muriel was able to communicate, they would stay in Heaven and see if they could feed information to Newt through the VPN. That way, they would hopefully know what the Metatron was up to. But Newt made Muriel Pinky Promise that they would contact him if they were ever in actual danger. When Newt eventually ended the call and disconnected from the VPN, he felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

That is, until an idea struck him. One that sent a bolt of anxiety shooting through his body.

“Oh! Adam!” he said, turning to the teenager, “What do I do when you leave? I mean, you need to take your laptop with you.”

Adam shook his head. “Nah, see this is my old one. It’s yours now, you can keep it.” The boy glanced at the laptop on the desk. “And if it ever gives you any trouble, you just let me know.”

With the last of his worries answered, Newt felt tears in his eyes again, and this time he let them fall.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

[ifancyharry]

Shitty friend groups

Hello loversss (as Niall Horan would say 😋) happy Christmas!! I'm sorry i went MIA, i was feeling a little down but i'm back now :) just wanted to say thank you to everyone that likes and reblogs what i write, you really do make a difference and motivate me, so thank you! as always, let me know what you think, my ask is always open to talk

Word count: 5K

What is it: Harry gets bullied by YN's friend group; angst; fluff; mentions of blood and anxiety

“Hello, Anne. Is… is Harry home? We were supposed to study together but he… he’s not answering his phone” YN sighed heavily once Anne opened the door, relieved to know someone from the Styles family was home; she knew at least Anne wouldn’t ignore her. 

YN and Harry had been dating for a couple of months now, but coming from two different types of friend group, they preferred to keep their newly formed relationship to themselves, Anne being the only once to know since YN was always hanging out at Harry’s house.

Harry wasn’t so convinced they should tell her, but Anne was always extremely welcoming and kind towards YN, so she felt as if she owed it to her to at least be honest with their feelings.

When Harry had asked her to keep their relationship private, YN didn’t really understand. She thought he could be somehow ashamed she was his girlfriend, but he promised that wasn’t the case. At first, it was easy to keep it private. YN was what you could call popular in school, whereas Harry was more kept to himself with a selective group of friends, so they rarely crossed paths at school. 

They would usually meet in the janitor’s closet to share a kiss or two, but they both’d agreed to keep PDA to a minimum, and despite their shared decision to keep the relationship to themselves, she couldn’t help but wonder why. YN couldn’t possibly know her friends despised Harry and told him every chance they got.

Harry was smart, he did well in school and wasn’t afraid to show it, he was passionate and opinionated, and YN’s friends thought he was awkward for that. Harry never really understood how YN could hang out with them, but he’d started to notice they were never rude when she was around, so he guessed she didn’t know their very true nature.

When Harry got picked to be YN’s tutor, he had dreaded meeting with her in the library, convinced she was as rotten as her friends, but the very first time he saw her, out of breath because she was running late, hair messy and her cheeks rosy from the cold, muttering apologies over apologies for making him wait, he knew she wasn’t anything like he had imagined. She was soft, kind, and intelligent. And pretty damn cute, may he add (although that he knew already).

YN really didn’t know what she did. One minute they were fine, talking on the phone about how much fun their date at the fair had been, and the next Harry stopped answering her texts and all she was left with was wondering what happened. 

“Oh! Hi dear” Anne smiled sweetly at her, “Harry still hasn’t come home”.

YN frowned at that, starting to think maybe he’d persuaded his mum to lie for him and asked her to find a way to get rid of her. She cringed at the mere thought. Was whatever she did that bad? And Anne was usually so nice to her! She couldn’t bear to think about that.

“I need to leave for work but… but you can wait for him in his room?”  Anne questioned once she saw how upset the girl in front of her looked, “I’m sure he’ll be home any minute.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother” YN bit back an awkward smile, her mouth twisting at the corners. She was relieved Anne wasn’t in on Harry’s plan to avoid her. At least she had his mum on her side. Despite not knowing what she did, she hated when Harry was mad at her. Well, mad… he never really did get mad. He just got upset and avoided her until she had to reach out and confront him. She always thought that was why their relationship was so great, she compensated wherever Harry lacked. 

Understanding Harry’s fear of confrontation, she was the one who opened up first about her feelings for him, all twitchy hands and anxious mind, scared he didn’t feel the same and she had completely misread the signs. 

She hadn’t, because Harry had been crushing over her since the first moment he started tutoring her, and after he’d told her, YN made him repeat it ever chance she got (“tell me what you thought the first time we met!” “i though you were unhinged” Harry always said, but after kissing the pout on her lips away he’d add “and very cute”), never missing his reddened cheeks every time he told her that.

“You could never be a bother, love! Come inside,” Anne moved a little sideways so she could make room for her to come in, “you know the way”, she said, gesturing to the staircase on the right.

YN nodded and thanked Anne as she made her way inside, toeing her shoes off and placing them neatly at the front door. 

“I would offer you tea but I’m in a hurry!” Anne said, and YN watched her grab her coat from the hanger near the front door along with her phone and what YN guessed were her car keys.

“Oh, no need, I understand” YN smiled politely and at that Anne nodded, giving her a warm smile and closing the distance between them to encapsulate YN in a hurried hug.

“Bye, love, I’ll be back tomorrow morning after my shift.” She winked and YN blushed at the thought of being alone with Harry for a whole night, muttering a soft bye under her breath when Anne made her way out of the door.

YN, now alone in the Styles’ household, looked around herself, walking further in. She spotted their cat sleeping on the couch and she said hello to him too, deciding against petting him, she knew damn well that cat hated being woken up and she understood him completely.

She decided to wait for Harry in his room as she originally intended to, so she made her way up the stairs, stopping every once in a while to smile at the family pictures framed on the hallway walls. 

Once she reached Harry’s door, she opened it and closed it silently, despite being alone, behind her back, taking a big breath once she was inside, his woodsy scent mixed with the fabric softener of his sheets lingering in the air around her, comforting her. 

 “I’ll just wait here,” she whispered to herself as she sat down on the edge of his bed, crossing one leg over the other, her hands intertwined in her lap. 

She waited anxiously for Harry to come home as the minutes began to pass, and with the minutes the hours, and with the passing of the hours, her eyes started to get heavy and her breathing slowed, the book she had found on Harry’s nightstand (after she got bored of her phone), managed to keep her occupied only so much, boring her to the point of sleepiness (Harry and his pretentious books), and she curled on top of his covers, hugging herself to protect her body from the cold of his room (which wasn’t that cold, the cold she was feeling mostly due to her anxiety), slipping into a dreamless sleep as she waited for Harry to return.

-

YN awoke suddenly at the sound of a door slamming, and it took her a while to get her surroundings in, confused as to where she was. 

After realizing she was in Harry’s room on his bed, she also remembered why she was in his room, and that quiet, confused state she’d woken up in subdued, leaving room to the dread of a conversation whom she couldn’t wait to have (and whom she knew Harry would avoid whatever it took).

She got up from his bed and made her way towards the wooden door, twisting the knob and opening the door hurriedly, eager to see him. Her ears where graced with a loud yelp coming out of Harry’s mouth, who apparently had made his way up the stairs and was in front of the door too, not knowing YN was on the other side.

“Bloody hell!” He shouted, his eyes widened with fear as he brought his hand’s palm against his chest, heart level “you scared me” he breathed out after he’d calmed down, surprised.

“What are you doing here?” He added, looking at her with his deep green eyes.

YN, however, couldn’t get the words out of her mouth as she took in the look of Harry’s face, scratched and bloody.

“What happened?” She whispered, furrowing her eyebrows as she raised her hand to point at his face. His cheekbone had a deep cut on it, the skin under it purple colored and turgid. His nose was cleaned now but YN could make out the faint stain of blood that seemed to have dripped down onto his cupid bow, turning his lips a bright red color. She lowered her gaze to his blue hoodie, and she frowned because she knew it wasn’t the one he was wearing on their date that morning.

“It’s nothing.” Harry brushed it off, making his way inside his room and heading towards the bathroom. 

“It’s not nothing, Harry!” She snapped, following him inside the bathroom, “did someone do this to you? Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“No” he chuckled a humorless laugh out of his nose, “I did this to myself.”

“Don’t go all smartass on me, Harry,” she said, lowering her tone, “what happened?”

She watched as he opened the shower’s faucet to warm the water. He then proceeded to remove his hoodie, tugging it off his head and tossing it in the laundry basket.

“I need to shower now, can you get out?” He spat out, turning his head to glance at her, his eyes, lowered in tiny slits, had turned a dark green and his mouth was closed in a firm line.

YN had never seen him like that. It was the first time he asked her to get out while he showered, he loved hearing her talk while he showered, often asking her to repeat what they previously studied to see if she was really paying attention.

She muttered out a soft ‘okay’ and nodded, lowering her eyes on the floor and making her way out of the bathroom. She’d seen him naked plenty of times by now, but she was extremely respectful of his boundaries and if he didn’t want her there while he showered, she wouldn’t force him. 

As she waited for him on her bed, she tapped her phone behind her to look at the time; it was a little past seven thirty, and she wondered whether she should text her mum to let her know she would spend the night at Harry’s. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Harry wanted her to stay the night or if he expected her to be gone when he returned from his shower. 

She decided to tell her mum to not wait for her, hoping to make up with Harry by the time it was time for bed.

She didn’t know what was wrong with him, and she was worried he’d gotten himself in trouble. Harry was smart, but school was getting hard, and she’d seen that episode of Pretty Little Liars in which Spencer got addicted to amphetamines to keep up with school, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was the case (maybe she needed to stop watching so much tv)

Maybe Harry needed some extra help to get through finals and things took a bad turn? 

She possibly couldn’t know. 

She jumped a little when she heard the bathroom door snap open, the sound interrupting her train of thoughts, and she raised her head to look at Harry, the vapor from the hot water carrying around the scent of his body wash, permeating the room. 

He walked to his dresser only with a towel wrapped around his hips, and YN didn’t miss the big purple bruise on his left hip as he lowered to fish out a clean t-shirt and sweats out of the dresser.

“Can we talk?” She whispered, breaking the silence that lingered between them. She knew from the start the conversation wouldn’t have been an easy one, but she possibly couldn’t have known he would’ve turned up looking like that! All bruises and cuts!

Harry shrugged as he turned around, “nothing to talk about.”

“Nothing to… nothing to talk about!” She exclaimed, tossing her hands in the air in defeat.

“I just said that” 

“Harry, you’re- you’re…” She chose to ignore his remark and sighed, “do you need to go to the hospital? Did you at least disinfect the wounds?” 

“I’m fine, Niall helped me” he mumbled, tossing the towel to her, which she caught with two hands before it could land on her face. 

“Harry!” She laughed, tossing it back at him. YN averted her gaze as he stood naked in front of her, not knowing if he wanted her to look.

He let the towel fall on the ground as he lowered the shirt he’d previously picked out on his head, then he slid on his grey sweats and let them hung low on his hips, not bothering to tie them.

“Are you hungry?” He said, closing the distance between them with two strides to get in front of her.

She nodded and rose her head to look up at him better, her lashes fluttered as she felt herself squirm under his dark gaze. Her heart clutched in her chest at the sight of his face. Did he really think she’d let it go that easily? 

“C’mon, then,” he lowered his hand to take hers in his, giving it a squeeze between his fingers.

“Wait.” She breathed out, grabbing his wrist with her free hand. Harry furrowed his brows, scared that she might want to open the conversation once again, but YN throw him a sweet smile and his gaze softened, “what?”

“Can we kiss a bit? I missed you” she whined, tugging his wrist to signal him she wanted him to sit on the bed with her. Harry complied and plopped down on the bed next to her, circling her waist with his arm and bringing her down on top of him as he lowered himself down on the center of the bed.

YN placed her palms on his chest to balance herself, letting out a squeal when he pinched her bum jokingly. 

Harry raised his head from the pillows to meet her lips, but when YN’s mouth got closer to his, he lowered once again, YN’s lips following his. She whined when he avoided her lips once again and took the matter in her own hands, pushing her lips against his mouth in a tender kiss.

She gave him small pecks at first, but after a while she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and Harry sighed in her mouth; this gave her access to push her tongue inside to brush against his, and she caressed his tongue with hers, intertwining it. His mouth was warm and wet, and he tasted like the mint gum he’s always chewing, but YN swore she could make out the faint ferrous taste of blood on his lips. 

YN loves kissing Harry. And YN thinks she must be drunk because she feels like she loves Harry, and not just kissing him. And she knows she’s supposed to talk to him. She knows she shouldn’t let it slide, and believe her, her heart shatters at the thought of someone hurting him. But he said everything was okay, and he said he didn’t want to talk. And YN loves him. And sometimes when you love someone you’re not ready to face the things that are hurting them.

