#i go back for a week in 10 days to visit family before moving back in august and life has NEVER been better <3333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[moody-alcoholic]

Break in

John Price x reader. WC: 1.9k. CW: break in, canon typical violence.

_____

You hate the winter, it gets dark too quickly. The temperature drops and you hate the cold. The worst thing about winter though is how much it makes you miss your husband. Everyone at work talks about getting ready to spend time with their families, or family and friends coming to visit them. You don’t even know if you’ll see John over the Christmas period. 

Last year he left on boxing day, the year before that he was gone for over a week until the 2nd of January. He missed Christmas and new years. You thought you would be used to it by now, him being away but it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. At least this time he’s in London, he’s on a base most of the time. He keeps telling you if he’s lucky he’ll be there until way after the new year. 

That means he comes home at the end of each day, you get to spend time with him and do things you’ve not been able to do in previous years like go shopping for christmas gifts. It doesn’t matter though, it shouldn’t matter, it’s just one day of the year. You could just do a delayed christmas again, it never feels the same though. 

You hitch your bag over your shoulder as you walk through the gate to your townhouse. It’s way later than you would normally get home but the house is still dark so clearly John isn’t back yet either. You’re carrying shopping bags in each hand putting one down so you can fish in your pocket for the house key. You close the gate behind you and make it up to the front door. 

Your body freezes as you reach out for the lock. Your breathing stops, eyes going wide. Goosebumps rise over your skin. 

The door has been kicked in, you can see the damage on the wood where they’ve used a tool to pry it open. 

The shopping bag you’ve got round your wrist is pulling your hand down. You don’t know what to do, you should call the police. No, you should call John, maybe he broke in, forgot his keys? But then why didn’t he call you. There’s a pretty sophisticated security system John installed when you first bought the place. You would have got a security notification if it was activated. 

You drop the bags on the floor backing up down the steps and reaching into your pocket for your phone. Your hands shake as you walk back down the path until you hit the gate. It takes you two attempts to click John's name before you finally bring the phone up to your ear. He won’t pick up the first time, you let it ring out for a few seconds then call him right back. Then he’ll know it’s important. 

“Hey, love. Give me a second.” He says before there’s silence on the like, it feels like the silence is lasting minutes not seconds. You feel a lump rising in your throat, a breath hitches in your throat. You feel silent tears run down your face as you look into the house windows for movement.

“Sorry love. I know I’m late-”

“John, there's someone in the house.” You say before he can finish his sentence. You don’t have time, your heart picks up in your chest. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, the tone of his voice is darker.

“I came home and the door was kicked in.” This time your words come out with a sob. You feel sick.

“Okay, I'm on my way.” You hear shuffling, the sound of keys. You don’t know what to do, panic rises in you.

“Should I call the police?” You ask. 

“No. I’m coming okay, 10 minutes, I'll be there I promise.” You hear him snap his fingers. “Don’t go in the house okay. Stay outside.” You hear a car door close, then another.

“Okay,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’ll be there soon.” He says then hangs up. You’re still looking in the house for movement, you don’t see anything, the rooms dark. You shiver as a cold breeze moves in, it could snow soon, you don’t want to be outside when it snows. 

…

John turns the normally 15 minute drive into less than ten, even down the congested London roads he breaks several traffic laws to get home. He’ll deal with the fines later, but the last thing he needs is to get pulled over now. 

“What if-” “Don’t even fucking say it.” He snaps at Ghost sitting next to him. His hands grip the steering wheel as he turns down the street towards his house. The place is quiet, it’s almost 9pm. He parks up pulling in so fast he almost hits another car. He can see you, stood on the pavement outside the house, your face red with tears, your arms wrapped around your chest.

They both Jump out of the car and John makes a bee line towards you. His hands come up to cup your face. 

“You’re okay, go wait in the car.” he says brushing your tears away with his thumbs. You nod letting out another sob, he watches as you head over to the car getting in the back.

“Take the top floor, I’ll sweep the ground.” He says to Ghost as he walks through the gate towards the house. John takes the lead removing the sidearm from its holster bringing it into his hands. He toes open the door, the house is dark, there’s no sound, they could be gone already. 

Ghost is silent on his feet moving up the stairs as John continues down the corridor to the kitchen. He brings the weapon up to his eyeline as he adjusts to the darkness. They have an advantage here, they know the layout of the house better than the intruders, hopefully.  

Ghost finds the first guy on the top floor. He’ll be working his way down now. As soon as John is done he will work his way up. The back door was still locked but it could have been locked from the inside without a key. There’s no mess, the place hasn’t been ransacked. They weren't looking for valuables.

The ground floor is clear as John works his way up to the first floor. He heads straight for his home office, maybe they were looking for a different type of valuable. 

John finds the second guy in the spare bedroom. Tying him up and throwing him in a closet with tape over his mouth. No need to shed blood in his home, besides gives him something to do tonight other than paperwork.

He meets up with Ghost outside his office pushing the door open together. The window is wide open with the whole place being ransacked. Ghost walks into the room, looking down out the window. John sighs, they’ve missed one and he has no idea what they could have been looking for. Ghost turns to look at him, putting his pistol away. John already knows what he wants to say.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He sighs putting his own pistol away

…

You’re sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in your hands. John said the place was clear that they didn’t find anyone. Maybe they got spooked when you came home, heard you and ran. That's what you tell yourself to calm your nerves. John walks into the room, he comes over to the sofa and sits down next to you. 

His arm goes round your back and you lean into him. 

“You did great.” He says rubbing your thigh with his other hand. You don’t know what to say. Someone broke into your house, even with all the security measures John put in place someone got past them and invaded your home. 

You’re not even thirsty but you bring the hot tea up to your lips anyway taking a sip letting it burn your throat. 

“What if you weren’t here?” You say, your voice is quiet, your head dipped down as more tears come. The panic and adrenaline gone your mind is filled with what ifs. 

“Don’t worry about that, I have things in place.” His hand comes up to your chin pulling your face up to look at him as you put the tea back in your lap. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

You don’t believe him, it’s going to be a while before you’re going to feel safe in your own home. Even though whoever was here was gone before John got home, they were still here. It could have been so much worse. 

You lean forward putting the cup of tea on the coffee table, it just tastes bitter anyway. His hand rubs your back almost like he’s trying to rub the tension out your muscles. You close your eyes his arms wrap around you as he leans back into the sofa. 

“You’re safe I promise. I would never ever let anything happen to you.” He kisses the top of your head. You let out a long breath, that you believe but it’s not always that simple.

“Will you stay? Please don’t leave, at least not for tonight.” 

“I will, I’m going to be here with you.”  You turn in his arms to look up at him, his deep blue eyes blinking down at you. He leans down pressing his lips to yours. You let yourself sink into the fermilia kiss, his tongue brushing yours as his hands run up and down your body. This is where you feel safe, in his arms, with his touch. 

The knock on the door pulls you out of the kiss, he turns to look. 

“Let me go chat with him then we’ll go to bed okay?” He says his thumb coming to brush the tears escaping your eyes. You nod sitting back up straight.

He’s not gone for long, coming back in and offering you his hand. You take it and he guides you up to bed, his hands don’t leave you, running up and down your body as you make it to the room. He helps you change, pressing kisses round your neck and shoulders, his fingers brushing hair out your eyes and tears when they fall. 

Eventually you crawl into bed together, he rolls over to turn his bedside light off, the only light left on in the room. 

“Leave it on.” You say, you’re not sure why, you just don’t want to be in the dark.

“Okay, whatever you need love.” He says pulling your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You close your eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing in your ears.

“I will always be here. Even when it feels like I’m hundreds of miles away I will always be here for you.” He says as he kisses your cheek. You smile at his words, even if you’re doubtful, it’s what you need to hear. 

“I love you.” You say as he squeezes you tighter.

“I love you too. You’re safe, you always will be, I promise.” His hand moves down to your waist pulling you against him further. “Get some sleep, I'll be here with you. I’m not leaving your side.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise, I’ll protect you, forever. You’re safe, just get some rest.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. You try to stay awake, fighting the sleepiness that comes over you as he runs his hands over you. You can feel his heartbeat, his warm breath in your ear. 

At least you’re not outside in the cold, you’re warm and safe in his arms. Strangers broke into your home but you know it won’t happen again because John won’t let it happen again. 

____ It was supposed to be short but I don't know when to stop.

[balladof-bignothing]

after four hellish years living in america, i am now only 60 days away from moving back to my lovely grans dear home in n. yorkshire :’)))))

[hellodropbear]

homesick.

ingrid engen x mapi leon x child

isabel's first international camp.

this is a long one but i hope you enjoy and i hope it's up to scratch!

pls give me more requests i love them and i am slowly getting through them i promise

heaps of uni at the moment though so might take a while for me to get them out :)

~~~~~~

Isabel had been on a plane before. 

She had sat by the window many times, staring out the window as the buildings below got smaller and smaller, until all she could see was the bright lights in the distance. 

Ingrid and Mapi are professional football players, on a plane nearly every week. They also loved to travel, around Spain, to other countries in Europe. 

Up to Norway to visit Ingrid's home, her family. Everything she knew as she grew up. 

But usually, Mapi was on the plane too, right beside her with her bag full of toys and snacks. 

But today, Mapi was one of those people getting smaller and smaller in the distance and instead it was Ingrid beside her, Ingrid with the snacks and toys that would be more than enough to keep the child occupied for two days, let alone the two hours that they'd spend on the plane before touching down in the Scandinavian country. 

It was weird for the child, flying away from her Mami. It was 10 days away from her and the last time she had spent a night away she had cried so much that Mapi had to come stay at Alexia's as well. 

But that was back when she had only just turned 3. 

She was 4 now and both Mapi and Ingrid were confident that the child would be perfectly happy with the Norwegian, the centre back often complaining that Ingrid was the favourite even though Mapi was the one who gave birth to her, the one who raised her alone for 14 months. 

"You should have come here earlier," Mapi would say "You left me alone with a baby!"

Ingrid would blush profusely, overwhelmed with love and adoration for the two, as well as a huge amount of gratitude that they chose her - that they let her become part of their tiny family. 

In saying that, sending Isabel to Norway with Ingrid was an almost impossible decision for Mapi and she had spent weeks debating the idea in her head, with Ingrid, Alexia, her family. 

Everyone had said the same thing. 

Ingrid loved Isabel and Isabel loved Ingrid. Their family of two was becoming a family of three and all three of them loved each other an exponential amount. 

It wasn't sending Isabel to Norway, it was letting her go on a trip with Ingrid, something she had been begging for since she was old enough to understand why the Norwegian left every couple of months. 

The whole problem was her cousin's wedding, a child free event that Mapi's entire family would be at. 

She never got to see her whole family together, especially now she was dating Ingrid and they shared their already limited time between both Ingrid and Mapi's families. 

But this wedding coincidentally fell on an international break, the perfect opportunity to see everyone for a few days of uninterrupted celebration. 

It was just a shame that no children were invited. 

Mapi understood the reasons why, but it left her with the problem of where her daughter could go. 

She told Ingrid she'd miss the wedding, but the Norwegian had rolled her eyes, immediately telling her girlfriend to stop being stupid, that she'd take Isabel to Norway with her. 

Initially, the Spaniard was completely against the idea.

But eventually she agreed, which is how Ingrid found herself with an overexcited toddler bouncing in her seat as the plane touched down in Norway, gripping onto Ingrid's wrist with an overwhelmingly large grin on her face. 

"Excited, Is?"

Ingrid smiled amusedly at the brunette, placing her hand on her curly hair to try and calm her down. 

It was an impossible task though, because Isabel just nodded enthusiastically, her head almost falling off at the speed at which she moved her head up and down. 

She was still excited as the plane emptied out, as she bounced down the aisle, her hand tight in Ingrid's as they exited the plane and walked on the tarmac, shivering with a smile at the cool autumn air. 

She knew that Norwegian summers were a lot colder than the summer back home, but the autumn was event colder and Isabel didn't realise how much the climate would drop in the four months since they last visited. 

She bounded alongside the tall Norwegian, only slowing down to a walk when Ingrid's hand moved from her hand to her shoulder, physically slowing her down.

"It's an airport, Is, you have to stay with me so you don't get lost, alright?"

She nodded, grinning up at Ingrid who just smiled at her, unable to wipe away her grin when the giddy child was accompanying her to Norway. 

She stared out the window throughout the whole drive from the airport to the hotel, clutching onto Ingrid's hand as they entered the building, full of other people in Norway clothes that matched Ingrid.

"Ingrid." 

She tugged on her shirt, coming to a stop just inside of the doors. 

"What's wrong, Is?"

Her smile had been replaced with an anxious frown that Ingrid had immediately caught onto, waiting for the child to say something. 

"What if... what if I forget my Norwegian?"

Ingrid crouched down, moving a stray hair out of Isabel's forehead. Her hand stayed on her head as she smiled shaking her head. 

"It will be ok. I can translate for you, yeah?"

She waited as Isabel nodded hesitantly before continuing. 

"Besides, your Norwegian is so good I don't think you'd be able to forget it! You're so smart, Is!"

Isabel nodded, biting her lip and Ingrid realised that she was actually quite nervous. Deciding to take a different approach, she stood up and pulled Isabel into a room off the side, sitting down in front of her and motioning for her to sit down as well. 

"What are you doing, Ingrid?"

"We're going to go through some Norwegian."

And that's what they did for the next half hour, they went through Norwegian words and phrases that Isabel already knew, Ingrid tickling her every time she got something right. 

She was successful in cheering the four year old up, her peals of laughter audible from all over the first floor of the hotel. 

With a newfound confidence and a refreshed excitement, Isabel gripped onto Ingrid's hand as they wandered out of the little side room and towards the Norwegian media team who were ready and waiting with their cameras.

Ingrid's hand over her face did little to stop the child from using some of her Norwegian words though, pushing the protective hand away and grinning up at the people behind the cameras.

"Hei! Jeg er Isabel og dette er min Ingrid!"

~~~~~~

She successfully charmed all of the Norwegian staff upon their first meeting, following Ingrid all the way up to their room with a smile on her face. She was happy to see a little bed beside Ingrid's big one, dumping her bag on it before bounding over to the other side of the room and throwing herself on the big bed.

Ingrid smiled, shaking her head with a sigh and pulling the child back, away from the bed and towards the bathroom. 

"It's bath time, Is!"

The child sighed disappointedly, following the Norwegian and sitting on the chair in the bathroom as Ingrid filled up the bathtub with water and soap. 

"Soo..." The child swung her legs beneath the chair, catching Ingrid's attention before continuing. "What do you normally do when I'm not here?"

Ingrid shrugged, smiling. 

"Usually I'll get into bed and miss you and your Mami! It's why I am always calling in the nights when I'm away, because I'm not busy and I'm by myself which makes me miss you more."

Isabel jumped down from the chair, standing beside where Ingrid was sitting on the ledge of the bath. 

"Can we call Mami after bath time?"

Ingrid nodded. 

"She would be sad if we didn't!" 

The bath was full, and Isabel held Ingrid's hand for stability as she climbed in, sinking down into the warm water with a satisfied sigh, leaning into Ingrid's large and soft hand. 

The Norwegian pulled her out of the bath when there was more water on the bathroom floor and Ingrid than there was in the bath, complaining loudly about getting everything wet. 

She giggled as Ingrid dried her off, carrying her in her towel over to where she'd dumped her backpack, pulling out the pyjamas that had been strategically placed right at the top of the bag. 

"Cuddles?"

Ingrid smiled. To be fair, the child looked comfortable in her fuzzy pyjamas, tucked underneath the blankets of Ingrid's bed and surrounded by a barricade of pillows. She took a quick picture, shaking her head. 

"We are going to ring Mami now, and then I'll have my own shower. Cuddles soon, though!" 

It satisfied Isabel, who immediately perked up even more at the though of her mother on the other side of the phone. Mapi picked up after the first ring and Ingrid immediately passed the phone off to the child. 

"Mami!" 

She grinned down the phone, holding it up so only her mouth was visible in the camera. Ingrid laughed, setting up a pillow in front of the child as a stand and resting the phone there so Mapi could actually see the child. 

"Hola mi pequena!" 

Mapi was in bed, the night light on but the rest of her room dark. 

"I miss you so much already, Is!"

Isabel nodded, her face falling only slightly. 

"I miss you too, Mami." She frowned, biting her lip. "I wish you could come with me and Ingrid."

Ingrid left them to it, having her own shower. She could hear Isabel's giggles from the bathroom as she got ready for bed, Mapi's animated voice also audible through the closed door. 

The Norwegian knew how lucky she was to have gained the dynamic duo when she moved to Barcelona. She never expected to find love in the warm city, let alone a child too. It was something that came completely unexpectedly, but something she also couldn't imagine her life without. 

Despite still not living with them, she was there every day. She would put Isabel to bed, read her stories, feed her dinner. She was there when she woke up, making breakfast and feeding the dog. 

She went on every walk to the park, a daily event that had become something of a ritual to the small family, the park meaning so much to them.

She was often mistaken as a mother, a balanced amount of fun, discipline and care. 

It was a soft topic, really. 

Ingrid wished more than anything that Isabel saw her as a mother, that all her thoughts and anxieties would be validated. She didn't want to just be Mapi's girlfriend, she wanted to be a mother too. 

Mapi told her that she was being silly, of course Ingrid was Isabel's mother as well. 

"You don't look after a child this much, you don't watch her grow from a baby to a child without being a mother." Mapi would insist. "You arrived when she was still so little. You and I are all she knows. We are both her mothers."

Ingrid would shake her head because it all seemed so wrong. If she was a mother, she wouldn't be called Ingrid. She would be on those forms from school and would receive the emails about Isabel's progress too. 

But she didn't, because she wasn't a mother. 

She finished up in the bathroom, but remained behind the door for a few more minutes, just listening to Mapi and Isabel interact, hearing how the centre back spoke to her child with so much adoration, so much love. How she listened to everything Isabel said and how Isabel hung onto Mapi's words like they came straight out of god's mouth. 

She heard the laughter, the happiness. She could see the smiles on their faces despite the wall that blocked her vision. 

But when she walked out, Isabel's smile brightened, shuffling over to make space for her. 

"Ingrid just came back, Mami!" 

The Norwegian moved into the camera frame, Mapi's face softening at the sight of her girlfriend. 

"Hola my love."

Ingrid blushed, her hand coming to rest around Isabel as they chatted away, allowing the child to slowly drift off as the two defenders spoke calmly through the phone. She was fighting to stay awake to listen but felt her eyes drooping as she became limp in Ingrid's arms. 

"Night Mami. Night Ingrid."

Ingrid.

~~~~~~

Isabel woke up before Ingrid the next morning, full of childish excitement about the day ahead. It was exciting, being here with Ingrid, and she wanted to make the most of every day. 

But she didn't want to wake Ingrid up from her sleep so instead she got out her drawing book and pencils, pulling Ingrid's phone off charge and calling Mapi simultaneously. 

It was the morning, so why wouldn't she say good morning to her mother like she had done every single morning of her life?

But Mapi was confused when her phone started ringing at 7am, frowning at her girlfriend's name that lit up the phone. 

She had planned on sleeping in until noon, probably, only rolling out of bed when absolutely necessary - to reluctantly go for a run or to the gym. The Spaniard had not expected this early morning wake up call and her stomach dropped, immediately assuming there was something wrong. 

"Ingrid?" It was a facetime call, but Mapi could only see the roof in the frame, the phone not held up properly. 

"Hola Mami!" 

Despite the low volume, the four year old's voice was way too cheerful for this early in the morning. 

"Isabel, what are you doing on Ingrid's phone? Why are you awake so early?"

The child frowned at her mother's chides, biting her lip and shrugging. 

"To say mornin', mami! And I'm being extra quiet with my voice because I don't wanna wake Ingrid up."

Mapi smiled, her heart melting all over again at her own daughter's words. 

"Ok, Is. What are you going to do while you wait for Ingrid to wake up?"

She didn't answer verbally, instead picking up the phone and awkwardly angling it onto the empty page in front of her. 

"'M drawing!" 

Mapi could only chuckle, settling down in her bed and resting her phone on the pillow as she spoke easily to her daughter. 

She laughed even more as Ingrid's alarm went off, the surprise making Isabel jump right out of her skin before she made a quick recovery, scampering off towards the big bed and poking Ingrid on the side. 

"I know, Is, wake up time."

She heard Mapi's laughter, frowning in confusion as her eyes opened slowly. She was in Norway, Mapi was in Spain? It was too early to realise that the laughter was actually just coming through a phone speaker. 

"Morning sleepyhead." 

Ingrid's eyes scanned the room, searching for the source of her girlfriend's voice before they finally landed on the table on the other side of the room, a full set up of paper and pencils, Ingrid's phone laying face up beside. 

"Did you ring Mami, Is?"

She sat up, her feet coming to rest on the floor beside the bed and her hand reaching around Isabel's waist as the child nodded guiltily. 

"I say mornin' to Mami every day!" 

Ingrid sighed, standing up and walking over to the table, chuckling at Mapi's tired face as she lay in bed, her hair a mess and the blanket tucked up to her chin. 

"You don't have to sleep with the air conditioning on when I'm not there, Maria."

The Norwegian smiled lightly. It was a passing comment she made a couple years ago about how she liked sleeping in colder rooms. Ever since, Mapi had insisted on the air conditioning being turned on despite her own preference for the warmth. 

She would say Ingrid would warm her up, that Ingrid is her princesa, she had to have the best conditions. 

But Ingrid wasn't even in the country and the Spaniard was clearly cold in her bed despite her best efforts to cover up with the duvet. 

She shook her head, her face falling momentarily. 

"I like it." 

Ingrid's voice melted at how soft Mapi's voice was, wanting nothing more than to wrap her up in a hug and warm her up herself. 

"We slept in the cold too!" 

Isabel had climbed as high as she could on Ingrid until the Norwegian relented, helping her up and holding her on her side.

"Were you cold, Is?" Ingrid frowned slightly, worried that she had made the room too cold. Changing the thermometer was a habit, she realised. 

"No, because you are so warm, Ingrid!" 

Mapi smiled, her forehead creasing with happiness and perhaps a little bit of jealousy.

She missed the pair of them, of course she did. She didn't realise how empty her world would be without her daughter until she got home from the airport, no child to feed, to put to bed, to entertain.

No reason to watch cartoons on the TV either, but she found herself tempted to switch on the inane shows that Isabel loved so much.

She didn't need to leave the bedroom door open because there was no chance that Isabel would wake up in the night and want to come and sleep in her bed, but she left it open out of habit, only realising that it was pointless once she had already buried herself under the covers of the inanely cold room.

It was never as warm when she wasn't in Ingrid's arms.

There was nobody to talk to when she was curled up in bed, nobody to laugh with or cry with. She wasn't used to going about her day alone, not used to being so unoccupied, so bored. 

The silence was too eerie for Mapi as she sat on the sofa, even Baloo and Bagheera suffering from the absence of the energetic and excitable child and the calming Norwegian.

But they were in Norway, perfectly content away from home and without the comfort of their Mapi, right there whenever they wanted it.

It was devastating, really, realising that Isabel didn't need her anymore. It felt like just yesterday that she had sobbed her heart out at Alexia's, only calming down when her Mami was in sight, content to be warmed by the tattooed arms.

Apparently, Ingrid noticed the way Mapi's eyes glazed over slightly, her features softening as she read the situation with practiced ease.

"It would have been warmer with Mami here though, right?"

Isabel frowned slightly, looking at her mother through the phone screen.

She nodded, looking back up at Ingrid.

"Mami has the warmest arms, Ingrid. She makes me so warm."

Mapi had to hold back her tears, smiling gratefully at Ingrid who could only nod with pride.

"You make me warm too, my lion cub."

~~~~~~

Their phone call with Mapi lasted a while, she stayed on facetime as they both changed and as Ingrid braided Isabel's hair back for the day. She was very proud of herself, wearing a Norway jersey that Ingrid had adjusted to fit her. It was a match worn one and was entirely too big when she first put it on, but she refused to wear anything else to support Ingrid when she was playing with her country.

Ingrid had pulled out her sewing needles, shortening the length and sleeves. It still swallowed the child, but at least she could wear it without the hem getting in the way of her legs when she walked.

She was excited to show off the big 7 on her back, the name that belonged to her Ingrid.

It was her claim to the brunette in front of all the Norwegian players and she was so sure they would be so impressed that she was so close with their coveted midfielder.

She had a grin on her face as they went through the Norwegian phrases she had learnt and as she pestered Ingrid about the different players that she would be meeting today. She knew Caro, of course, but that was all. She had seen the others on TV, from a distance when she came to watch with Mapi.

But not once had she met any of them, always slightly anxious around new people and entirely unconfident in her Norwegian speaking and comprehending abilities. She never believed Mapi or Ingrid when they told her it would be ok, that Ingrid could translate.

It was Norwegian or nothing for the child.

Ingrid assumed that was the reason why Isabel's grip on her hand tightened significantly as they walked down the corridor. She assumed it was why her leg suddenly became the best hiding spot the child could think of.

There was no other explanation as to why her entire demeanour changed as soon as they left the room, from the excited and optimistic child she knew to an anxious and stoic child that she could barely recognise.

She knew better than to say anything though, knowing that if she started crying now she likely wouldn't stop until they were alone again. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option for Ingrid because she had to train, she couldn't just sit with Isabel all day.

As much as she would love to.

It was on purpose that they were the first in the dining room for breakfast, allowing them to make their way through the buffet slowly and sit on an empty table.

Isabel perked up when she noticed the empty room but it was only brief as slowly, all of the players trickled in, their voices loud and fast.

Ingrid squeezed the little girl closer to her, her heart breaking at the way Isabel tensed in her lap.

