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

hellodropbear · 3 months ago

Text

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.

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 :)

#mapi leon #ingrid engen #mapi leon x ingrid engen #woso #woso fanfics #barca femeni #fcb femení #woso imagine

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bruhnze · 3 months ago

Text

Apple tarts and tiramisu - Part 9

Summary ''Apple tarts and tiramisu'': Lucy just moved to Barcelona, you offer to teach her Spanish. Reader gets into a relationship with Lucy Bronze who she met while she served her an apple tart.

Other parts: masterlist

SMUT - MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 6k, decided to put the rest of the story in part 10.

Thank you for the ideas: anon, lb2-supporter, anon

Apple tarts and tiramisu - Part 9

October and November had been good months. You had took up going to the gym quite seriously and with yfs/n as your self-claimed coach, you were actually starting to get lean, you never had been really chubby but you just didn’t have any muscle, but right now your muscles were getting way more definition and you scolded yourself for not excepting your best friends advise earlier.

The coffee shop and bakery had had more customers and your mother had even been in the newspaper with her pastries.

Lucy had had her birthday just before her family had come and you had spent a lovely day and a half together at a beach house just outside Barcelona with Narla. It had been a tight schedule so unfortunately you had not been able to plan it as a surprise and Lucy had insisted on paying when you were booking but in the end you had persuaded her by saying that it would be her present.

But of course that wasn't just it, you had bought some presents and your parents had also written a card for her which you had taken with you and of course your mother had baked a cake which you took with you.

The trip had been amazing.

The meeting with Lucy's family went perfectly, you got complimented on your English and you actually got along really well with everyone.

Lucy hadn't like it when you and Jorge, Lucy's brother, had been a team together in a game. Lucy's father and she were a team and Jorge's wife and Lucy's mother were a team. The children were already in bed but it got louder and louder as the game went on, when Jorge and you celebrated that you almost won with a certain set Lucy said so loudly ´´no´´ ´´not at all´´ ´´just wait´´ that her nephew came in with his cuddly toy to ask what was going on.

The group had laughed and Jorge had taken him on his lap: "You can watch how aunt y/n and I are going to beat up aunt Lucy."

One evening during their stay you had a dinner at your parents’ with the whole group. Your father had talked to Joaquin the whole evening, which went surprisingly well, he spoke in Spanish and Lucy's father in Portuguese.

Diane and Jorge's wife had been in the kitchen with your mother the whole time, helping her with the food, and they had given her so many compliments that you were sure your mother would love to have them visit more often.

Dessert had been tiramisu, of course, and you and Lucy had told the story of your meeting together and your first date.

Now it was December, just before everyone went to their families for Christmas, Lucy's club wanted to celebrate it together.

You had seen her teammates a few times now, after matches you had attended and once when you went with her when she had a media event at the club after which you were going to eat at friends of yours, so it had been more efficient to come along right away.

Mapi and Ingrid had once visited the coffee shop with Lucy.

Mariona, or Mario, as Lucy calls her, had once eaten at your house. Mariona had a girlfriend in England, Lucy had told her and when he was in Spain 'Mario' had invited you to eat at her house.

There had also once been a dinner at Paños' house, her name was Sandra but Lucy called her Paños. It had been very nice and Paños' girlfriend was there too.

The one you saw most often was Kiera, she was super nice, when you had dropped off the dog with Lucy on a Monday a few weeks back, she had invited you two in and for tea with her and her girlfriend, Laura.

Everyone you had properly met had been nothing but nice to you, but you still felt a bit nervous to formally meet the whole team.

The dinner was planned to be in the Barca complex itself and all the players and staff were invited with their partners.

Lucy had texted you if you were ready a while ago, even though you hadn’t been completely ready you had said you were, as you knew it always took her some time to get to your house when she came with her car. It was way quicker to walk the distance between your apartments then to drive, but as you two had to go somewhere, there was no other option then to go by car.

You had gone for an elegant black dress and wore tights underneath that were a bit thicker then the ones you wore teaching. When you were standing outside with your coat and your bag ready for Lucy you were happy with your choice because it was very chilly.

You were just about to call her when you saw her black car turn the corner.

She stopped and when you wanted to walk to the car to open the door but she shook her head no and she got out to quickly open the door for you.