When Harry started to feel himself get dizzy from the lack of air, he pulled away from her lips with a pop, not missing the whine that she let out, and when he opened his eyes, he laughed at the pout on her plushy lips.

“So greedy!” He exclaimed, swiping a thumb delicately to smooth the frown on her lips, and he couldn’t help the smile that twitched his mouth when YN puckered her lips and placed a gentle kiss against his finger.

-

“Look! There’s Styles” 

YN turned her head hastily when she heard her friend Mia mentioning her boyfriend. Mia nodded towards Harry once she gained the attention of the others.

She furrowed her brows as she watched Harry walk towards his table, holding a water bottle between his fingers. She wondered if he had already eaten or if he wasn’t hungry. 

YN’s lips twitched as she bit back the smile that was spreading across her lips. She had to cross her legs under the table to keep herself from just standing up and walk towards him, this private relationship thing was starting to get to her, and she didn’t know how much longer she could pretend she wasn’t in love with him.

His face still hadn’t completely healed and she frowned at that, but the bruise on his cheekbone was starting to fade and she thanked god the frozen peas she had pushed against the bruise while they watched tv had worked, otherwise she never would have heard the end of it.

“You got him pretty good” Mia laughed, elbowing in the stomach Logan, who was sitting right next to her. 

“We sure did!” He answered, rising his palm so Aiden, another one of her friends, who was sitting across from him and next to YN could high five him.

Everyone laughed at that, everyone but YN, who stared at Logan with furrowed brows. She felt as if she was being left out of a game she didn’t want to play.

“What are you talking about?” She said, interrupting the obnoxious laughter that had erupted at the table.

“You know Styles?” Aiden nodded his head in Harry’s direction and YN followed the nod with her eyes, muttering a ‘yes’ through gritted teeth when she laid her gaze on his table, “He pissed me off the other day in class, so really, he had it coming”.

“He… he pissed you off?” YN said, trying to control her tone to not attract too much attention on their table. 

“Harry corrected him” Amelia, who had been silently studying for her upcoming test, clarified, which earned her a glare and a muttered ‘shut up’ from Logan. 

Amelia just shrugged and said “it’s not his fault you didn't know who wrote the Odyssey”.

“So you picked a fight with him?” YN exclaimed, still amazed by that exchange. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her friends being the reason Harry was hurt. And to think she thought he was doing drugs! How could she be so silly! 

“He barely fought back. He’s such a pussy” Logan chuckled, picking up his can of coke and chugging it down in one gulp. 

YN’s face screwed up in a grimace at his words. She wanted to shout and toss the food in her plate at them, but even the school’s cafeteria’s food would be wasted on them.

“You were four against one” Mia rattled, shrugging her shoulders and chewing absentmindedly on her fork’s teeth.

“What’s  with you two?” Aiden rolled his eyes, motioning towards Mia and Amelia.

YN felt frozen in place and she knew in her heart she wasn’t being fair to Harry. Her friends had said more to defend him than she did, what the hell was her problem? She truly couldn’t believe her own friends would do something like that. They were always nice to her, but, now she knows, that didn’t mean anything. She refused to believe her friends were the type of guys that were nice only to girls or girls they liked and not nice in general, but she was beginning to think that was exactly the case.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” YN whispered, shyly. 

She wasn’t one to shy away from confrontation, but if it meant confrontation with Harry, because Harry never screamed at her and always took his time to hear her and understand her feelings, Aiden and Logan, she wasn’t so sure. Suddenly she was afraid of their reaction, and she took a big gulp, regretting her outburst.

“What was that?” Logan snapped his head towards her, and she knew once she took in the angered look on his face that he had heard her completely fine the first time.

YN throw a glance in Harry’s direction to make sure he was still there, and felt relieved once she spotted him talking animatedly with one of his friends, a blond guy she knew was called Niall. Of course, the cafeteria was swarming with students, but somehow she felt safe only with him around.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” She repeated, with more confidence this time. She felt confident in her motives. She was defending her boyfriend, and despite their relationship being private, she could feel herself shiver at the thought of someone hurting Harry ever again.

“Watch your mouth, YN” Aiden chirped in, warning her.

“No!” She shouted, “If you think hurting people is okay, I’ll have to ask you again. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“YN, calm down” Mia whispered once she noticed a couple of heads snap in their direction, tugging on her arm to gain her attention, but her eyes were focused on the boy sitting next to her.

She was fuming. 

“I’m not calming down,” she said, throwing a quick glance towards her friend. She averted her chair behind her and stood up, all attention shifted on their table with the screeching sound of the chair falling to the ground.

“Fucking assholes!” She exclaimed, “did he hurt your little fragile ego when he corrected you? He hurt you so much you had to hit him?” 

YN could feel everyone’s eyes on her but she didn’t care. Everyone in their school deserved to know what kind of people they were. She truly couldn’t believe she even associated with them in the first place! 

“You are calming down” Aiden rose to his feet and enclosed her wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly against the soft skin. 

YN whined a little and tried to free her wrist from his grip, but he only squeezed harder, and YN could feel his tight hold interrupting the blood’s circulation to her hand.

“Stop, you’re hurting me!” She squealed, tugging at her wrist once again.

Harry, who had been eyeing their exchange attentively, stood up from his seat and stomped angrily towards them, his friend Zayn following close behind him.

“What the fuck is going on!” He shouted once he reached them, and at this point YN knew they were putting on a show for everyone to watch.

“Harry it’s okay, just go” she whispered, scared they would hurt him again like they had before. She knew Harry would’ve never left her in a situation where she could’ve been hurt, but she wanted to protect him too, the best she could.

“Let her go” Harry said through gritted teeth, pushing against Aiden’s chest to make him loosen his grip.

Harry was taller than him and towered over him, but Aiden was such an asshole he wasn’t scared to fight guys bigger than him (Of course, Harry would say, he did that with an advantage of four against one).

“Look at that! YN has a fling with the freak!” Aiden laughed, taking a step back and releasing YN’s wrist from his hold. 

YN brought her other hand up to massage the reddened skin of her wrist, to soothe it a little, and both Harry and her got distracted as they inspected her damaged skin.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Aiden pushed YN toward Harry and she stumbled a bit, but he managed to catch her before she could fall face first on the ground.

YN grabbed the fabric of his shirt to balance herself, and Harry squeezed gently at her biceps to calm her. She looked frightened and angry still, but Harry knew she had nothing to do with this. It’s him they had a problem with, and he was determined to end this once and for all.

“Not only you don’t know basic greek mythology, you like hurting girls too, ah?” Harry pushed YN behind him and she walked backwards a little until she stumbled against a body behind her. She turned and saw Zayn standing right behind her, watching carefully Harry’s every move, ready to jump in if Aiden played unfairly. 

YN never really talked to Harry’s friends, but she was glad he had good people around him that were willing to get hurt to defend him. Just like she would.

YN turned her head once again to watch Harry, but this time he had grabbed the neck of Aiden’s shirt between his fingers, raising his other hand to punch him right on the nose. Then, Harry freed his shirt from his grip and Aiden stumbled backwards, falling to the ground while he brought a hand to his bloody nose. 

“Fuck” he muttered under his breath. 

After that, things got bad. YN barely remembers Logan making his way past her and Zayn and kicking Harry in his leg, making him fall on his knees. At that, Zayn ran to help his friend, throwing Logan on the ground and punching him repeatedly on his face.

The crowd around them had deepened and YN could make out the words ‘fight’ as her school mates shouted them, inciting what YN considered a carnage. She hated violence, and she hated that it was her fault the fight had erupted in the first place.

She isn’t lying when she says she was glad to hear the school’s principal run in the cafeteria, shouting the guys’s last names and finally breaking the fight.

-

Yn hurried down the hallway when she heard the school’s bell ring, smiling and waving at some of the people that said hi to her along the way. She made her way towards Mr. Smith’s class, sighing a breath of relief when she reached it. 

She opened the door and peeked her head inside, smiling once she saw a mop of brown curly hair.

She closed the door behind her once she entered, and Harry peeked his head sideways from under the desk, sitting cross legged on the floor, a metal bucket sitting next to him. 

“Are you almost done?” YN said, walking towards him. 

“Almost” he nodded, continuing scraping under the desk with the scoop the janitor had provided for him. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of gum I’ve scraped. I think I’m never chewing gum ever again!” He added, tossing the dried gum in the bucket. YN scrunched her nose at the sight.

“I still can’t believe he punished you too!” She exclaimed, lowering herself so she could sit on the floor next to him.

“Yeah… well- I did start the fight” Harry shrugged, smiling at her once she was in his line of sight.

“You were just defending me” she shook her head, closing her lips in a pout.

“I know, but still” Harry shrugged once again, leaning his face towards hers to press his lips briefly against hers in an affectionate peck.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were the ones who punched you?” She whispered against his lips, and at her words, Harry pulled back from her mouth and went back to his work quickly. 

YN frowned at that, worried she might have interrupted a nice moment between them with her big mouth, but after what felt like hours but were only seconds in reality, Harry said: “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose between them and me.”

She felt her chest warm with his words. She was satisfied with his answer and decided to let it go,  she knew Harry didn’t like confrontation and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. She had gotten her answers that day in the cafeteria, and she had never — not once — looked back. She had Harry, and he was worth more than all her friends put together.

She watched him scrape gums for almost an hour, letting him chatter about this new dystopian book he had started to read and that he thought she’d like (she wouldn’t, but it’s the thought that counts, YN figures).

After he’s done, they stop before his locker to gather some textbooks he needed to study and to gather his things all together. 

He’s handing the books to her as he fishes them out of his locker, asking her if she could hold them for him.

YN peeks at the last book on top of the pile she’s holding in her arms, and lets out a chuckle when she reads the title: Odyssey by Homer. 

“Harry” she says, and he mumbles a ‘mh’ while he’s busy closing his locker with the combination of numbers.

“Tell me again what you said to Aiden”

“Babyyy” he whined dragging the end of the pet name, rolling his eyes lovingly at her, “you already know what I said!”

“No” she giggled childishly, “i don’t remember…”

“Fine” Harry sighed, turning around and grabbing the books from her hold, he gestured for her to start walking towards the entrance, so they could finally go home and relax after the long day they’d had.

“I said, not only you don’t know basic greek mythology, you like hurting girls too” he repeated his words, but his tone was much more flat now and less serious than it had been in the cafeteria.

She throw an arm around his neck to lower his face close to hers, and Harry widened his eyes and scrunched his nose at the sudden movement, puckering his lips anyway to meet hers in a brief kiss.

“You are so hot!”

[davidtennan-t]

The Birthday Gifts

Rose has a very special gift idea for her Mum's Birthday, but to get it, she's going to need the help of her Uncle.

Words: 5947

If you crave some Fourteen and Rose shenanigans but also lots of Fourteen and Donna angst then look no further than this fic, it’s got it all! Dedicated to my bestie @kottekonst ❤️ Also available on AO3

-

Today was Donna’s 53rd birthday.

The Temple-Noble residence was, therefore, rather busy for a Friday evening. The gathering was shaping up to be moderate – Donna never liked a huge fuss, but plenty of people were soon to be mingling in the large backyard, under a hired tent and the setting sunlight.

Rose had already secured her mother a gift. A bracelet, along with one of her very own handcrafted plushies. It was something of a birthday tradition and Rose was happy with her chosen little critter.

Except, she wasn’t, deep down.

There had been a niggling idea in Rose’s mind for weeks, now, and despite her best efforts to shove the idea aside and be happy with the sparkling bracelet wrapped in a gift box under her bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to do more for her Mum. A true show of appreciation that could speak louder than any words could, without making it too… cringe.

There was a gift much more special and personal out there in the world. All day at school, her thoughts had never been far from this gift… it couldn’t be bought, nor could it be found in any shop.

It also wasn’t the correct year.

It was why collecting this gift had at first seemed impossible to Rose. How could she ever fly herself a whole year into the past?

Most people didn’t have an uncle who could navigate time and space, however.

He was retired, of course, supposed to be resting – and he did, mostly. But nobody enjoyed bending the rules of retirement more so than the Time Lord who was supposed to be doing it.

Especially when it came to his niece.

“So, are you in?”

Sat in the living room away from the hustle and bustle in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea made by none other than the teenage girl perched across from him, the Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“I can see why you made me the tea, now,” the Doctor regretfully replied, having listened intently to Rose’s idea for the past five minutes.