"Look, Is!" Ingrid pointed over at the door. "Caro's just arrived!"

She forced on a smile, her hands shaking and her breathing rapid.

"Hei, Caro." She whispered softly, not registering that the familiar face was on the other side of the room, completely occupied by the unfamiliar figure approaching.

"Ingrid." She tugged on the brunette's shorts, reaching her arms towards her. Ingrid understood exactly what she was asking for, pulling her onto her lap and wrapping her arms around her.

It was Frida who sat beside Ingrid, smiling as she placed her plate on the table and pulled her chair in.

"It's just Frida, Is, she's not scary at all." The brunette smiled apologetically at Frida as she loosened her hold on Isabel, encouraging her to look at the blonde.

She turned, a shy smile on her face as she leaned into Ingrid.

"Hi Isabel!" She grinned, quickly making Isabel more comfortable. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting you! Ingrid has told me so much about you."

She spoke in slow Norwegian, praying that the child would understand. She had heard all about her problems with confidence in the language - it was the only reason she hadn't met her before.

The blonde felt herself relax in relief as Isabel nodded, replying in hesitant Norwegian.

"Nice to meet you, Frida."

Ingrid grinned, placing a kiss on the top of Isabel's head which prompted the child to look up for affirmation.

"Good?"

"Perfect, Is! I'm so proud of you."

Frida could only smile at their interaction, completely aware of how much Ingrid adored the little girl, how much she worried that she would never be enough for her.

Frida knew she was more than enough. 

The table filled up slowly, but Isabel buried her head back into Ingrid again, apparently too scared to meet anyone else during breakfast. It changed slightly as they left the dining hall when she spotted Caro from afar, scampering over to the familiar forward and barging into the back of her legs.

Ingrid thanked her Barcelona teammate when Isabel was deposited at her room maybe five minutes later, waving goodbye to the child.

They didn't have long in the room, just enough time for Ingrid to change into her training clothes and quickly throw some paper, pencils and snacks in Isabel's backpack.

"If you get bored or tired or feel sick or anything, min elske, come straight to me, alright? Or you can find Caro if you want but make sure you tell someone so we can help you, alright?"

It was the same deal as at Barcelona training. Her time spent at training had decreased dramatically since starting school and usually Camila was there with her, but she would always sit on a rug under the same tree, occupying herself with drawing or colouring or another miscellaneous activity when she became bored of watching the football.

Usually, Baloo was right beside her, her leash tied onto the tree which allowed her a little bit of room to roam freely when Isabel wasn't holding her favourite animal.

But Baloo wasn't there and neither were the people that Isabel knew, the people she was comfortable enough with to say when something was wrong. Usually, things didn't go wrong.

But it was clear that the child was on edge, her emotions all over the place as she adjusted to Norway and all these new people.

"Phone to call Mami?"

She looked up hopefully and Ingrid smiled, putting her phone in the front pocket of the bag.

"To call Mami, Is. Don't play with this because if it breaks we won't be able to talk to her at all!"

Isabel nodded, letting Ingrid put the backpack on her back.

"Go time?"

The midfielder nodded, ignoring Isabel's hand that reached out to grab Ingrid and instead picking her up, settling her on her hip and holding her easily with one hand.

"Mami says I'm too big to be carried, Ingrid."

Ingrid laughed quietly, planting a soft kiss on her head.

"Maybe. But you'll always be our little girl."

~~~~~~

It turned out that Ingrid was worried for a good reason.

She had kept an eye on Isabel for most of training as she watched them train, as she did her drawing. She watched some, drew for a bit, over and over again. It was a cycle, really, and she wasn't getting bored.

But apparently she tried to call Mapi and Mapi didn't pick up.

That is where the tears had come from. That is why Caro had run the few metres over immediately picking her up and carrying her out of the view of the rest of the Norwegian players, Ingrid following quickly behind. 

She was inconsolable because she wanted to talk to her Mami, because she missed her Mami.

Mapi said she would pick up the phone when she called, she had promised her child that she was the most important thing in her life and that she would drop anything if she saw Ingrid's name come up on her phone.

It was why Isabel had been so keen to come to Norway, reassured over and over again that if anything went wrong, if she was sad, scared or just wanted to hear Mapi's voice she would be able to call and hear it.

But she had called and Mapi hadn't picked up. She remembers frowning, looking around and calling again.

And again.

And again.

By the fourth time, her hands were shaking.

By the fifth, she had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling so much.

By the sixth, there were tears in her eyes, beginning to slowly slip down her face.

But the seventh was the final straw, it seemed, and as soon as the straw was pulled out the child collapsed into sobs. Cries for her Mami, for her home.

Loud cries in Spanish, desperate for the home comfort of being able to speak her first language without worrying about any language barriers. 

Crying because she called seven times and Mapi hadn't picked up once. She said she would drop anything, because Isabel was the most important. She promised.

But she didn't.

Maybe she'd been in Norway too long. Maybe Mapi realised how much easier her life was without her daughter, how much better.

It was only day one. 

She knew she missed home, but it felt so far away.

Even as Ingrid held her close and rocked her as she had done so many times before. As she whispered quiet Spanish as the cries quietened down, allowing Isabel to whimper in her arms instead. 

"M-mami didn't pick up, Ingrid." The hurt in her voice was almost painful for Ingrid to hear. "Mami has more important things now I'm gone from her."

Immediately, Ingrid shook her head because there was no way she would let Isabel think that was true in even the slightest. 

Because everybody in Mapi's life knew that the little girl she called her daughter was the number one top priority at all times. There were never excuses, never changes. 

She was Mapi's everything and Ingrid knew that if the Spaniard caught wind of her daughter thinking this she would be completely and utterly heartbroken. 

It wasn't true. 

It was perhaps one of the most blindingly false statements Ingrid had ever heard. 

"That is not true, Isabel, and I don't want you to ever think or say that again."

Her voice was stern and left no room for questions and Isabel whimpered quietly.

"Mami loves you so, so much, Is. You will always be the most important thing in her life."

Her voice softened easily, but she frowned as Isabel held up seven of her fingers. 

"This many times. She didn't pick up."

Ingrid adjusted Isabel's position, facing her and looking her straight in the eye. 

"She might be driving, she might have left her phone in her room. She didn't ignore you, I promise."

The child looked up at her, the tearful eyes hopeful. 

"Promise?"

She held out her pinky which Ingrid shook gently. 

"I promise."

~~~~~~

Ingrid thinks that the whole incident may have been what triggered the homesickness. 

She wasn't sleeping in her own bed at all, only settling after hours of fidgeting and whimpering in Ingrid's arms, waking up after a couple hours of restless sleep.  

She was tearful all the time, always clinging onto Ingrid, reluctantly releasing her whenever she had to train. 

She only ate what was practically forced down her throat, claiming she was full, that she didn't feel hungry. 

Mapi thinks it is her fault, she shouldn't have gone to the wedding, she should have picked up the phone that day. It's all she can think about as she sits through the ceremony, almost booking a flight from her seat at the reception. 

But Ingrid was telling her not to, that it'd all be ok. She could deal with it for a few more days while the wedding was still on and Mapi could come afterwards if she wasn't getting any better.

But Ingrid desperately wanted to prove she could do this, she wanted to show Mapi and everyone else that she was a perfectly sufficient guardian to Isabel too. She had been there for so long but people still questioned it, questioned why she was so close with the little girl. 

It seemed so obvious to the Norwegian. She loved Mapi, she loved Isabel. Surely a further explanation was unnecessary. 

Mapi was entirely ridden with guilt, having left her phone in her hotel room as she reunited with her family. It was stupid, she knew, but she just hadn't been thinking. 

Ingrid's attempts to stop her from beating herself up about it were futile, especially since Isabel stopped trying to call, only speaking to Mapi when Ingrid held her and called the centre back before bed. 

She was scared, she didn't want to experience that rejection again. 

Match day came and so did Gudrun, only allowed into the hotel that morning so Ingrid could focus on the game. She was starting and the staff had told her no distractions, not until after the game was finished. 

Isabel loved Gudrun, the older Norwegian always spoiling and doting over the little girl with the bright eyes and big smile. It was unusual for Ingrid's mother to see Isabel so sad, so stoic when she arrived, malleable in Ingrid's arms as she was passed off. 

"She's homesick, Mama." Ingrid frowned and Gudrun could only stroke the top of her head. "She misses Mapi but won't call because there was an incident a few days ago where Mapi didn't pick up."

Gudrun smiled weakly, trying to silently reassure her daughter. 

"She'll be alright." She looked down at the child. "Have you had fun with Ingrid this week?"

Isabel looked over at the tall Norwegian who tried to hide the exhaustion from her face. It had been another restless night. 

She nodded easily, smiling. 

"Ingrid holds me when I can't sleep. And she let me use her as my climbing frame all week. So much fun with Ingrid."

Ingrid could have cried but she held it back, Gudrun smiling proudly at her daughter. 

"Ingrid is one of my favourite people in the world."

Isabel agreed easily. 

"Me too!" 

Gudrun hugged her daughter goodbye, letting Isabel place a kiss on her cheek before they left, heading out to the park for the few hours they had before the game. 

She played on the playground for a bit but retreated back to Gudrun when she couldn't communicate with the other children. All the people she had spoken to so far slowed down, aware that she was a Spanish child and Norwegian was her second or third language. 

The strangers on the playground didn't know that, so they couldn't communicate. 

And the Norwegian could easily read the situation as Isabel flopped onto the bench beside her, her sigh entirely too emotional for a four year old 

"What's bothering you, Isabel?"

She huffed again, climbing into Gudrun's lap and leaning backwards. 

"I miss Mami and Spain." She missed playing in the park with other kids, she missed being able to sit between Mapi and Ingrid after dinner, watching cartoons. She missed Patri and Pina teasing her and she missed Alexia and Frido's hugs. She missed the familiarity of home and she missed knowing all the players at training. She missed the freedom she had at the Barcelona campus and she missed her dog and cat. 

"I know you do. Mami and Spain miss you too."

But Isabel frowned, still stuck on the reason why her Mami didn't pick up the phone even though she tried so many times. 

"But-" She trailed off but Gudrun hummed encouragingly. "But Mami said she would pick up..."

Gudrun sighed quietly, hugging the child closer. 

"That doesn't mean she doesn't miss you, Isabel. She misses you so much."

"I haven't seen her in so long, I am scared she forgot."

"Forgot what?" Gudrun frowned easily, concerned about where her thoughts were. 

"Me." Isabel's voice was impossibly quiet as her eyes filled up with tears and Gudrun's heart broke at how small she sounded. 

She had a split second to decide how to deal with this. She could pass the problem onto Ingrid or Mapi, or she could deal with it herself and maybe help out the young couple. She could smile and tell Isabel that everything was perfect and happy and Mapi loved her or she could be more serious and try to get through to the child. 

So she sighed, adjusting Isabel on her lap so they were looking at each other. 

"I'm Ingrid's Mami, you know that right?"

Isabel nodded, staring up at the Norwegian. 

"And I live in Norway. Ingrid lives in Spain with you, doesn't she?"

The child nodded again, unsure where this was going. 

"Ingrid moved away when she was young, a long time ago. And I was so sad. So sad. I missed her every single day and my heart hurt because my little girl didn't feel like my little girl anymore. She had grown up."

"Mami said I would always be her little girl."

Isabel frowned, not able to draw any comparisons.

"And Ingrid is still mine. But like Ingrid did, you're growing up. This is your first time away from your Mami, and you are so far away from her for such a long time."

Isabel nodded. 

"I miss Mami a lot."

"Ingrid's first time away from home was when she was 11, a week in a place 4 hours away. I cried every night because I missed my little girl so much. And I know your Mami is the same. She is so sad without you, Is. You are so little and you are all she cares about. You are absolutely everything to your Mami and she misses every single thing about you."

Isabel's lip trembles, her eyes beginning to water. 

"And she missed your calls. She is so angry with herself because she didn't pick up because she would have much preferred to talk to you than to talk to anyone at that wedding. You are so important to her and you always will be. Just like Ingrid is so important to me."

Isabel nodded, taking a deep breath.

"You talk to Ingrid whenever she calls?"

Gudrun nodded easily. 

"And I get so excited because I love talking to her so much. But sometimes I miss calls too. Sometimes Ingrid gets upset and I am angry at myself. I love her so much and instead of picking up her calls I was busy with something that was nowhere near as important. Because nothing is as important to me as my children. Since they were born and until I die, they will always be first. And do you know why?"

"Because you love them." 

Gudrun nodded. 

"Because I love them." She confirmed with a nod. "And Mami missed your call, but she didn't mean to. I have missed Ingrid's calls before even though I love her so much."

"Mami loves me."

Gudrun smiled, pulling her in for a hug. 

"Yes, Mami loves you so so much. She misses how you feel in her arms, she misses the way you smell, she misses the way your eyes light up when you see something that excites you. She misses catching you when you run into her after school, she misses holding you after a game and watching you with her friends."

"How do you know all this."

"Because I am a Mami too. Mami's are all the same, we all love every single thing about our children."

Isabel nodded, silent for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

"Does Ingrid... does she love me like that too? Because I think I love her like I love Mami."

Gudrun squeezed her tighter, not a shadow of a doubt in her answer. There was no hesitation whatsoever.

"Of course she does."

Isabel was quiet again. Ingrid was Ingrid. She wasn't Mami, because that was Mapi. She wasn't Mama... because she was Ingrid.

But why was she just Ingrid? Why wasn't she Mama. She was like Mapi, really. She played a lot, cooked meals. Dropped her at school and picked her up sometimes too. 

She had rules for Isabel, things she could and could not do. When Isabel broke the rules, she would tell her off, just like Mapi would. She would give her consequences, although she was much better at sticking to them than Mapi. 

Isabel knew she didn't have a Papi like her friends at school. She had a Mami instead. 

And an Ingrid. 

"I think I love Ingrid like a Mami too."

~~~~~~

Apparently, Gudrun's words got through to Isabel, who insisted on calling her mother as soon as they were at the stadium. 

The Norwegian happily obliged, dialling her daughter's girlfriend and sighing in relief when the call immediately connected. It wasn't facetime, so Mapi couldn't see her daughter's beaming face, or the fact they were already sat in their seats in the family and friends section. 

"Gudrun?"

"Mami? Holaaa!"

The Spaniard's entire body relaxed right then and there, after what feels like months of worrying that her daughter hated her, that she would never forgive her. She had been so tense for the past few days, completely occupied by her anxieties. 

"My Is." Gudrun could hear the relief in her voice. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you too Mami." She frowned at the phone, looking up at Gudrun. "Where is she?"

The Norwegian frowned. 

"At home, Isabel, in Spain." 

But Isabel shook her head, pointing at the phone. 

"Her face?"

Mapi understood before Gudrun, quickly switching to a facetime call. 

"There she is!" Mapi beamed and her daughter returned the expression. "My little girl."

Isabel's smile grew and she leant back into Gudrun's embrace. 

"I'm your little girl." She sighed contentedly. "I love you Mami."

"I love you so much." She waited for Isabel to nod before continuing. "And I want you to know something, Is."

"What?"

"You are the most important thing in the whole entire world. You are my number one. Always."

Isabel just nodded casually. 

"I know."

Mapi was taken aback, surprised by her child's casual demeanour. She had expected to have to do some persuasion, based on the reports she was getting from Ingrid every night. The reports that had broken her heart over and over again, stomping on it and kicking it around.

"How do you- I mean, it's good you kno- it's true."

Isabel smiled happily at her mother's stuttering. 

"Gudrun told me that all Mami's are the same, and she loves Ingrid a whole lot. Ingrid is very important. It means that I matter most to you, like Ingrid matters most to her."

Mapi smiled gratefully at the camera, making a note to thank her girlfriend's mother profusely when she was off the phone call. 

"You are so right, my lion cub."

They stayed on the phone call throughout the whole game, Isabel flipping the camera as Ingrid walked out onto the field so Mapi could watch, her daughter's commentary right in the speaker as the game continued. 

She was still at the wedding, but had the afternoon in her room alone before the final ceremony that night as the game finished, she started to get ready, still on the facetime call as Gudrun lead Isabel down towards the field and as she was lifted over the barricade into Ingrid's arms. 

"It's Mami, Ingrid!"

The Norwegian was exhausted, sweaty and sore, but all she could feel was pure relief. 

Because Isabel was beaming, not a tear in sight. She was on the phone to Mapi which meant she had asked to call her because Ingrid told Gudrun to not bring it up - it had been a soft topic over the past couple of days. 

But there she was, her girlfriend all dressed up, hair and makeup done. 

It was the antithesis of Ingrid, really, her post match appearance a stark contrast to Mapi's pre dinner one. 

But both women felt nothing but happiness in that moment, relief washing over them as they realised everything was ok. Isabel was happy again, for now at least. 

They had four more days in Norway, the homesicknesses would surely make it's return at some point, but now she had Mapi to talk to whenever she wanted. Somehow her entire attitude had changed over the past few hours, apparently an easy switch that Ingrid just hadn't been able to find. 

But one look at her mother with a proud and satisfied smile settled upon her face told Ingrid everything she needed to know. 

So as Isabel scampered over to Caro, the phone still in her hand, Ingrid moved towards her mother, thanking her profusely as she hugged her tight. 

"I had no idea how much that little girl loves you, Ingrid."

Ingrid frowned. "What?"

She had told her so many times about the love she had for Isabel, the love that was so clearly reciprocated. 

"It's an exponential love, growing so quickly. She is a good girl, I am so proud of you."

Her frown changed quickly into a smile, her eyes filling up with tears. 

"Thank you, Mama."

She felt like Gudrun had no idea how much her daughter needed that affirmation, the encouragement that she was something to Isabel, someone important. 

But Gudrun knew. Of course she did. 

~~~~~~

Ingrid finally felt relaxed, the child dozing off slowly in her arms, finally relieved of all her sadness and stress. Her hands carded through the child's curly hair, whispering soft affirmations in her ears to send her to sleep. 

She was less restless that night, but still insistent on sleeping with Ingrid, her own bed so cold and empty on the other side of the room. 

But she was happy, finally, and for the first time since landing in Norway, Ingrid felt confident that she could do it. She could do it without Mapi, no matter how hard it was. She was more than just Mapi’s girlfriend, she was a real guardian of her child.

"Good night, Is. I love you so much."

Isabel hummed contentedly, snuggling closer into Ingrid's warm body. 

"I love you too, Mama."

The Norwegian could only freeze, her eyes filling up with happy tears, placing a kiss on the child's small head. 

Because Isabel hadn't been prompted at all. She meant it, she really saw Ingrid as her mother. 

And that meant the world to the Norwegian, who had spent so much time worrying that she would never be enough for the child, that she would always be an outsider within their little family, despite Mapi's intense efforts to try and reassure her that she was wrong. 

And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of Ingrid finally understanding that she really could be part of their little family.

Or even better, she would realise that she already was.

Ingrid: She called me Mama. I can't believe she called me Mama. 