Lucy had been doing this the whole time, you had been together for three months now, but it seemed like you were falling more and more in love.

''good evening beautiful'' Lucy said as she held the door open for you.

Lucy was wearing black suit pants with a crisp white blouse, it was wrinkle-free, probably because it was a new one, cause you were sure Lucy had never heard of properly ironed.

You gave her a kiss ‘’you look hot’’ you said as you climbed in the car.

‘’you look cold’’ she chuckled before closing your door.

When she sat back in the car you replied ‘’it is cold, I can’t grasp the fact you’re walking here in a blouse’’.

‘’my jacket hangs in the back, can’t have it wrinkled’’ she looked at you ‘’you know I’m part English right, I don’t like the cold, but I can deal with it’’.

‘’since when are you so concerned about wrinkles’’ you laugh ‘’you don’t even own an iron’’.

‘’it’s a special occasion’’.

‘’pre-Christmas dinner?’’.

‘’yeah, and everyone meeting you, I cant look like a potato bag, people wouldn’t understand how I bagged you’’ she grinned.

‘’bagged me’’ you reply repeating her words slowly.

‘’well, yeah, uhm you know, got you to date me’’

‘’oh!’’ you chuckle, you knew what she had meant ‘’I know, I just thought it was the other way around, I bagged you’’.

Lucy looked away from the road a second to look at you with disbelieve.

‘’I offered you Spanish lessons’’ you refreshed her memory.

‘’I took your phone number to actually set it up and changed it to a dinner’’.

You sighed not knowing how to fire back.

Lucy put her hand on your thigh and rubbed her thumb along the covered skin ‘’it’s okay baby’’ you could hear in her voice she was grinning ‘’you’re my little princess’’.

‘’I said I love you first’’ you pouted.

‘’on accident’’ Lucy laughed.

‘’yeah but after that I said it again because you wanted me to say it first’’.

‘’because I asked you to be my girlfriend that night and I was a bit nervous’’. ‘’I bagged you and I’m the one punching’’ Lucy stated as if that was the end of it.

You frowned ‘’punching?’’ ‘’what is with your weird English, I get bagged but what do you mean with punching’’.

Lucy chuckled and caressed your knee ‘’just agree bub, it’s true anyways’’.

‘’no’’ you said as you grabbed Lucy’s phone and searched it up in Google

In relationships, “punching” describes someone dating out of their league. The phrase is most commonly used in the UK but has recently been picked up more widely thanks to reality TV.

‘’what the- Luce, you can’t possibly say I’m out of your league’’ you chuckled ‘’or you mean I’m punching’’.

''I don't know, every time I blink you look better and better, I just get wrinkles''.

''good thing I have a thing for old people'' you chuckle, knowing Lucy hates to get called old.

You watch her face as you see her jaw drop and she huffed out some air ‘’you can’t say that’’.

‘’you asked for it gr-’’ you grinned widely at her knowing she doesn’t like the name that will follow next.

She looked at you ‘’don’t you dare!’’ she said as she squeezed your leg.

‘’what?’’ you chuckled ‘’don’t worry, you’re the hottest granny I know’’.

‘’oh y/n you’re in deep shit’’.

‘’don’t beat me up because you’re punching’’ you chuckled at your pun.

She shook her head suppressing a laugh.

‘’come on Luce, you are hot, sexy, smart, the best footballer, ofcourse they understand you can get every girl, even though I don’t agree that I’m hotter then you, but there are literally maybe a hundred hot as fuck woman who would want to ‘get bagged’ by the Lucy Bronze’’ you say rubbing her leg ‘’why the insecurity all of a sudden?’’.

Lucy swallowed ‘’I don’t know, I have never introduced someone to the team’’.

‘’I’m nervous too, but it’ll be allright, right?’’.

Lucy sat a bit straighter up and took you hand from her leg to hold it ‘’god I’m an idiot, I haven’t even asked you how you feel’’.

‘’yeah well, I know a few people a little bit, but I don’t know most.. and meeting new people is always a bit.. nerve wracking.. especially your partner's colleagues’’.

''they'll love you'' ''and you look so beautiful baby'' Lucy said as she caressed your fingers with her thumb.

‘’will you stay by my side?’’ you ask carefully.