It had been a particularly strange day, on his part. Social gatherings and parties were so very domestic and human, but he was very much part of the family now. He’d helped Shaun set up the tent, fixed the broken stereo system and even dabbled in blowing up balloons under the watchful eye of Sylvia.

Anything for his Donna.

He’d finished the balloons which were all scattered around him and he'd wandered into the kitchen to make a well-earned cup of tea, when Rose had offered to make him one. Alarm bells should have rung right there and then.

“Come on, I know it will mean so much to Mum – I really want to try and make her happy,” Rose encouraged, sat on the edge of the sofa practically shaking with anticipation.

“You do make her happy, every day,” the Doctor reminded her. He never would have thought he’d be the one trying to discourage sneaking away on a quick trip.

Five months ago, they would have been in the TARDIS already.

This was different, however.

“Not like this, though… please? People will start arriving in a couple of hours and by that point it will be too late. I know the exact day, time, and everything… June 6th, 2023, it will only take two seconds, I promise.”

The Doctor glanced behind his shoulder to make sure nobody was eavesdropping.

"Couldn't we go tomorrow?" the Doctor asked.

"We could, but it wouldn't be the same. Today is her birthday and it just feels... right."

“That's fair, but it could be dangerous... you do understand the risks of bumping into your past self? It would create a paradox that would-”

“-devastate reality around me, I know,” Rose whined, but she grew more serious when she saw the look on the Doctor’s face. “I won’t bump into myself, or Mum… I know exactly when and where to go.”

Delicately deciding if he could truly trust his niece, which he would any day, the Doctor thought of a further barrier. A barrier related to the here and now. “Let’s say, hypothetically, I agreed to take you… how would we get to the TARDIS?” the Doctor asked.

The kitchen they would need to walk through to get to his beloved ship, sat on her perch surrounded by flowers, was currently occupied by Donna and Sylvia, sorting through the mountain of buffet food.

Rose frowned. “I should be able to walk into the garden no problem, but if we both walked through then-”

“-Donna would immediately know what we were up to,” the Doctor finished, looking thoughtful as he took another mouthful of tea and pondered their options. “Listen, I think it’s all a bit too risky. Even if we somehow managed to get past her, it’s her birthday, and she told me specifically the TARDIS was out of bounds today – unless there was an emergency.”

“She always says that, though - and this… sort of…is an emergency?” Rose tried to plea, flexing her hands with a strained smile.

The Doctor placed his now empty mug on the coffee table and turned to Rose, his expression solemn, and one that clearly meant no.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I won’t risk you getting into trouble.”

Definitely a no.

Rose sighed. Then, she curved her mouth downwards, stuck out her bottom lip, and glared straight at the Doctor.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, even though he knew exactly what she was doing.

Rose didn’t reply. She sighed again, for the dramatic effect.

“Now listen, I told you, it’s too risky,” he replied airily.

The pout didn’t faulter.

“That won’t work on me, y’know, so you might as well stop now.”

Still, the pout remained.

The Doctor’s nose twitched. He patted his knees a couple of times, trying his hardest to focus on something else to ignore Rose’s silent plea – didn’t Donna ask him to help with the sandwiches? Oh! There was a gift for Donna he needed to wrap upstairs, wasn’t there?

Gift… he hadn’t even asked Rose what her particularly special gift was. Was it something Donna had lost? It dangerously fuelled his curiosity, and he risked a glance over at the teenager again, who was still pouting in his direction.

The Doctor's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, now rocking gently back and forth as he tried to resist the temptation, but it grew harder as each second ticked by.

"Please, Uncle Spaceman?" Rose said quietly.

"Oh no, don't do that... this isn't... I-I can't..." he stuttered, yielding no result.

How could he say no to her? Clearly, the gift was something really special if her persistence was anything to go by. Something more than a simple gift... it seemed so very special. If it would make Donna happy, then what did he have to lose? Rose would be careful, like she always was. She always listened to him, never wandered off.

The Doctor's entire posture suddenly sagged, and his eyes closed.

There was nobody who could pull his leg like his niece.

Rose stopped pouting, holding her breath with a trepid tilt of the head.

After a moment of defeated silence, the Doctor reopened his eyes and finally spoke. “Fine, I’ll take you,” he said, ignoring the glee of excitement out of the corner of his eye, “but we’re both taking the blame this time, you hear?” he added with a point of his finger, even if he would be the first to defend her if it came down to it.

“Deal,” Rose replied quickly, still engrossed in her victory, but relieved and elated she was getting the chance to go through with her plan. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see the look on her Mum’s face.

A smirk crossed the Doctor’s lips, unintentionally feeling very proud of Rose’s persistence. Would he regret this all later? Probably. Would it help knowing Rose was happy? Absolutely.

“You’ve turned me into a soft touch,” the Doctor mumbled as he stood from the sofa, stretching out his back to release the knots from his period of sitting.

“You’ve always been a soft touch,” Rose replied with a smirk.

“Oi - don’t push it. I might be somewhat retired but I'm still the Lord of Time,” the Doctor jibbed back, “but if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me, no matter how much it will sting when we get back.”

Rose chuckled. “So, wait… we’re banned from going into the TARDIS, our route to said TARDIS is blocked but I can go out into the garden without raising suspicion… how are you going to get to the TARDIS without going through Mum? Last time we snuck away only Great-Grandad was home, and he never tells on us anyway,” she pondered, “we’ll both have to go through the kitchen one way or another.”

There was no direct access to the back garden other than through the kitchen, nor was there any way to reach the blue box by leaving the house through the front door. There was, however, a little secret the Doctor had kept to himself, in case of emergency.

“Oh, don’t you worry yourself. You’re looking at the man who snuck out of the biggest high-security prison in the Silfrax Galaxy – twice. In one week.”

Rose looked fairly impressed, but the Doctor found it was getting harder and harder to impress the teenager as time went on. There was only so many times he could tell a story about escaping a fleet of Daleks before it grew a little repetitive.

“Tough crowd,” the Doctor uttered, straightening his tartan waistcoat with a sniff, “I’ll use the cellar window, easily done.”

“Wait, you use the cellar window to escape!?” Rose gawped.

“Rose Temple-Noble, how dare you insinuate such a thing. I used it once a couple of weeks after I arrived to get away from Sylvia and her book club,” the Doctor explained, “I do love my dear old mother-in-law, but there’s only so much you can take of them misquoting Charles Dickens. I did offer to take her and the other members to meet him, but she refused… so, I snuck out the window to go for a walk, instead. Haven’t used it since.”

This time, Rose did look impressed.

“Right then… meet you by the TARDIS in three minutes?”

-

Once Rose strolled calmly into the kitchen, complimented her Gran on the very well-presented quiche and offered to help her Mum with the sandwiches – which she knew would be met with a no since nobody could ever tamper with her mother’s sandwiches – she expertly explained she was going to lock up her crafting shed and wouldn’t be too long.

Neither Donna nor Sylvia noticed the Time Lord slipping through the cellar door in the hallway.

“Don’t close those patio doors or we’ll lose the breeze!” Sylvia reminded her granddaughter, who smiled and nodded, trying to edge her way towards the open doors. Donna, who’s hair was wrapped in curlers, suddenly looked a little curious as she added more egg to a tray of sandwiches.

“Where’s your uncle, anyway? He said he was finishing up those balloons an hour ago and that was the last I saw him,” Donna asked.

“Oh, he’s just… he’s just, tinkering! Yeah, tinkering… with the balloons. Balloon tinkering,” Rose replied, much less convincingly than she would have liked. It was a miracle her mother bought it.

“Fair enough – remember, no sneaking off in that blue box, the pair of you. It’s my birthday, I don’t want Sontarans storming the garden, or Ood showing up to cater for the party,” Donna warned, pointing a fork in Rose’s direction, but it was with a motherly smile.

Rose nodded, despite the sudden urge to stop what she was doing and listen to her Mum. Yes, this would make her mad… but it would be so incredibly worth it. “Yes, I know… I’ll be back soon.”

Instead of turning left to go to her crafting shed, Rose made sure neither Donna or Sylvia were looking before she quickly ducked right, under the kitchen window and sneaking around the bushes. Once in the clear, Rose quickly raced over to the blue box basking in the late-afternoon sunshine with a victorious shine in her eyes, the rest of the garden empty.

The Doctor was nowhere to be seen, so Rose leaned against the TARDIS and decided to wait for her uncle to appear.

Rose waited.

And waited.

Then, just to fuel her nerves even further, she waited some more.

Worryingly tapping her foot, the anxious teenager tried to peak around the greenery and flowers. The cellar window was positioned in a clearing surrounded by the bushes her Great-Grandfather loved to take care of, with stone steps leading down to some tables and chairs. There was no sign of her uncle emerging from that clearing.

“Come on, Mum’s going to catch us,” Rose uttered under her breath with a trepid glance at the open patio doors.

“Pst – Rose!”

An urgent, quiet whisper from behind the bushes. Rose perked up at the sound of the Doctors voice.

“What is it?!” Rose replied in a hushed whisper.

“Come here!” came the reply.

“Why?”

“Just come here!”

Rolling her eyes with a frustrated sigh, Rose carefully made her way towards the clearing of bushes, sneaking down the steps while shooting worried stares at the doors. At least the bushes would keep them hidden while in that area – for now.

“Doctor, we need to go, before Mum see-”

Rose was suddenly face to face with the Doctor – or rather, face to face with half of him. He was poking out from the cellar window, evidently agitated with his hands pressed against the wall, his face contorted into a grimace.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she asked.

The Doctor stopped his pushing and glanced up at his niece.

“What does it look like I’m doing?!”

“Oi, don’t get snappy with me, Mum won't like that,” Rose replied, folding her arms while glancing to make sure Donna hadn’t spotted them.

“Well I don't think she'll like any of this if she finds out what we’re doing – now help get me out of here!” the Doctor reiterated, his strained noises making the already anxious teenager even more nervous.

“Just… I dunno, shimmy your through?” Rose replied, somewhat confused.

“Shimmy!? Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” the Doctor replied in another snap, still struggling with the window to prove his point, “See? I can’t!”

“Well, why not?”

The Doctor’s expression fell into a serious but embarrassed glare. He stopped his efforts with a sigh, his diverted gaze looking everywhere but Rose.

“I can’t move,” he replied, in the quietest, most meek tone, like he’d just been caught by Donna with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Say again?” Rose asked.

“I can’t move,” the Doctor repeated. Still far too quiet for Rose to hear.

“Louder for the people in the back, please?” Rose retorted exasperatedly, putting a hand to her ear – completely forgetting they were supposed to be escaping silently.

“I can’t move!” the Doctor finally exclaimed - much too loud, as footsteps suddenly echoed just inside the patio doors. Rose gasped and quickly ducked down beside the Doctor, who grew as stiff as a board.

Donna’s mop of pinned-up ginger hair was visible even through the leaves and blossoming flowers as her head poked out into the garden.

Rose held her breath. The Doctor held his breath, his slightly shaking frame making the spikes of his hair tremble.

“Strange, thought I heard a noise,” Donna shrugged, and with that, she turned away and was gone.

After the pair released their held in breaths, Rose turned her attention back to the Doctor, who was now gritting his teeth.

“Are you saying you’re stuck?” Rose whispered, glancing at the cellar window. Now she was closer, it did look rather tight, with the Time Lord squeezed into it uncomfortably – it was a small window, just big enough for a skinny alien to navigate. Or rather, had been big enough. “How can you be stuck?”

“Keep your voice down!” the Doctor quipped, eyebrows tensed as he glared at his niece, who shot him a very disapproving look.

“Oi! I am! It’s you that’s stressing!” Rose replied while waving her hands at him, “I thought you said you’d used this window before?”

“Yeah, well, that was a five months ago,” the Doctor replied, attempting to tug himself forwards again, but with no result, “clearly, I’ve been enjoying retirement a little too much,” he added through clenched teeth.

Rose watched as he tugged again, realising what her uncle meant – he strained, seemingly slipping through, but at such a slow pace they’d be there for all the party guests to see if he didn’t hurry.

“Come on, you can do it,” Rose encouraged.

It was no wonder his suits had been feeling slightly tighter recently. Five months of ‘three meals a day, Spaceman’ and ‘look, here’s a packet of your favourite biscuits’... and how could he forget lovely little old Mrs Fredrick from next door who always popped around with the odd pie or batch of brownies?

Another few precious seconds ticked by, and the Doctor eventually slumped in defeat, out of breath and still very much caught in the window.

“This is not good,” he admitted, “well, worse than not good, actually… very bad, more like.”

“Okay, okay, chill, we can fix this,” Rose tried to reassure him despite her growing concern. “You just need to twist around a little bit, shift your weight, I’m sure you’ll pop right out.”