Mapi: I can.  You are her Mama. She loves you so much.

~~~~~~ sorry this took so long and hope you enjoyed! 

tell me what you think!!

have a good day :)

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Bad Day, Bad Week, Bad Month

David Howard Thornton x Y/N - drabble - 943 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, mention of self harm, depression, sweet bf, 1000% based on true events of how my week has gone, enjoy munchkins <3

--------------------------------

You laid on the floor doing nothing but staring at the ceiling. The only light in the room coming from one of your salt lamps in the corner, casting an orange glow throughout the living room. The pitter patter of the rain on the windows echoed throughout the house. You heard the door open and shut but made no move to get up. 

“Hun?” you heard David call out as his steps got closer to the living room. “Having fun down there?” he asked, leaning on the back of the couch.

“Bad day. Bad week. Bad month.” you sighed.

David could see it, the exhaustion on your face. How the bags under your eyes had gotten darker, how your skin looked paler than normal, how your usually bubbly self was completely defeated. He felt bad, he had been visiting different conventions to finish promoting Terrifier 3. He tried to call most days but with the time differences and schedule conflicts you were both lucky if your texts got to each other.

“Don’t do that.” you said, eyes finally shifting to him. “Don’t feel bad or blame yourself.” you didn’t want to see the pity on his face.

David kicked his shoes off towards the front door before sitting criss-cross next to you. He gently held one of your hands, tracing over your fingers deftly. “Wanna tell me about it?” he asked, genuinely wanting to comfort you. 

You sighed, sitting up a bit to sit across from him. “I got laid off last month and haven’t found a new job yet. I have spent all the money I have on bills and have no idea how I’m going to pay for anything next month. Yesterday my fucking tire popped and of course its one of the tires that I didn’t get insured like the back two so I had to call family in tears to ask them for help and that was like $210. Just sobbing in a tire store. Oh! And I got denied from being able to sell plasma to make a bit of money because of a treatment I had 10 years ago that even my doctor said is long out of my system and wouldn’t affect anything. Everything just… sucks.” you rambled on, you don’t remember when you started crying but you were. 

David pulled you into his chest, letting you cry as he held you close. “Baby why didn’t you tell me about anything?” 

“I don’t want to depend on you. I don’t want people to think I’m some gold digger if we ever went public. I’m an adult and I’m supposed to have my shit together.” you said, sounding incredibly harsh towards yourself.

“I understand all that but life is life and it happens. There is nothing wrong with asking for help.” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“There is a difference between asking for a cup of sugar kind of help and asking for financial help.” you said.

David knew you had issues with trust and money. When you two started dating it took a solid 6 months before you let him pay for dinner. He has always tried to work within the confines of your anxiety, but right now? There was no room to work within, you were just going to have to trust him. 

“I know you don’t want it, but I’d like to help you. I don’t like seeing you in pain and this stress I guarantee is making your depression and anxiety worse.” he said before his eyes widened slightly, “Have you…” he trailed off quietly but you knew what he was asking.

You averted your eyes, “It was days ago, I’m fine. I don’t want to die, I just needed something else to focus on.” you mumbled, curling into him as you tried to hide away. 

David’s arms tightened around you. He knew you struggled with self harm and had been doing better with it but it wasn’t an overnight battle and he knew that. He made sure not to rub against your upper thighs as he knew that's where you typically did it. Your sobs had turned to sniffles by now and David could feel how tired you were. Your tense muscles finally unwinding in his grasp. “Hey,” he said, turning your cheek to face him and caressing it as he spoke. “Why don’t we have a shower then we can order some take out, whatever you want. And I have a little surprise for you,”

You quirked your eyebrow at him, not having a clue what it could be.

“I have a copy of Terrifer 3, Damien and I are the only ones with copies. Very hush hush.” he said, making you giggle. Finally, a sweet sound escaping you that he had missed so dearly. “Does all of that sound like an acceptable plan?” he asked with a smirk. 

“Quite satisfactory.” you said, smiling at him before finally indulging in a kiss that you both had longed for. You shifted in his lap, moving your legs to straddle him so the both of you were more comfortable. However, as you felt David’s strong hands caress over your hips and up to your sides you felt a heat take over you that you had craved while he was away. Only he could make you feel like this. “Here, bed, or shower?” you breathed against his lips.

“Shower.” he said gruffly before you bolted for the bathroom, shrieking with excitement as he chased you. Everything was always better when he was with you, he just had that effect. And you want to relish in it as long as you can. 

-------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!!! I hope you all enjoy this one, have a good day my precious babies. Life is still fucking me with no lube so posting might be a little irregular as I am starting my new job on Monday. Thank you all for the support and patience. XOXOXOX!!!!!!

[greensbeanspotatoestomatoes]

Alright so this one is based on this post, of the lovely fairy AU by the lovelier @lara-cairncross<3

Some content warnings maybe?? if there's anything else let me know. Mentions of over stimulation and hints of the ol’ autism. Also mentions of dying although although that doesn't happen!!

Anyways I hope you enjoy!

==========

He swears he didn’t mean to do it. He was just having one of those days, y’know? 

The morning started off fine, he even got the hinges on his new project to work flawlessly! It’s just, he dropped his screwdriver. And then he dropped the nails. And then the workshop got too crowded and noisy. And, by then, The Feeling had set in.

Luckily, it didn’t Feel like full shut down. But it did make his mouth feel sour, and his head heavy and his skin all prickly. All in all, Donnie was in a Bad Mood. Just not bad enough to miss visiting April later though. He hoped.

April had introduced them to the Clumsy Big Box of Colours last week, and he was just dying to get a good look at how it all worked. How did those big, clumsy hands put those little miniatures into the Box and make them move? With speaking and music too! 

At first they’d been horrified. His brothers thought the Clumsies had captured and de-winged fairies for their entertainment! But after April reassured them that it wasn’t anything like that, that it was purely Clumsy technology, Donnie had been hungry to figure out how it worked.

Unfortunately Mikey had started to feel a bit queasy in the bright light and colours of the Box, so April turned it off, much to Donnie’s dismay. But she promised him he could take a look at it when they visited again next week. Well it's been seven days and he hasn't been able to take his mind off the Box. He’s itching to get a look at it. And his family doesn’t have another gap in their schedule to fly to April for a while. So he has to go today. Bad Mood be damned.

But minutes start to feel like hours as the day drags on and every minor inconvenience becomes 10 times more aggravating. Donnie’s tense and quiet during the flight, just allowing the voices of his family to wash over him. It soothes him a little and his head feels less jumbled by the time they make it to the Main Land. It doesn’t take them long to reach April’s house, with Leo flying them at his top speed. She spots them a couple of seconds before they arrive, always seeming to know exactly when they’re coming. April throws open her windows with a smile and a bright “Hey guys! Come on in!”

They touch down on the kitchen island among the bowls of fruit. Raph immediately gets his hands on a strawberry to munch on, tossing one to Leo as well. April chuckles at their antics, and giggles when Mikey flutters up to her hair to admire her new headband, before spotting Donnie quiet on the counter.

“Oh Dee! The TV’s in the other room, c’mon.”

She reaches her hand out, palm up and some of the tension drains from his shoulders. He has his brace on, fully capable of flight, but the thought of putting his wings to use right now feels so draining, so he gladly takes her offered lift.

April walks them to the TV room, making short work of the journey that would have been a mission for him to fly. “It’s all set up, the power’s off so you won’t get a shock, so tinker to your heart’s content! Just, uh, try and put it all back in the right place?”

He just nods his head along to her words as April sets him down next to the Big Box of Colours. “Well, here you go. Uh, we’ll be in the kitchen, Mike wants to learn how baking works,” she chuckles, “Give me a shout if you need anything.” And with that she gives him a smile before turning back to the kitchen, “Enjoy!”

And then Donnie is alone with the Box. Shaking out the buzzing in his bones, he sets his toolbelt down and gets to work on the most interesting piece of equipment he’s ever laid eyes on. 

So he promises it was an accident. He had felt so excited about this opportunity. But he underestimated the complexity of the Box and he was quickly growing frustrated at his inability to understand it. And the sounds of April and his brothers in the kitchen were starting to make his head pound.

And a half an hour later, when April came to check up on him, she didn’t know she was doing anything wrong. She just thought she was getting his attention. But she poked him, and Donnie did the thing he always does when one of his brothers pokes him while he’s working, or when his head is sore, or when he’s in a Bad Mood. He turns his head and he bites.

“Ow!!”

Now, he knows April is a Clumsy. He knows fairy bites are toxic to them. He knows his bite is the most poisonous of his whole family’s. So he knows that under no circumstances should he ever bite April. But in his Bad Mood he’d forgotten it all. And with dawning horror, he realises it might have just cost his best friend her life.

“April!!”

“Donnie!”

He hears his big brother shout his name, when Mikey and Leo shout for April, and the shock and fear in Raph’s voice is just too much. All of the Bad Mood comes surging up and he feels his eyes start to wet.

They're flying towards him and April, but Donnie can do nothing as he watches his venom course through April’s veins, slowly killing her. His brothers frantically fly around her, asking her all sorts of questions, but April tries to shoo them away. “It’s just a little bite,” she says clutching her finger, “Don’t worry guys, I’m fine!”

“No you’re not!” Donnie shouts, “I bit you, and fairy bites are fatal to Clumsies!”

April goes quiet. They all do. They're waiting. Eventually, after a minute of nothing happening, April speaks. “Is something supposed to happen? Nothing’s wrong.”

In the silence, Leo touches down on the table next to Donnie. He looks up at April, then to Donnie, then to Raph who landed next to him as well. “...No you should definitely feel bad. Dee’s bite is pretty quick working.”

Mikey still flutters worriedly between his brothers and April. “Do you guys think… it’s related to the voice thing?”

‘The voice thing?’

Raph puts it together first. “April is immune!” he cries suddenly. “It;s the same reason she can understand us! April is immune to fairy poison!”

Relief washes through Donnie because it makes sense. April can hear them, when humans shouldn't be able to. She always knows when they’re coming, and she didn't die when he bit her. April is immune.

Tears that never quite left, spring to his eyes again. “April I'm so so sorry, I should never have bit you. We didn't know. And you could've died, and it would've been all my fault–”

“Hey.” She kneels down next to the table so her eyes are level with his, “It’s alright Dee. You didn't mean it. And I’m perfectly fine. It’s even more proof that I’m the specialist snowflake,” she puts on her smug grin, like she always does, and laughs. Donnie gives a wet chuckle too.

“How about we leave the tinkering and watch something on the TV instead? Something black and white so the colours don’t affect Mikey. The muffins are almost done too and we can have a snack while we watch. The TV will always be here another day if you want to take a look then. So what do you say?”

She holds out her hand, offering him another lift, and he easily takes it again.

They end up watching some historic Clumsy movie that April calls a classic, munching on pieces of warm muffin. Mikey and Leo pass out relatively quick and Donnie sits leaning against Raph. They’re on April’s lap, which means the people he loves are all nearby and all healthy and safe. 

His Bad Mood felt a little less bad after that.

===========

Is Leo my favourite character? Yes. Do i keep writing Donnie-centric stories? Also yes.

I do plan to write on the others soon though, I swear I have other ideas y'all, this one just wrote the easiest.

Also RIP Frida, you're not mentioned bc I have no idea who you are yet. </3

[aimeedaisies]

On the road with the inexhaustible Princess Anne

8am 800 miles travelled, 12pm 650 hands shaken, 9pm 0 cups of tea drunk

By Hannah Furness, 9 May 2024

The Princess Royal is standing up a 42ft tower, looking out to sea in a north-westerly force six wind. Her hair, that neat up-do that has barely changed in 40 years, does not move, even as a sudden gust blows a seagull past her eyeline.

‘It’s quite exposed,’ she says, with understatement, then gets on with peppering her hosts with questions about tides, volunteer timetables and what precisely the diggers on the beach below are doing.

Outside the watchtower, her arrival in the Lancashire seaside town of Fleetwood has caused the smallest of stirs. A handful of curious dog-walkers gaze at her, camera-phones aloft, and she offers them a brief wave.

Inside, the volunteers of the National Coastwatch Institution (NCI) could not be more excited for a visit from their royal patron. The chairman, Stephen Hand, launches into a stream of compliments about the Princess’s work. ‘If I haven’t made the point clearly enough,’ he finishes, ‘we love her.’

This is her first engagement in a day that will see her travel 421 miles from Gloucestershire to Lancashire, then Merseyside, and back again via helicopter and Range Rover. It is one of 10 engagements in this typical week; she will complete about 450 this year.

‘She’s a dynamo,’ says the CEO of The Pony Club. ‘The best president imaginable,’ agrees the chairman of Carers Trust. ‘She should be queen,’ offers a member of the public. This is said at least once a day.

Not for nothing does she have the reputation as Britain’s hardest-working royal. In numbers of engagements, she and the King vie for the top spot each year. While he and the Princess of Wales have taken time off from public engagements to undergo cancer treatment, the 73-year-old Princess Royal has ploughed on with her head down, her work the definition of ‘unsung’.

Most of the time, that is how she likes it. She has eschewed the ‘rota’ system of journalists, photographers and broadcasters who cover her family’s outings. ‘I don’t go for their benefit,’ she once said of the press. ‘I go for the people who ask me.’

This week, in the middle of April, she has made an exception to grant vanishingly rare permission for The Telegraph to follow her on the road, for a snapshot of her work.

At no small effort from her close-knit team, which has accommodated me in its nomadic office, I have been allowed to document her encounters with the approximately 650 people she has met, the many charities and organisations she has put in the spotlight – and report from inside a Windsor Castle investiture for the first time.

I’ve spent seven years writing about the Royal family, travelling across the UK and the world to watch them at work, but Princess Anne’s no-fuss, no-frills team is unlike anything I’ve seen up close before. Professional and precise, she barely stops – every hand is shaken and every minute counts.

The Plan

The Princess’s diary is set months in advance. Twice a year, her office sends an invitation to 300-plus organisations she is affiliated with, asking for their requests for her time. Typically she’ll receive 1,000 to 1,200 requests a year – some suggest a visit, others ask her to write forewords to books, or ask for meetings. All are compiled into a database, arranged by date and region, and printed neatly in a book for the Princess to study. ‘[She] goes through everything required and decides what she’s going to do and when,’ says a member of the team. A planning meetings follows – and ‘once [the programme is] set, she sticks to it’.

Across the year, the Princess Royal travels the width and breadth of the United Kingdom

Her staff then go through it again to add last-minute audiences into the gaps. ‘The week is there to be filled,’ one long-serving team member tells me. ‘If she’s got a free hour and a half in London, we’ll look again to see what else to add.’

The Princess’s team is small but mighty. There’s her private secretary, Colonel John Boyd, who is fresh from 32 years in the British Army; her deputy private secretary, Commander Anne Sullivan (the double Annes occasionally cause confusion for outsiders); as well as five programme managers tasked with ironing out the exact schedule, right down to how long the Princess can spend talking to each person.

They are aided by 13 ladies-in-waiting, spread geographically, who accompany her out and about. Some of her first, who began working with her in the early 1970s, have only just retired.

‘You never quite know what she’s going to say yes to, but it’s never an outright no,’ says the long-serving team member of her schedule. ‘She’s probably been to more industrial estates than any other royal.

Monday - Estimated miles travelled - 0 (worked from home)

Hands shaken - 8

‘It’s a balance of what do the organisations want, what could she hear or learn or teach here? Every day is a school day where the Princess is concerned.’

At Gatcombe Park, her Gloucestershire home, the Princess’s assistant, Donna, welcomes a small group of eight smartly dressed representatives from the Royal Dairy Innovation Award with a cup of tea and a biscuit.

The Princess joins them once they are settled, in a homely barn conversion with framed seascapes on the walls. She reassures them that it’s ‘not going to be one of those formal events’, then starts grilling them about the Nova Scotian dairy industry and on-shore salmon farming.

Ash Amirahmadi OBE, winner of the prestigious Princess Royal Award, is there to officially collect the certificate honouring his leadership in the dairy industry. Afterwards, when the private engagement has sunk in, he tells me: ‘We had practised our formalities but she immediately put us at ease.

‘I was thinking, “How does she know this stuff, and how does she remember?” I come across eminent scientists and business leaders and not many have a better understanding of the food system than the Princess Royal.’

Ash Amirahmadi, the winner of this year’s Princess Royal Award, pictured with the Princess Royal

Before he leaves, the Princess tells him that she’ll be in touch to sign him up to deliver a speech at a conference next year.

She fits in a horse ride, dodging the worst of the day’s rain and hail she feared could be ‘painful’.

‘There’s no such thing as bad weather,’ she says later, with satisfaction. ‘Only inappropriate clothing.’

Tuesday - Estimated miles travelled - 421

Hands shaken - 200+

In Fleetwood, the wind whips across the sandy beach and the Princess Royal doesn’t flinch. She is there with a handful of volunteers from the NCI, celebrating its 30th anniversary. With an average age of 69, these are the local ‘eyes and ears’ that saved 22 people from trouble in the water last year by raising the alarm.

After a turn with the telescope, the Princess – wearing a navy-blue coat, colourful silk scarf and (the now famous) wraparound sunglasses – reaches the top of the Rossall Point Observation Tower, which looks out over Morecambe Bay, where conditions can be treacherous.

The Princess Royal inspects the Rossall Point Observation Tower

‘It really is extraordinary,’ she says. ‘Classically people say the sea is never the same, but in a place like this it really never is the same. The seasons, the bird life, the activity…’ Everyone nods.

This visit, it emerges, has little in common with most royal engagements, where guests of honour hear how things work. This has more of an air of a diligent business manager checking in on a regional branch. Nothing needs explaining to the Princess, a keen sailor and lighthouse aficionado, and she wins the approval of what could be a tough crowd with on-the-money observations about tide timings.

She speaks sparingly. Questions and remarks are formed from one or two words: ‘Since?’ ‘Previous experience?’ ‘Quite handy.’ She has a reply to everything, having travelled every inch of Britain in the line of duty.

John Bradford, who at 77 is the longest-serving volunteer, waits on the tower to shake her hand, but he is accidentally missed. The Princess is swept on to the next part of the engagement, presenting long-service awards and meeting 25 more volunteers in the nearby Marine Hall, accompanied by her new lady-in-waiting Dolly Maude, a midwife and friend of Zara Tindall who wastes no time in charming the room.

When her team discover someone has been missed out, they tell the Princess directly and Mr Bradford is whisked into the very last line-up.

‘I’m very glad you made it in,’ the Princess tells him, spending an extra few moments in conversation.

Then, plaque and certificate duties completed, she disappears to a back room where sandwiches are on offer. Ten minutes later, she’s back on the road.

It is a cliché that the Royal family thinks the world smells of fresh paint. The ground floor of the watchtower was drained of flood water shortly before the Princess’s arrival and the corridors at her next engagement in Merseyside have the distinct smell of bleach – but at the Wrea Green Equitation Centre in Preston, it is quite the opposite: a muck heap has been left intact. The hosts deem futile any attempts to fool the Princess into thinking it didn’t exist. She is, after all, a life-long equestrian.

She arrives on time; I do not. Without a helicopter, it’s impossible to keep up with her formidable itinerary.

Skipping the champagne reception and tea party, put on to celebrate 25 years of the Pony Club Centre Membership Scheme, the Princess instead strides around the yard watching the young riders and their parade of ponies.

She tours the stables and classrooms, chatting to children about horse massage and how side-saddle is still relevant for people with prosthetic legs, then she holds a presentation of commemorative plaques to 20 proprietors, each of whom has a different chat with her.

When a ‘naughty pony’ in a stable behind her unties itself to join the royal party, she is entirely unfazed.

‘She didn’t mind a bit,’ says Marcus Capel, CEO of The Pony Club – she simply carries on talking while stroking the pony’s ears.

The third engagement of the day: Sefton Carers Centre at Waterloo in Merseyside, which supports unpaid carers. Some of those assembled remember the Princess from 30 years ago, when she opened the centre. She is back to celebrate the anniversary.

Wearing a red jacket that looks strikingly similar to the one she was wearing back then (only the length and buttons are different), she hails a stream of people with a cheerful, ‘I haven’t seen you for a while,’ and, ‘This has changed a bit.’

The Princess Royal visits the Sefton Carers Centre to celebrate its 30th anniversary

Everyone is assembled in horseshoe shapes – her preferred arrangement for talking – and she ploughs on with gloved handshakes, getting through five large rooms of people. Among them are two men in their 90s who care for their wives with dementia, an eight-year-old girl in a wheelchair dressed as a princess, and teenagers who look after siblings and parents before and after school.

Some are nervous; a few curtseys are a little shaky. The Princess has a neat trick: her questions get more specific – no opinions are required, just short, easy-to-recall facts, to help ease them in. ‘Where do you live?’ ‘How long have you been coming here?’

Her own opinions are brief, delivered as common sense. On hearing that GPs don’t see the same families from cradle to grave any more, so find it difficult to support carers, the Princess says: ‘That’s part of the way people live their lives.’

She spends a few extra moments talking to the building’s cleaner, loudly declaring her ‘very important’. When one woman jokes about her long service, adding, ‘I think my face shows it,’ the Princess does an exaggerated double-take and says, ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

She has another habit, shared with King Charles, of ending engagements by turning back for one last comment, leaving the impression she wishes she could stay.

The Princess Royal cuts the cake, on the promise it will be eaten

Downstairs, she unveils her third plaque of the day. There is a celebratory cake on the table in front of her and an expectant crowd waiting. She takes control of the moment. ‘You want the cake cut? On the basis that you’re going to eat it? Otherwise it’s just vandalism.’

Before she leaves, she is presented with a large rose planter. ‘Oh my word, a monster!’ she marvels. ‘What a lovely thing… I hope the helicopter can cope.’

By the end of the day, in small heels and with the briefest of breaks, she has spoken to at least 250 people. If she’s flagging, it doesn’t show.

Wednesday - Minutes of continuous conversation - 180

Hands shaken - 140

At 11 o’clock in Windsor Castle, Yeomen of the Guard stand on duty in the Grand Reception Room, as the Countess of Wessex’s String Orchestra plays quietly. The Princess Royal moves into position, wearing naval uniform, and the orchestra strikes up with God Save the King. Standing on a dais, a red velvet stool placed in front of her, she is ready for a full day of investitures.

The Princess is one of only three members of the family who perform them and while the King and the Prince of Wales have been needed at home, she has been carrying the load.

Some 140 people will receive an honour today, among them Paul Hollywood, who is being made an MBE. The pair discussed the smells of baking, he says later. ‘She loves Chelsea buns. I did promise her some so I’m not quite sure how I’m going to sort it out.’

The Great British Bake Off judge Paul Hollywood was among those honoured by the Princess Royal

Diana Parkes, a domestic violence campaigner who has worked with Queen Camilla in memory of her daughter, is made a CBE. She finds immediate common ground with the Princess via a family member who sold her horses.

One of the large team that makes the investitures happen tells me quietly that ‘you can always tell when it’s HRH’ on duty, because the day takes longer.

In theory, the Princess has her deputy private secretary on hand to jog her memory with details about people as the Lord Chamberlain announces each name. In practice, says a long-serving aide, she sends investiture notes back with her own comments about where she has met people before and which of her patronages they have links to. This is the case ‘95 per cent of the time’.

‘She’s got such a great brain. We often hear, “You must have briefed her really well,” but no, it’s all her. She makes it very easy in that respect.’ As each encounter winds up with a brisk handshake, recipients walk backwards to bow – desperate to get it right before rejoining their watching families. The Princess smiles at each one like they could not have performed it better.

After the 90-minute session has overrun slightly, she takes lunch in the private apartments before repeating it all in the afternoon.

Thursday - Core working hours - 9

Hands shaken - 250+

London’s Guildhall. The Princess Royal arrives via train for The Lord Mayor’s Big Curry Lunch, a City fundraiser for military veterans which has raised more than £3.3 million since it began in 2008.

To walk in as an outsider is to enter a new world where London’s livery companies (guilds dating back to medieval times) line the corridors with stalls – the Worshipful Companies of Bakers, Fruiterers, Gardeners, Pewterers and Framework Knitters are all there.

The Princess has no entourage, only her protection officers and one lady-in-waiting. She does not bat an eyelid at being escorted in by members of The Company of Pikemen & Musketeers, who wield weapons from the Charles I era and take their roles seriously.

Guests are an eclectic mix – a pearly queen mingles with barristers and bankers, alongside the military. An injured veteran in his mid-30s tells me: ‘In the Army, I’ve often been in front of high-ranking people who don’t care what you have to say at all… She’s different.’

Michael Hockney, co-chairman of the event, says the Princess is ‘very well-known and popular in the City because she’s involved in the livery movements’.

The Princess Royal greets the traders at London's Guildhall

Lunch is served on long tables. The Princess sits with servicemen and women, eating from an identical plate piled with chicken tikka masala, prawn malai, dal, rice and mango chutney.

Ballanupalli Sainath Rao, executive chef, asks if she remembers her last visit, in 2015, when she said she knew the factory of the company supplying the food and thought they could offer more variety than chicken every year. ‘Two meats and three vegetables,’ she suggested. Chef Rao added the prawn dish on that advice. ‘We had a lot of compliments.’

The Princess is plied with goodie bags, including matching socks for her and Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence, her husband. On her way out, she views a small garden with artwork by children from forces families and inspects a stall from the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers (est 1272); the stallholders have been hastily restocking ice and swatting away flies as they wait in the sunshine.

‘She was saying it’s great to see the array of fish,’ fishmonger Andrew Kenny explains afterwards. ‘She asks really precise questions… It’s very disarming.’

Climbing into a waiting car, the Princess tells the organisers: ‘[I’m] not causing too much chaos, I hope.’ And then she’s off – next stop Buckingham Palace.

At 7pm, the Princess Royal walks through the ‘secret door’, disguised as a mirror and cabinet, which links the Palace’s private rooms to the White Drawing Room, a State Room with a gold piano, familiar from some of the late Queen Elizabeth II’s Christmas broadcasts. Tonight, she is hosting a black-tie dinner to celebrate The Duke of Edinburgh’s Commonwealth Study Conferences, which bring together future leaders to address pressing problems facing the world. In particular, she is saluting the Canadian team, which has led the way in hosting the conferences and keeping her father’s vision alive.

The Princess Royal enters Buckingham Palace's White Drawing Room via the secret door.

Wearing a long skirt and sequinned jacket in red to match the Canadian flag, she carries a handbag under her arm and wears her late mother’s three-strand pearls. Unlike other royals, the Princess’s team won’t confirm to the press what exactly she is wearing. One suspects anyone who asked would get short shrift.

She spends roughly an hour in the Picture Gallery, working her way through a crowd. One guest tells her of her memories of a drinks reception with the late Queen and Prince Philip on Britannia, during their visit to Ontario in 1984. Asking another about their trip to London, she agrees that walking is the best way to get around, although ‘not at this time of night and dressed like this’.

Ahead of a dinner of poached citrus salmon salad, roasted lamb, and crème brûlée with poached rhubarb, the Princess delivers an eight-minute speech. At one time, she is said to have written every speech herself. Nowadays, she often works from prepared notes, which she edits ruthlessly with liberal red pen strokes and capital letters.

The conferences, she says, were ‘envisioned by my late father, but I suspect he never thought it would last this long.

The Princess Royal greets guests at the Duke of Edinburgh's Commonwealth Study Conferences dinner.

‘At the moment, in these rather difficult times – post-Covid and just generally complicated – it’s just as important to have the ability to bring people together across the widest possible range.’

The Princess will stay on for dinner, sitting at a round table and entertaining guests until long after sundown.

Friday - Minutes on feet presenting honours - 90

Hands shaken - 79

Friday morning and the Princess is back at it with an investiture. There are 79 people this time, with their families, in the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace.

Neil Constable, former CEO of Shakespeare’s Globe, is here to receive his OBE for services to theatre. He says afterwards that the ‘professional’ Princess knew the brief so well that she could make conversation about both his previous job and his next, at The Musicians’ Company. She told him she had just been to the Guildhall that week for the Big Curry Lunch, adding, ‘You’ll have a great time with them.’

‘You leave thinking, wow, actually we had a really good conversation,’ he says. ‘We talked about her late father Prince Philip being a long-standing patron of the Globe and how some of the timber from the Globe came from Windsor Great Park’, donated by Prince Philip.

‘[She] made it a very special day.’

At this point, I close the notebook that clocks in at 84 pages of shorthand. Everyone – kindly, warmly, generously – is saying the same thing, and we have run out of superlatives. The job, too, must get repetitive but you would never know it. In continually asking questions, the Princess has found a way to keep interested even after all these decades.

Princess Anne salutes at the conclusion of a commissioning ceremony aboard HMCS Max Bernays as part of Fleet Week, in North Vancouver, B.C

She treats her work as a ‘nine-to-five job’, one Palace source tells me. ‘Except it doesn’t often finish at five.’ I have barely seen her sit and haven’t seen her accept a single cup of tea while working.

The week after we meet, the Princess will be in Windsor, Shropshire, Cambridgeshire, London and Cornwall. After that, she will go from the Royal Windsor Horse Show to Canada for a three-day trip with Sir Tim.

She will be 75 next year but shows no sign of slowing down. I am half her age – and after barely a week of trying to keep up with her, I’m off for a lie down.

Weekly total

Estimated miles travelled - 818

Hands shaken - 677+

[ravencoloredroses]

Experiment

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Az is gone on a mission and two people from the past decide to pay the reader a visit to do some experiments…..

Warnings: fire, blood, swearing

Word Count: 4,258

A/N: Here’s my first Az fic! This one’s really angsty with a hint of fluff. Thanks for reading!!! I hope you like it! <3

—————————————————————————

The morning sunshine wakes me up before my alarm. I roll over to my mate's side of bed to snuggle into his warmth, but I only find a cold and empty spot. He’s gone. Well, not gone, he’s out on a mission. Has been for a while.

Something about making sure the Autumn Court is sticking to our agreement, at least that’s what I remember him telling me. That was 2 weeks ago, Az has been gone for 2 whole weeks.

I know not to worry, he’s literally the spymaster of the Night Court. But he’s also my best friend, my mate, and every second he’s not with me I don’t feel like myself.

Our family has been trying to cheer me up, it’s not really working but I still appreciate it. Feyre took me to a painting class, which I was actually really excited for! That was before the instructor told us to paint what we envision our future to look like, then I wasn’t so excited.

He’s never been away this long before, and if he was sent on a longer mission, he took me with him. This one I wasn’t allowed to come along, Azriel said so himself. I tried not to feel upset that he didn’t want me there, because I know he’s doing it to protect me. The Autumn Court is not exactly the safest place right now, especially for the mate of the Night Court’s spymaster.

With a grunt I roll out of bed, not interested in facing this day at all. I stumble over to the bathroom and try not to look at myself in the mirror. I know I look awful. It’s hard enough to get out of bed most days, let alone take care of myself.

Turning on the water in the bathtub, I let it burn my skin before turning it colder. Washing myself with his soaps has always been a comfort for me. Surrounding myself with things that smell of him is the only reason I survive when he’s gone. The bond between us has been gray since he left. I know that he has to close it when he leaves, but it still hurts every time I look at it.

Once the water has gone cold and my fingers start to prune is when I decide to get out. I reach over and grab his robe, it drags on the floor as I wrap it around myself. Getting dressed in our closet, I pick out an actual outfit instead of just something of Azriel’s to sleep in. The plan today is to try to leave the house and go grocery shopping. I’ve been struggling to make things to eat with whatever scraps we have lying around.

Azriel and I live on the outskirts of Velaris, away from most people. We picked this house for privacy, but that also means that most stores are like 20 miles away. That’s fine when you have an Illyrian mate with huge wings, but when he’s not here I have to walk into town.

Finally picking out a decent outfit, black leggings and a huge oversized cream sweater. It was a gift Azriel got from Mor a couple Starfall’s ago, but she bought it without looking for wing holes, now it’s mine. It doesn’t smell like him though, so I walk over to our dresser, grab his cologne and spritz a little of it on me.

Next I move onto my hair, or should I say rats nest. Ripping out a few chunks as I struggle to brush it, I quickly braid it back out of my face. Once I’m satisfied with my appearance, I head out of the house to finally find something to eat.

About 20 minutes into my walk I hear a pair of footsteps behind me. Trying to nonchalantly look and see who it is, I see a hooded figure about 10 feet behind me. I break out into a jog, attempting to put some distance between us and I hear their footsteps pick up the pace with me.

As I’m rounding a corner, another hooded figure comes out in front of me. I stop dead in my tracks, nowhere to go. “Don’t try anything stupid.” The one in front of me says. “This will all be over soon.”

I’m about to respond when a white powder is thrown over me. Faebane. Screaming out to Rhys in my mind, hoping, praying, that he can hear me. The last thing I remember was being picked up in someone’s arms and them saying, “Not so strong without your spymaster, aren’t you?”

Then everything went black.

— —

I’m jolted awake by a bucket of water splashing on me. I try to move my arms, but soon realize that they are tied together so tight I can’t move a muscle. “Thank you for joining us, my dear.” My captor says. I pry my eyes open and look at my surroundings.

I’m in some kind of basement, a cell, the only door I see is behind a wall of metal bars. My hair is yanked to force my head up, and I see the person's face for the first time.

“Well aren’t you pretty, looks like our step brother has done something right for once.” Step brother? Are these… Azriel’s step brothers?

“What do you want?” I spit out trying not to show how scared I am. These are the people who put Azriel in the most excruciating pain he’s ever been in, the people who caused the scars on his hands.

Out of the corner of my eye I see another person walk into the light. When I can finally see both faces, the one gripping my hair throws me back down on the ground. ”What do we want?” The one in the back laughs. “We want to do a little experiment.” With every word they speak I can feel my heartbeat growing faster. I’m realizing that there’s no getting out of this situation without being hurt.

“You see, when we found out our little brother had a mate, we wanted to put that bond between you to the test. So we came up with a plan: wait for Azriel to leave for a mission, capture you, and then do our experiment here. Only problem was that your special Highlord placed wards on your house so we had to wait until you left the house. And for whatever reason, you decided to stay inside for two weeks, only leaving while accompanied by your Highlady.”

“Today is finally the day brother,” He says, looking over to the other one. “Let’s say that step one is completed, and move on to step two.” He looks at me again while the other brother leaves the room.

“Now, here’s where you come in. I’m sure Azriel has told you of our first experiment with him about 500 years or so ago.” He brings over a chair and sits down in front of me. “Well we’re going to recreate that today, but with a twist.” The other brother comes back with a bucket and a book of matches.

I swallow the lump in my throat and try once again to call out to Rhys for help, but the faebane must not be out of my system yet. With Az gone they rarely check on me, so they won’t notice I’m missing. Fabulous.