‘’ofcourse’’ Lucy nodded abundantly ‘’I’ll introduce you to everyone’’.

Lucy brought your hand to her mouth and pressed a few kisses to it ‘’and thank you for coming with me, I love you’’.

‘’I love you too Luce’’ you said as you leaned over to kiss her jaw ‘’I’ll always come with you’’.

You walked into the dining hall on Lucy's arm. Lucy had a hard time finding a spot for the car because she wanted to park near the door for you, every spot there was already taken, but in the end it worked out and the two of you hadn´t parked too far away.

First there would be a reception with drinks, but in about fifty minutes the food would already be served. A lot of people were there already, since the reception actually lasted two hours, but Lucy had said that Alexia had told her that the first hour was more something for the staff and was often a bit boring.

Speaking of Alexia, she came in with you and Lucy at the same time. You had greated Alexia and Olga, her girlfriend and the four of you were now doing a round of greeting Lucy and Alexia's teammates and Lucy introduced you to a few staff members too, like a physio guy that she had mentioned a few times at home.

After a while of sipping drinks and small talk someone, the head of Barcelona Femení, as Lucy filled you in, clinged a glass with his ring and announced that dinner would be served soon and asked everyone to start taking a seat at the long dinner table.

Alexia came up to Lucy and you heard her quietly ask if the two of you could join them because Olga wanted to sit next to you because she had learned you were a teacher too.

Lucy nudged you with her to follow Alexia and softly said to you that Alexia's girlfriend was interested to be friends with you.

Now you were seated next to Olga and Lucy, opposite was a woman who called herself Patri and next to her was Pina, a woman who was also on the team but Lucy had told you they were dating but keeping it quite low-key.

You had learned there were quite a few couples on the team, some were very open about it, like Mapi and Ingrid, who had visited the shop and you had followed them on social media after, seeing the had a few posts posing together. Other couples were only obvious if you knew, like Caroline and Marta or like the couple infront of you, Patri and Pina. But you knew as no other that the Spanish could be very touchy with eachother, so if you hadn't been told about the couples you would've probably never thought anything special about their interactions.

It is actually pretty fun at your section of the table, funny stories are shared, jokes are made but eventually the conversation inevitably turns to football. At that moment Olga and you start talking about teaching, you learn that she is a primary school teacher and you explain that you were an English teacher at a secondary school but since you stopped doing that you teach different ages English as a side job next to working at your moms coffee shop.

The topic went from teaching to dating an athlete, and just when Olga offered to exchange numbers to contact eachother to sit together in the stands next game, the table got louder.

''I just want to show her around''. Lucy said while laughing hard.

''Sure'' Pina laughed.

''I am going to show Pina the lockers too after dinner'' Patri chuckled.

''She already knows the way'' Alexia tuned in. ''I showed Olga around here too when we started dating''.

''Yeah'' Pina chuckled ''and it took multiple times appearently, i have seen you take her-

''Pina!''. Alexia scolded ''tanca la puta boca''. (shut the fuck up)

''Ale'' Olga said with wide eyes as she slapt her girlfriends arm.

''She was saying crazy stuff babe'' Alexia offered as she shot a murdering glance across the room ''algunes persones volen córrer moltes voltes després de les vacances de Nadal'' (some people want to run a lot of laps after Cristmas break).

''No-'' Pina said ''i'm sorry capi, we were joking''.

''What would y/n think of us right now, hm? pensa en el nostre nou convidats i sigues respectuós amb la Lucía i amb ella''. (think about our new guests and be respectful to Lucia and her).

You chuckled as the pair across from you got scolded.

Lucy tapped your leg ''What did she say?'' she whispered.

You whisper back ''Ale says Pina and Patri are going to run laps if they keep disrespecting people''.

Lucy chuckled.

''Anyways'' Ale says ''Olga and i will go with you Luce and y/n''.

''We want to come too''. Pina pouted.

''Bé'' (fine) Alexia shrugged.

''Nah Pin''. Patri said ''they're boring thirty year-olds, let's annoy Vicky and Salma after this''.

''No way y/n is 30'', Pina said ''quants anys tens?''. (how old are you anyways?)

''I'm 25'' you reply in English ''Sé que estic sortint amb un dinosaure, oi?'' you added in quick Catalan, chuckling. (i know im dating a dinosaur right?).