The Doctor tried that. A little more progress… which only resulted in more tightness. Eventually, he stopped again, long fingers clutching the soft grass as he tried to catch his breath.

By now, guilt was starting to bubble into Rose’s chest – she’d caused this. If they were caught now, she dreaded to think what her mother would say.

“Listen, let’s just call this whole thing off, I’m not having you hurt yourself because I wanted to-” Rose began, but the Doctor quickly cut her off.

“There is absolutely no way we’re giving up now – just because I’m having a little bit of trouble with this window, does not equal defeat, right?” the Doctor said and he gave Rose his most reassuring smile, despite his predicament.

Rose instantly felt more at ease and she smiled back.

“A little bit of trouble?” Rose questioned, finding humour among the urgency, but also incredibly grateful to the Doctor for not giving in so easily.

“Hey - you try saying no to lovely old Mrs Fredrick when she’s stood at the front door holding an apple pie that she made ‘just for you’,” the Doctor retorted.

It was true… Rose wondered how anyone could say no to that sweet old lady when she stood in her little flowery oven mitts with her baked goods.

“Okay, don't worry, we can do this – I have an idea,” Rose confidently told the Doctor and determinedly got to her feet, holding out both her hands after sparing a glance to the patio doors to check for any sign of her mother. “Give me your hands.”

The Doctor, who admittedly was extremely eager to be free from the window to continue helping his niece, didn’t hesitate to reach up to grasp her outstretched hands. It was an awkward position for his long, thin body, but this was their last chance.

“If your Mum saw this I think she’d laugh rather than get mad,” the Doctor commented.

“Let’s not test the waters – ready?”

And with that, Rose leaned back and began pulling.

They were both quietly delighted when the Doctor began to move immediately, quicker than his lone efforts, but it was still precariously tight for the poor Time Lord.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the patio door.

As if playing musical statues, Rose and the Doctor froze with their hands still clutched together, the Doctor awkwardly stretched with Rose leaning back on her feet, her curly hair swaying in the light breeze.

Donna appeared again and she held out a hand, evaluating the settling beams of the sun.

“Still warm out, Mum - fancy finishing those cocktails in the fridge before we start decorating? I’ll go grab some ice from the cellar, we’ve ran out up here. And I need to find Spaceman, wherever he is, I need help with the rest of these sandwiches,” Donna said as she pulled back her hand from the sun beam she’d been testing and strolled inside.

Rose was sure she’d never seen such panic overtake anyone’s expression as quickly as it overcame the Doctors.

“Rose Temple-Noble, get me out of this window, now.”

“On it.”

Rose resumed her efforts with an added franticness, while the Doctor tried to wriggle the rest of his trapped waist through the window.

After a tense few seconds, he eventually slid through, and Rose gently placed his hands down onto the grass. He was clearly winded from the effort and his arms shook as he tried to lift himself up.

“OI!”

Donna had been expecting to go to the spare freezer for the ice without a care in the world – oh, she loved those cocktails from Lidl.

What she hadn’t been expecting was the sight of her best friend’s lanky legs dangling inside the cellar window.

“What the hell is going on?!” She yelled as she began to march down the old wooden stairs, completely bewildered at the sight.

Outside, Rose practically flung herself at her uncle, helping to heave his exhausted form forwards enough to get him moving. They were both in fight or flight and, in that moment, they both chose flight - no matter the consequences.

Inside, Donna was fast approaching the flailing tartan legs.

“Get your skinny backside back in this house!”

“Come on, come on!” Rose urged the Doctor.

“Is that you Rose? Oh, just you both wait until I-”

Donna reached out to grab one of the disappearing Converse but missed by a mere centimetre as the Doctor’s shoes finally disappeared through the window.

In the time it took her to recover from the near miss and look through the glass, she saw the retreating figures of the Doctor and Rose running through the bushes.

And by the time she’d raced back upstairs and past a very confused Sylvia holding a tray of slightly overcooked sausage rolls, Donna knew it was much too late.

-

“You have ten seconds to explain yourself – go.”

Stood before a very irritated Donna Noble in the back garden, the Doctor and Rose glanced at each other.

For Donna, it had only been two minutes since she’d discovered the Doctor’s dangling legs in the cellar. Two minutes had been enough for her to piece together a familiar puzzle, and so she'd angrily removed the curling blocks from her hair and stood in the back garden, waiting for the familiar whirrs of the TARDIS returning.

“Donna, we’ve only been gone for two minutes, and in my defence-” the Doctor began explaining but was quickly shushed by Donna.

“Not now, Spaceman – Rose, what do you have to say for yourself?”

The Doctor promptly closed his mouth and placed his hands behind his back.

Ah, family…

“Mum, I know this looks bad, but please, don’t be mad, I really wanted to-”

“To what? Fly off to some dangerous alien planet - nearly fall into a black hole? I told both of you I didn’t want anyone jaunting off on my birthday, and yet look where we are!” Donna stated, holding out her arms. Despite the anger she’d already prepared for, Rose stepped forwards with both hands secured behind her back, holding the very item she hoped would be able to save both herself and the Doctor from a grounding.

“Mum, please listen – this was all my idea, and no, we didn’t go flying off looking for trouble. I-… I wanted to get you something, for your birthday.”

Donna’s expression softened.

“Wait – you snuck off to get me a present?” Donna replied, not excusing it, but it was far from what she had expected to hear.

At Rose’s nod, Donna softened even more.

“Rose, darling, you know I’m always telling you not to make a fuss – the Doctor is supposed to be resting, not flying you around time and space to go shopping. This is the third time in two months you two have gone flying off together without me knowing… I don’t ground you both to be mean, I do it because I worry about you. Both of you.”

The Doctor looked a little meek as Donna shot him a glare to make sure he knew the impact of her words. He diverted his gaze downwards, as Rose took another defiant step forwards.

“But if I told you where we were going you would have said no, and it would have ruined the surprise, so…”

Donna’s hard stare returned, but she was no longer furious. “Maybe if you’d asked me first, I would have said yes, but instead, you had your uncle climbing through our cellar window? You both lied to me - on my birthday, no less.”

The Doctor didn’t just see but could physically sense the excitement dripping away from Rose’s posture and he couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

Domestics never used to be his thing. Once over, he would have run away and hid from a confrontation of this very nature. Now, it was time to defend his niece.

“Donna, it’s really not her fault – I agreed to do it, for her,” he explained, “and I really think you should look at what she’s gotten you.”

Donna sighed. Even she could see her daughter’s excitement dwindling… her kind, beautiful, wonderful daughter, no less.

“Okay, fine,” Donna gave in with a small smile, and Rose shot the Doctor a thankful smile before she revealed the object from behind her back, holding it out for her Mum to take.

This was it.

“Happy Birthday, Mum.” Rose smiled.

Donna reached out and gently took the gift from Rose.

It was a crumpled piece of paper.

“Oh… what’s this?” Donna questioned.

“Remember last year when we were walking through the park and you pulled out your purse, but it was really windy, and everything flew out? Receipts, money…” Rose trailed off.

It took a moment, but Donna soon recalled the event Rose described.

“Yeah, it was that cheap old purse from Primark, fell to bits, didn’t it… and I lost…”

This time, Donna’s voice trailed off. She immediately began to unfold the crumpled paper, which was dirty, but still intact. When the paper finally opened, Donna felt her throat begin to tighten, her eyes began to burn.

“You lost the last thing Grandad ever wrote down for you.”

Donna held the paper like it was made of crystal… like it was the most precious thing in the entire Universe.

On the paper, in Geoff’s handwriting, the words read:

You’ll do amazing things, my girl. Love, Dad.

“You never told me, but I knew after Dad said you’d lost it that day,” Rose explained, “I remember I watched it fly away into bush and I didn’t say anything, because I thought it was just a random bit of paper - not anything important. So, now you have it back.”

Donna sniffed, reaching up to wipe the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Never would she have thought she’d be holding this again.

“So… y-you went back in time to pick it up?” Donna asked, shakily.

Rose nodded.

“The Doctor took us to the exact day, a few minutes after we’d originally left the park. I was worried it might have blown away, but it was there, in that same bush. No trips to Mars, no sneaking off to the 1800’s, no-”

Rose was interrupted by her mother’s tight embrace.

“You don’t have to say anymore, sweetheart,” Donna said, still clutching the paper in her hand, “I forgive you for sneaking off. I’m so sorry for being so mad,” Donna apologised, holding onto her daughters curls tightly. "Thank you so much."

Rose lifted her arms and hugged her Mum back, smiling with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

“Go and show your Gran, she’ll be just as surprised as me,” Donna suggested, pulling back from the hug to cup her daughters face. “And I mean it this time when I say no more sneaking away. This-” she placed the paper into Rose’s hand, “was more than I ever could have asked for.”

Before Rose even considered making her way back to the house, she turned to run up to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around him tightly. The Time Lord, having stood in absolute silence with a slight wetness in his eyes, quickly returned Rose’s embrace.

“Thank you,” Rose said.

The Doctor didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled back and gave her a wink. A wink that said everything he needed it to.

The garden was silent once more as Donna watched her daughter retreat into house, elated at the surprise gift and kindness of the gesture.

Suddenly, the silence was broken.

“Am I forgiven?”

Donna closed her eyes and shook her head – but the faintest of humorous smiles sat on her thinned lips.

“I’m still debating on that,” Donna stated, turning to face the Doctor, “you did promise me you wouldn’t fly off under any circumstances today.”

“Oh, come on,” The Doctor replied, “when she told me her idea, I couldn’t say no… it touched both my hearts, I’ll have you know. She’s as thoughtful and kind as her mother.”

“Oh no you don’t, Brainbox, flattery will get you nowhere,” Donna jibbed, but she was smiling as the Doctor approached.

“You know I don’t mind you taking her on the odd trip here and there, but when I said I worry, I mean it… if something happened to you while you were out, what would happen to Rose?”

“I wouldn’t let anything like that happen, Donna… HADS, remember?”

“Yeah, well, the HADS are one thing… but alien potatoes pointing rifles at my daughter would be another, just to name one example.”

“Again,” the Doctor said, “wouldn’t let it happen. I try not to go looking for trouble as much, these days.”

The look on Donna’s face grew sharper and he realised he couldn’t be so nonchalant.

“Okay… I’m sorry.”

Donna sighed. “I know you are,” she replied, nudging the Doctor in the side with her arm, “you just can’t resist that niece of yours, can you?”

Of course he couldn’t. She was his world now… they all were.

“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘p’.

Donna slinked an arm around the Doctor’s waist, and he in turn wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When Donna squeezed him however, he unintentionally winced and let go.

Surprised, Donna immediately loosened her own grip.

“Spaceman? You alright?”

The Doctor quickly recovered from the sudden stinging sensation and shook his head. “Oh… don’t worry, it’s nothing. Just a little strain from… well, never mind. Moving on - still need help with the sandwiches?”

“Strain from what?” Donna asked, concerned enough to ignore his attempt at diverting the conversation.

“Nothing, it’s honestly nothing, Donna, I promise,” the Doctor sniffed.

“Doctor, tell me,”

“It’s nothing!”

That clearly meant it was something.

“Wait a minute…” Donna declared, her concern losing its edge, but not entirely, “that’s right, I remember now - you were hanging halfway out of that cellar window when I caught you.”

The Doctor’s cheeks were suddenly the same shade as the pink flowers in the nearest plant pot. “You mean nearly caught me,” he corrected her, quietly.

Donna inhaled. "Okay, nearly caught you...any reason why?"

"No."

“Aw… did the retired Time Lord have a little trouble escaping through a window?”

“What? Nah…” the Doctor pied off, a little too quickly, “walk in the park, that was. Just a bit of an awkward angle. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Donna reached out and prodded the Doctor in the middle – where her finger would have once met complete flatness, it instead sunk into a small mound of softness which filled out the once loose shirt. When the Doctor instantly swatted her hand away with a grimace, she knew.

She knew her best friend, his expressions, his body language... that sadness lingering behind his eyes.

“Oh, Spaceman,” she sighed while gazing up into those round brown eyes. The Doctor noticed and raised his eyebrows.

“What?” he uttered.

Donna gently moved her hands to the front of the Doctor’s stomach, between his open waistcoat.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor asked, growing stiff again at the prospect of his sore skin being jabbed, but he was surprised to feel a gentle touch, Donna’s palms resting on his tiny belly.

“Nothing, just… I’ve noticed these past few weeks how much healthier you’re looking. More there.”

More there? The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“But… I was there, here, wherever, before, wasn’t I?” the Doctor said in a high-pitched squeak.