“Oh sweetie, don’t be scared! Your precious mate went through this exact same thing. Now, we could make this quick, but we really don’t want to. I understand you’re not fully High Fae, so I am interested to see how your healing properties work. Let’s begin shall we?” He gestures over to the brother holding the bucket to come over.

My heart is now beating so loud, I bet they can hear it. Running out of options, I try the only thing I can think of. Begging. “Please. You don’t want to do this. If- if I die, Azriel will hunt you down and torture you for years before he kills you.”

They both laugh. The one with the bucket sets it down in front of me and I can smell what’s in it. Gasoline. He grabs my chin so I look up at him. “That’s a lot of confidence you have in him. Who’s to say he’ll ever find your body? We plan on keeping you here for our… uses… for a while, my dear.” He lets go of my chin roughly and reaches behind him to grab his knife.

“First thing to go is gonna be these awful clothes.” He says as he uses his knife to cut away at my sweater, leaving me in just a bra from the waist up. I can feel cuts on my chest drip with blood, he wasn’t careful with cutting it off. “Alright, now that that’s taken care of, let’s get started.”

Now I’m terrified. I never got to say goodbye to my family, never got to say goodbye to Az. “Wh-what kind of experiment are you gonna do?” I try stalling.

“We wanna see if your mating bond will transfer your pain over to Azriel. And then if he has the power to figure out your location from the bond as well. Since Azriel has been through our first experiment, he should recognize the pain you feel.” He stays standing up and pushing his chair away.

“W-well with the faebane in my system, the b-bond won’t feel anything. N-not until it w-wears off.” I struggle to get out, shaking because of the freezing temperatures. The brothers look at each other.

“I thought you didn’t use that much?”

“I didn’t!”

“I can still smell it on her! Now we have to wait even longer!” They argue back and forth. “Okay, we’ll be back in about an hour. Let’s hope it wears off by then.” He says as they both leave, locking the door behind them.

I feel tears start to pool in my eyes, and as they fall down my face they freeze on my cold skin. Trying to think of what Az would do in this situation, I realize he was in this situation. Granted he was a boy, but still, he’s been tortured by these same people and couldn’t escape. So why should I even bother trying. I’m still thinking of a plan as I feel my eyes grow heavy and my heart beat unnaturally slow. Then everything goes black, again.

— —

Azriel’s POV

Finally finished with my mission, I make a mental note to beat the shit out of Rhys. ‘It’s a simple mission, shouldn’t take too long’ he said to me, what a lie that was. What should have only been 3 to 4 days turned into 2 weeks. Flying back home from Autumn I only want one thing, my mate. She’s all I could think about while I was gone.

I reach the front steps of our house and open up my end of our bond. Normally, she would feel me and come running down to meet me outside. Maybe she’s asleep.

I unlock the door and my shadows go searching the house. They come flying back informing me that she’s not here.

Deciding that she must be out with Feyre, I head over to the House of Wind to debrief with Rhys and Cassian. Walking in I see Feyre, Nesta and Mor playing with Nyx on the floor in the living room. “Hey Az! You’re back!” Feyre jumps up to greet me. “Where’s y/n?” She asks.

“I thought she was with you?” I replied. “I was just at our house and she wasn’t there. I figured she’d be here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Az, but I haven’t seen her since last week.” Mor says standing up.

“Last week? Have any of you seen her since then?” I ask the room. Just then Rhys and Cassian come walking in.

“Hey brother, welcome back. Wanna head to the office to debrief with us?”

“Have you guys seen y/n recently?” Feyre asks her mate.

“No. I haven’t seen her in a while actually. Why? Is everything okay?”

“She wasn’t at our house just now and I came here because this is where I thought she would be. I opened up my end of the bond again but hers is still closed.” I say, now pacing the room.

“Az, I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s just out shopping or something. Why don’t we come to the office, I’m sure she’ll turn up before we’re done.” Rhys stops my pacing with a hand on my shoulder. “Come on brother, let’s go discuss your mission.”

Deciding that he’s probably right and that she’s probably just shopping, I follow my brothers into Rhys’ office to debrief them on my mission.

— —

Reader’s POV

Once again I’m woken up by water thrown on my face. It stings when it gets into the cuts littering my body which have somehow multiplied since I was last awake. “Welcome back, darling.” One of the brothers says. “Hopefully your system is all clear of faebane, so we can begin our experiment.” The second brother comes up behind him holding the bucket and match book again. He stands in front of me with an evil grin on his face. “This may hurt a little.” He laughs and then pours the bucket of gasoline all over my hands. My heart rate picks up as he now holds up a match.

“Please. Please don’t do this. I’ll do anything.” I plead. They don’t even respond, they just light the match.

I’ve felt pain before in my life, but nothing has ever compared to this. I watch the match fall onto my hands in slow motion and the only thing I can do is scream. I try to put out the fire, but I’m fully strapped to a chair now and I can’t move anywhere. The pain is getting so unbearable, I feel my skin melting away. I hear the metal bars slam shut as the brothers move to the other side of the cage to watch. I’m crying out for mercy, for Azriel, for Rhys, for anybody.

“No one’s gonna help you honey!”

“Looks like your mating bond doesn’t do shit!”

They laugh as I scream louder and louder. Praying to anyone who will listen, wishing that this ends soon.

— —

Azriel’s POV

Sitting in Rhys’ office, I get a weird feeling in my chest. I try my best to ignore it, but a few moments later I feel an excruciating pain in my hands. Screaming out for it to stop, Rhys and Cassian both come rushing over.

“Az! Az! What is it? What’s wrong?” Rhys asks, standing over me.

“My- my hands!” I cry out. I lift up my hands to show them and see that there’s nothing on them, nothing causing the pain.

“What? What’s wrong with your hands??” Cassian tries to keep me from collapsing. I can’t respond because another wave of pain courses through me, this time in my chest. I feel y/n’s side of the mating bond open and I immediately fall down on the ground. The familiar pain in my hands tells me everything I need to know. Somehow, someway, someone is hurting my mate in the same way I was. And I know exactly who that someone is.

“Az, she’s reaching out to me! I don’t think she can hear me, but she’s talking to me.” Rhys says, leaning over beside me. “Can you tell where she is? All I can see is a cell, I- I can’t see anything else.”

The only thing I can do is nod my head in response as I shoot up and fly out the open window. Not caring if my brothers are following me, although I’m sure they are. My only thought is to get to my y/n, now.

— —

Reader’s POV

Just as the fire is about to die out, one of the brothers comes back in the room and dumps more gasoline on my hands, igniting the fire once again. He retreats back behind the bars as I scream my head off. Any hope of being saved has gone out the window. No one probably even knows I’m missing, let alone looking to find me. I’ve opened my end of our bond in hopes Az can feel me, but I can’t even tell if his side is open or not.

Just when I’m about to give into the urge to let go, I hear a blast against the wall of the cell. I struggle to see through my tears, but I can see 3 winged figures coming in from the hole in the wall. I feel a cooling presence creep up to my hands and extinguish the flame. When I can finally look up again, I see two of the new winged males taking away my captors and the third winged male comes over to me slowly.

“Please, help me.” I whisper to the mystery male. “I don’t wanna die.” He comes closer and unties the straps holding me down then lifts me into his arms. As he holds me I immediately know who it is. “Az? I-Is that you?”

“It’s me little dove, just hold on, okay? I’m gonna get you out of here, just don’t close your eyes. Keep looking at me, don’t stop looking at me.” He says while soothing my hair back. I didn’t even realize we started flying until I felt the wind against my burns. “Az, I-It hurts so bad.”

“I know, I know it does. You’re gonna be alright, love. You just gotta hold on a little while longer, okay? We’re almost there.” His voice sounds hoarse like he’s been screaming as well. He picks up speed and the gust of wind makes my hands burn even worse. It gets harder and harder to keep my eyes open.

“I love you, Azriel.” I say, as the world goes black.

— —

“She should be awake by now, something’s wrong.”

“Az, she’s fine, just give her some time. She’ll wake up soon”

I hear muffled voices say around me. Without even opening my eyes, I know where I am. Home. I can feel my hands are in bandages, so tight I can’t move them. I hear a door close and then somebody sits down next to me.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I-I’ll never be able to forgive myself. I promised to keep you safe and then this happens. I just want you to be okay, please just be okay.” Azriel whispers. I can tell he’s crying now and all I want to do is hold him. I realize that his end of the bond is now wide open, so I send a rush of the love I feel for him down. I hear him gasp. “Y/N? Y/N can you hear me?” He asks.

I struggle to open my eyes, but I finally do. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the lighting, and then I see him. My mate, looking like he hasn’t left my side since I’ve been here. “Hey.” I managed to say. He places my face between his hands and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you so fucking much.” He whispers. “I’m so, so, so sorry that this happened to you, my love. I will do everything I can to make it right.” He leans back and looks into my eyes.

“I love you so fucking much too. I’m sorry that I gave up-“

“No. Do not say you’re sorry. Never say you’re sorry. Never.” He cuts me off.

“How long was I out?” I change the subject, arguing right now doesn’t feel like the best idea.

“Five days. I’ve been here the whole time.” He says. I move over a little bit to make room for him to be on the bed next to me. “Sweetheart, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please. I just need you to hold me.” I plead.

He slowly leans over to lay down beside me. “You know I can’t say no when you look at me like that.” He laughs as he pulls me into his arms. I bring my bandaged hands between us so I can snuggle into his chest more. He gently grabs one and places a kiss on my bandaged knuckles.

I bury my head into his neck and he places his chin on the crown of my head. “Madja says that she may be able to remove some of the scars with a tonic.” I take a second to think.

“Do you want me to try it? I know how you feel about your hands, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

“Look at me.” He pulls back and lifts my chin up so our eyes meet. “You could never make me uncomfortable. I will always be here for you, for as long as you want me around.” He gently presses his lips to mine in a loving and tender kiss. After we pull away, I sink back down into his chest and fall asleep. I’m finally right where I belong.

— —

I walk into Madja’s clinic with Az right behind me. It’s been about 3 days since I woke up and I’m tired of these bandages.

“Hello!” Madja greets us. “Okay, let’s take a look at those hands.”

Az helps me hop up onto the counter and then stands next to me. He places a hand on my knee and comfortingly smooths my skin with his thumb. As she cuts away the wrapping, Azriel freezes. I look over at him to avoid seeing my hands. When all the bandages are off, his eyes start welling with tears.

“Well my dear, it looks a little worse than I would have hoped. It should be mostly healed by now.” Madja examines my hands.

My eyes widen at her words and I slowly look down. I can barely even recognize my own hands. The skin has been completely melted off and has been taken down to the muscle. Pus and blood are oozing out and even my fingerprints are gone. Gasping, I look back up to Azriel and find him already looking at me.

“Is there anything you can do?” He asks Madja. She gives a sigh and rummages around in the cabinets behind her. I didn’t even realize I was crying until Az wiped my tears away. He places a kiss into my hair and wraps an arm around my waist.

Madja returns with a glass bottle in her hand. “The only thing I can think of is this.” She says holding up the bottle. “It’s a little strong so it will be painful to apply, but it will help it heal faster.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and look up to Az. “Whatever you wanna do, little dove. Whatever you wanna do.” He says rubbing circles on my back.

I sigh heavily and nod to Madja. She gives me a sympathetic smile back and gently grabs my wrist to pull it closer to her. I squeeze my eyes shut as I anticipate the pain. The first drop onto my hands causes me to flinch away and scream.

“Y/N, I need you to stay still for me to be able to do this. Azriel you might have to hold her down.” Madja looks up at him. He places a kiss on my forehead and reaches over to grasp my wrists.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cries. I bite down on my scream when she pours the liquid again. I put my head down on Az’s arm that stretched in front of me.

“Make it stop! Please stop! I-I can’t take it anymore!” I cry out.

“I know, I’m so sorry. She’s almost done. You can do this.”

After what feels like a lifetime, Madja finishes and wraps my hands back up. When she leaves, Az pulls me into a hug.

“Thank you, Az. I-I don’t know what I would do without you.” I move to kiss his cheek, but he backs up.

“This happened to you because of me. You’re in pain because of me!”

“Hey, don’t say that. That’s not true-“

“It is y/n. It is true. This only happened because of us, because of who you are to me.” He yells.

“Azriel. Come over here.” He slowly walks to stand between my knees. I put my arms around his waist and he does the same. “I love you. This is not your fault. It’s not my fault, it’s not Rhys’ fault. Your step brothers are at fault. This happened because of them, because of their sick and twisted minds. Don’t you ever blame yourself for this. Ever.”

He sighs and kisses my head. After a while of silently embracing each other, I ask the question that’s been on my mind since I woke up. “What happened to them?” I feel him stiffen around me.

“They’re still alive, for now. Rhys and Cas put them in my chamber in Hewn City. I wanted to wait to see what you wanted me to do.” He starts to smooth a comforting hand up and down my back. I place a kiss onto his collarbone in thanks and pull back to see his face.

“Well, I told them that you would ‘torture them for years before you kill them’ so… make them suffer… for as long as possible.”

He smirks down at me and places his lips on mine.

“That’s my mate.”

[boldlyanxious]

A Simple Deception

masterlist

“I’m really sorry for you Jon. I know you have gotten close over the last few months,” Damian spoke into his phone.

“No, I really mean it,” he continued after a pause. “I know I’m not the most expressive person to talk to but it is clear that she means a lot to you. I wish her visa had worked out.”

Damian made a few more non-committal noises as his friend went on and on about his newer friend who would be moving away soon.

“I wish I had gotten a chance to meet her. Maybe sometime later in the future. I’ll take you to Paris for your birthday or something.”

“See you for New Year’s then. Merry Christmas to you and the rest of the Kents. I believe my gift should have arrived.”

He put his phone back on the desk and went looking for his family. Unlike Jon’s family, Christmas morning did not start promptly at 8am. With their evening activities, they all preferred to start a little later. Coffee and brunch would start at 10 am and the scavenger hunt for gifts would begin promptly at 11. The first one back after completing all the challenges would win Christmas.

It wasn’t the most traditional of Christmases, but it worked for them. And Damian was determined to win this year.

---

“Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker phone. I still have to be out of this apartment,” Marinette said. She moved her phone from her ear and put it on the mantle before shoving a pile of boxes.

She zipped back and forth as she continued talking at her phone.

“I just got the call that it was approved. Apparently, it went through last week but because of a mix up with the paperwork I didn’t get the call until they were closing today.”

“I can’t believe you still have to move,” the voice said from the phone.

“The cut off to stay here was a couple weeks ago.” Marinette stopped and looked at her phone with an uncertain look that even though the person on the other end couldn’t see her, would be able to hear the uncertainty in her voice. “But I had a friend tell me that if everything else failed, he would have a place for me in his apartment. He said it would just be a relief to have me in the same country.”

“I heard the same thing,” the voice laughed. “I have the space, and I already messaged a friend to borrow a truck to help.”

“You are a lifesaver; you know that?”

“I do, but I like to hear you say it.”

“Not to just call for huge favors, but I have to let you go now. I still have a ton of things to do. I haven’t even called my parents yet.”

“You told me before your parents? That’s cold.”

“Well, I sent a message saying I had an update so if they have been on, they can guess. But proper calls are hard while the bakery is open. They will call while they are closing, once they get the loud ovens off.”

“Best of luck. I know they were excited to have you back even though they wanted things to work out for you.”

“They were. But I did visit during the process, and they should be able to make another trip one day soon.”

—

The triumph of Christmas had not even lasted the week until New Year’s. His father had them gathered together to talk about their behavior for the New Year’s gala. It appeared to be a fabulous fancy dinner with all the Waynes and associated persons present, but his father was droning on about the behaviors that had been noticed at the last party. It had been a season full of parties where they were all expected to be dressed impeccably and a minimum not be caught causing disturbances and definitely not be written about in the press. Something that had been sorely lacking from the last Wayne hosted event.

Dick had been considered to be too drunk although it was more likely he just had had enough of the perfumed, elderly ladies pinching the wrong cheeks to tell him how handsome he looked all grown up. Stephanie, while not technically family, was not inconspicuous enough when doing impressions of Lex Luthor. Damian believes that she actually wanted Luther to see her. Tim and Jason both had a game of being confused any time someone spoke to them rather than greeting them as if they knew them. They had offended several long-time business associates and acquaintances of the Wayne Family.

Damian still believed that he had done nothing wrong. He was the picture of politeness and had greeted every person of note and some others. He remembered all the names, the grandkids and pets to ask about. He had not talked business once and he retrieved drinks when people were low. Apparently, his grave error was in not asking a single young lady to dance during the evening. He had the required skills, and he was not in any way unable to perform the motions at the time so he should have. It didn’t matter that he simply did not wish to dance with them.

“It is expected of you Damian,” his father said.

“There were plenty of other people dancing, including Dick and Tim. I think even Jason danced,” Damian complained.

“That makes it even more noticeable that you were not dancing. All of your brothers danced, and I danced. You should dance too.”

“I was busy making the rounds to all of the people who needed greeted.”

“I expect better time management next time then. I also made greetings for everyone and found the time. You will find the time for at least three to five dances–”

“That’s too many,” Damian cut in.

“Three to five dances and you will choose one of the suitable young ladies to kiss at midnight.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to kiss any of them.”

“You will and that is final.”

“But” Damian’s mind raced before he blurted out “I have a girlfriend.”

The stunned eyes of the entire table and the waiter turned to him.

“You have a girlfriend Dami?” Dick squealed.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Jason laughed. “He is just trying to get out of kissing some social climber at the gala.”

“Well,” Bruce said, “you certainly can’t kiss someone else if you have a girlfriend. You will bring her and kiss her at midnight. What is her name for the invitation?”

“Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Damian said, “But she will be out of the country by then.”

—

“You got settled, I see,” Jon said laughing at Marinette in the kitchen.

“You have been to my place many times. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

“That I did. And I’m delighted to have you, but I’m going to help you clean up. Damian is coming over and I didn’t mention you were living here yet. I don’t want to overwhelm him. He wanted to talk about something, and it sounded serious,” Jon said.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll clean really fast and get out of your hair,” Marinette said.

“Nonsense. I meant it when I said it was your place too. You haven’t met Damian yet, and you should. You will love him,” Jon paused, choosing his words carefully. “I just don’t want it to feel too chaotic when it sounds like he is already having a tough time.”

“Right. You get the dishwasher going while I get the counters cleared. Then, I’ll wash the remainder and leave the floors to you.”

“Perfect. That should get you a chance to get out of your mismatched jammies.”

“Do not impugn my mismatched jammies. They are very comfy, but possibly too chaotic for meeting new friends.”

“Right you are.”

—

“You really don’t have to come up with me. I’m just getting the keys to the truck I let Jon borrow,” Damian said, climbing the stairs to Jon’s apartment.

“You have a girlfriend who is about to leave the country. I want to meet her while I have the chance. I’m sure you will want to stay and see her for a bit anyway. I remember what it was like to be young and in love,” Bruce responded.

“If it is anything like you are now with Ms Kyle, do not ever think I will behave like that.”

“To be in love is to be part fool and let yourself be open to another person. Perhaps you and Marinette just need more time.”

“You are already aware that the time is limited, yet you insist on encroaching upon it.”

Damian let out a long-suffering sigh before he knocked firmly on the door.

“Damian, you made it,” Jon said, quickly turning his attempted hug into a handshake. “Uh, Mr Wayne, how nice to see you again. I didn’t realize you were coming.”

“I’ve told you so many times to call me Bruce,” Bruce said with a warm smile.

“Right, I’ll get the keys. Thank you so much for letting me borrow your truck. My grandparents were supposed to help but they got held up in Kansas,” Jon said, shifting on his feet.

Bruce pushed past the keys Jon held out and looked around the apartment. “Tell your grandparents I said ‘hello’. I do hope to see them when they make it to town.”

Damian took the keys and grabbed his father’s arm, “We should go. Jon is clearly busy.”

Bruce looked around and raised an eyebrow at Damian. Jon said nothing until Bruce stepped into the kitchen and looked down at a tray of goodies.

“Can I offer you something to eat? Marinette was baking earlier. I’m sure she is willing to share,” Jon was relieved to have something to do with his hands. “Oh, Marinette is a friend of mine. She is from France and staying here.”

“Damian mentioned that. I was hoping to meet her,” Bruce’s eyes lit up at the mention of his reason for coming. “It’s a shame about her visa expiring though.”

“Actually, it was approved,” a dark-haired woman said as she walked into the room. “I found out too late to keep my apartment. That is why Jon let me move in.”

“That’s wonderful!” Bruce exclaimed, reaching for her hand. “I’m Bruce Wayne, Damian’s father. You must be–”

Damian cut it, hoping to stop his father from saying something he didn’t want anyone to hear. “Father, might I present Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“You may. Damian was so disappointed his girlfriend had to go back to France. Congratulations on your visa approval. You must come to my New Year’s Eve gala. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“So nice to meet you, Mr Wayne.”

Marinette was shaking his hand but then he suddenly pulled her into a hug. Her eyes were huge and confused looking over his shoulder at Jon and Damian. Damian was trying not to make eye contact, but Jon was looking at him and laughing.

“You must call me Bruce,” he said, patting her back.

“Bruce,” she repeated.

—

“I’ll take the truck back. Don’t be back too late,” Bruce paused with a smirk, “or do. I guess you will be celebrating.”

“I will see you at the usual time,” Damian said stiffly.

He turned back slowly to face Jon, who was clearly trying not to laugh and Marinette. He had just met her, but he had the distinct impression that was not her happy face.

“What just happened?” Marinette asked, hand on her hip.

“My father invited you to the annual Wayne New Year’s Eve Gala,” Damian said.

“As your girlfriend? That is the part someone would typically ask first.”

“Why did no one tell me the visa was approved? You were supposed to be going back to France.”

Damian looked accusingly at Jon who shrugged.

“I didn't think you would go get engaged because I was waiting to tell you until I saw you. I honestly thought you were bored of me talking about it.”

“I was bored, but it was too convenient to tell my father I couldn’t hook up with whichever socialite is most convenient for his business.”

“We are not engaged or hooking up.” Marinette said emphatically. “We aren’t even dating, and you will make this right. I did not sign up for a randomly assigned billionaire boyfriend.”

“Trust me, I have no interest in dating you,” Damian said firmly. He paused before adding, “But since you already told my father you would attend the gala, would you be willing to go as a favor to me.”

“I do not owe you any favors,” Marinette said.

“Please,” Damian said. “I would owe you one. Jon will be there too.”

“I go every year. It is the best one of the year. Also, least likely to be attacked by rogues and I know you have a dress you designed that you would love to show off.”

“I don’t want to go around lying to people. It isn’t fun for me, and I’m not interested in profiting off deception.”

Damian held up his hand to get them all to stop.

“Jon, would you leave us for a moment.”

Jon looked like he wanted to argue but Damian waited until he relaxed and then walked out of the room. Damian gestured at the chairs in the living room.

“Please allow me to talk for a moment. Once I have explained myself, I will ask you to go with me and then accept whatever response you give.”

Marinette studied him for a moment and then nodded.

“First of all, allow me to congratulate you on your visa. I know from Jon that it was very nerve wracking to not know where you would be by the end of the week. Even though I blamed you for not leaving, I am happy for you.” Damian took a breath and continued. “I am not typically a rash or unfeeling person. I may show a lack of concern for things that don’t affect me, but I don’t like to be cruel or use others carelessly. That being said, when my father told me that he wanted me to essentially woo the young ladies at the gala, I provided the easiest excuse that would be accepted at the time without planning to produce an actual girlfriend. Jon has spoken of you many times so your name came easily to me as someone who my family would not know, and you were so conveniently not going to be in town at the time of the gala that I would be off the hook from my father’s expectations.”

Damian stood up and circled the room a couple times before turning back to her.

“My father’s expectations make me uncomfortable, but his reasoning is sound. I made choices in my behavior at the last event we hosted that did not meet what was expected of me. Now, I am expected to show attention to the ladies in attendance by dancing and being a proper gentleman in polite society. If you refuse to go with me, I will tell my father when I see him about my deception. I will then behave as I must at the event. If you agree to attend with me, you will benefit from being seen and talking about your design work. That is not disingenuous of you. It is how high society works. Everyone there is trying to advance themselves while also showing off for each other. That would be a good thing for you, and I would also owe you a favor. I could do as much as buying you a fabric store easily, if that is what you wished. After the evening is over, I will come clean to my father, and we will not be romantically linked. You will have just been my date for the evening.”

“Wow. I didn’t expect all that.”

It was Marinette’s turn to stand up and pace around the space. Her hands were tightly clasped in each other, the skin turning white where she squeezed.

“I–” She took a deep breath. “I accept. You really don’t need to owe me anything. I understand why you did what you did. It was a series of unexpected events that collided. Besides, I want to be friends. I’m sure we will see each other from time to time.”

—

It wasn’t nearly as bad as she expected.

It nearly felt like she was in a period piece. Everyone was all dressed up and speaking formally. It was definitely the best collective posture she had seen anywhere during her time in the states and possibly ever. Damian escorted her around on his arm and smiled at all the people he greeted by name and introduced her as his date.

His family was different. They all seemed like they were laughing at some joke, but it didn’t seem like it was at her. They did all seem interested in why she started dating Damian. She supposed that was just how siblings were. She ended up dancing with all of his siblings, Jon and then his father. As well as several dances with Damian and a couple of the other men in attendance.

It was nothing like the fake dates seen in pop culture. Everyone just accepted her as Damian’s date, and she didn’t have to justify it. She made the appropriate responses to her current dance partner. Archibald was handsome and a great dancer; she made sure not to tell him that she didn’t realize real people still had that name. He had been very polite.

Damian was approaching her, but he did not look happy. She glanced around to see if anyone was watching her. She didn’t think she had made any faux pas that would reflect poorly on him, and no one had even suggested that she was only here as a ruse. She had no clue why he suddenly looked so serious.

The crowd was getting louder. Everyone was leaving the dance floor and waiters were efficiently passing out champagne. The glasses were clinking together and people chattering noisily and pairing off.

Damian took her by the arm and pulled her along with him. She stumbled slightly but his arm was there to hold her upright. He took two flutes of champagne and held them in one hand as he took hers in the other and pulled her along to a balcony. All the other guests were moving down outside and once they got out there, she could see a couple other balconies with guests on them. But they were the only ones on this balcony.

“There is a slight possibility that we will be expected to kiss at midnight,” Damian said.

Marinette was so stunned she didn’t register the voices of the crowd start counting down from ten.

“By slight possibility I mean my father just told me that he still expects to see me celebrating at midnight and it should be easy since you are my girlfriend.”

Damian pushed her hair back from her face and cupped her cheek.

“I really hoped he just wouldn’t notice.”

He tilted her face up and looked into her eyes. He didn’t move forward, but his eyes held the question in them.

Marinette pushed forward until she was kissing him.

It was just supposed to be a quick kiss, but she gasped at the spark she felt kissing him. She didn’t pull back, instead her arm went around his neck as she felt his fingers dig into her hair. He pressed closer and held on to her. The fireworks were going off all around, but they didn’t notice anything but each other. They pulled away slowly, breathing a bit more quickly.

Neither seemed to know what to say for a moment.

Marinette picked up a glass of champagne and clinked it against Damian’s glass before taking a sip.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered, before leaning in to kiss him again.

[sparks-olivarpente]

the Stranger Fics

(byler fics with unexpected powers or twists)

Turns out a lot of my favorite fics enter this category. Feel free to reblog and add fics you love :)

In the Eye of a Hurricane (It's You and Me) by Julia_Skysong "Jonathan, why…why am I with dad on the security tape????" Lonnie Byers is a royal piece of shit. Will finds out he has powers and understandably has a meltdown about it, and Mike helps him through it.

over a bridge of time by @sevensided Hawkins isn't the same without Will. So Mike goes to visit him in Chicago. Then strange things happen… Second part of the awesome serie THE DARK MIRROR and of course you should read the whole thing :)

I know the end by @cosmobrain00 The worst-case scenario has happened. … and that's all the summary you'll get from me! an ongoing serie that keeps getting better and better (or worse and worse, depending on the point of view). Tags: #Mind Manipulation #Will has powers

them’s the breaks by emelinelou Three years after moving to California, one Will Byers shows up - read: dimension-teleports or something - back in Hawkins. In the corner of Mike's bedroom. In the middle of the night. Turns out this is a bad thing, namely for Mike and Mike's sanity.

captured ghosts by etchedstars ghosts from will's past come back to haunt this. literally or metaphorically is up to audience interpretation. Some favorite tags: #plot relevant cuddles #will gets to be sarcastic #he also commits crime

Come Hell, High Water by naiesu “It’s been months, Mike,” Lucas says, staring at Mike, hard. Mike can’t remember a time he didn’t look at him that way. “Will is a cold case. You need to accept that.” The dream-like parts are amazingly written &lt;3

yesterFriday by nbfutureboy (@futureboy-ao3) Will Byers wakes up as usual one Friday morning - he worries about his family, his History test, and telling the people he loves that he doesn’t Like Girls in that way. Then he does it again. [Groundhog Day AU where Will gets stuck in a time loop.]

a strange education (reach out and touch me) by Total_Serene (@total-serene560) 16 year old Mike Wheeler wakes up in the middle of a highway in Indiana. He can't remember what happened, but he knows three things: He was going somewhere, it was supposed to be night, and he had taken Nancy's car. The mystery in this one…!!!

The Basement by olliecoddle (@souverian-are-we) Will and Mike spend their days in a little run-down house in the Upper Peninsula with dated furniture and peeling wallpaper, two sinking recliners next to each other. But there is a beast in the basement.

A Stranger Things Ghost Story by Junigatsu84 It is the Summer of 1983, before all the horrors that befall Hawkins. The boys are looking for their own mystery to solve and find a haunted house. It’s a shame Will is the only one to see it.

Back to the Future (with Mike Wheeler) by Nymphadoragreenleaf On a list of the top five most unexpected things to happen to Mike Wheeler, traveling 10 years into the future has got to take the top spot. The half-naked man claiming to be his best friend might be number two. Alternatively known as, Mike Wheeler tries to survive a week in the 90's and figures a couple of things out along the way.

You are the Heart by TouchTheSky A fever-dream, mucho-feels, super long, semi-fix-it, version of Season 5. i feel like i know you (but we never met) by @andiwriteordie “Who?” Mike’s voice breaks again, and Joyce chokes back a sob. “Joyce, who… who was he?” Or: The one in which Will Byers doesn't exist… At least not anymore.

with all my heart by mogiah (@morganee) what happens when Birthdaygate and Lettergate meet. or another one in which Will doesn't exist anymore

i've come home, i'm so cold by astrobi (@astrobei) Will's trying his hardest to make it through fall semester in one piece. Unfortunately for his degree, he's being haunted by maybe-feelings for his best friend (metaphorically), and also a maybe-ghost with rather abysmal fashion sense (literally). The fic that made me decide to spend the rest of my life that year reading fics

Blackout by Tea_For_One_Please as if their senior year of high school wasn't complicated enough, the Party find themselves investigating an accidental death, believing it to be connected to a similar event nearly two decades earlier. Just normal teenager stuff, right? This one hasn't been updated for a while but I remember enjoying the plot and mystery a lot

baby, we’re perfect by bookinit (@bookinit02) Senior year in Hawkins. Will and Mike figure some things out. I'm not allowed to say anything else about this fic. To quote the author: "brace yourselves. sorry in advance."

you were bigger than the whole sky by delusionaltogether (@parkitaco) Mike breathes out sharply, sinking to his knees in front of Will without conscious thought. Every bone in his body is turning to jelly, because Will is here, but he's also- not. on march 29th, 1986, will byers vanishes for a second time. 366 days later, he reappears.

This is where it starts by cottonscent While the rest of the party moved on and forgot once the gate closed Will kept exploring, and the connection he formed to the other dimension it actually a lot more complex than what they originally thought.

[rkay07]

The One Who Speaks

C!Technobladex Fem!Reader

(You and Techno used to be best friends until he developed a crush on you now suddenly 10 years have passed and all you want is a glimpse of him)

Warnings - A/N: Physical Touch, Make-out session but nothing too heated.

FLUFF!

Word Count: 2.5k

Traveling to Philza’s place for your monthly visit was a nice time to reflect, maybe to do something different, maybe don’t travel through the ocean with nothing but your backpack until you come across a shipwreck to make a boat. Yeah, reflecting. Visiting Philza gave you a sense of peace, hearing his stories, seeing he’s doing alright after everything, seeing it’s possible to move on from things you thought would be forever. He gives you hope that one day you might move on from your own problems, like being alone 24/7, traveling to pass the time, and having this stupid “crush” on Technoblade. When you were pre-teens he all of a sudden stopped paying attention to you and all you could do was accept it, you left him in the dust on your horse, sent away to live with your aunt that was hundreds of miles away. You only started visiting Phil when you heard about the town being blown up, you wanted to make sure he was ok. He was like family to you, so one year ago you decided to make the trip to see him and now you go once a month to catch up. When you first went the first thing you asked him was, “Is Techno ok?” He smiled and shook his head softly, “Y/n, you know him…” he walked to the table you were sitting at with two mugs of tea in his hands, “Technoblade never dies.” You smiled with him, “I don’t know him now but yes. He never dies.” He pressed his lips together at your comment, putting one of the mugs in front of you. You thanked him, and picked it up to warm your hands, “Where is he, if you don’t mind me asking?” Phil looked at you with pity written all over his face, “I don’t mind and remember that, but darling I’m going to be honest with you.” He sighed looking down at his mug, “I haven’t seen him in weeks, he rarely speaks to me anymore…” Your eyes widened, you felt a rush of coldness washed over you. You became cold to the touch even with the hot cup in your hands, “I take that back actually,” You looked up from the mug, ready to take anything he had of Techno, “He checks on me from time to time, sometimes even spends the night but he walks around like I’m not there.” Your eyes soften at his words, sorry for what’s happened between them. You looked at his free hand, taking it into yours and squeezing it, “I’m sure he has his reasons.” He nods, flashing a quick smile. You were worried but you “knew” Techno and he would never neglect someone or something unless he had a reason to but you still questioned it when it came between you and him.

You were still miles away from Philza’s house, and wondering if you might have taken a wrong turn somewhere. You slow your horse down and take a look at your map, glancing in all directions trying to see anything familiar, then you see a landmark that’s on the map. You exhale, the anxiety dissipating as you put the map back into your bag. You snap the reins to walk again when you see a shadow on the ground, a shadow that could only be made if it was in the air. You have your horse come to a complete stop, sliding off and looking at the shadow then up into the sky. A bird was flying high in the sky, making circles around you. You whistle, bringing it down to you. The bird lands and you notice it was a crow! All you could think were negative thoughts, hoping to God that Phil was okay. You pull some seeds out of your side bag, pouring some on the ground for the crow. The crow hops over and sets a scroll down before pecking at the pile of seeds. You pick the scroll up, standing to look at it better.