''Did you just call me a dinosaur?!''. Lucy said laughingly but offended.

''Uh nooo'' you say innocently ''i said i'm not a dinosaur''. you couldn't surpress your smile.

''Ale?''. Lucy tried as she leaned on the table to get Alexia's attention ''what did she say?''.

''No Lucia,'' Alexia chuckled ''i'm not getting inbetween you two, this is motivation for your language lessons''.

At the mean time Patri and Pina were laughing their heads off opposite of you and Olga was also quietly chuckling.

''Mkay'' Lucy sighed ''you are lucky you're cute'', she said while squeezing your thigh.

You looked away from smiling at Lucy to face the two women who were now making gagging noices.

''So down bad'' Pina chuckled, making Patri laugh even harder.

/Ding-ding-ding/ the offical took the floor again and announced that they had the fun idea to change seats again for dessert to have a chance talk to some other people.

Lucy pulled you along to Oshoala, Ingrid, Mapi, Cata and Frido.

''Heyy'' Mapi said as she took a chair out for you ''pastrie girl and her worshipper''.

You chuckled but Lucy didn't laugh as she got back with a chair ''shut it xerrameca''. (blabbermouth).

''Ey Catalan!''. you laugh.

''What she meant is -hi y/n-'', Ingrid corrected her girlfriend ''and hi Lucy''.

Oshoala chuckled ''No Maria is right, Lucy is so down bad for you, i assume you are the girl she sends all those selfies to hm?''. She said as she stuck out her hand ''hi, i'm Asisat''.

You stuck out your own hand to shake it ''i'm y/n''. but Oshoala didn't shake your hand, instead she brought it to her mouth to kiss the back of your hand.

''Allright Oshoala that's enough'' Lucy grumbled in a lightharded way.

Mapi sighed ''you have to start hitting on girls that are not taken'' she said as she rubbed ingrids thigh.

''Ah Maria, she's just being nice''. Ingrid chuckled.

''No!'' Lucy and Mapi said at same time, making you chuckle aswell.

''Yeah i'm just being nice'' Oshoala chuckled cheeckily.

''We have to find you a girlfriend then'' you said tapping Oshoala's shoulder.

Oshoala grinned ''yeah, do you have any pretty friends?''.

''No sadly all of them are taken or straight'' you chuckled ''don't you have like fans or something?''.

''Nahhh'' Oshoala laughed ''you can't date fans''.

You looked at Lucy who was nodding in agreement ''it's a bit weird'' she offered as she looked at your curious face.

''Why?''. you asked ''is that why there is so much dating within the team'' you grinned ''or is that because you guys have such difficult schedules''.

''Both'' Cata and Frido said, breaking the silence they had kept until now.

''I can't understand-'' you stopped yourself ''uhm''. and got quiet.

''Go on'' Mapi chuckled ''we can handle it, Oshoala has the biggest ego but she'll manage, what did you want to say?''.

''We love when people are honest to us'' Cata added.

Frido laughed ''did you want to make fun of us?''.

''No, no, god no, i was just thinking, like, everyone is just a person right, only difference is you guys are good at playing football, and that became your job, but everyone has something like that, like a talent''.

''I can see why you love her'' Ingrid said, turning to Lucy.

You turned to Lucy aswell and saw her looking at you smiling, you blushed a little ''sorry, maybe i should be more like'' you turned back again and mimicked a fan girl ''omg! im at the table with Asisat Oshoala''. choosing her name after Mapi had joked she had the biggest ego.

''See i kinda like that'' Oshoala grinned, deserving a slap from Lucy.

''I advise you to never fuck a fan'' Mapi grinned.

-Sorry- you mouthed to Lucy who looked at you with narrowed eyes.

At that Lucy smiled again.

''But why Maria?'' Cata asked ''i haven't heared that story''.

After Ingrid had shrugged Mapi enlightend the table with her detailed story.

A couple of very funny story's and one dessert later everyone scattered back to the section of the hall that the evening had started.

Everyone went around sipping drinks and changing conversation partners, and the two of you went around the room without Lucy ever leaving your side.

After about an hour Olga and Alexia joined you again.

''Ready for that tour'', Alexia asked Lucy.

Lucy looked at you, ´´ýeah ofcourse, excited to see where you guys work´´, you smile.