“You were, but not like this,” Donna replied, thinking back to watching the two Doctors fighting for the fate of humanity with a ball – the new Doctor had exuded so much energy and youth… her Doctor, this Doctor, had looked pale, thin, exhausted. “I was so worried about you, all that time leading up to that bloody game of catch. You were burned out. Thin as a pin, remember?”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today,” the Doctor replied.

“Yeah well,” Donna began, “seeing you like this, with a bit of meat on your bones and your face looking less gaunt and sunken in… it’s on par with Rose’s surprise gift. I don’t want fancy watches or spa days for my birthday. I want my best friend to be healthy… that is such a wonderful gift. And I've never been happier to realise you had trouble squeezing out of a window.”

The Doctor was silent. Donna’s sincerity was finally beginning to sink in as he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when no words came out.

Yes, he had days he struggled… oh, sometimes he could scream and cry into any open abyss. Wounds would flare, his mind would play tricks on him, or he’d spot someone on the street resembling Amy, Clara, or Bill… and he’d want to run. This extra weight... he hadn't realised it, but the doubts had crept up.

But Donna. She kept him grounded. His family kept him grounded – and hearing such soft, sweet words made him feel better about ever getting caught in that bloody window.

“I only want what’s best for you, Spaceman… and this,” Donna said, rubbing her hand softly over the Doctors tighter shirt, “tells me we must be doing something right.”

Tears were blurring his vision now. His throat felt constricted, and his lower lip wobbled.

“You could never do wrong by me. Any of you,” he replied, in the quietest, most fragile whimper.

Donna always expected to have a little cry on her birthday, every year – but now, for the second time that afternoon, she wanted to cry again and let her tears build.

“Come here, you big old softie,” she said, moving her hands to pull the Doctor firmly into a hug. He chuckled through his own tears and fell into Donna’s arms, his head tucking against her shoulder – and she held him. Firmly but softly. Quietly, but with the odd sniff from both of them.

“And for the record, Spaceman – yes, I do forgive you.”

The Doctor’s wobbling lip crept into a smile.

"Happy birthday, Donna Noble."

[helloalycia]

the Clarks [three] // alicia clark

summary: now that Nick has finally returned from rehab, you both have to start considering what happens following graduation.

warning/s: mentions of relapsing, drugs and alcoholism.

author's note: it’s a bit late again, my bad! but here’s part 3, hope you like it 🥰

one / two / four / five / masterlist / wattpad

18 years old...

Time had flown so quickly since Nick returned home and, before I knew it, we were counting down the days until graduation. There was only a week left before we'd both be walking onstage to collect our diplomas – something we were both surprised to achieve, but nonetheless grateful.

We were laying on his roof the evening before our last week in school, staring up at the stars and chatting about anything and everything. It was one of those moments you didn't want to end because you were at peace and nothing could change that.

"Are you gonna leave if I pull out some weed?" he asked suddenly, ruining the moment.

I groaned quietly. "Nick..."

He laughed quietly, already pulling out a joint and lighting it. "It's only weed, it won't kill me."

I gave him a disapproving look. He was supposed to be clean, but he'd been using weed on and off for the past few weeks. It was better than much worse drugs out there, but it still worried me in case he got addicted again.

He breathed in before sighing with relief as he got more comfortable, moving one arm behind his head to use as a pillow.

"What do you think you're gonna do after school's finished?" I asked him once it fell quiet again.

"Dunno," he said honestly.

"Haven't you applied for any colleges?"

He snickered, as if I'd said something amusing. "Nope. Mum's been on my back about it, but I don't know if I want that right now. Why force it?"

I hummed in acknowledgement, admiring the few stars dotted in the sky. "You've been through a lot this past year. Maybe you should use this time to focus on yourself for a while."

He put his joint to his lips once more before handing it over to me. "Maybe. What about you?"

I quirked a brow, looking between me and the joint. He tried not to laugh as he waved it in the air.

"C'mon, it won't kill you," he teased.

I sighed, figuring it would be okay to let loose just this once. Accepting the joint, I took a smoke and pulled a face at the taste. I'd had weed before, but only a little, and aside from the momentary high it gave me, I wasn't a huge fan.

"I don't know either," I finally answered his question. "Not properly anyway."

He laughed as he nudged me. "Yeah you do. C'mon. Tell me."

I shrugged. "I'll be working full time at the diner, hopefully only for the year. They said they'd take me on. I'm saving to go to college."

"How wise," he joked, making me smile and roll my eyes.

I smoked some more, letting myself fall into nothing as I embraced the silence, and then Nick and I both turned to the left when we heard a noise on the roof.

"Gee, thanks for the invite." It was Alicia.

Nick groaned lightheartedly. "Go away. I'm trying to hang out with my friend and you're ruining it."

I slapped his arm playfully. "Shut up, Nick. She can join us."

"I was going to anyway," Alicia said before laying down beside me.

Nick grumbled to himself as I chuckled, then I passed her the joint. She gladly accepted, smoking it, before glancing over at me.

"So, what were you talking about?" she asked.

"What Y/N's gonna do after graduation," Nick filled her in.

She hummed, looking back to the sky. "Working, right?"

"Uh-huh," I confirmed.

"If only we could all get straight A's like you, Leashy," Nick teased.

"If you tried, you could, idiot," she retorted, making me chuckle as he scoffed.

The three of us stayed up there for a little while longer, talking nonsense, getting semi-high and preparing ourselves for the last week of school tomorrow. By the time the sky started spinning above me, I knew it was probably time to pack it in for the evening, but before I could say anything, Alicia spoke up from beside me.

"You'll still be around, right?" she asked. "Afterwards?"

It took me a few seconds longer than usual to realise she was talking about after I graduate, and I looked over at her, nodding.

"Of course," I said. "Where else would I go?"

She smiled softly, eyes dilated and half-lidded at the same time, and just like me, she was slightly out of it. It didn't help that I couldn't seem to look away from her, and I wasn't sure if the moment was abnormally long or if I was too high to make sense of it, but I couldn't stop thinking about how pretty she looked. About how much I wanted to kiss her right now. About how I was certain I'd stay by her side as long as I could because she meant so much to me, more than I'd ever let on.

When I found my thoughts drifting, I looked up at the sky again and blinked, suddenly coming out of my weed-induced daze. That was weird, thinking of Alicia like that. She was my best friend's little sister and she thought of me as family. I was being weird. Oh, God.

Massaging my head briefly, I began to sit up. This is why I wasn't a weed person, especially not whilst laying next to the girl I had major feelings for.

"You okay?" Alicia asked, and Nick nudged me with his foot, his way of checking in.

"Yeah, just tired," I half-lied, because it was kind of true. They didn't need to know the rest. "I'm gonna call it a night."

"We all should," Alicia agreed. "Early start tomorrow."

I hummed in agreement, and avoided looking at Alicia for the rest of the evening.

Graduation day finally arrived, and though my mum didn't care enough to see me collect my diploma, I still had the Clarks standing in my corner, making it worthwhile.

The last thing I expected was for Madison and Alicia to throw Nick and I a joint celebratory party at their house after the ceremony. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me – the other nice things also being from them, funnily enough – and I definitely cried. Nick appreciated it too, but he was never a fan of these sorts of things. Either way, I was grateful enough for the both us.

Madison had invited some of the neighbours and Alicia had invited some of her friends to hang out with. It was a small affair, but I didn't have anyone special to me other than them anyway, so I loved it nonetheless.

It was at this party where I finally met Alicia's boyfriend, Matt. He was nice enough when she introduced him and he seemed to treat her the way she deserved. Truthfully, there wasn't a single fault. And yet, I still didn't like him. I knew why, but that didn't matter. My feelings didn't. So, I played nice and avoided them like the plague, as one does.

After conversing with everyone, I took a breather in the corner of the garden where some food was laid out. Nick found me there, revealing that he was heading off.

"So soon?" I asked with confusion "This party is mainly for you, Nick. You can't just leave."

He waved a dismissive hand. "No one will care. Besides, you'll still be here. I'm gonna go hang out with Gloria."

Gloria was his friend from rehab, and though she seemed lovely, the two of them didn't seem to bring out the best in one another. Still, it was clear she was more than a friend to him, so I couldn't comment.

"Why don't you invite her here?" I suggested, before popping some fruit in my mouth. "Everyone seems to be bringing their partners."

He chuckled, giving me a look. "Firstly, Gloria isn't my partner. Secondly, that technically leaves you out. Where's your partner, Y/N?"

"Non existent, arsehole."

"Hopefully not for long," he said between laughter, before hugging me. "See you later."

I sighed as I watched him leave. It was his day too, and if he wanted to celebrate with Gloria, who was I to stop him? My eyes drifted from his retreating figure to the other party guests mingling in the garden, and then they settled on Alicia and Matt, lingering without meaning to. She was giggling at something he said and it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

It was stupid to still like her after all this time, especially when she had a boyfriend, but I truly couldn't help it.

"How's my new graduate doing?" Madison suddenly appeared, earning my attention.

I returned her smile and straightened up. "I'm good, Madison. Thank you again for doing all this. It's wonderful."

"You gotta stop thanking me," she said with amusement, before standing beside me with her drink and looking out at everyone. I wondered what she wanted, but before I could ask, she said, "I got you a little something."

She pulled out an envelope from behind her back and held it out to me.

"Oh, Madison, you really didn't have to. This party is more than enough," I said, attempting to decline, but she shook it for emphasis.

"Stop it, Y/N, just take it."

It didn't feel right to, but it was also rude to decline her sweet gesture, so I reluctantly accepted the envelope and opened it. My jaw immediately dropped when I pulled out a cheque for five thousand dollars, addressed to me.

"It should cover most of your time at community college, right?" she asked innocently, like she didn't know.

"Madison, I..." Five thousand dollars? That was more than I'd saved in the past three years! "I could never take this. I– What the hell?"

"It's yours now," she assured me. "A gift."

I glanced at her, seeing her kindness reflected in her eyes, the same one she offered to me ever since I moved in next door. But this was too much. I couldn't accept it.

Ignoring her, I put the cheque back in the envelope and tried to give it back to her, but she refused, hiding her hands in her pockets.

"Madison–"

"No," she said sternly. "You're like a daughter to me, Y/N. I see a lot of myself in you and I care about like I do my own kids."

I pressed my lips together, unsure how to respond. She never spoke how she felt, so this was a rarity.

"Nick, he... he's lost," she continued, smiling at me dryly. "He doesn't wanna go to college apparently. I'm hoping that'll change, but..." She clicked her tongue. "Alicia is already set. It's always been smooth sailing for her. So, that only leaves you. And I know that your mum, she... well, I don't expect her to have saved for you, and I know you've been saving for yourself, but it'll take too long and I don't want you to miss out. So, I'm giving this to you and I want you to enrol now. For this year. It's not too late."

Tears were making their way to my eyes as I looked at her. "Madison."

"Please," she said gently.

Nobody had ever cared this much for me before, nobody except her. I'd always known she considered me family, but there was playing family and there was actually being family. And nobody just handed somebody five grand unless they meant it. And Madison, especially, wouldn't do something like this unless she meant it.

My mum, my dad... they never cared. Not truly. And though Nick and Alicia would both argue that their mother had no emotions, I'd always think the opposite. This woman stood before me was the most sensitive person I knew.

Unable to answer with words, I nodded slowly before pulling her in for a hug so tight that I was certain I couldn't let go. She rubbed my back comfortingly before we both pulled away and I looked down at the envelope once more.

"I'm gonna pay you back," I promised, to which she instantly shook her head.

"No way. It's not a loan, Y/N, it's a gift."

I breathed out slowly, laughing to disguise from my embarrassment at crying with happiness. She may have gifted it to me, but I knew I'd pay her back one day anyway. For everything.

"I'm so so proud of you, sweetie," she said, resting a hand on my shoulder and making me look at her again. "You're gonna do amazing things one day and I can't wait."

More tears rolled down my cheeks and I felt an overwhelming happiness flood through me. I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve this, but I was glad for it.

"Y/N, hon, can you go get Matt and Alicia? Dinner's ready," Madison called to me in the living room.

I glanced back at her from the couch. "Sure thing."

I would have much preferred not to, but I also knew I needed to get over myself about this whole Alicia thing, so I forced myself off the couch and headed upstairs to Alicia's room. Her door was almost closed, slightly ajar as per Madison's rule whenever Matt visited. I was about to enter, but I paused when I heard them talking in quiet voices.

"I just can't wait to leave already," Alicia was saying, which is what earned my attention because she sounded a little fed up. "Get as far away from them as I can."

"Not too far, I hope," Matt joked.