My dearest Y/n, you’re probably worried that something’s happened to me but I couldn’t be better, I just wanted to give you a heads up that I’ll be having company over while you're on your way. I don’t know how far you are but I hope you aren’t too far. I would like you to see them before they have to go, Love Phil.

You smile down at the lovely note, thinking that Tommy might have been there but you have talked to him before at Phil’s house so who could it be. You ponder on it for quite a moment before your eyes widen and your jaw drops.

It could be Techno, you thought.

You roll the scroll back up and put it in your bag, seeing the wonderful crow ate all the seeds up, you chuckle and decide to give him more just out of likeness of the note. You get up on your horse, snapping the reins one last time before setting off to Phil’s house, which wasn’t more than a few miles away.

You see Phil’s house appear in the distance, grinning and kicking at your horse to go faster for this last stretch. All you could think about was possibly seeing Techno, finally locking eyes with him after all these years. You slow your horse down as you approach his house, hopping off before he even comes to a complete stop. You shake dust out of your hair and pat yourself down before knocking on the door. You knock on the door and wait for someone to open it for you. You turn around to your horse that’s neighing at you from behind, you try your best to shush him but he decides to be stubborn after a long and hard ride. You wave him off as the door clicks, you whip your head around to meet Tommy, “Tommy!” You yell, “Ay!” Tommy yells back pointing finger guns at you. You smile at him, raising your arms up to hug him. Laughing as he picks you up and spins you around in the house. Closing the door as he sets you down, “Come on, I want you to see someone.” He says, too fast for you to understand but grabs your hand just as quickly as he spoke pulling you towards the kitchen. Light-headed from the laughing and spinning you stumble behind him, trying to not fall to the ground. He slows down, walking into the kitchen. You keep your hand in his, waiting to see the one and only Techno but when you round the corner you’re met with a transparent figure, almost shiny with the sun beaming through it. You narrow your eyes as it turns around, “Guess you weren’t expecting me?” It says, you’re left speechless, mostly trying not to cry. It was Wilbur. Phil told you about the war, when Wil told him to kill him. Holding back tears, you cover your mouth, “Wil?” You knew it was him but you had to make sure. He nods, making you whimper. You walk up to him knowing you would go right through but you wanted to be close. You breathe out as you look at his face, so dark and light. You raise your hands, roaming the air where his face would be but all you could feel was freezing air. He brings his hands to your wrists, marking them with cold rings. You chuckle softly as tears fall from your face, trying to smile but wince at the every-longing want of his hands in yours. He was such a big inspiration of yours but when you heard he had turned evil it was hard to think of him highly. But then, you heard of his death and it shattered you. When you were little, he was always there for you, especially when Techno started to grow distinct, he was there. You missed him so much but now seeing him, his presence, you finally had closure.

You take a deep breath in and let it out, keeping your eyes on him as you step away. Walking backwards to Tommy, you look at Wilbur one last time as he waves at you. You give him a small wave back before he dissipates into thin air. You turn around to bury your face into Tommy's chest, he hugs you back with watery eyes. You could hear him sniffling, you chuckle, “It’s ok Tommy, he’s in a better place now.” He rubs his eyes and scoffs, “What do you mean, I know that, why wouldn’t I know that. I mean look at me.” You remove your face from his chest, as you look up at him, “I know you needed that as much as I did.” He scoffs again, “No I didn’t, I was perfectly fine without him.” You laugh, making him laugh too, as he shakily breathes in and out, “Oh, how I missed him.” You wipe tears off your face, “Me too Tommy, me too.”

You and Tommy were sitting at the kitchen table laughing when the both of you hear the side door open and loud boots fill the house as they stomp off whatever was on them. You look at Tommy with confusion but all he does is smile, making you even more confused. A loud nauseated voice booms through the hallway, “Hey Phil there’s a random horse eating snow in the front, it has a bunch of stuff on it too-” The giant stops in his tract, this time very real. When he sees you, he pulls his mask down from his face, “Y/n?” You stand up, your eyes not believing it, your mind not believing it, but your heart does. Your heart believes it’s really him, it’s really Technoblade. You clear your throat, not sure what to say, “Uh- hey-” You were always speechless around him, never knowing what to say, how to say it. He takes a step closer as he pulls his gloves off, “Uh…” He couldn’t speak either, his eyes were roaming your body, he wanted them to do all the talking. You and Techno stand there in place just looking at each other for a good moment.

Tommy stands up, making sure to make as much noise as possible, “Hey big guy, how was work-” Techno leans down to Tommy ear’s, “Get out.” Tommy mouths ok and walks off to the front door, saluting at you. You watched him as he walked and saluted back at him. You put your gaze back on Techno noticing he was a little closer than before. You don’t think you can hold it in anymore but with it being 10 years, you didn’t know if he felt the same way. You watch him as he stops just a couple feet away from you, your breathing becomes heavy, heat rushes to your cheeks. You open your mouth to speak but nothing except a chuckle comes out, he watches you look at the ground and to the side looking out the window. Every inch of you is on his mind, he takes his hand and brings it to your chin to draw your attention back to him. You look at him with doe eyes, thinking about all the times he looked at you with those same charming eyes. You pull away though not wanting to get too close, not wanting to feel the same urge you felt when you were just a kid. You look away towards the window for a second but he pulls you back, now arm around your waist and hand on your chin, keeping your eyes on him.

You find it hard to not look at him with your faces only inches apart, his long pink hair falling over his shoulder and into his face. You cave in finally, your eyes traveling his face for it has been too long since you’ve seen him, “Techno…” You breathe out, his breathing becoming just as heavy as yours. You find the back of his neck with one hand and the back of his shoulder with the other. Gripping at his shirt, he looks down at your lips, “Why did I wait so long?” Your heart flutters at his words as they roll off his lips and onto your own. You mouth I don’t know, giving him a weak smile. His lips part as he moves his hand from your chin to your cheek, running it along once before diving into a deep kiss. You took a breath before his lips crashed down on yours, interlocking your fingers in his hair. He pushes you against the table a little rough, “Sorry.” he says in between a kiss. You couldn’t care less about being rammed into a table but you loved that he cared for you, “It’s ok.” You whisper, keeping the kiss going and placing your hands on the table to brace yourself. He slowly snakes his tongue into your mouth as he finds your hands and intertwines them with his. You whimper at the feeling of his tongue roaming your mouth, you grip his hands tight, making him moan. He continues to kiss you like it was the last time you were ever going to see each other, touch each other. But he wasn’t going to let that happen, he wasn’t going to pull himself away from you ever again. He wanted you more than ever before, finally having you in his arms.

You slowly start to pull away but Techno wants one more long kiss before accepting your movement, resting his head on your shoulder. He needed that break as much as you did, his breath raspy and deep on your neck. You wrap your arms around him, as he does the same. You look up to the ceiling with tears in your eyes, happy tears. Happy that you finally get to express your loving feelings to this hunk of stoicness. He glides his touch from your waist to the back of your legs, picking you up and putting you on the table with no effort. You gasp when he picks you up, looking deep into his eyes to find love and affection. He pulls you as close as possible, making you wrap your arms and legs around him. You rest your forehead on his, smiling and giggling. He couldn’t help but do the same. Your smiles always gave him warmth, from his ear tips to his toes. He always liked that about you and it has never changed, even after all these years his memory of you has never faded. He leans back so he can see you better, scanning for any new details.

He cups your cheeks and rubs his thumbs on your skin. He’s hot to the touch, making you want to melt in his arms. A single tear falls from your eye, he’s quick to gently wipe it away, kissing where the droplet was then kissing your forehead. He looks down at you, taking an impossible step towards you, “I’ve loved you for too long, to give up,” He pauses and glances at your lips, “I’ll make it my life’s mission to never let you go…again.” Your breath hitches, you couldn’t believe he was saying this to you, finally. You let out a breath with a big smile and your head vigorously nodding at his remark. He smiles back with a sigh of relief escaping from his lips. He picks you up and spins you around for a moment then plants you on your feet. Your arms still wrapped around his neck, you give him a couple of nice soft pecks on his chapped lips. You were forever happy to have him by your side now, even if he had to work. The both of you hear the side door open, “Techno! I need your help with the hay bales!” Philza’s voice rang through the house before you both heard the door close and footsteps went down the outside stairs. You look up at him and pout. His eyes narrow down the hall towards the side door, “He can wait.” Before you know it you're off up the stairs to the spare bedroom Techno sleeps in, making sure to lock the door behind him.

[emeritusemeritus]

Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 6.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used.

Just a whole load of Weasley family fluff for you all before the dirty Freddie stuff begins 🤍

The next week carried on much the same, with classes, quidditch games and time spent with your friends. After receiving a week long detention for whatever prank they'd decided to pull this week, you had hardly seen the twins apart from mealtimes when you were forced to hide the nature of your relationship from your friends.

Monday morning rolled around and instead of dressing in your robes and gathering your potion books, you were packing up the last remaining items into your little trunk, ready to spend the week's holiday at the Burrow. Hermione and Harry would also be joining the Weasley's again, though Hermione was only staying for a few days until she went home to her parents.

You'd initially all planned to go back Saturday morning but Molly had sent an owl to Ginny, letting you know that her and Arthur had to make an emergency visit to great-aunt Muriel and asked for you all to arrive Monday instead. Fred was livid, having planned his weekend in advance with you, though he'd not told you any details. You'd managed to talk him round and George had formidably offered for him to spend the day with you on whatever day he wanted, knowing that he had you last week. Fred had managed to calm down after that and had agreed to George's counter offer, though he was still a little tetchy about it.

A knock at the door made you pause your packing as you shouted out for the caller to enter. In walked Fred, closely followed by George, who both seemed too awake for this early in the morning.

"Your tea mi'lady," George smiles, bowing his head as he passes you a steaming cup of tea.

"Why thank you kind sir, your token is much appreciated," you joked back, grabbing the cup of tea from his hands and moving forward to place a kiss on his lips. He smiles down at you with a look of pure love and kisses your forehead as you place the tea on your bedside table to let it cool.

"A grateful blowjob would also be much appreciated," he chuckles, causing you to whack him in the arm. He laughs, as does Fred, and grumbles under his breath about it being 'worth a shot'.

"So why does he get all the kisses?" Fred whines like a child. You turn and laugh, seeing his bottom lip pushed out.

"He brought tea," you reasoned cheekily only for Fred to let out a dramatic gasp. You couldn't deny him any longer and moved towards him to give him a sweet kiss. His arms wrapped around you, refusing to let go as he planted more kisses over your face as you squealed.

"I have to pack!" You said, breaking free from him and moving towards your trunk whilst the boys threw themselves down on your bed, absently levitating a quill between them as they watched you pack.

"So are you looking forward to it?" George asks, watching you closely as you pack up your toiletry bag.

"Of course, watching the sunrise over the hills, your mum's cooking and your dad asking me 10,000 questions about aeroplanes- can't wait," you laughed, prompting them to chuckle too.

"Wish we could be open about everything though," George says, the conversation suddenly turning a little downward. Fred nodded his head agreeing with his brother and you silently agreed too, knowing how hard it would be to have to pretend again that you were all just friends in front of everyone.

"Let's just not think about it," Fred says, trying to divert the conversation, "see it this way mate," he says turning his attention to George, "if mum thinks we're just friends with y/n/n, we can get up to so much more. If she was a girlfriend she'd be locked away with Ginny and Hermione the whole time!"

He did have a point, you thought. George seemed to get onboard with this way of thinking pretty quickly and immediately went back to pestering you again.

"That reminds me, I'm having a sleepover with Ginny this week, whatever day we're not doing something," you said, trying to close up your trunk. You'd left a few things back in George and Fred's room at the Burrow so you didn't have to take everything back and forth with you, but there was some additional stuff you needed and cramming it into your small case was no easy feat.

The twins immediately began grumbling, mainly Fred, but you shot them a look which told them you wouldn't hear any nonsense on the matter, which did actually shut them up.

"Bloody hell, you could be a Weasley woman with that glare," George says chuckling to himself.

"Don't, last thing I want right now is to hear Bill's name come out of her mouth," Fred grumbles, absently scrunching up a piece of scrap parchment and throwing it across the room.

"Actually, I wasn't going to say anything about him," you said, trying to keep Fred from being in a bad mood, "I was going to ask which of you would make me a Weasley."

"Both," they instantly replied, smirking at you. Seeing Fred's smirk and George's dreamy smile, you smiled, feeling your heart warming at their words.

"So, train or Floo?" You asked, still struggling to close up the trunk and getting a little more frustrated than you should. Fred silently stood from the bed and rolled up his sleeves, pressing down on the case hard as he managed to get it closed, doing the stiff latches with little effort. The whole act shouldn't have been as hot as it was but for some reason you melted at the sight, feeling a tingle spread over your lower body at the sight of his veined forearms.

"Floo," Fred says, hopping back down onto the bed.

"Dad can't fit us all in the car and muggle taxis would be too expensive," George explains, sitting forward as you take a few sips of your tea. "Mcgonagall has a fireplace in the transfiguration office, Hermione managed to talk her round and she's letting us use it."

"Bloody hell, how did she manage that?" You asked, surprised that Mcgonagall would allow students to do that.

"We asked the same thing," George says with a laugh.

"Shame it's not Potion master's office, eh princess?" Fred smirks, never one to leave things alone.

"What are you babbling on about?" You ask with a frown, feeling a sudden shift in the conversation you were definitely not prepared for, especially so early in a morning.

"Just saying he seems a bit partial to you, don't get me wrong we can see why, but we've been here nearly seven years and he's never once given anyone house points that wasn't a slytherin," Fred says, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees and his hand was leaning on his palm, a smarmy grin on his lips.

"What do you mean you can see why?" You ask, turning a little too defensive at Fred's words, knowing that it was close to striking a nerve.

"Well, you're hot, angel," George explains with a shrug, a little less bluntly than his oaf of a twin.

"Oh yeah because I'm sure old Snapey is just dying to bend me over a cauldron first chance he gets," you snark, "nothing to do with the fact I'm actually good at potions."

"Woah princess," Fred says, raising his hands, "we never said that."

You huffed out a breath to recalibrate yourself and took a big swig of your tea.

"But he probably could do with getting laid," Fred adds absently with George agreeing with him.

"Right, well next week I'll be sure to tell him I'm available to give him the best fuck of his life," you grumble, placing your now empty mug onto your bedside table.

"Like hell you are," they both say in unison, so sharply and defensively it was comical. You huff out a laugh and shake your head, moving to sit on your roommates vacant bed, facing them.

"Just saying, I'd be careful brewing love potions around him again," Fred laughs, clearly not knowing when to leave it alone. "You never told us anyway, what did you smell?"

You immediately feel like you'd swallowed a giant rock, the weight of his words making the colour drain from your face. It had been almost exactly a week since your little incident with the love potion and you'd successfully managed to push it out of your mind until now. You hadn't told anyone about what had happened, after all how could you and least of all the twins that were involved. You didn't want to involve them in this mess anymore than they already were and so you'd maintained your silence and deflected any questioning on the matter.

"Snape's greasy hair," you muttered sarcastically, walking away towards the little wardrobe at the side, pulling out your raincoat and a big jumper, ironically one that you'd 'borrowed' from George a little while back.

"I've been looking for that!" He says, clocking the jumper in your hand as you walk back over to them and flash him an innocent smile.

"Looks better on me," you shrug with a laugh, not even remotely apologetic. You were just glad that the conversation had diverted enough and been forgotten.

"Fair point," George says, throwing himself back on the bed, clearly not too annoyed at your niffler like qualities.

Hermione and Ginny arrived in your room a little while later and were initially surprised to see Fred and George lounging on your bed but played it off well as you all left to meet Ron and Harry down in the common room. George reached for your small but heavy case and shot you a subtle wink as he carried it down the stairs for you. Even when he grabbed his own bag, he never gave you back your case, despite your protests, and carried it all the way to Mcgonagall's office for you.

Mcgonagall greeted you all as she opened up her office door and tapped on the bricks beside the fireplace in a specific order, muttering a password quietly and essentially unlocking the fireplace until the flames shone green. She ushered you all forward and held out a little pot of Floo powder for you all to take as you stepped into the fire.

Hermione stepped through first, then Ron, Harry and then Ginny. George, still holding your case, shot you a quick wink, whispering that he'd see you on the other side as he stepped through, leaving just you and Fred.

"Go on princess," Fred said loudly, ushering you forward. Realising his faux pas, you shot a quick glance at Mcgonagall who had clearly overheard and tried to look away but you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, making you blush.

You stepped into the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and spoke clearly as you made your destination known. You were immediately transported straight to the Burrow, the comforting sights and smells of the home hitting you as soon as you stepped out of the fireplace, dusting yourself off quickly so you didn't cause a mess before you stepped aside, knowing that Fred would be following closely behind.

"Y/n, dear, welcome home!" Molly said as she moves quickly to embrace you. You're immediately struck by her words, feeling as if you could tear up at the notion she considered this your home too.

"Hi Molly," you smile, holding her tightly, "thank you for having me again."

"Oh you're always welcome dear you know this," she says pulling apart and briefly holding onto your shoulders until her son appears behind you in the flames.

She immediately rushes to greet him, briefly yelling at him to dust himself off as he mindlessly walks out of the fire covered in floo powder and ash, walking it straight onto the rug. She pulls him into a hug and pulls him down playfully by the ears so that he'll bend his head and she places a kiss on his head.

"Right, lunch!" She says, suddenly rushing off into the kitchen as her little muggle egg-timer rings out. You laugh, realising it's the chicken shaped egg timer you'd bought her last Christmas, after a long discussion with Arthur about muggle kitchen appliances. Molly had been fascinated at the novelty and was overjoyed by the little gesture.

"She uses it all the time," George says, hearing your little chuckle, moving to stand behind you, placing his hand tenderly on the curve of your hip, hidden out of sight behind Fred's body next to you.

"Y/n!" Ginny says, calling you over. You smile, linking George's hand for just a second where it stays placed on your hip, squeezing once before walking over to where Ginny and Hermione sat on the sofa.

"Can we have a sleepover tonight?" Her little face is so excited that you couldn't say no, having missed spending time with the girls. You cast a glance at the twins who were watching eagerly, having heard Ginny's request. You could tell they were leas than pleased but you implored them with your eyes, silently asking if they had plans for tonight, especially Fred. Fred shook his head gently, understanding your gaze and you gave them a warm smile before turning back to Ginny.

"Of course," you beamed, excited for the prospect of a girly sleepover. Both girls let out a little squeal and did a happy jig on their place on the sofa and you had to laugh along with them.

"Gin, will you braid my hair like last time?" You asked, remembering how she had knitted your whole hair into tight braids that ran along your head last time and wanted to do it again. You'd tried replicating it yourself a couple of times but it was much harder to do to yourself and has been entirely unsuccessful. You briefly wondered how she'd come to learn how to do it, looking round at three of her older brothers with currently long hair, wondering if she'd practiced on them, chuckling briefly at the thought.

"Of course! Will you do my makeup? You're so good at it and I never get it right!" Ginny grins and you nod enthusiastically.

"Sure, I have most of my stuff with me."

"I've bought a little portable DVD player and some discs so we can watch some muggle films!" Hermione says proudly, gesturing to the, frankly huge, trunk she had brought with her. You were honestly looking forward to it, feeling as if you needed a girly night away from the boys.

"Everyone, lunch!" Molly shouts from the kitchen. Ron immediately bolts into the kitchen, nearly leaving tire marks on the rug as he flies away, closely followed by Fred and George who manage to grab you en route and pull you along with them, plonking you down into the seat between them at the large table.

"Afternoon Weasley's!" Arthur says cheerfully as he walks through the kitchen door, carrying his briefcase and his flat cap under his arm. His timing is almost comical, like a sitcom entrance, just in time for lunch. Upon seeing you, Harry and Hermione he smiles and adds, "and honorary Weasley's!"

He's met by a chorus of morning dad and morning mr Weasley as he takes off his coat by the door and takes a seat at the head of the dinner table.

"Off for the week now kids?" He asks, pulling out a napkin and tucking it into his shirt.

"Yes mr Weasley," Harry replies, reaching for a couple of small sandwiches Molly had laid out after Ron started enthusiastically tucking in.

"Wonderful, now how has school been?"

You smile as you watch Mr Weasley interact with his children and the two addition kids he had pseudo adopted a few years back, seeing how he bloomed and exuded joy being surrounded by his family. It made you happy to see him so exuberant and animated as he discussed this terms quidditch season, beaming with pride as George, Fred and Harry spoke of their achievements on the pitch.

Being honest with yourself, it made your heart pang with sadness thinking of your own, largely absent father and what you had missed out on over the years. You wished one day that you would have a family much like this with a happy home and kids that never doubted their parent's love for them.

George subtly nudged your arm with his elbow, breaking you out of your little trance. He briefly frowned at you in concern as he shot a look towards your empty place, noticing that you were the only one who had not began eating.

You immediately shot him a smile, telling him not to worry and reached for a delicious looking homemade sausage roll.

"So y/n, you're approaching your sixth year, have you had any thoughts on the subjects you'll be taking for your N.E.W.T.S?" Mr Weasley asks before taking a large bite of an egg mayonnaise and cress sandwich, smiling at you with his kind eyes.

"Yes Mr Weasley, I actually have a meeting with professor Mcgonagall next Tuesday to discuss options, though I know I'd like to continue potions," you explain, placing some of the previously untouched salad onto your plate.

You can feel George's eyes on you at the new information, not having told him that your conversation last weekend had prompted you to reach out to your head of house for a career guidance appointment, which she was happy to schedule in for you.

"Potions, tricky subject," Mr Weasley says, sucking a breath through his teeth as he leans forward, "am I right in thinking that you need an outstanding at OWLS for NEWT entry?"

"Yes sir," you replied politely, taking a bite of your salad.

"And you achieved that?" He asks with an air of surprise. You nod, about to reply when you're interrupted by two familiar voices.

"She's brilliant," both twins said at the same time, making you laugh at the awkwardness of it.

"She brewed a love potion perfectly and Snape awarded her 30 house points! It's put us in the lead again for the house cup!" Ginny says excitedly as she munches on some crisps, having slightly more decorum than her slightly older brother.

"Wow, fantastic!" Mr Weasley says excitedly, "well done y/n!" He raises his glass of pumpkin juice and toasts to you, promoting a wide, beaming smile to spread over your face as you giggle.

"Oh well done dear, how brilliant," Molly says, moving behind you and patting your shoulder proudly.

You felt Fred staring at you to your right and when you looked up at him he was smirking down at you and shot you a quick wink.

"How are things at the ministry Mr Weasley?" Hermione asks and Arthur immediately begins talking business, or at least the parts that he can disclose.

The meal passes quickly in a blur of food, laughter and chatter and despite your protests of asking to help Molly clean up, she ushers you upstairs with the twins, who waste no time in pulling you away.

"So what time are you going to Ginny?" George asks as he closes the bedroom door.

"After dinner," you shrug, flopping down onto the bed.

"Perfect," Fred smirks as he reaches under the bed to pull out their box of mischief, ready to prep some owl post orders and do some tinkering.

The afternoon passes quickly as you help the twins with their business until Molly calls you all down for dinner. It's a messy affair with a gigantic cottage pie served up as family and friends converse and laugh at the table.

After dinner, you decide to quickly shower before the nighttime rush, washing your hair so that it's wet for Ginny to braid it. As you walk out of the bathroom in your pyjamas and back down the stairs, you see the twins bedroom door is open just a little and you poke your head in, knocking quietly to alert them.

"Miss us already princess?" Fred smirks from his place on the bed, now shirtless and reading his quidditch annual. George's head snaps up and he gives you a sweet smile from his place at the desk, pausing filling out the little order forms and parchment for the deliveries to give you attention.

"Always," you smile as you walk over to your case in the corner of their room, pulling out your hairbrush and makeup bag.

"And just when you think she can't get hotter, she gets wet," George smiles cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Don't know mate, I reckon she's always wet around us," Fred smirks, causing George to chuckle.

"Rotten boys," you mumble though your smile breaks through. You can't deny that there's something about seeing them so at home and comfortable which makes them seem ever hotter, and they probably weren't far wrong.

"Goodnight boys," you tease, briefly shooting a look towards the door as you lean down to give George a kiss. You then walk over to the bed and kiss Fred.

"Sweet dreams angel," George says with a sweet smile.

"You know where we are if you want a cuddle in the night," Fred smiles, winking at you as you walk out of the door and towards Ginny's room.

"Y/n! Perfect timing, mum sent these up!" Ginny says excitedly as you walk through the door, looking at the plate of biscuits in her hand and smiling. You put down your makeup bag on the little desk in Ginny's room and walked over to her mirror to brush your hair as they both make a space for you on the floor where you'd all be sleeping.

Seeing a few of the different blankets that were laid out, a blush creeped onto your cheeks at the memory of last weekend, of the same blankets strewn around as you made love to George.

"Okay, breakfast club or sixteen candles?" Hermione asks as she flicks through the little dvd wallet she's borrowed from her mum, filled with muggle movies.

"Breakfast club definitely!" You say, or rather insist, casting a glance back in the mirror as you try to untangle a particularly knotted strand of hair.

"Have you seen it? Mum says it's one of her favourites," Hermione smiles excitedly.

You nod with a chuckle, "yeah me and my friends have watched it a few times, it's one of my favourites too."

"Breakfast club it is!" Ginny says with a little squeal as she claps her hands. You take a moment to look at the two girls and see how perfectly happy they are. You'd grown up around boys yourself, most of your muggle friends being boys and then the twins, so you completely understood how valued a girly night could be, a chance to really bring out the side of yourself that you didn't often show too much.

"Okay, we have treats, a movie, I'll braid your hair and then you do my makeup? Oh I forgot drinks!" Ginny says, planning ahead.

"I'll go and get drinks," you smile, "what does everyone want?"

You make your way downstairs, seeing the twins' door is now shut and continue down until you reach the kitchen, seeing Molly sat at the table with a box of photographs out.

"Oh hello dear, can I get you anything?" She asks, immediately moving to stand by the table. You smile and shake your head, urging her to sit down.

"Just grabbing a few drinks, would you mind if I made a cup of tea? If my tea making skills weren't too horrible last time I could make you a cup too?" You laugh and she smiles warmly at you.

"That would be lovely dear, thank you."

You walk over and flick on the kettle seeing it already filled with water before pulling out two mugs and two glasses, filling the latter with pumpkin juice for the girls.

You cast a look back to Molly who looks sad, gazing at pictures of her kids when they were younger. You can see she's holding a picture of what looks to be a young Percy, smiling whilst holding an ice cream. Fred and George had mentioned the situation with Percy a few times, never quite explaining it in depth but you knew enough of his distancing to realise how much it must hurt her and Arthur.

When the kettle is done, you quickly fix the two cups of tea, her's with two sugars, and bring it over to her at the table.

"Thank you my dear," she smiles up at you though you can now see that the smile is masking a rather sad look in her eyes.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" You ask. She briefly lifts her eyebrows in surprise before smiling again, this time genuinely as she offers you the seat beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?" You ask, surprising her again as you nod to the photo she's stroking with her thumb.

"Oh don't go bothering yourself with silly old me," she smiles but you shoot her a look which tells her that that is exactly what you wanted.

She begins telling you the story behind the photo and of a few more that appear, some of Percy and some of Ron, animatedly telling the tales and little quips from their childhoods. She looks so happy to walk down memory lane and you have to admit that it's nice to sit with her and listen.

She then pulls out a photo of the twins you had never seen, making you laugh as she passes it to you.

"So cute!" You hold it delicately and look upon the smiling faces of the boys, both stark naked except for a pair of Wellington boots on their feet, holding flowers and laughing at each other.

"Oh they'd hate to know I was showing you this," she giggles and you immediately see where the mischief in George and Fred comes from. Even seeing them no older than 2 or 3, you can immediately tell that Fred is on the right and George on the left. Fred's smile is wickeder whereas George's is playful and you can clearly make out a little freckle on George's right rib which is still prominent today.

She then pulls out another one and it looks like they're around 7 or 8 with a slightly younger and much shorter Ron stood beside them crying. Both twins are dressed identically in their raincoats as they stand cheekily with huge grins on their faces at what looks to be the seaside. George on the right is holding a fish that they look to have caught whereas Fred beside him isn't, until you looked at little wailing Ron who seemed to have a dead fish in his coat hood.

"I can never tell who's who in that photo," she admits and you smile.

"George is on the right," you say without thinking. She turns to you and you immediately realise that you might have said something incriminating.

"You've always been so able to tell them apart," she smiles, reaching for your hand and tapping it, "I'm envious but I'm so glad they have a friend like you. How can you tell?" She flicks her eyes back to the photo and tries to really look at their faces and you smile as you watch her so keen to tell them apart.

"George would never put a fish in Ron's hood unless Fred had dared him," you say with a chuckle, pointing at the missing fish in Fred's hand. "And he certainly wouldn't look that happy about it if he had." Molly laughs as she nods her head, seemingly understanding now that it's not always about physical differences.

"Fred and George were my happiest babies," she says with a fond smile as she digs through a stack of photos. "This one has always been my favourite of them."

She hands you the photo and you melt at seeing their happy little baby faces, an 'awww' noise falling from your lips subconsciously. They look less than a year old, both sat on the rug in front of a closed off fireplace, though the twin on the right is propped up slightly by a pillow, their smiles wide with only a few teeth between them, cheeks all round and chubby. You can make out little embroidered patches on their clothes, the one on the right with a G and the other with a little golden F sewn onto his tiny jumper. Even without the letters you could have seen who was who. George was looking directly into the camera, flashing his two bottom teeth whereas Fred was looking above the camera, beaming widely at whoever took the photo, his four front teeth gleaming from the flash of the camera. "They're so cute," you gush, handing her back the photograph.

"What's cute?" You hear, turning your head towards the voices, realising instantly that it's the twins. Molly immediately giggles, knowing how they'd react at seeing pictures of them.

"Your Wellington boots," you laugh as Molly erupts into more giggles.

"Mum!" They both shout running over, knowing instantly what you're referring to as they notice the box of photos on the table. You can't help but laugh along with Molly as she moves to put them away.

She grabs your hand again, ignoring the twin's protests and smiles at you, "thank you, I needed that."

"Anytime," you smile and she taps your hand motherly before pulling away and moving the box back to its place inside the cabinet.

Realising how long you've been gone, you reach for the two glasses of pumpkin juice and wink at the squabbling, blushing twins before climbing the stairs again.

"Sorry, sorry, your mum needed help with something," you explain as you enter Ginny's bedroom, now fully prepared for girls night.

——————

"I don't know, I think Andrew's cute!" Ginny says as you all debate over the hottest character in the breakfast club whilst you do Ginny's makeup. Ginny, true to form, fancied the blonde haired jock, whereas Hermione liked the science nerd Brian.

You'd watched the movie as Ginny braided your hair up into two tight braids that ran across your head and you were now discussing it whilst you gave Ginny a mini makeover.

"Y/n?" Hermione asks, turning to you, asking who your chosen character was.

"Bender obviously," you say matter of factly, laughing as you see their faces scrunch up.

"But he's so bad!" Hermione shouts, throwing her hands animatedly.

"Kind of the point 'mione," you smile, wiggling your eyebrows as you finish Ginny's eye makeup.

"Ahh she likes the bad boys!" Ginny squeals, causing you to roll your eyes and curse her for moving as you were filling in her eyebrows.

"So that's why you hang around with the twins so much!" Hermione giggles and you suddenly feel your throat go dry at her words. You knew that she hadn't truly meant anything by it but it still caught you off guard, realising that you needed to cover your tracks.

"Yeah right, you caught me," you laugh.

"So is there anyone you do have your eye on?" Hermione asks and you scramble to try and think of someone, anyone worth mentioning that would be believable. You come up empty. You can't think of a single boy you find even remotely attractive at school that wasn't ginger and 6ft 3.

"Not really," you lie, trying to sound as convincing as possible, "I guess I'm not really that interested? All the boys at school are just so immature and boyish."

"Once again, the twins?! They're your best friends and the most immature boys I've ever met," Ginny laughs, causing you to throw the nearest cushion at her. "You know I secretly always thought you'd end up with Fred."

"Huh?" You ask, a frown covering your face as your heart starts beating a little quicker at her words. She simply smiles and shrugs as Hermione nods her head in agreement.

"I just see the way he looks at you, and you two have always been so touchy and flirty, I thought for sure he would have made a move by now," Ginny says, shrugging again.

You immediately feel conflicted by her words, feeling torn between slight giddiness at hearing someone else's perspective on your secret boyfriend fancying you, but you also can't help the slight pang of remorse you feel at George not being included. You reason that most people can't even tell them apart and so maybe they just didn't see George being as flirty and attracted to you.

"You're all done," you say as you finish up Ginny's makeup, hoping that your slight diversion would stop the cut down the current  conversation.

She runs to the mirror and squeals in delight at seeing her shimmering eyes and long lashes.

Hermione giggles and messes with the DVD player, before slipping another disc out of the wallet.

"Okay, Sixteen Candles?"

[artzee-bee]

Forever my love | Adrien Agreste x reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Requested by @oyasumimosura

Summary: friends to strangers to lovers with a no-so-happy ending

Genre: some fluff, angst

Warnings: canon typical violence (maybe tuned up a notch tho), death

A/N: my google doc for this piece is 10 pages long and it’s went through at least 4 alternate endings before getting here. I got this request months ago and have been working on it since, whenever I can. I hope this is alright because it’s been a journey...