''It's nothing special'', Olga whispered to you as the two of you followed your girlfriends, ''just nod and be excited at every little thing, oh and definitly ask about the gym machines''.

You chuckled ''is Alexia just as gym-obsessed as Lucy is?''.

''I don't know how obsessed Lucia is with it, but Ale lives and breathes the gym'', Olga chuckled.

Lucy turned around ''what are you guys chatting about?'', she asked with a curious smile, making Alexia turn around too.

''Y/n says you like the gym as much as Ale does, or actually, we couldn't really come to an agreement because we don't know how much you guys-

''I squat way more'', Alexia scolds.

Lucy rolled her eyes, ''i bench twice as much as you''.

''i- Alexia thought about a comeback.

''leave it Ale, don't embarrass yourself'', Lucy grinned.

Alexia frowned and looked at Olga, then at you, before looking back at Lucy ''lets start our tour at the gym then''.

''This is how you do that'' Olga whispered, ''you're about to experience the best private show ever''. and quickly hopped to catch up with her girlfriend.

Lucy grinned as she swatted an arm around you when you had catched up with her, ''Don't make fun of Ale too hard later, i'm about to emberrass her big time''.

''Hm i don't know'', you tease, squeezing her bicep, ''she looks pretty strong too, and Olga said she's in the gym a lot''.

''Oh yeah'' Lucy grumbled, ''why don't you go touch her biceps then, if they're so much better''.

You kissed her neck softly before whispering in her ear, ''i said pretty strong, not as strong as you Luce, you're the strongest''. After one more peck you said, ''no bicep could beat yours''.

''Lucia!'', Alexia called out, ''stop drooling and get over here''.

Lucy grinned, keeping the same slow pace to walk down to the backdoor.

''Your not scared, are you?'', Alexia prevoked, ''feble'' (weakling).

Lucy narrowed her eyes, ''what did she call me''.

''She called you weak'' you chuckled, farely enjoying this theater.

The four of you ended up in the other building, now standing in a hall with various gym equipement. Conveniently enough Alexia had a master key to the complex, being the Captain she could enter all the Barca buildings. You had praised her how cool it was after the woman had mentioned it for the third time, which resulted in a laugh and a wink from Olga.

Olga and you now shared an inside joke about how easily the athletes could get riled up by a few strategic comments, or on the other hand completely blossom, with just a few praises.

Alexia and Lucy put some weights on a iron bar, ''you first'', Alexia commanded, ''we'll up the weight until one fails''.

''We're benching after this'', Lucy said without leaving room for discussion.

Alexia sighed ''okay, sí''. ''but pushups after''.

''Fair'', Lucy shrugged, ''three competitions so no chance of a draw''.

''I don't care, 1-0, 2-0 or 3-0, it's never a un empat'' (a draw) Alexia grinned, ''you just gave me more to beat you in''.

''Yeah keep talking big Putellas, or maybe let's see what those chicken arms are worth first''.

''Ohhh Bronze! just so you know, if you're not tall enough to reach the bar, the point also goes to me''.

''You're the same heigth as me!''.

Alexia chuckled, ''oh no, i am 173 and you are 171''.

''Oh so you're obsessed with me?'', Lucy grinned, ''want me to write you an autograph?''.

Alexia grinned back ''I might give you mine when i've beat you'', she turned around to look at you ''and ofcourse y/n will get one too''.

Lucy put her hand over Alexia's eyes and turned her to the bench, ''you wanted me to go first hm? watch me ace this than''.

You couldn't decide if it looked more hot or more rediculous, the dressed up women glistening with sweat as they riled eachother up and had kept upping the weights again and again, even making you fear for their backs at one point.

Alexia had won the squatting, Lucy the benching, now it was time for some push-ups.

Lucy was a sight, she had thrown her jacket on one of the weight racks at the moment they had entered this room but after one set of squatting she had also rolled up her sleeves. When they had moved on to benching she had undone the top 2 buttons of her blouse, giving you a perfect view of her necklaces on her clammy skin.

Just like you, Olga was also eating this show up, her eyes hadn't left her girlfriend once.

You got pulled from your thoughts as you heared her whisper something to you ''tindré un bon sexe aquesta nit''. (i'm going to have such good sex tonight).