"Not too far, of course," Alicia agreed, before they both sighed in unison, and I cringed, knowing they'd probably just kissed.

I was going to stop lurking and just walk in, but I couldn't help but overhear as she continued. And I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but I had an instinct to just listen.

"I'm just tired," Alicia continued. "Looking after Nick, being mum's second priority, dealing with Travis..."

Travis was Madison's boyfriend, a recent part of the Clarks lives, and a better one, in my opinion, but of course Nick and Alicia didn't see it that way because their father's death was still fresh for them. Travis was a teacher at school, which is how Madison and him had met, so Alicia probably saw him more often than she wanted to.

"It's just easier to look after myself," Alicia finished. "I basically have been anyway."

"And what about Y/N?" Matt asked curiously.

"What about her?"

"You wanna get away from her too?"

I held my breath as I awaited her response, the second of silence killing me.

"Of course not," she said matter-of-factly, which had me relieved for a moment before she unfortunately continued, "but she won't leave here. And I can't hang around."

Definitely not expecting that, I frowned and stepped back instinctively, but I must have made a sound as Alicia called out loudly.

"Is someone there?"

Flushing with embarrassment, I cleared my throat and pushed the door open, poking my head in, but I couldn't for the life of me meet any of their eyes. "Madison said dinner's ready."

"Oh, okay," she answered awkwardly.

"Matt, you can stay too," I added uncomfortably.

"Actually, I should head back," he answered, "but thanks for the offer."

I nodded and turned to leave, heading back downstairs and forcing myself to ignore everything I'd just heard. It wasn't my business anyway, and I shouldn't have been eavesdropping. It had just taken me by surprise is all, as Alicia had never expressed thoughts of leaving as strongly as she had just then.

When the Clarks and I sat together eating dinner, I felt Alicia's eyes burning holes into the side of my head, but I refused to meet her gaze. I still felt odd and I couldn't stop thinking about her words. Were her family that bad that she wanted to leave so quickly after graduation? Was I?

After dinner, once I'd helped Madison clear the table, I was on my way to get my jacket when Alicia suddenly pulled me to the side, out of sight from everyone else as we were alone in the living room.

"You heard me talking to Matt, didn't you?" she blurted out in a hushed voice.

I blinked, looking down at her hand which was still gripping my arm. She let go once she realised, and I played dumb.

"No, I didn't."

She narrowed her eyes, studying me carefully as if debating whether to push it. Finally, she rolled her eyes and turned to leave, but I couldn't seem to just let it go.

"Are you really just going to leave?" I asked calmly. "Go as far away as you can?"

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You don't get it."

"Then explain," I said with confusion. "Because it sounds like you're counting down the days until you get your diploma, then you're off."

She met my eyes, giving me a look. "It's not like that. But yes, I've been applying to colleges far from here."

I frowned, a little hurt that she'd never told me any of this before and that I'd found out the way I had. "Well, at least I know you'll get in, right? You're not dumb."

Her expression softened and she tried to touch me, but I backed up. "Y/N."

"You don't know how grateful you are, do you?" I said, a little sterner than I intended, but it was the only way I knew. "Your family. They're a little dysfunctional, sure, but they care. And the way you talk about them, like they're such a burden–"

"They are!" she snapped in a low voice, surprising me. "Nick is back on drugs, and who has to be there when he's coming back down? Me! I babysit him like he's the younger brother. And mum, she's always at his beck and call, but me? She couldn't care less!"

I scrunched my eyebrows together in shock. "Alicia, that's not true–"

"It is!" she exclaimed angrily. "You wouldn't know."

Her anger was contagious and I scoffed, shaking my head. "So, what? They're all a burden because they need you? Makes me wonder what you think of me."

"That's not fair," she said in a low voice.

"Isn't it? I won't leave here. Isn't that what you said?"

She opened her mouth, eyebrows raising with disbelief. "That's because it's true! You won't! This is your chance to get out, make a life away from this one, but you stay!"

"I won't, or I can't?" I answered, glaring at her with teary eyes. "In case you've forgotten, I have fucking nobody! No money, no family, nothing! I don't even have a freakin' car! Where the hell would I go? I'm only at fucking college because your mum felt sorry for me and gave me the money! So, of course I won't just leave. I can't!"

She'd never hinted she felt this way before and it was horrifying. Had I overstayed my welcome? I was technically an adult now, but I never thought... maybe I had pushed my luck. Either way, there was a way to tell me and this wasn't it. And now I felt humiliated, burning with anger and hurt and it was so much worse because it was coming from Alicia.

"Wait...," she murmured, eyes roaming my face as her expression softened and the reality of the conversation hit her. "Just wait. Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I shouldn't have said that."

She attempted to touch my face, but I moved away and wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"It doesn't matter," I said, tired. "Forget it. Just– forget it."

"No, just– Y/N, wait, please, I'm sorry–"

Walking past her, I grabbed my jacket and didn't bother to stay any longer or hear her out. Clearly, I wasn't wanted.

The next day, I was sat on campus eating lunch after class. It was supposed to be a well-needed moment of quiet in one of my favourite places – next to a park where some ducks always came out near the water and made for a lovely sight. I wasn't able to focus in class after everything that went on last night, so I thought a lunch alone in my favourite spot would help, but it was just my luck that I couldn't even have that.

A familiar figure began to approach the picnic bench I was sat on, not even giving me chance to open my sandwich.

"Hey," Alicia said when she stopped before the bench, looking nervous.

I sighed, dropping my sandwich. "How did you find me?"

She waved her phone in the air. "Find My iPhone."

I was seriously regretted enabling that function, but we'd all agreed to do so after we couldn't find Nick that one time when he went on a night out. Now, I just wanted to be alone.

"I want to apologise and I couldn't wait any longer," she said softly.

"Forgive and forget," I said dismissively, picking up my sandwich again. "You can go now."

"No," she said stubbornly, before taking a seat opposite me. "Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry. I never meant to say what I did. I didn't mean it like that at all. You were right. I have more than most and I took advantage of it. I guess I just wanted to start fresh."

"Yeah, without everyone," I reminded her, looking between her eyes. "Without your family. Without–"

"Not without you," she stated with an apologetic look. "Never without you."

I wanted to believe her – she'd never lied to me before, but after everything she'd said... there had to be some truth to it.

"I applied for colleges here too," she shared, resting her hand on mine on the table. "I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing, but I'm not trying to run away. You're all my family. I love you."

I swallowed hard, looking down. "Maybe I don't get it. Not fully. But I just thought–" I paused, not even sure what I was trying to say. "I don't know."

She squeezed my hand gently, earning my attention. "The best thing that could have happened to me is us taking you in as one of our own. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel any less."

I sighed, hating how much I cared about what she thought of me. About what all of the Clarks did. But they were all I had.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I never meant to upset you and I've been kicking myself since I said what I did."

I nodded slightly, resting my other hand on hers in reciprocation. "It's okay. I get it. Your situation is tough and you had to grow up a lot faster because of Nick... I've tried to help ease that burden for you, but Nick can get out of control sometimes, I know."

"I appreciate it," she said, but I wasn't looking for acknowledgement, I just wanted her to be okay.

"I'm sorry, too," I told her. "The whole making your problems seem smaller thing wasn't cool."

"Thank you," she said with a nod of acceptance.

"Wherever you choose to go to college, I'll still be here for you," I promised her. "Whether it's Timbuktu or around the corner."

She cracked a small smile, bringing a light to her eyes that I'd missed. "I know."

"Ideally not Timbuktu though," I added lightheartedly. "Flights would be a little pricey."

A quiet chuckle flew from her lips as she nodded. "Noted." Her smile reminded as she met my eyes hopefully. "I have a free period. Wanna eat lunch together?"

I returned her smile. "I'd like that."

19 years old...

Nick's MIA. Is he with you?

I read Madison's message with furrowed brows, both confused and worried for my best friend. It was the third time this month he'd gone rogue, worrying his whole family.

Attempting to call Madison, I cursed when she wouldn't pick up then dropped her a text to let her know he wasn't but that I'd update her if anything changed. Then, when I finally finished my morning classes, I gave Alicia a call as I waited for the bus.

"Y/N, what's up?" she answered straight away.

"Your mum just said Nick's missing again," I said, but before I could finish, Alicia was already speaking.

"He's been found," she assured me, though she sounded understandably pissed off. "They brought him into the hospital this morning. Idiot got hit by a car. No surprises what he was up to."

I chewed on my lower lip, worried. "Is he okay?"

I could imagine her eye roll as she said, "Considering he didn't get arrested, I'd say he was great." She paused, then her frustration left her tone as she said, "I've got class, Y/N. Can we talk later?"

"Of course," I said, feeling bad for her because this sort of thing had been happening a lot more than usual lately. "Sorry. See you later, Leashy."

"See you later."

I wanted to check on Nick, but he was in hospital overnight and when Madison offered to let me join her, Alicia and Travis to visit him in the morning, I couldn't afford to miss class. I almost did, but Madison assured me it was okay and he'd be fine, so I promised I'd visit later that afternoon. Only, when I tried to arrange it with Madison, they revealed he'd escaped the hospital without telling anyone.

Naturally, I was worried out of my mind, but Madison and Travis promised they were searching for him, so I shouldn't worry about it. Easier said than done, of course.

That same day, after class, I tried ringing Madison to see if there were any updates about Nick's whereabouts, but there was no answer.

By the time I'd stopped by to grab some lunch and headed home, I went straight for the Clarks house to check in. I was surprised to find Madison at home.

"Y/N, you're here," Madison said when she answered the door, immediately pulling me in for a hug. "I was just about to call."

Confused, I returned the hug. "Er, yeah... I just wanted to see if there was any news with Nick."

At this, she pulled me inside the house and that's when I saw the idiot himself stood in the living room. Relieved at the sight of him, but also concerned because of some bruises covering his face, I pulled him in for a hug.

"You fucking idiot," I muttered.

He hugged me tight, about to say something, but Madison spoke up instead.

"Alicia's calling... Y/N, can you just– can you watch him for a sec?"

"Sure," I said, still confused with why she was panicked. "Everything okay?"

It wasn't hard to miss the deadly stare she shot her son, who looked like he had a million and one things to say.

"What's wrong?" I asked him when I saw his ghastly expression and inability to stand still.

He simply shook his head, saying nothing, but he looked anxious. Madison left two of us alone, heading into the kitchen.

"You can be such an idiot sometimes," I scolded him once she was gone. "Using again? Getting hit by a car? Are you insane, Nick?"

He wasn't listening to a word I was saying as he took a seat on the couch, knees bouncing up and down with impatience. I rolled my eyes, knowing how this would go since he hadn't listened to me for a long time now.

"...no, Alicia, don't touch him!" Madison was saying, on a phone call but loud enough for us to hear.

She returned not long later, looking stressed out and as anxious as Nick did. Was I missing something?

"What's up? Is everything okay?" I asked her supportively. "Is Alicia okay?"

She brushed her hair from her eyes. "She's with Matt. He's sick."

"Yeah, a load of people were off sick today in class," I realised, before shrugging. "Maybe there's a bug going around."

Madison wasn't satisfied with that answer though, as she went to grab her car keys. "I'm gonna pick her up. I don't want her getting sick, too."

"I can get her her if you want," I offered, but she shook her head and glanced at Nick, who was sweating profusely.

"No. You stay with Nick. I won't be long."

Not really getting much of a choice, I nodded and watched her leave. Nick didn't reveal much, even when Madison left, but he seemed troubled by something and no amount of coaxing from me would help. He was suffering from withdrawals, just over twenty-four hours passing since he'd taken anything, and the symptoms were making themselves known.

After what felt like forever, Madison returned with an irritated Alicia in tow. Though, as soon as she saw me with Nick, her irritation disappeared.

"He's not doing too well, Madison," I told the blonde, kneeling beside a shivering Nick.

"I'm gonna get him his prescription," Madison assured me, before looking between Alicia and I. "You girls look after him. Travis will be here soon with Liza and Chris, so keep an eye out."

Alicia and I exchanged confused looks. Why was Travis bringing his ex-wife and son back here? And what was Madison so worried about, apart from Nick?

"You're gonna make me stay here and look after this idiot when Matt needs my help?" Alicia asked her mum.

"Alicia, don't argue this," Madison said knowingly. "Stay put, okay?"

She didn't wait for a response as the door slammed behind her when she left. I sighed, using a damp cloth to cool Nick's forehead. Meanwhile, Alicia threw her backpack on the floor before looking to me.

"Can you watch him? I wanna check on Matt," she said.

"I–"

"No," Nick groaned, pushing me away as he struggled to sit up. "Mum said you have to stay."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "You've got Y/N."