~~~

There was no ‘first memory’ with you. Not one that would come to Adrien’s mind anyways. It felt like you had simply always been in his life. The only thing he remembered was you and your mother, entering the Agreste mansion as if it was your own, almost every Sunday. His mom would welcome both of you with wide arms and offer you tea, and biscuits, which you would snuck to Adrien’s room. Your favorite have always been the ones with strawberry jam filling.

And then you’d play for hours! Building fortresses out of chairs and pillows, racing toy cars around the room, saving plush animals from the imminent danger of Adrien’s rocketship and so on. Not a single moment spent with you felt boring! Your presence was addictive, the joy, the excitement you brought with yourself every time was something Adrien couldn’t understand at the time but now, as an adult looking back, he could easily recognise it as love.

But the world has its own way of never quite letting you be happy enough. The memory of your last playdate, as well as the day his parents told him you were moving away, were very hazy and unclear. For years he refused to revisit them, the sorrow too great for his young, immature self to know how to handle. Now, there was only one sentence he could remember you saying, clear as day. One promise that gave him more hope than he could put in words. “We’ll keep in touch”.

You exchanged letters the whole time you were away!! Of course, they could never be a substitute for the time spent together but Adrien learned to appreciate them deeply. He took his time responding to each of them and always nervously awaited your response. Years went on like that! Every summer you’d promise to visit and every time Adrien would have the displeasure of having to read, in your flawless and delicate handwriting, that your parents canceled the trip for whatever reason.

Eventually, he decided it was best to move on. In the time you had been gone many things changed: he grew up, got big in the fashion industry, started school, became the new black cat miraculous holder, made friends! His life became overwhelmingly busy and the precious memories you made together faded away without notice. He found joy in other things and in his new friends! Your letters no longer brought the excitement they once did and consequently, he always postponed replying until eventually, it all stopped.

Much to Adrien’s shock, almost exactly a year after losing contact, he saw you! He had been transformed at the time, having just finished defeating an akuma when he saw you exiting a coffee shop down the street. He couldn’t believe his eyes and had it not been for the alarming beeping of his miraculous, he probably would have stayed petrified on top of that roof much longer. Once detransformed, he tried to go looking for you but to no avail.

It wasn’t until a week later that he finally got to talk to you again. Natalie reached out to your family and arranged for you two to meet. That Friday afternoon, you had lunch at a pizza place that you didn’t recognise. He looked the same. Same innocent glimmer in his eyes and ecstatic voice. It almost weirded you out how much it seemed this boy never changed. But of course, you weren’t right. Many things have changed.

Adrien tried his best to be open and friendly. To him, it felt like no time had passed at all, but you were so quiet and shy. A subtle frown was visible on your face from the moment you arrived and you barely looked him in the eyes. The air around you felt thick with discomfort, which was extremely frustrating to Adrien. He wanted to ask what’s wrong but found it so difficult to speak his mind until, eventually, you opened up yourself.

“Why did you stop writing?” your voice didn’t betray any feeling of anger or sadness and yet, Adrien was instantly washed over with guilt

“I’m sorry. I wanted to but…”

“Was I not worth it?”

“What?” Adrien couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you were just as still and cold as before

“Because, you see, when we were kids you were one of the most important people in my life. You were my best friend and I honestly thought we would never ever be apart! No one could ever break us up! And I put everything I had into not losing that, convinced that you’d do the same for me! Because your friendship was worth more to me than any number of kilometers between us!” your words fell out quickly and stung him “Was I not worth fighting for, Adrien?”

He didn’t know what to say! He wanted to tell you he was just stupid and made a grave mistake. That you were more than worth it, but the words were stuck in his throat.

You didn’t speak after that. Adrien was heartbroken but figured you were already so mad at him, it would only make it worse if he kept pestering you on.

Eventually, one night, after patrol, he saw you! It was already way after dark and you were just strolling down the street all alone. A sense of anxiety overtook him and he knew he couldn’t go home just yet

“Good evening pretty lady!” he greeted you, full of glee. “The streets can get pretty nasty this late at night, y’know? Hope you don’t mind if this street cat walks alongside you for a while.”

“Hello Chat Noir!” your voice was so smooth and warm “ I’d really love that. I was actually quite uncomfortable walking alone.” “Well then, fear not!The bravest and strongest hero in all of Paris is right here at your service! Did I also mention the most charming?” you giggled to his silliness

Adrien was ecstatic to get to talk to you again, like old times. He finally felt like he got his friend back! He didn’t even realize how big of a hole your absence had left in his life. After that night, he would accompany you everyday on your evening walks and, soon enough, you began hanging out at your house. Oftentimes he would knock on your bedroom window shortly after you got home from school and more often than not, he would spend hours at your place. You did almost everything together from playing video games to watching movies, cooking, gossiping. He would tell you all the fun stories he had with Ladybug from their patrols and would blush a little when you began laughing uncontrollably. It was just too cute.

With all this joy, still there was an ounce of pain at the idea that you didn’t know who you were really talking to. Almost every time you called him Chat, his heart would sting a little. He liked being Chat Noir. He loved it even. With you however, it just felt like one big lie he could do nothing about. He wanted you to look at him and see the boy from all those years ago. To look at him and call him by his name. To rejoice in old memories, instead of him having to pretend he hears the story for the first time. Adrien couldn’t help but feel like he was betraying you by simply being here, knowing how mad you were with his civilian self. When those thoughts got to him, he felt more alone than ever, but you almost always picked up on it

“What’s wrong?” you would ask and the sweetness of your voice ran like ice down his body. You would not be this kind if you knew

“Absolutely nothing, I am doing wonderful” he’d say through gritted teeth

“Sit down and talk to me!”

“I can’t. It’s personal” which you knew really meant “It would put my identity in danger”

So you would shut up. You’d make tea or let him have the last cookie as a sign of solidarity. To let him know you still cared. Sometimes he would ask you for hugs, which you would indulge him in. You’d wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight to your chest, trying to convey all the love and care you had for him in that one gesture. Almost always, the hero would melt into your embrace as if he’d never been held before. His head would rest on your shoulder and his blonde locks tickled your neck and cheek.