With a couple of blinks you looked up at her, sceptical if you had heared her right.

''I like it the most when they lose a game'', Olga confided to you quietly, ''but never tell Ale''.

You chuckled but attention got pulled away by grunts you knew all to well.

''47-48-49, babe you're looking right, 50,51'' Lucy grunted.

''Ofcourse, you're doing so good'' you swooned ''let's go Bronzey''.

''Yeah Bronzey'' Alexia mocked, ''go on until you get tired, are your arms tired?''.

''67-68-69''. with that Lucy sat up, ''that's a good number to stop on, i want to leave some energy in my arms and ofcourse give you atleast a little chance to beat me'', with that last she slapped Alexia's shoulder, ''your turn beanstalk''.

''the what?''.

Lucy grinned, ''don't worry about it, get on the floor''.

''beanstack?'', Alexia muttered as she got on the floor.

You can't help but comment, ''she called you tall''.

Alexia looked up and grinned, ''ah, ofcourse, thank you Lucía, now count for me''.

''No'' Lucy frowned ''i counted myself!''.

''We never said you had too'', Alexia looked at Olga ''you count for me babe?''.

''Ofcourse'' Olga purred, ''should i start at 70 and count down''.

''hm'', Alexia said as her grin grew impossibly bigger, ''yeah start at 71 for me guapa''.

At 36 she started shaking, you couldn't countain your chuckling when she almost couldn't push herself up anymore at 31 and slapped your hand infront of your mouth.

Lucy shot a smug wink at you. ''Struggeling Putellas?''.

''N-n-no'' She groaned, ''30 to go''.

''You can stop to safe your arms'', Olga offered as she eyed her trembling girlfriend.

''keep c-counting babe'' Alexia said, barely getting the words out.

After one more push-up she collapsed on the ground.

''Ayyeee'', Lucy screetched ''kiss for the winning lady?'' she asked looking at you.

''Ofcourse'' you grinned, being weirdly proud at your girlfriend, and walked towards her.

''and another reward later'' you whispered quietly in her ear before kissing her.

''Fuck'' you moaned as Lucy pinned you against the mattress.

She hummed as she littered your neck and chest with kisses and tender bites.

''I was rewarding you right'' you said, chuckling when she reached a ticklish spot.

She sat up, her hips straddling yours, ''oh but this is a reward'' she groaned, reaching down to massage your boobs.

Your hands closed around her wrists, trying to keep her hands on you.

Gently she started rocking against you, you saw her brows furrow lightly as she grinded down, positioning herself exactly against your clit.

''Get my panties off'', you sigh desperatly, wanting to feel all of her against you, ''and yours too''.

She quickly helped you out of them and then shuffled her own briefs clumsily down her legs, before throwing them besides the bed and climbing back on top of you.

You cup the back of her neck to pull her in for another kiss.

Softly she took your bottom lip in between her teeth and getly tugged on it before releasing it and going in for the kiss.

During the slow make out she tentatively started moving her hips again.

When a small moan of yours escaped in to her mouth she pulled back to look at you, ''does this feel good?'' she carefully asked.

''mhm'' you said, closing your eyes to focus even better on the way your bodies were melting together.

''Good'' she said as she kept looking at your face while gently steering your limbs in a little more open position.

Your eyes shot open again when you could feel even more of her, hear even more of her.

''Still good?''.

You groan as she kept rutting against you, or rather, along you.

Her face was adorable, holding so much concentration as she moved in a way that make the both of you feel amazing.

''Fuck'', she breathes out ''i'm going to cum like this'' she said as she increased her pace.

You reach up to touch her breasts, stimulating her nipples. ''You feel so good Luce, keep going''.

She groaned.

''Come against me''.

Another groan.

''You looked so hot beating her in the gym, you're so fucking strong''.

Lucy's head dropped in her neck, her chin pointing to the ceiling.

''I couldn't take my eyes off of you''.

''Lifting weights in your blouse''.

''You're so sexy''.

With that Lucy came, she panted hard as she rode herself through her high against you, slowely coming to a stop and plopping on the bed, laying besides you.

''Fuck'', she gasped as her chest was heaving up and down, ''you didn't-

''Sshh'' you chuckled, ''that was amazing''.

After a few minutes of stroking eachothers skin, Lucy seemed to have come back down to the here and now and started kissing you again.