"Is he okay?" I asked her, noticing her worry behind her mean girl facade.

"He's sick," she said with a frown. "Didn't show for our date in the park and that's why I went to check on him. His parents are out of town, Y/N, I can't just leave him."

The last thing I wanted to do was go against Madison's request, but I truly didn't see the harm in her checking on him.

"Okay, fine," I gave in with a nod. "Go. I'll watch Nick."

She smiled appreciatively before making her way to the door, but Nick didn't seem to like this as he forced himself to stand up.

"Alicia, no!" he shouted after her, making her roll her eyes. "You can't, Alicia, it's not safe!"

"Nick, sit down!" I shouted at him when he leaned against the couch for support. "Nick– Nick!"

I screamed his name when he fell to floor suddenly, convulsing, and Alicia was by my side in an instant, helping me help him.

Alicia and I sat on the two armchairs, exhausted and nervous as we watched Nick laying on the couch, sleeping. Madison still wasn't back with his meds and, considering we'd almost watched him choke to death on his own vomit, we were pretty impatient for her return.

"You okay?" I checked in with Alicia.

Her green eyes flickered from Nick to me. "No. You?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "You thinking about Matt?"

She nodded weakly.

"I'm sure he's fine," I tried to put her at ease. "Have you tried calling him? Maybe his parents are back."

"He won't answer," she said monotonously.

I frowned, unsure what else to recommend. Thankfully, keys were rattling at the front door and in walked Madison with Nick's meds.

"I've got it," Alicia said, grabbing the bag and attempting to wake up Nick.

"Y/N, have you checked on your mum?" Madison asked randomly.

I quirked a brow. "Er, no. Am I supposed to?"

She glanced out the window uneasily. "There's a lot going on out there. Just do it, hon."

Already knowing I'd regret it, I gave my mum a ring there and then, to which she picked up after a few rings.

"Mum? It's Y/N," I said, in case she happened to be too drunk to read her caller ID. And woo-hoo, guess who was right?

"Y/N?" she asked with confusion, before exclaiming with realisation, "Y/N! What do you want?"

Unsurprised at this point, I said, "Where are you? Are you coming home?"

She laughed, though it was hard to make out because of the sound a man talking nearby, giving me the creeps. "I'll be on my way soon. Don't wait up."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. See you later."

Once I hung up, I realised Madison was still waiting to hear an update.

"She's drunk," I told her the usual. "But she's gonna be back soon."

She nodded distractedly, before saying, "When she comes home, you need to check if she's sick. And if she is, you shouldn't touch her."

"Mum," Alicia said disapprovingly, before I could even think to speak. "Not now."

I shook my head with confusion, looking back to Madison. "What?"

"This sickness, it's spreading," she said with concern. "I don't want you getting sick, too. Just promise me you'll check, okay?"

Alicia scoffed, unimpressed at her mum's ignorance.

"I promise," I told her. "Besides, she'd have to actually make it home first..."

[too-antigonish]

Morse: Fathers & Father Figures

What we learn about Morse's father in the Dexter's novels can seem a bit surprising in light of the way their relationship is depicted in Home.

According to a piece written by fellow author Mike Ripley, however, Dexter was, "...just about the only crime writer I know who has never bitched or complained about television adaptations of his work. He once told me that his philosophy was: “Books is books, telly is telly.” Only he probably put it more grammatically than that."

In Death Is Now My Neighbor, Dexter finally revealed Morse's first name: Endeavour. The chapter in question begins (tellingly?) with the epithet:

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. (Philip Larkin, This Be the Verse') 

A bit into the chapter we arrive at a moment where Morse is strolling around Bath with his new love interest, Janet, and the following conversation takes place:

It was late morning, as they were walking arm-in-arm down to the city centre, following the signs to the Roman Baths, that she asked him the question:  'Shall I just keep calling you "Morse"?'. 'I'd prefer that, yes.'  'Whatever you say, sir!'  "You sound like Lewis. He always calls me "sir".' 'What do you call him?'  '"Lewis".' 'Does he know your Christian name?'  'No.'  'How come you got lumbered with it?'  Morse was silent awhile before answering:'They both had to leave school early, my parents - and they never had much of a chance in life themselves. That's partly the reason, I suppose. They used to keep on to me all the time about trying as hard as I could in life. They wanted me to do that. They expected me to do that. Sort of emotional blackmail, really - when you come to think of it.'  'Did you love them?" Morse nodded. 'Especially my father. He drank and gambled far too much ... but I loved him, yes. He knew nothing really - except two things: he could recite all of Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome by heart; and he'd read everything ever written about his greatest hero in life, Captain Cook - "Captain James Cook, 1728 to 1779", as he always used to call him.'  'And your mother?'  'She was a gentle soul. She was a Quaker.' 'It all adds up then, really?' said Janet slowly.  'I suppose so,' said Morse.

This conversation eventually leads to Janet convincing Morse to send Lewis a postcard in which he reveals his first name. The card reads:

"For Philistines like you, Lewis, as well as for classical scholars like me, this city with its baths, and temples must rank as one of the finest in Europe. You ought to bring the missus here some time. Did I ever get the chance to thank you for the few (!) contributions you made to our last case together? If I didn’t, let me thank you now – let me thank you for everything, my dear old friend. Yours aye, Endeavour (Morse)"

Spoiler: It makes Lewis cry.

One last note about Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome. The most famous poem from the collection is Horatius. It is quoted twice in Exeunt—first by a don, second and most memorably for me, by Thursday.

"Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate: "To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his Gods."'

[bipedalembarrassment]

This entire Mays mum forcing inspections of the Turners etc plotline is so fucking stupid and annoying

A) We've been through it before, its boring twice, get a new plotline. I know period dramas love to put the Good and Perfect (TM) family through various trials of victimhood (see The Bates in Downton Abbey lol) but at least keep it interesting and don't recycle plotlines over and over (see The Bates in Downton Abbey)

B) It doesn't even make sense like sorry historically even white children were adopted out and handed around to whoever would take them with barely a check in from any governing body (quite famously the WW2 evacuations which saw children STILL displaced as late as 1948).

Brittain and other Western countries are infamous for their horrendous treatment and handling of BIPOC children, including rampant child theft through "adoption" and white supremacist assimilation programs (Eg. Canadian residential schools, Australian stolen generation) where western churches & organisations (most often the Catholic ones) had SO MUCH agency and power over these children that they could literally kill, abuse, torture and mistreat THOUSANDS of them without an eye being batted. This included also essentially being able to SELL and give them away to white families, who often exploited and abused them because assimilation with a white family was seen as a bettering of their situation for them. MANY of these issues and their legacies are still impacting BIPOC folks in these countries to this day.

My point being in this overwhelming historical context of BIPOC children being mistreated horribly by western entities I'm supposed to suspend disbelief enough so as to imagine that a single* Chinese woman who was (or is, its unspecified) a heroin user would have this much agency over an adoption/fostering arrangement of her child and that all these white child welfare workers would side with her over a white, upper middle class nuclear family of a Dr (extremely respected profession in those days, even more so than today) and his nurse/ex nun wife who both have close ties to local religious organisations.

Like sorry its just completely and utterly ahistorical . Even if the storyline weren't boring and over done it's just annoying to watch as someone whose always appreciated CTMs historical accuracy, particularly regarding bigotry and inequalities of the time.

* Its also made even worse to me by the fact that as far as I'm aware (haven't watched the show for some time and only just picked back up on S13) Mays mother is single. Which like, the show has spent thirteen seasons at this point repeatedly and accurately showing us how little agency single mothers of the time had. Including how callous and violent child "protection" and adoption systems were (& still are in many places) at the time towards them.

Like sorry you're showing me single white women having their babies forcibly taken from them by governing agencies with no recourse (& often punitive consequences) if they attempt to even contact them, let alone get them back, purely because they are unmarried , in one episode and in the next episode you're trying to convince me that these same systems and agencies give a single shred of a fuck about how Mays unmarried, heroin using, mother feels about her life with the respected white upper middle class family that adopted her.

Also I'm confused about the entire "adoption" process of May. I had thought that she couldn't be in "foster" long term and that all the original fuss with her foot and that had meant she'd finally been officially adopted by the Turners but it seems not?

Which adds just another layer of disbelief for me because the likelihood that the adoption wouldn't be completed by now is so slim and like even if it were still a fostering situation in that era you would fully expect that Mays mother would have been forced or coerced into signing a document she likely couldn't even read (if they'd even bothered with the facade of legal consent), May would have been taken by the religious order and her mother would have never seen or been allowed to hear about her again.

Idk if its a later seasons thing or if I just didn't notice it my first watch of the show but I'm definitely noticing a running theme in the show of like "bad" or "unkind" characters often being people who in reality would be extremely disenfranchised. Like obvs Mays mother is a glaring example but I've mostly noticed this regarding class, like the lower class women/men are often the antagonists.

I was rewatching an earlier season the other day too and there was literally a storyline where an upper middle class woman left the clinic before her appointment because some lower class scum woman bullied her and then she died of eclampsia later on.

Ridiculous.

Anyway sorry to the CTM fandom, thats my angry "A period drama is being ahistorical" rant for the day.

[annab-nana]

Exhausted parents kiss, after the reader and character of your choosing are tired after a long day of Christmas with their hectic children lol

i'm gonna do this one with ron weasley because i can't get that boy out of my head

warnings: not proofread, pregnant!reader

❀ masterlist ❀

"are you sure you want to have another?" ron asked after he walked into the bedroom, leaned against the shut door, and let out a tiresome sigh.

you, standing by the bed where you were pulling back the blankets to get in, looked down at the baby bump you were sporting before looking back up at ron. "i think it may be a tad bit too late for you to be asking me that," you tell him, earning a grin from the man you loved most. "and anyways, how else are we supposed to live up to the weasley name if not by having hundreds of kids?"

"we aren't even close to mum yet," ron spoke as he strode over to you slowly, his hands coming up to the swell of your stomach. "this one here is number three. we're on our percy. we still have four more to go if we even want to truly compete with the weasley name."

"oh, i don't know about that," you told him with a chuckle while sitting down on your side of the bed. "and it wasn't really our kids that made today so exhausting. it was your brother."

"which one?" ron questioned teasingly, rounding the bed to lie down beside you. you both knew very clearly which of his brothers wound your kids up which tired you two out. "yeah, freddie and george make quite the pair."

you rolled your eyes and reached over to turn out the lamp near you, casting darkness over the room. scooting closer to ron, you cuddled into his side where he had his arm stretched out for you. "i didn't realize when we named him after fred that he would turn out exactly like him. i sympathize with your mother more and more every day and we only have two kids, three in a few months. i have no idea how she did it."

ron chuckled, squeezing his arm tighter around you for a second. "and he's only three and a half years old. we aren't even in the thick of it yet. you remember how the twins were in school. wait until freddie's that age. then, you will really see how much he's like fred."

"no," you whined, burying your face in ron's shirt, "i don't want to think about my first baby going to school already."

his chest vibrated with light laughter before a yawn took him over. "come here," he spoke through the yawn, causing you to lift your head up. you knew exactly what he was seeking as you moved closer to him, more specifically to his lips. tiredly, you both leaned in and pressed your lips to one another's. after the kiss, only seconds passed before you both fell asleep, the effects of the long christmas day finally taking over you and ron.

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[pollymorgan]

Oh my God, how embarrassing... I did it and translated my German fanfiction into English... into bad English! Don't be too harsh on me, but rather make suggestions for improvement: So now a little phone sex with Coach Negan. 🙈😌

Warnings: arrogant Negan, frustrated woman, explicit phone sex

Today is one of those days again, where nothing seems to work as it should. Just like so often lately. Why couldn't I transfer those damn photos to the laptop? I've never been very tech-savvy, but the modern world practically forced me to. I'm actually a cookbook author and used to be quite successful with it. Some of my books were bestsellers and I even had my own cooking segment on a nationally broadcasted morning show. But then I was suddenly replaced by a younger, "cooler" colleague and ever since then, I've been struggling to keep afloat with social media, more or less. If only the technology would cooperate..

Even in my personal life, I have been replaced. Four months ago, my husband left us. By us, I mean my three children and me. After 19 years of marriage. But love goes where it goes, right? Nothing can be done against that. At least, those were his words when he got into his Porsche with a blonde woman who could be his daughter and disappeared.

Since then, he has managed to do something with his children exactly twice. But in exchange, he has already disappointed them seven times by canceling the meetings at short notice. Yes, I'm keeping count. At least for now.