Confessing to you was the biggest risk he ever took, which meant a lot considering his occupation. It happened after yet another game of cards lost by Chat. It had been what felt like his 15th loss of the night and in a futile attempt to protect his remaining dignity, he slipped

“You’re only winning cause I love you too much to let you lose!” the cocky attitude dropped instantly as he processed his choice of words. You were just looking at him, a little quizzingly, unsure if you heard him right.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do”

The brightest smile overtook your features instantly “Good. I love you too!”

It was difficult for a long time. The secret identity issue became even greater with the new level of intimacy that was expected with the start of a romantic relationship. On top of that, Adrien was pretty clueless. You were his first girlfriend, the first girl he ever fell in love with, the pressure was high. He wanted to be the best boyfriend there was! He brought you many gifts, big and small. He spent as much time with you as he could, he always told you just how much you actually meant to him. The blush on your cheeks and the witty comebacks made him melt through his seat every time and with every happy memory he made with you came the unmistakable pain of never really being completely honest with you. On one of your sleepovers, the feelings were overwhelming Chat more than he thought was possible

“What’s going on Chat?”

“Nothing darling. Just tired”

“Come on, you know you can’t fool me! You’ve been quiet all night, it’s really unlike you”

Adrien’s mind went empty when you sat on the floor in front of him, lightly running your fingers over his leather clad ones. The trust and love in your eyes was so mesmerizing. No one had ever looked at him like that and for a split second he imagined your reaction if you knew who he was. He wondered if you’d kick him out. Break up with him here and now and never want anything to do with him ever again. He imagined the anger in your voice, the betrayal. And then, he considered, briefly, a different option. A scenario in which you’d hug him tight and kiss the top of his head, and there’d be no more lies. No more secrets, no more of these impossible feelings that were tormenting him. That smile, that bliss, engulfed his mind and he felt powerless in the face of hope.

“I’m sorry” he said weakly

“For what?” and before he could think for another second, talk himself out or consider the consequences of his actions, he did the only thing he felt was logical

“Plagg, claws in”

When the green light vanished and Adrien found himself back in his normal clothes, he didn’t muster to look at your face

“Chat, what are you doing?” finally, he glanced up, only to find you curled up on the ground, with your hands over your eyes. You hadn’t seen him

“It’s ok.”

“You detransformed?”

“Yes…”

“Chat you can’t do that.”

“I want you to see me” he tried to sound confident, but it came out almost as a plea.

“What about Ladybug?”

“I’ll deal with her later. It’s ok. I swear”

“Chat…”

“Please”

Adriean reached out to pull your hands away from your face, but your eyes were still closed

“Chat?”

“Yes?”

“Before I look, I want you to know that I love you regardless of who you are. If you’re doing this because you think I can’t love you fully without knowing your identity, if you’re doing this for me, please know that this won’t change anything. I want you to be comfortable with this, ok?” Adrien blushed, feeling tears well up in his eyes

“I want to do this” he kissed your knuckles “if that’s ok with you”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and Adrien felt his heart beating out of his chest. Your face went soft and your eyes welled up with tears and you looked at eachother. You couldn’t muster a word and neither could he. He took this as you being disappointed and let go of your hand, only for you to grab it once more, much harder than before. Finally, tears came rolling down your cheeks, as you whispered a simple “I love you”

That night, neither of you could stop crying. The liberation of all secrets and all lies felt divine and finally, Adrien felt like he was 100% safe for the first time in his life.

Many things changed after that. Adrien got a serious scolding from Ladybug, since he couldn’t lie to her about what he’s done. She wasn’t as mad as he expected her to be, so in the end it was all worth it when you began showing up to the Agreste mansion to hang out. It was hard for Adrien to find time to spend with her during the day but Natalie was always so understanding of their relationship and tried her best to squeeze in an hour or two here and there for you! Now, Adrien could hold your hand and take you to his photoshoots. You facetimed more often and it finally felt like you got the relationship you were always meant to have.

~~~

Paris looked beautiful from the top of the Eiffel tower. Chat took you here many times before. It felt so romantic being up there with your best friend, the boy of your dreams! You felt so powerful looking down at all the lights and cars passing by and at the same time so protected by his tight grip around your waist. Nothing could hurt you if he was there, with or without the costume! But the arms holding you now were much slimmer and much less concerned with your safety. You knew you shouldn’t look down from the edge you were standing on but it was so hard not to. Lila was manic next to you, laughing and shouting about her imminent victory, taunting the two superheroes that were struggling to catch up.The tiny robots Lila could control with her powers had kept Ladybug and Chat Noir busy for just enough time to allow the akumatized girl to take you with her, away from the scene and up here.

“Be careful with what you do next Ladybug, otherwise the girl gets it!” the taunting manner in which she spoke felt hardly like Lila. You never found her to be a particularly pleasant person to be around but the malice with which she spoke now was so unusual!

She kicked your shin, making one of your legs drop off the edge. Had it not been for her holding onto your forearm, you would have dropped. You could see Ladybug and Chat approaching but they were so far away and it felt like they were moving so slowly. A cry ripped through your chest as you hung there, your life in the hands of this girl you couldn’t even recognise anymore.You were trying to pull yourself back on the ledge with your other foot before she kicked that one too, swinging you in the air by your arm.

“Oh oh, but you’re so far away little Bug? Whatever are you gonna do if my hand …slips?” she let go with a chuckle.

Chat couldn’t see anything around him anymore, all he saw was your helpless body falling from the sky! He screamed your name but he was still so far! Ladybug threw her yoyo, trying to form a net below you, but the speed at which you were falling was much greater than anybody expected. You fell right through the net, breaking it to pieces and hit the ground with a hard thud. Chat screamed, Ladybug was speechless, all the while Lila was laughing on her way down!

“Chat, get her! I’ll handle Lila!”

That’s all it took. Chat was looking down at your unconscious form before he knew it. You were so bloody and so limp in his arms.

“Don’t!” you whispered when he tried to pick you up

“It’s not safe for you here, I need to hide you away!” he almost screamed, too relieved to see you alive to be able to control himself

“It’s over Chat!”

“Don’t talk like that! You will be ok! I will make you ok!”

“I’m tired…”

“No, don’t do it! Focus on me, focus on my voice! Can you see me?”

“You have to protect the people…”

“You are the only one I have to protect! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you, I’m sorry! Please! Please let me protect you!” tears were streaming down his face and he found himself thinking that he would sell his soul to switch places with you

“Chat, I love you” you said through your own tears

“Don’t say goodbye!”

“I’m not”

“I love you Y/N! I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone! I can still save you!” he laid his head on your chest, not believing his own words

“I’ll always love you Adrian!” you whispered in his ear, kissing his temple with the last of your powers

~~~

“You need to hurry up, Adrian needs to be at a press conference across town in one hour and we’re already behind schedule because of you!”

“Nathalie, stop that! Everyone is doing their best here.”

“This photoshoot was supposed to be over already!”

“Maybe you should go have some water while you wait, yeah?” Adrien was trying to be nice but he felt really bad about the way Nathalie was speaking to the makeup artist. He knew they were very busy and Nath was under a great deal of stress but still, he felt it wasn’t fair to the girls working hard to get him ready.

“I’m sorry about that! She’s a lovely person, it’s just the last couple of days have been really hard for her”

“Oh, it’s alright, sir. Trust me I’ve seen much worse before” the young girl replied “Plus, I would imagine that making the switch to become a full time model would bring on a lot more responsibilities on her side.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Adrien chuckled. “If you would have told me last year, when I was still in school, that my schedule would be even more packed as a graduate, I would have probably given up modeling then and there. Now I just deal with it.”

Adrien observed himself in the mirror, thinking back to his high school days. He tried to remember what he looked like, although that was very difficult. He knew his hair was much longer now, reaching just below his chin. He thought his face was a bit slimmer and many people told him he put on a healthy amount of muscle in the last couple of months, but  he was still himself, just 20.

“If you don’t mind sir, we need the first couple of buttons of your shirt undone for the next set. I will add a little contour to the collarbones and then we’re done”

Said and done, with the first few buttons open he looked even more manly than before.

“Um, I think we should take the necklace off if you don’t mind…”

Eyes shot down to his chest, where a tiny silver ring on a chain hung, barely glistening in the lights around.

“Yes, that’s alright” he said, although he never liked taking it off. There was always a worry in the back of his hand about misplacing it or something and the thought was simply unbearable, but he understood.

“That’s a very beautiful piece of jewelry”

“Thank you!” he looked down at the ring twirling it between his fingers. It was so simple, he wasn’t used to receiving compliments on it, even from the select few that got to see it. A simple golden band with a round diamond in the middle. It was so small for him, he could never get it more than halfway down his ring finger. “It belonged to somebody I cared a lot about.” He remembered how hard he worked to get your ring size, all those years ago. It was difficult to do it behind your back, since you had always been so good at reading his body language, you always knew when he was up to something. He remembered all those nights spent on the internet, looking for the perfect ring for you! He knew it needed to be simple but sometimes it was so hard to talk himself out of buying one of the big and glamorous ones. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and if he didn’t take the chance to do that when he was buying your engagement ring, then when would he? Finally, after weeks, he finally found this one and fell in love. It was perfect for you and you were gonna love it. The day it arrived was one of the most exciting times he experienced in the last decade, he could still feel his heart pumping now, at the memory.

“They can’t wear it anymore so I just keep it!” in fact, you had never even gotten the chance to try it on, but those details don’t need to be shared. Still, thinking about the incident, taking place only 2 weeks after he got the ring, hurts him to no end. He was planning the perfect engagement, a grand romantic gesture to make all your dreams come true but now he felt sorrow and regret, wishing he would have simply ran to your door the same day that package was delivered to ask you. At least then you would have known, you would have had the chance to say yes.

“I’m sure they were an incredible person” Adrien only nodded to that “Well, you’re all done, you can head to the set now”

“Thank you, I’ll just drop this off to Nathalie and go”

The pain of not having you around would never go away, Adian had accepted that as a fact! You would always be there for any anniversary or birthday, achievement or simply on lazy days when his mind would wonder. Nothing made the sting of not being able to hold your hand go away but at least the ring, your ring, would comfort him in those moments.

[12-seconds-to-live]

How do I say goodbye?

pairing - f1drivers/2022 

sumary - pt1. of 3 stories about losing the only female driver of the grid

warnings - mentions of death, explicit language, description of a crash.

word count: 1.170

---------------There’s a moment, for me, as a driver, I consider like my personal way to “settle down and go”. And for the first time in my life I wish I was wrong ---------------

“If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

“It’s a rainy day in the Baku GP, not usually we see rain in this circuit but I think that there’s a first time for everything. It’s one of those day when I look up to the sky and start thinking if there it’s something about to happen”.

Well, I guess I wasn’t wrong.

“Radio check, y/n”

“Everything looks ok and wet, and I’m still hungry”

“Thought you like it wet?”

“Oi, that’s Max’s joke”

“Haha. Gotta wait for the end of the race for you to eat, you’re currently P4, gap with Leclerc to 0.2 seconds”

“Copy” 

It was raining in the most extremely way and nobody have the decence of just put a stupid red flag, what a stupid thing coming from the FIA. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not afraid of these conditions, I’m afraid If something happen to somebody. Being the only female driver wasn’t easy, tons of people saying that I’m not as good but, being with Williams and being accepted by them just gives me all that I need to be who I am today.

“I don't quite know How to say How I feel”

“When It’s the red flag coming up?”

“No news from the stewards, we’ll inform you. Keep on strategy B then pit on the next lap, please”

“It’s pouring and I think...”

Silence

“Alice, are you ok? can you hear me?”

“There’s a massive crash on turn 10, we belive It’s the Williams of y/n Brooks. The race has been red flagged”

“we need to know you’re ok, help is on it’s way, stay calm if you can hear me”

Every driver stays in ther garages, waiting in silence, expecting for news, the thing is ... they are not good, they don’t want to say goodbye, not again.

“The marshalls are trying to take her out of the car and I’ve never seen something like this before. I...I can’t...this is so heartbroken for me. I think she’s not moving, the ambulance arrived and they’re taking her. We can see all the drivers reunited. There’s no news about restarting the race but from here we hope that Alice is ok and get back soon”

Maybe.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Forget what we're told Before we get too old Show me a garden that's bursting into life”

It’s been a week since your accident, the GP was cancelled due petitions from all the teams. All the drivers refuse to race knowing that one of them was almost dying. After two surgerys, the doctors keep yourself in observation, you weren’t awake and without signs, no much can’t be done.

The day before the drivers were allowed to visit you, all of them reunited in petition of Alex, your teammate, he made a promise once and with an uncertain future he decided that it was the right time.

“I talked to her mom yesterday. She couldn’t finish the call” said Sebastian in a sad voice

“I feel empty, this is all FIAs fault, I mean, I can’t barely see anything in the circuit”  said Lando

“Yeah, we all agree with that, at the moment we have to keep our prayers and wait for her to heal. I just... I just call you all because...she...she just” start Alex but remembering the reason made him cry.

“Please don’t tell me she passed and we are the last to know” almost scream Max in horror

“Don’t even say that you morron” said George

Alex dry his tears and start “When we were testing the car she made promise to read out loud something but...but I can’t, I’m afraid to lose her, she’s my teammate, my friend and I’m hopeless. Her accident was horrible, The car was a mess and look at us, we are all a buch of mess boys ‘cause we are losing her” he starts crying ever more that George has to keep beside him “And...and have you seen her family? The have that look when we saw Anthoine parent’s after his accident. I...I can’t read this, sorry”

All the boys stand and hug eachother, thinking of you and how much you change their lifes.

“Let's waste time Chasing cars Around our heads”

Being Alex’s confident

Lando’s favourite parther in twitch

Max’s favourite admirer

Daniel’s shoulder to cry and prankster teammate

Pierre, Charles and Yuki’s mom

Lewis and Zhou’s stylist

Sebastian, Kevin and Alonso’s gossip updater

Bottas favourite rookie

Carlos and Checo to be the one to always talk in spanish

George’s to be the one who always laugh with

Mick for helping him being his best version

Esteban for always watch with him Marvel movies and tv shows

And Lance to be his tennis pal

All of them remember. And one thing is sure. There’s no need of a letter of goodbye to remaind of special you are, how loved you are. They don’t want to say goodbye, doesn’t seem fair but...

There’s not always happy endings.

“Please seat, i’m gonna read it” said Lewis. He wait for all of them and open the envolope that contains your letter, he saw your handwriting, so organized with a blue tint on the paper.

He look all their faces and begins

“Hello, if you are reading this is because something happened to me during a race, well, this is not what we wanted but... well, everything happends for a reason. The thing is that i’m not scared, not at all, i mean, this is almost my last words, not coming from my voice but from the bottom of my heart, every race weekend i think about this, got scared and wanna quit sometimes ‘cause i don’t want to believe that i’m losing you.  I don't know where my life is standing after this and everybody must be scared and sad and confused but I just want to let you know that my absence will never change that you guys are my family” Lewis just recieves a hug from Valteri who decides to continue reading.

“Don’t be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends and family. Even though i am going away you will still be a core part of my life. For all the times we hang out, shared laughs, pranks to everybody and races and now I will miss you all the time, hope you do the same. Goodbye. For now. And please, take care between each other. To you, all the drivers, my family, thank you and I love you”.

“Those three words Are said too much They're not enough”

[eretzyisrael]

BY JEHAD AL-SAFTAWI

The two-story construction site was surrounded by a wall and two gates. And every night we were all in the apartment at our family building, where the door closes and locks at 10 p.m. without fail. “No one comes or goes after 10,” my mother told Um Yazid.

The next day I went to the construction site with my mother and Hamza. After a quick look around, we saw nothing amiss. But when we examined the site more closely, we found several concrete slabs in the area under the interior staircase, each about 1.5-ft. long. We also found an area with newly moved soil to the right of our house and the wall surrounding it.

My brother Hamza and I dug a depth of 1.5 ft. in that soil as our mother looked on. We would soon hit a metal gate, sealed with a lock. We had no idea what it was or why it was there. Hamza and I quickly covered the area with soil again and went directly to our neighbor’s house.

Ahead of our visit, Um Yazid told us that every few nights she would look out the windows of her four-story building at the wall surrounding our house and see the arrival of a medium transport vehicle. People would exit the van and hang a large piece of plastic tarp to obscure what they were doing. They would hear sounds of loading and unloading and feel the vibrations of digging coming from the empty piece of land behind our houses. She suspected someone was digging a tunnel.

The day after we inspected the house, Um Yazid called to say that the men had returned in the night. My mother didn’t want me to go, but I put on my clothes and headed alone to the unfinished home. When I reached the iron door of the house, I began to hear the movement of people inside the house. I knocked on the door. A masked person opened the door and asked me to step back a bit. Then he closed the door behind him and asked who I was. I defiantly told him that I am the owner of the house. “Who are you?” I asked.

Meeting masked men is something we are used to in different aspects of Gazan life. We argued. I told him my uncle, who was a member of Hamas and prosecutor in its government, would stop them from building a tunnel. The masked man insisted they would continue as they pleased. He said I should not be afraid and that this would just be a small closed room to remain buried underground. No one can enter or exit. He said that only in the case of an Israeli ground invasion in this area and the displacement of residents would these rooms be used to supply weapons.

“We don’t want to live above a stockpile of weapons,” I told him, just before he forced me to leave.

Construction continued, and Um Yazid continued to report to us about late night activity. Hamza and I visited every few weeks, always finding the same gate, never sure what we could do, or what was really happening behind it. Our uncle assured us we had nothing to fear. 

[justmystyles]

Now You're In My Life - Part 10

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: you and Harry spend the rest of the week together, and have some conversations about your relationship.

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

a/n: it's been two weeks, but i finally have a new chapter for you guys! hopefully, i won't go this long without an update moving forward, but no promises! thank you all so much for your love, support, interactions, and asks, i love how welcomed y'all have made me feel.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

The rest of your week with Harry was better than you ever could have imagined. The day after your family dinner, as promised, Harry joined you and your grandfather at the cemetery to visit your grandmother’s grave. He stayed back, allowing you and your grandfather a private moment. However, before you left, he asked for a minute and took some time at the grave himself. 

You asked him why, and he told you he wanted to meet your grandmother because she was so important to you. 

You asked him what he said, and he told you it was between the two of them. 

You fell in love with him a little bit more. 

When you returned to your grandfather’s house, you stayed and visited for a while. He and Harry got along great, the two of them spent most of the time going through your grandfather’s records and talking about music. You watched on with a smile on your face, knowing that they were both having the time of their lives. 

Harry pulled out one of the many Elvis albums and reviewed the tracks. “Wow, this is a great one.”

“That’s the one I put on tape for Y/N when she was little.” Your grandfather said proudly. 

Harry looked over at you and you smiled with a nod. “When I was three or four, I told him I liked Elvis, so he put that album on a cassette for me. He has been the one musical constant in my life. No matter what I was listening to, or what scene I found myself in, there was always Elvis. There will always be Elvis.” 

“That’s really beautiful,” Harry said. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in to kiss your temple. 

The days following your family visits were mostly spent just enjoying each other’s company at home. It was a level of domesticity you had never had in a relationship before, and it felt perfectly natural. You would lay around, watching television and talking, cooking for each other. Your house had never felt so much like a home. 

At one point, you were in the basement putting in a load of laundry, when you felt Harry’s arms wrap around your waist, and his lips drop onto your neck. 

“I told you I’d be right back.” You chuckled as he continued to place lazy kisses down your neck, and across your collarbone. 

“I know,” he mumbled against your skin. “But I missed you.” 

“You know, it’s kind of cute the way you follow me around like a lost puppy.” Harry simply hummed against your skin in response. “Oh, that’s it!” You said as you removed yourself from his arms and turned to face him. He looked at you with a mix of annoyance and confusion. “I’ve been trying to think of a cute nickname for you, you know because you have one for me?”

“And you’re going with puppy?” 

“Yeah, why? You don’t like it?” You looked at him with big eyes and pouty lips. 

“It just seems…” He trailed off, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. “A princess regal and revered, a puppy is a pet it’s like...” He waves his hands, still unsure quite what to say.  

“Puppy, I’m going to be real with you,” you say with a sly smirk. “The more you fight it, the more I’m going to want to use it.” 

Harry sighs jokingly. “I guess it’s fine.” Truthfully, he would be fine with whatever you wanted to call him, he was just happy to be yours. 

“That’s better,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist as his come around your shoulders. “Besides, it actually works on a couple of levels.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah I mean, you’ve got those extra nipples and all.” 

Harry chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

“The luckiest,” you agree, pulling your arms around him tighter.

One of the things Harry had wanted to do while he was visiting was to go into Boston and do some touristy things. He had traveled to the city before, but it was always for work so he never had much of a chance to truly explore. So he put on his most incognito outfit and the two of you headed into the city. 

As you walked through Faneuil Hall hand in hand, Harry noticed that something seemed to be on your mind. He squeezed your hand gently to get your attention. “You alright?” He finally asked when you looked up at him. 

“Yeah, I just had this super random thought.” He arched his brow, encouraging you to continue. “I’ve come here hundreds of times in my life; field trips, pub crawls, concerts, whatever. But I’ve never actually looked at it as a tourist destination, it’s just the place to go when your small town gets too small.” You muse. “These people took time off of work, booked travel and hotels, planned in advance to come here and do this stuff on a random Wednesday afternoon.” 

“I get it,” Harry replied. “You’ve been here your whole life, it’s not like you’re taking it for granted or anything, but they’re all just looking at everything through a different lens than you are.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Have you ever been here with someone that wasn’t from here?” He asked, you thought about it for a minute and shook your head no. “Perfect, well now you are, so I can help you look at it from a tourist’s perspective.” 

“How are you going to do that?” You ask curiously. 

“We’re going to read all the plaques, take a bunch of silly pictures, and buy cheesy merch!” 

You smile at him, noticing how excited the idea made him. “I actually love that.” 

And that’s exactly what you did. You started at the beginning of the Freedom Trail, following the red brick path and stopping at each of the sixteen sites to take pictures and learn about their significance. After that, you took some time wandering the aquarium, something you’d always loved to do anyway, and moved on to the North End where you insisted Harry try a cannoli from each of the three most famous establishments in the city. A small tift did come up when he chose Modern Pastry over the clearly superior Mike’s. But you finally conceded, saying it just meant more of the good cannoli for you. 

Throughout the day, you noticed murmurs and whispers, as well as people trying to surreptitiously photograph the two of you. A few fans did approach Harry, he politely turned down their requests for photos, but took a few moments to speak with each of them, not wanting to hurt the people who allow him to live his dream on a daily basis. 

At one point, when the crowd seemed to be getting particularly suffocating, Harry suggested that you duck into a nearby restaurant for a bite. They were all very small, so you would be able to get some distance and have some time to yourselves. You chose a restaurant, and Harry requested a table as far from the windows as possible, signaling to the crowd that was forming outside. The hostess nodded and led you up a set of stairs to their private dining area. 

“We don’t have any parties booked, so you can have this space all to yourselves.” She said as she handed you each a menu. “I’ll be right back with some water.” You and Harry thanked her, and she made her way back downstairs.  

“So I’m assuming that happens a lot?” You ask. You knew this was something that was bound to happen as you spent time with Harry, but it was a little jarring to actually see it in person.

“Sometimes,” he replies bashfully. “More so in cities that I don’t spend much time in. I’m around places like London and New York so much that people are kind of used to it.” 

You nod in understanding. “I’m sorry, we didn’t have to go out–”

“No no no princess, don’t be sorry.” He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Today has been wonderful. I want us to go out on dates and have adventures, all of it. Though, this does bring up a piece of the puzzle that I had been slightly dreading.” 

You felt a knot in your stomach at his words. “What do you mean?” 

Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I give so much of myself to the world, but there are things I like to keep to myself, and not share with the public. One of the things I keep to myself are my relationships. Most of the time, the fans end up finding out, but I don’t comment on it, I don’t go out of my way to show it off.” 

He studied your expression carefully, he was worried about how you might take this conversion. You were self conscious, he could tell by the way you would question him about the status of your relationship, or the surprise in your eyes when he would shower you with praise. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he was ashamed or embarrassed by you. 

“I understand.” You said softly. “My socials are all on private, and I haven’t even posted anything about us, and I won’t if–”

“Woah there,” Harry cut off your ramble, scooting his chair so that he was sitting beside you. “I didn’t say that because I was going to start laying down rules. I love you, and I want as normal of a relationship as we can have. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t think I was hiding you.” 

He leaned in, kissing your lips softly, which instantly calmed you. “Okay,” you sighed. “I don’t like being the center of attention anyway.” You shrug. 

He cupped your cheek in his hand. “You’ll always be the center of my attention, princess.” 

After dinner, the staff was kind enough to let you slip out the back exit to avoid the crowd that had assembled waiting for Harry. You made it back to the parking garage without incident, and made your way back home. 

The morning before Harry was scheduled to leave, you were in the kitchen doing the dishes from breakfast when you realized Harry hadn’t been pestering you. This is the quietest he’s been since he’d been there. You dry your hands on a nearby towel and make your way down the hall. You open the bedroom door just enough to peek in. Harry is sitting on the bed holding his phone in front of him, talking to someone on FaceTime. 

He looks up and smiles, you offer an apologetic expression, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’, but before you can back out of the room he stops you. 

“No, it’s alright princess, it’s just my mum. Come over and say hi!” He chuckles when your eyes go wide. You hadn’t met his mother yet, so you were a bit nervous. “Oh don’t be such a baby.” He chided. 

You made your way over to the bed, taking a seat beside Harry, your back resting against the headboard. Harry immediately leans in, kissing your cheek. “Hi,” you greet Anne with a nervous smile and a small wave. 