It started fairly soft and slow, but her intentions quickly revealed as she worked her way down your body sloppily.

You moaned hard as she flattened her tongue to your core.

She looked up at you from between your legs, a sight you loved to see.

She stared intensely at you while she was working her mouth and brought two fingers up, gently pushing them inside you.

When your jaw slacked and your eyes rolled she knew she found the right spot, your head dropped on the pillow as you felt your orgasm approaching again.

It didn't take long for you to come undone.

When she helped you through it, you felt in complete ecstasy.

Only when it became too much did you gently push her away.

You smiled at her when she crawled on top of you to reach for a kiss.

With two hands you reached up to frame her face, she kissed the palm of one of your hands and you felt the clammy skin of her chin.

''Was that first thing we did okay?'', she asked hesitantly.

You looked at her slightly confused, ''yeah it felt really good, we should do that more often'' you say, petting her face.

''But you didn't-

You chuckled, making her frown.

''what?''.

''Oh Luce'', you laugh ''is this the first time that happened to you or something?''.

''maybe, i just..

''it felt really good'', you say ''and it was our first time doing that Luce''.

''i came too fast''.

''i take that as a compliment actually'' you chuckled, ''and it was your reward after all'' you say, moving your hands from her face to her shoulders to end at her biceps.

''Hmmm'' Lucy groaned, ''i guess it was'' she said as leaned in to kiss you.

...

It was a couple of days later, the Christmas days had been spent with the Bronze's family visiting Barcelona.

Your family's had meet up again and there had been eaten a lot of good food.

Lucy had opened up her apartment for her family again, just like last time, only this time her nephew did spent a night sleeping over at yours.

It had been really cute seeing Lucy with the kids, although she was a bit of a rough wrestler with them, she was always gentle.

Now it was time for your annual new years trip. You had the tradition to spent Christmas with the family and new years with the friends.

Often years it had just been celebrated at the friend with the biggest house, but in recent years it had grown out to a 3-day trip in a rented air-bnb.

As soon as Lucy had heared about it she'd agreed to come, excited to join your friends along your side, knowing you had never had a new years kiss before.

''but what are the vibesss'', Lucy whined, hovering over her empty suitcase.

You were at her place, your suitcase was packed and ready, laying in the trunk of your car.

Right now you were helping Lucy pack, you were at Lucy's to sleep there and the next morning you'd drop off Narla at Keira's, who just got back from England, and then the two of you had a 3 hour drive to the rented property.

A few friends had already arrived today, inspecting the place and setting everything up.

They'd sent pictures, it was a cute house, pretty big, enough rooms for everyone.

Everyone of the friendgroup had a partner now, even your bestfriend, yfs/n, she had started dating a guy recently, you thought he was nice but you didn't really have a connection with the man. Lucy on the other hand, she had spent hours talking with him at the dinners either your bestfriend or you had hosted. It worked out perfectly for double dates, you had yfs/n and Lucy could talk to Marc.

''Why are you so hessitant'' you chuckled rubbing her back, ''booze and games, the vibes are booze and games i think, and sweaters, pack enough clothes because it is cold''.

''How is the sleeping situation?'' Lucy asked as she turned around and pulled you against her, ''d'we get any privacy?''.

You grinned ''it's just 3 days, everyone sleeps next to eachother in one long dormitory'' ''oh, did i mention bunkbeds''.

Lucy groaned, ''why do i love you so much that i do this happily for you''.

You bursted out in laughing ''no we have our own rooms with regular double beds, every couple has an own room, that's why we have to drive a bit further this year, Ale searched the best house''.

''Hmm'' Lucy hummed kissing your neck ''great''.

''We have to pack your bag Luce'' you groan as she licks along your sensitive skin.

''Our last private night'' she said inbetween kisses, ''might aswell make the best of it''.

''I just told you we have our own room'', you chuckled.

She slightly pulled away from you and you saw a dumb smile on her face ''i don't know, if the walls are thin i ain't doing anything'', she grinned ''you have a hard time keeping quiet sometimes''.

''I'm sure you can think of a way to keep me quiet'' you say while a small blush crept on you cheeks.

''No way'', ''what if yfs/n is in the room next to us''.