My oldest daughter Penny is 15 years old and fully immersed in puberty, and it seems that this situation is hardest on her. She and her father were always a unit, his little princess. But there's no trace of that at the moment. Most of the time, he doesn't even bother to answer his damn phone when she tries to reach him.

I see her suffering. She's lost interest in school, and her circle of friends is dwindling visibly. I would love to help her, but how? At the moment, I just can't seem to reach her. Our communication mostly consists of doors slamming.

But back to my current problem. These damn pictures! The article is supposed to go online today. I cooked an Indian dish and had to drive halfway across town to get these damn spices. Thursdays always bring an international post, and now, of all times, nothing is working again. My laptop doesn't recognize the memory card, and the camera won't connect either. I keep plugging and unplugging the cable, hoping the error will magically resolve. Which of course it doesn't. Suddenly, I glance at the small display in the lower right-hand corner. Damn it! So late. I won't be picking up the kids on time again, the second time this cursed week. Annoyed, I close the screen. Grabbing my purse, I walk quickly to the garage. Where's the damn car key? Nervously, I rummage through my chaotic bag, spilling half of its contents on the floor. Finally finding it, I get into the car and speed out of the driveway.

The first stop is the kindergarten to pick up my youngest. She's a real bundle of nerves, but so sweet that you can forgive her anything. Of course, she throws a tantrum right at pickup. It's a real struggle to get her into the car. Like a madwoman, I drive on to the elementary school to pick up my 9-year-old son. He is the calm one in our family and thankfully waits with his best friend relaxed in front of the school. At least one who's not mad at me. Lucky me. And off we go, heading to my daughter's high school. From a distance, I can see her and immediately know that - once again - something is wrong. She stands all alone and pretty annoyed on the street, looking out for me. When I park the car right in front of her feet, she angrily drops onto the passenger seat.

"Penny, I can explain, you know what a loser I am when it comes to technology..." I try to justify myself.

My eldest rolls her eyes in annoyance. "Mum, this time, for once, it's not your fault..." I see tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and automatically, I feel a lump in my throat.

"Mister Smith... he..."

She doesn't need to continue speaking; just hearing that name fills me with such anger again. Right from the start, there have been issues with her physical education teacher, Negan Smith.

I've only seen him twice so far, at parent-teacher conferences, but Penny's stories are enough for me to know that he's an absolute failure as a teacher. He has his favorites whom he praises to the skies, while the less athletic students suffer under his authoritarian ways. My daughter already feels uncomfortable in her own skin, and that jerk doesn't even realize the impact his remarks have on the young girls.

A few years ago, his wife passed away from cancer. A terrible tragedy, but apparently that did not make him more empathetic; quite the opposite.

I'm currently looking in the rearview mirror to avoid hitting anyone in the chaos outside the school. That's all I need on this crappy day. Then I catch sight of none other than Penny's physical education teacher.

"Isn't that him?" I ask excitedly.

My daughter buries her face even further into the backpack in her lap. "Yes, Mom, it's okay, please just drive..."

The anger that had been building up recently had just found a good release.

With the words "Nothing is good...", I yank open my driver's door and head purposefully towards my daughter's physical education teacher, who is just stowing his bag in his car.

"Who do you think you are?" I stand behind him with arms crossed, eagerly awaiting his reaction.

Confused, he turns around to face me and suddenly a big grin spreads across his face. "Negan Smith, nice to meet you, and who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

What a cocky jerk!

"The mother of a rather offended young girl, because of you..."

Can't he just drop his arrogant smile for once? Quite unimpressed, he closes the door of his car.

"Penny has so much potential and she's wasting it on the damn bench..."

Such an idiot, he clearly knows who I am.

"Maybe you should listen to the young students as well, instead of just spouting off random remarks at them?"

Amused, he shakes his head. "I did... her excuse for skipping today's P.E. class was menstrual cramps..."

"And in your opinion that's not a valid reason or what? How dare you even pass judgment on that? Your students' bodies are going through changes and such discomforts should be taken seriously..." I respond a bit too loudly, causing some students to turn towards us.

Resigned, he raises his hands. "Of course, but not every damn other week. Maybe you should give your daughter some biology lessons again and explain to her that her P.E. teacher isn't completely from another planet."

Oh God, what does this man think he is..

"And you should work on your teaching skills... Otherwise, maybe I should consider contacting the school board!"

„Oh wow, you're actually a bigger drama queen than your dear daughter!".

Did he really just say that? Did he just seriously insult me? My daughter's teacher. I look at him in disbelief, but he just grins.

"And now she's quiet... I really have to go now, but I'm pretty sure we'll meet again soon." With these words, he jumps into his car and drives off.

Completely perplexed, I walk back to my car and am greeted by my daughter with the words "That was soooo embarrassing.."

7 hours later

Finally peace! Why does it always have to be such a struggle to get the kids to bed? Isn't it unfair that you are a thousand times more tired than the dear little ones? What a crappy day! I'm glad to be freshly showered in my bed and finally have some time off. Just me and my phone, no one else. No more whining, arguing, and crying. As much as I sometimes curse technology, I also love being able to connect with people over the internet. It's fun to respond to comments, the direct exchange with like-minded people is the only positive thing about social media. As I scroll through Instagram, I suddenly see comments coming in at a rapid pace. Confused, I open them. From "Do you always look so good when you cook?" to "Can you cook that for me sometime?" to heart emojis, and they all come from the same account. As I read the name, a shock runs through me. Can this be for real? "Coach Negan" is he not only a tactless asshole, but also a real psychopath? Excited, I click on his account, but apart from a profile picture where he is clearly recognizable, there is no further information.

I quickly open the messaging function and type "What is this???" into my phone. It only takes a few seconds and I receive a response.

"I am a fan 😉"

For a while, I stare at the screen, unable to believe what is happening here.

Suddenly, he sends me a picture. I open it and see a photo of me from my highlights, showing me from my post "Valentine's Day." I had cooked a three-course meal and written a pretty cheesy text back then. It's one of my most liked posts.

"Red lipstick suits you. Matches your fiery nature.." he writes.

What does he want to achieve? Did the confrontation before school hurt him so much that he is trying to provoke me? But to be honest, it seems like he's the one giving me a warning. Well, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the best defense is a good offense.

"Oh, do you think so? Most men say I look better without wearing anything...I mean, without lipstick, of course.. 😉".

"Are you already in bed?" he asks next. What a bizarre situation? Why does my daughter's teacher want to know where I am? The same teacher who called me a ‚drama queen‘ just a few hours ago.

I keep trying to type a suitable response on my phone and then delete it again. Finally, I write briefly, "Yes, and you?"

"Yes, and I'm studying your profile. Do you realize how crazy you can drive a man with these pictures? Why am I even asking, of course you do. 😉"

The feeling of small electric shocks runs through my body. The whole thing feels strangely forbidden. Maybe what I'm doing here is damn wrong, but right now, the consequences seem pretty irrelevant to me.

"How mean, you can look at my pictures, but you don't have any online yourself."

"That's true, but how about you hear my voice instead?" Attached to this message was his phone number. Okay, this is all moving pretty quickly, in a pretty strange direction. I'm so excited that I can feel my heart pounding wildly in my chest. But what do I have to lose? I haven't felt like this in the last 20 years. Okay, it's a damn bizarre situation, but I'm an adult and single. So I can finally talk to whoever I want. Even with the biggest jerk I've come across lately.

Feeling totally tense, I dial the number and as it rings, it gets even worse. I take a few deep breaths, and suddenly the deep voice on the other end answers with a "What took you so long to decide?" and I can practically feel his grin.

"Well, I had to think for a moment about what would be so sensible about calling my daughter's narcissistic gym teacher in the middle of the night," I say calmly.

"And what would be sensible about that?" he asks with interest.

"I haven't really found a solid reason yet, but maybe you can tell me?"

He thinks for a moment, and I imagine him lying in his bed. A slight tingling sensation spreads in my stomach, which is intensified by his response.

"Well, I can make sure you feel a little better... forget all the everyday crap that's weighing on your pretty shoulders right now."

I briefly close my eyes to focus more on his voice, which really manages to relax me a bit with just that simple sentence.

"And how do you plan to do that?" I ask softly.

"When was the last time you were really well fucked?" As soon as he says it, my lower abdomen tightens, and I automatically press my legs together.

After I take a moment to collect myself, I honestly respond, "That was much too long ago..."

"Oh, poor girl," Negan provocatively replies, but instead of getting upset about it, it triggers completely different feelings in me. "Tell me about what you imagine when you stroke your lonely pussy at night."

I have to swallow briefly to get rid of the extremely dry feeling in my throat.

"I can tell you what I think about when I do it in a moment..." I say softly but firmly.

And his tone changes too. His breathing becomes heavier. "Then tell me, come on," he commands.

"I imagine it's your fingers running over my body and finally sliding my panties to the side and penetrating deep into me..." My cheeks feel like they're glowing. I've never talked like this with anyone before, and now I just did it with a man who is actually a stranger to me.

"Come on, sweetheart... touch yourself for me and tell me if you're wet," he interrupts.

Without thinking, I click on the speaker icon on my display and place the phone next to me on the pillow, then I slide my right hand under my nightgown into my panties and I'm surprised at how aroused I already am, how swollen my clit is, and how sensitive my whole intimate area has become. I sigh softly.

"Fuck, the sweet little sounds you're making... they make my damn cock twitch in my hand with joy..."

Just the thought that he's so aroused by me on the other end sends waves of pleasure through my body.

"I'm already so wet because of you, Negan..." I admit breathlessly.

"You dirty, pretty lady, if I were with you right now, I would slowly penetrate deep into you... you need that now, don't you?"

"Yes!" I can only whisper.

"Okay, now do everything exactly as I tell you, understood?" he demands.

"Yes, please tell me what to do.." I focus solely on his voice, completely tuning out everything else.

"Take off your panties. Use your index and middle fingers to gently stroke over your mons pubis and then slowly over your outer labia, but not more, just right there.."

Immediately, I follow his instructions. The air feels cool on my bare lower abdomen. I feel strangely exposed, even though I am alone in my bedroom, but it's not uncomfortable, quite the opposite. I begin to caress myself gently.

"How does that feel?" his voice breaks the silence again.

"Good, but I want more.." I plead.

"I already knew that.. Bend your legs and spread them wide.. as far as you can.." He gives me a brief moment to comply with his instructions. "Now push your pelvis even further forward.. Imagine I'm between your legs and you want to present me with your beautiful pussy, you would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes.." I say and nod vigorously, even though no one can see me.

"Such a good girl.. and now run your index finger through your slit, spread your juices.."

I can't and don't want to hold back my moans now. There is silence for a while at the other end, then I speak heavily.

"Are you also pleasuring your cock for me?" I ask as I continue to touch myself.

"Oh, sweetheart, so your thoughts are currently only about that.." he says snappily. "Yes, I am, and if you keep moaning so sweetly into the phone, it won't be long, so it's time for you to start massaging your clit, but don't be too timid, circle it with two fingers and use some pressure, even if you're very sensitive now, you can take it.."

Oh God, that was exactly what I needed right now. My body felt like in ecstasy and I could feel the orgasm slowly building up.

"Don't come yet," he commanded, and on cue, I immediately removed my fingers from my most sensitive spot.

"Now, bring your knees close to your body!“

"Yes," I replied, completely exhausted. "You're doing it perfectly, how much I would love to see you in this position right now, just the damn thought!" I could clearly hear him softly moaning. This sound made my body twitch with excitement.

"Penetrate yourself with two fingers... nice and slow. Focus entirely on the feeling of stretching your pussy wide... Tell me when you're all the way in!"

"Now," I whispered, already quite spent.

"Then add your ring finger, once you've done that, you can come intensely as a reward, I promise."

Slowly, I press the third finger into me, which initially causes a bittersweet pull, but I'm so wet that it's not a problem.

Without me telling him, Negan knows that I fulfilled his request.

"So perfect, sweetheart! And now, pleasure your clit! Bring yourself to climax and don't hold back any sound, I want to hear every sweet noise from you."

With the first gentle touch, my body twitches like crazy.

"Negan, please come with me," I stammer into the phone.

"Yes, I promise, beautiful," he replies breathlessly.

And these words are enough for me to come as intensely as I haven't in the past years. My thighs tremble uncontrollably and my heart almost jumps out of my chest. My lower abdomen contracts in waves and I can barely breathe. It feels like I am weightless for a few seconds.

"Do you feel good?" he asks after a short pause.

"Perfect.." I reply and can't gather my thoughts yet.

"Okay, then I expect you tomorrow at 3:30 p.m. for a parent-teacher meeting at the school, and, by the way, without panties.. Good night!" After these words, I only hear a beep on the line.