“Y/N, it’s so lovely to finally meet you. Harry won’t stop talking about you!” 

“Muuummmmm,” Harry groans in mock embarrassment, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you say, mocking his words from earlier, kissing his temple before returning to the phone. “I’m glad to be meeting you as well.”

“Is my boy behaving himself?”

You bring your index finger to your lip, tapping as if you’re deep in thought. “I mean, as best as can be expected.” 

Harry lifts his head, furrowing his brow. “Are you two really ganging up on me already?” 

You and Anne laugh at his dramatics. “I’ll let you two go,” Anne continues. “Y/N, I hope we get to meet in person soon!”

“Me too, definitely!” You agree with a smile. 

Harry says goodbye to his mother, promising he’ll let her know when he lands the following day. After he hung up the phone, he looked at you with a sad smile. 

“So I guess tomorrow is really happening.” You say, alluding to the fact that he’s going to be leaving. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“I’m really going to miss you,” you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. 

Harry pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you have any vacation time left?”

“A couple of days.” 

“I had a thought,” he smiled mischievously. “I know you’re doing Christmas with your family, but what if you came out to spend New Years with me? You could meet my family, I could give you a tour. We could do this whole week, but for me.” 

“Oh,” you pulled back, your face falling. “I can’t, actually.” 

“That’s okay, maybe some time in January?” 

You looked down at your lap and shook your head. “I can’t leave the country.” 

Harry furrowed his brow, lifting your gaze to meet his. “Are you on probation or something?” 

You laughed slightly. “No, I don’t have a passport.” Harry’s eyes went wide at your confession. “Harry, I’ve never even left my time zone before. Why would I need a passport?” 

“Well you’d better hurry up and get one, because you’re my girl now and…” he clears his throat before continuing. “I can show you the world. Shining, shimmering, splendid.” You roll your eyes and try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer as he continues to sing. “Tell me princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?” 

“Alright, alright I’ll get the freaking passport!” You groan. 

Harry pulls you close, smothering your face with kisses. “That’s my girl. In the meantime, I’m coming back here for New Years.”

“Yeah?” 

“Of course, you think I’m not going to get my midnight kiss?” He asked with an arched brow. “But until then,” he repositions you so that you’re laying on the bed and he’s hovering over you. “I’m going to spend all day giving you something to remember me by.” 

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Exposed

Summary: Bond has to make a decision about someone he loves. 

A/N: Hello lovelies,

Oh my dear lovelies, oh sweethearts. I AM SO SORRY for going dark.

As some of you may have read from my last announcement, things got a bit hectic when my mom was in the hospital. It was a scary and crazy experience, she basically became paralyzed from her chest down. I’m talking about an extremely active woman who was on her feet working 10-12 hour days to not being able to move at all. 

We had to rush her to emerge and find out she had contracted some rare bacteria that affected her spine. Needless to say she was in the hospital for a month, and finally was discharged about three weeks ago and is now staying at my brothers. Which is great for her since he has a bungalow and makes it easier for her to move around as she’s learning to walk again. However, that does mean we have to travel a bit to visit her and take care of her when my brother and his family can’t. 

Anyway ... long story short, too late. I am back, I am going to try to catch up on some of our lovely stories. I also have a special surprise for you guys, which I’ll upload sometime this week. I’m currently working on Crosshair’s section of the Gym Membership and then SOTF, the Reunion and Upside Down, and I’m also going to be working on a one-off request that I received. Keep your eyes peeled for those. 

Thank you all for sticking around, for sending me love, and for checking up on me, you have all been super amazing and wonderful. 

A special thanks to @firstofficerwiggles​ and @ulchabhangorm​ for being my beta readers. Love oo.

Italics - flashback

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, blindfolded, smoking, prisoners, cages, feelings of mistrust, bleeding, injury, I think that’s it, if I miss anything please let me know. 

AO3 Link   |   DC Characters Master List   |   Main Master List

The blindfold covering Bond’s eyes finally started to slip down after hours of the corrosive material rubbing against his eyelids, but if this little irritant put him off from his mission, he shouldn’t’ve been able to call himself a double O. 

It been more than three hours, closing on four, since he’d gotten into the first vehicle and the fabric was placed on his eyes. Since then, he’d been moved to two subsequent vehicles, each more uncomfortable then the one previous.

They were travelling across increasingly bumpier roads, from the cobble stones they started out on, to the rural roads he deduced they were currently on. With each bump he felt the rough material scrape across his skin, there was no doubt his eyelids would be rubbed raw by the end of the journey. 

Despite the increasing discomfort, he focused his attention on what was happening around him. 

As the car began to slow down, he expected a gentle stop, of course that was before his whole body shifted forward violently. He would’ve hit the seat in front of him, if he hadn’t engaged his core muscles doing his best to remain upright as the driver slammed on the brakes. He shifted himself back against the seat, as another vehicle slowly approached them.

The car that had been stifling since he’d been shifted into it, finally received a breath of fresh air, as he felt a rush of wind blow across his face and hair when the door flung open. 

Someone grabbed his arm with force, shifting him forcibly from his seat. This wasn’t his first clandestine meeting he attended, yet every time they always decided to yank the blindfolded person from a vehicle; come to think of it, he was guilty of that as well. There was an inherent expectation that the one blindfolded wouldn’t fall, and would be able to follow the silent instructions. 

Maybe just for fun, the next time he was going to fall to the ground just to throw them off, and chuckle at hearing them become all flustered. 

There was an eerie silence that seemed to hang in the air as he got out of the car, it wasn’t necessarily threatening or dangerous per se, but a seemingly tense atmosphere between the two drivers themselves, maybe an affair of the heart, or simply rivals for one thing or other. He concluded he was being transferred to yet another vehicle, as his guide pushed him forward, hopefully this would be the last vehicle transfer before arriving at his destination. 

His guide kicked his left foot, trying to push it up onto a ledge, he didn’t need much prodding as he stepped up doing his best to gain some form of balance, when he was shoved into the seat. There was no doubt it was an older truck, the cracked leather seats felt as though thousands of tiny pins were poking his butt as he shifted to find a somewhat comfortable spot. 

It didn’t take long to get them on the road again, the further they drove on, the more he was able to determine their heading. The bumps in the road had started to appear less and less, instead it became increasingly dusty from what he could gather as he breathed in more dust from the air vents. The noise from the city vanished completely and replaced by the sound of trees rustling in the breeze and birds squawking from above. As far as he could tell, they hadn’t passed another vehicle in the past thirty minutes, which could only mean they were in an even more isolated area then they had been previously.

The truck shifted gears as it began to slow down, the driver turning ever so gently before he decided to slam on the brakes, lurching him forward once again. He was seriously thinking about talking to whoever taught these guys how to drive. He was trying to brace himself before hitting the dash, only to be pushed back this time into his seat by his guide’s forearm; he wasn’t sure but there was a high probability he would have a bruise on his chest later. At least he could say there was some concern about his safety, relatively speaking.

The relative peace that had surrounded him was now replaced by the sound of various footsteps rushing towards the truck, when the door flung open.

“Get out!” The voice demanded without any further explanation or care. Either from the person’s lack of English or simply they didn’t wish to expand more than the two words because of the unbearable heat beating down against them, the breeze that he had enjoyed was now a distant memory. It hadn’t been so bad in the truck as they drove on their way, but now that it was idle, the lack of breeze, the humidity, and the sun bearing down on them started to feel stifling.  

Though he still couldn’t see much as he moved out of the truck, he was able to see something through the fabric covering his eyes, from the small opening provided by the shift of the blindfold. It was mostly outlines of objects, shapes that provided a hint as to what he was seeing against the bright sun and bluish-grey sky. 

He took in a deep breath, there was a hint of salt in the air brushing against his tongue as he licked his lips; so they’d been travelling closer to the sea. Possibly the Pacific Ocean side as the air wasn’t as salty compared to the Atlantic. The thickness from the rustling of the trees was no mistake they were somewhere dense, either near the border of the forest, or just on the edges of an abandoned village. 

The humidity surrounding him, simply reaffirmed his suspicions, it was thick and suffocating. They had driven closer to the coastline.

Someone grabbed his arm pushing him foward, he could hear sounds of people moving around him, out of his and his guide’s way. Not completely disappearing simply moving off to the side, as they whispered among themselves. He could feel eyes analyzing and scrutinizing his every move, waiting for an opportunity to strike, despite his hands still being restrained. 

As he walked along, his foot bounced off the corner of a box he estimated as best he could from the sound and movement of what he hit. His theory was confirmed as his guide shoved him down onto the seat. He adjusted himself as best he could, as someone cut the zip-ties binding his hands, seconds after his wrists felt sweet relief, his blindfold was yanked off without any concern. 

It took him a few seconds to adjust to the brightness, probably could’ve been worse if his blindfold hadn’t slipped, allowing his eyes to adjust even just a little.

“Bienvenido Señor Bond” the thick Spanish accent coming from the heavyset woman sitting in front of him. The structure in front of him, if he could call it that, provided enough shade for her and her table, leaving the rest of her people and Bond to experience the full heat of the sun. The air was filled with the smell of the cheap cigars she was smoking, the smell flowing over and encapsulating him, making him want to eliminate whoever invented those foul-smelling cheap cigars as he held back the bile that was rising.

He left off a light cough, doing his best to be his most charming self possible, “I’m grateful for the meeting Señora, it’s truly a pleasure to be in front of so much beauty ”

“A great pleasure as well, Señor Bond, I understand you are looking for information” she took a long drag from her cigar, the ashes flicking off in the breeze and creating more of the nasty smell. 

Bond nodded “As a gratitude for giving me the opportunity for this meeting” he motioned to the man beside him who had been carrying his bag, the same man he met in the city before they started off on the long voyage to the middle of nowhere, he must have been in the vehicles with him each time he transferred or travelled ahead of him, “a small fee to show my appreciation for the inconvenience this has caused you.” 

The man, loomed over them as he stepped closer, as tall and broad as he was, the man barely made a sound as he gently placed the bag in front of her. 

She eyed Bond, not saying anything as she took an even longer drag of her cigar, she motioned to one of her subordinates to open the case revealing it full of money.

“American?” She asked as the smoke exhaled through her mouth and nose.

“Of course”

She took another puff “What is the information?”

“Several days ago, a man travelled through the area with a backpack”

“There are many men who travel through this area with backpacks, Señor”

“Of course, however, I believe he is a guest of your wonderful facilities, currently” he motioned towards the rundown prisons, well what appeared to be prisons. They were mere barriers out in the open, simply branches tied together with rope, to form cages to keep the unwanted contained. 

She simply shrugged, “Perhaps, perhaps not.” She motioned with her cigar towards Bond, “Do you have a picture of this man?”

Without a word he pulled out a 4 x 6 picture of the man from his pocket. One of the requirements of meeting her was no technology was allowed. No cell phone. No laptop. No tablet. Nothing that could connect him to the outside world. 

Despite the oddity, it didn’t really matter to him why she was being extremely cautious, all he cared about was the reason he was there. He passed the picture to her aide who was waiting to receive the image, she leaned over taking a long look at the picture, taking another drag nodding slowly in agreement.

“You are correct, Señor Bond, this man is indeed one of our guests of our, as you say, wonderful facilities.”

Bond couldn’t help smirk at this fool’s misfortune, frankly he could care less about the predicament he found himself in, “I hope he’s enjoying his stay then, what I’m more interested in, is the backpack this man had with him.”

She hummed as she took another drag, the smoke flaring out of her nostrils, “Was there something special in this backpack?” Her eyes narrowed as she took in the man sitting in front of her, “If there was something my men overlooked…” her eyes narrowing on two men who were standing off to the side, as her anger flared along with her nostrils towards her men, “I would be very disappointed.”

James knew better than to show his hand, after all it wasn’t anything that was obvious to the untrained eye, “Not in the least, the backpack is in fact mine. The man stole it from me, and I simply wish to reclaim it back.”

Another hum from the woman followed his statement, as she took a final drag of her cigar, putting it out on an overfilled ashtray.

“Why so much money to simply retrieve what was stolen?”

“There is a copy of a book that was given to me by my late wife, it was the last gift she gave me before she passed away; it means the world if I was able to get it back.”

She called over one of her men, whispering to him, careful to not let her conversation be overheard. Within seconds the man brought the dull beige backpack, still intact, at least from what Bond could tell.

“Would you mind if I confirm it’s contents, I would hate for anything to be missing or for the book to have been lost”

She motioned for him to stand, as her men surrounded Bond from all areas, their eyes watching his every move. He opened it fully, the clothes neatly stacked on top, a dog eared book of ‘How to Kill a Mockingbird’ sitting there, along with a toiletry bag, he opened it seeing a razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and shaving cream. 

“As you can see there is nothing special in this bag, except for the book. This was the book she left me before …” his hand caressed the book tenderly, before he zipped up the bag, looking as undisturbed as before, retaking his seat on the crate. 

“It appears so” her voice was weary.

“Thank you for retrieving my belongings, I would like to compensate you of course, for your troubles.” He put his hands inside his pockets, pulling out two stacks of a hundred American dollars placing them on the table in front of her, “There’s about $20,000 here, as a personal thank you.”

“Señor Bond you are quite good at making friends” she smirked as she slowly picked up the bundles, “Ernesto will take you back to the village. If you ever need my services again, I am more than happy to help.”

“Señora” Bond bowed, giving her his whimsical smile, as he followed Ernesto back to the truck, he sat down the backpack in between his legs, as he was blindfolded once again for the long journey back. 

- - - - - - - - - - - 

The book lay beside Q’s laptop as it’s front pastedown was peeled back, leaving only the indent of a microchip in its wake.

“Q, is the information compromised or not?” Mallory was annoyed as the youngish technician appeared to be taking his time with providing answers that he desperately needed.

“Don’t worry” Bond intervened, “Q’s probably confirming for the third time before he gives us any answers. You know how annoyingly diligent he can be.”

Q focused his attention back on the computer screen doing his best to ignore the comments; however he knew no amount of rechecking would change the answer that laid before him. He leaned back after reading the information for the third time, “Only one identity was compromised”

“Why aren’t you more concerned!” Mallory’s patience was at an end.

“Because it was compromised two weeks ago”

Silence filled the room, as the weight of what was discovered sunk in; the identity of their undercover agent was already revealed, the chances they were still alive were remote if even possible. 

Mallory leaned against the desk, his head hanging low between his shoulders. He’d prided himself on doing all he could for his agents, there would always be deaths in this field that was inevitable, but he always wanted to make sure they knew they weren’t alone. They had support, backup, as much as he was able to offer. 

“Who was it?” Mallory mumbled out as his eyes closed tightly, trying his best to squeeze out the shame and guilt he felt. No one realized there'd been a breach, until it was too late, and then finding out who breached their network, how it was breached took even more time. He failed them, and nearly had others killed. 

Q glanced from Mallory to Bond, a heaviness rested in his chest, the next words he was about to utter would change his friend’s life forever. He focused back on the computer, maybe he was wrong, maybe it was a different person with a similar name and same date of birth, who just happened to have taken over the same undercover name. After all he’s made mistakes before, this could just be one of those unfortunate blunders, it would be better to keep this between Mallory and himself, “Maybe we should …” Q was about to say ‘discuss this in private,’ when Bond cleared his throat.

“Q … say it” James wanted to be wrong, he wanted the name that popped into his head, the moment Q said an identity had been leaked, to be different from the name Q was getting ready to say. 

“007 …”

“Q. Say. It.” James’ voice was tense, his eyes focused on Q’s, taking notice of every twitch, the number of blinks, even every bead of sweat on Q’s face, it all told him a story. Told him to expect the worse. 

Q took the time to focus on Bond’s demeanour, there was no way around it. He wanted to know and no amount of coaxing or trying to pull the old ‘need to know’ routine would stop him. If he didn’t provide him with the information, he’d just break into his computer later and look for it himself, and the last thing Bond needed was a charge of treason. He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes trying to calm the unpleasant dreary sensation in his heart. He nibbled on his bottom lip, hoping the numbing sensation would make it easier to say what he needed to, “It’s J, 007.”

“When did J …”

“J was recalled to active duty a year ago, specifically for this assignment.”

James could feel his heart racing, his blood pumping faster, he could feel beads of sweat being to form and climbing its way down his spine. 

The sun was breaking in through the window as James watched you sleep, he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face, as you scrunched your nose, trying to remove whatever irritated you, mumbling in your sleep. He’d been up for almost an hour, after he had the same nightmare yet again. He knew he should’ve woken you up, whenever he had the dream of your death, it was only you that could ease the pain in his heart; however this time just watching you sleep, peacefully, calmed his heart. It was a sense of peace and tranquility that filled him just lying there beside you. He did his best to memorize every millimetre of your face, wanting to make sure he didn’t miss a single freckle or blemish on your face. In that moment, as he lay beside you, he knew. Truthfully, he had known since the moment you walked into his life, but in that moment he knew he wasn’t going to run away from what he felt, he wasn’t going to tiptoe around the issue anymore. You were the one. You were the missing piece of his life. In that moment, he wanted to wake you up, and ask you to marry him. 

He felt Mallory’s eyes on him pulling him back to the present, as M looked between Q and himself. He was trying to quell the coldness enveloping him completely, James’ fists clenched by his side as a thousand different scenarios ran through his head. This wasn’t the first time you were in a crunch, but at least then he was by your side. 

You pressed into your side, praying and hoping to stop the bleeding as James provided cover. Things were looking bleak for the both of you, you were down to maybe five rounds, your extra magazine used and spent. Bond had taken one of your pursuers guns but even then, he was running low. 

“Okay, I bought us a few minutes” he rushed out, controlling his breathing as best he could. His eyes glanced over doing his best to assess your situation. “What do you say? Ready to make a run for it?”

You could only chuckle and offer a weak smile as he grabbed your arm, but you knew the chances of both of you making it out were slim, especially with your wound that didn’t want to close. The bullet was still in there, and pressing against your ribs. You grabbed his shirt with all the strength you had left, pulling him towards you, kissing him deeply one last time. 

James was shocked at first but didn’t hesitate as he deepened the kiss, you didn’t have to tell him, he already knew what you were thinking. This was your goodbye kiss, you were going to tell him to run and to leave you there to cover his escape; but there was no way he was going to do that, his hand shifted from the side of your face, he slowly flexed his wrist, popping out the the tiny dart Q had mounted into his watch before the mission,  and pressed it against your neck. 

As you felt the prick in your neck, you pulled back and pressed your hand against your neck, “Wha… wha… whhh…”

James watched as your eyes slowly closed and your head fell against his shoulder, “Sorry love” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Can’t lose you.” He picked you up, and carried you to the extraction point, doing his best to stay ahead of the assailants.

Now wasn’t the time to panic, he needed as much information as he could gather, “Is it possible to contact J? Confirm in some way that J’s still alive?”

“J’s locator is no longer active. Even the communicator I gave is turned off. All the designated escape rendezvous arranged previously haven’t been used. There is one possibility, give me a minute, I’ll check …” Q’s words trailed off into nothingness as he focused his attention back on his computer.

Mallory stood from his position, it was not the time to be wallowing in self-deprecation. 007 looked as though someone punched him in the gut, or ripped out his heart. Not to mention, there was the possibility of an agent out there on their own for the past two weeks, that could very well need his help.

“You know this … J … personally?” Mallory asked keeping his voice low, as he subtly moved 007 away from Q allowing the genius to do his job.

“More or less” Bond responded, although he heard his voice answer Mallory, it didn’t feel like it was him that was actually talking.

“Meaning?”

“She’s my fiancé …” Mallory looked shocked for a second, before he was able to control his features once again; Bond didn’t draw attention to it, nor did he appear to really be paying attention to what he was saying at that moment. 

James looked around the room, making sure everything was perfect. The candles were lit, your favourite meal was on the dining room table, along with your favourite flowers. He was wearing the navy blue suit you loved, it was the one he wore when you first met, you always told him that image always lived in your memory. He felt for the ring box in his breast pocket. The nerves building as the thought of what he was about to do started to sink in. He always swore he’d never get involved with anyone again after Vespa, but you slowly broke down his walls, and pushed your way into his heart, and before he knew it here he was getting ready to propose to you. Now all he had to do was wait till you got home.

Something pulled James back from where his mind went, maybe it was the fact Q had stopped typing, or just having faith that J’d be okay, and there was no need to be lost in what-ifs. He cleared his throat, straightening and adjusting his tie, “Former. My former fiancé from years past.”

You stood on the street, as the rain pelted down soaking your and James’ clothes straight through. Your tears were welling up as your throat ached from the fight the both of you just had, James was doing his best to hold it together, seeing how much in pain you were from something he did. 

“I’m sorry! But you know this job … this life …”

Your fingers clenched around your engagement ring, “You promised me we would leave. We would both walk away from this job, from everything!”

James ran his hands over his face, “You know how difficult it can be …”

“Oh shut up! You claim to love me, you claim to I’m the one you want to be with, but if that was true you wouldn’t hesitate. Just admit James, you simply don’t want to be with me!”

“How can you say that? I’m here fighting to be with you!”

“Then leave! Leave with me!”

“You know I can’t. Not right now.”

“If you don’t leave now, you’ll lose me”

James closed the distance between the two of you, cupping your face in his hands, “Don’t. Don’t do this.”

You didn’t want to walk away, not from him; but if he wasn’t ready to make the commitment you weren’t sure you could wait around until he was ready. You had already waited five years just to be with him, and now just when you thought everything was finally coming together, it was all falling apart. 

Your hand slowly stroke his cheek, you brushed your lips against his pulling him closer. He didn’t wait or hesitate, he reciprocated making sure the kiss was as passionate and intimate, James didn’t want to think this was the final kiss he could ever give you. 

You pulled away, taking his hands in yours, you pulled off the ring and placed it in his hand. “I can’t do this when you’re not ready. I’m sorry.”

That was all you said as you left him standing there, James just watched you walk away, not sure of how to fix this.

Mallory didn’t say much, simply nodding his head. He knew the affairs of the heart all to well, he wasn’t going to pry into Bond’s past no matter how sorely he was tempted, “Are you able to handle this?”

James turned his head and locked eyes with Mallory, “Are you?”

“Very well, 007.”

Both regained their focus and steadied their nerves, Q looked up as he felt their gazes on him, he adjusted his glasses as he reviewed the information, “I triple checked all morgues, hospitals, law enforcement announcements, even underworld bounties, and I can neither confirm nor deny J’s alive … or dead.”

“Pardon me?” Mallory stated as his hand hitched on his waist, his anger needing an outlet. Not only had they been breached, but it appears it was a targeted breach against one particular agent that didn’t seem to have raised any red flags in their assignment. 

Q adjusted his glasses, not bothering to look at the very annoyed and confused expressions that no doubt rested on both of their faces, “If J were dead there would be a report of either an unidentified body, J’s undercover name or J’s real name, and if that wasn’t going to happen, then there would be a police report about a body found or a … piece found. However there’s nothing. There’s still a pretty large bounty on J, 750,000 euros. Which tells me two things, one - J escaped before the identity was revealed. Now how J knew the cover was blown, I couldn’t possibly guess. However, that brings me to number two, as of right now J’s escaped the clutches of whoever put the bounty. Otherwise, it would’ve been removed, not to mention there would be some form of notice on the dark web.”

“Okay that means J’s likely alive, but you said you weren’t sure about J’s death?”

“Well they could have found J and kept the bounty up to keep us thinking J’s alive when that isn’t the case. They could also be torturing J for information …”

Bond held up his hand, “Okay we get.”

“If J’s captured, then there’s nothing we can do.”

The air in the room went frigid, as Bond slowly turned his head to look at Mallory, “There’s always something we can do” his voice was terse as he addressed Mallory.

“I’m sorry 007, but you know the rules better than anyone. Captured and you’re on your own; MI6 will disavow all knowledge regarding your existence and activity. If J’s caught, there’s simply nothing I can do.”

The tension between the two seasoned men started to grow, one due to the power and position he held, limiting his ability to help an agent in need, the second due to his own feelings and sense of duty to the one who had held his heart far longer than anyone else since Vespa. 

Q held up his hand, “Before you two get into a testosterone filled match to decide which of you is bigger, I found something”

“Surprised you didn’t just wait till after” Bond smirked, appreciating the fact he could always tease Q no matter what the situation called for.

“I was tempted, but this is more pressing. I found a … as best I can describe it, some sort of distress code, on a back channel that hasn’t been used for a while.”

“What does it say?” Mallory was beginning to have doubts about this agent; first, why was only J’s identity that was revealed? Secondly, how did J survive? 

“Need extraction. No response in two weeks. Will go dark. Heima. J out.”

“When was this posted?” James hand clenched by his side, something wasn’t right. Heima referred to their home they were planning on building in Milford Sound, the remotest area of New Zealand.

“Sixteen days ago”

“J already went dark.”

“Question” Mallory couldn’t hold his tongue anymore, “If she was able to escape why didn’t she come back in? Why wait to get an extraction? Why wait to hear back? And why was J’s identity the only one that was leaked?”

Bond turned to look at Mallory, “Are you questioning J’s loyalty?”

“It does raise some concerns” Q offered reluctantly.

“I know J!”

“It bears some consideration, 007” Bond didn’t need to hear this anymore, he grabbed the equipment Q had laid out for his next mission; ignoring Q’s comment.

“Where do you think you’re going, 007?” Mallory was about to stop him but thought better of it.

“Heima” was all James said as he walked out.

Mallory looked at Q waiting for an answer, he simply shrugged, adjusting his glasses, “Did you expect anything less? I mean …” Q motioned with his hand to the door Bond exited, “Really?”

Mallory smirked, running his hand down his face, “Let me know when he finds J.”

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