You shrugged ''it's not like she wouldn't- you stopped yourself, ''yeah we'll manage not doing anything for three days right'' you hurried to say.

''What?'' Lucy said chuckling

''Nothing'' you say, trying to distract her with a kiss.

''No i'm thinking you we're about to say she already knows what you sound like''.

Your eyes screwed shut and you quickly shook your head, ''No, ew''.

''Well go on then'', she urged.

''It's just that we tell eachother everything'' you say carefully, ''i was going to say, it's not like she wouldn't know the cause of what she'd hear'' you blushed furiously.

Lucy cringed a bit but chuckled ''are you sharing our private life with her?''.

''Sorry'' you say grimacing, ''it was just our habit and-

''For me it's Jordan'' Lucy stated, making you look up.

You looked at her questioning.

''-the person i overshare with'' Lucy chuckled, ''ofcourse you have someone you share everything with, it's good, i just- '', she chuckled, ''maybe i should've known about it sooner''.

''Why?''.

''Cus it's a bit akward isn't it?'' Lucy smiled, ''does she tell you about Marc and her too?''.

''yes'' you say scruncing your nose.

#woso smut #lucy bronze smut #woso fanfics #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #woso #woso imagine #ona batlle smut #lucy bronze x ona batlle

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secondhand-snow · 9 months ago

Text

a body of impulses

chapter 3: letting love devour

lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)

★chapter 2★

wc: 8.4k+

warnings: dysfunctional family, swearing, fluff, smut, age gaps, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, virginity loss, vaginal sex, making out, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), corruption kink, aftercare, no use of y/n

summary: After Italy, things are hard. Your family is divided, your life is disordered, your brain is on fire. Lukas knows you better than yourself, and proves it by repairing your sanity in a way only he can.

author's note: here's a nice little fluffy chapter for you after our last installment! hope you enjoy, it was so fun to write ♡ please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

The past few months have been hard, to say the least. The day of Caroline’s wedding was like a bomb had been dropped on your family. Logan wanted to sell to GoJo, and no matter what your siblings did, they couldn't change his mind. They felt betrayed, he felt discredited, and the whole thing ended up in flames. After that night, you didn’t have the energy to reach out to your siblings. They continued messaging you, half accusing, half blaming, you left their messages unopened. Except for Kendall, who you responded to in order to gain more information on his hospital visit. When you were satisfied he was okay, he got the silent treatment as well.

Worse than the bomb was the fallout. You left Italy alone the day after the wedding. Logan stayed in Italy for a while, his loyal executives staying by his side. You aren’t sure what your siblings ended up doing, you only know that Tom flew back alone as well. When you get back to New York, you throw yourself into your work. You get to the office at 6 in the morning, you leave at 10 at night, you never take lunch breaks. It’s the only thing that keeps your mind occupied. You barely sleep, you barely eat, you barely speak.

The rhythm finally ends with Lukas. Everything always ends with Lukas. He knows you’ve been struggling, knows how things ended with your family. Every night he begs you to take a break, get some sleep, and relax for the first time in over a month. You try to convince him you’re okay, that you're just busy with the deal and coping the best you can. He doesn’t believe you. Lukas keeps asking every night when you call. He offers to pay for a spa visit, a vacation, anything to get you out of the office. Like the money is what’s stopping you.

You play a game of cat and mouse, him chasing you and you denying him. It goes on for weeks. Until he doesn’t give you a choice.

“You’re coming to Sweden tomorrow.”

“Lukas… It’s 12 o’clock at night.”

“I’m sending my jet, your flight is 7am.” You roll over in your bed, moving from your back to prop yourself up on your elbows, eyebrows raising as he speaks. You were exhausted, just getting home from work an hour ago and getting into bed as quickly as possible, even if you couldn’t sleep.

“I have to work tomorrow, I can’t just ditch everything for a vacation.”

“They’ll survive without you for a few days.” He sighs, you hear fabric rustle like he’s leaned back onto where he’s sitting.

“I have so much to do…”

“You’re coming.”

“I can’t just go to Sweden on a whim!” Your voice isn’t really upset, just surprised and a little frustrated at the intrusion.

“It’s not on a whim, I planned it for you.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“I miss you. I want to see my girlfriend.”

You pause then, letting out a low sigh. Lukas always knows what to say to you, always knows how to get you to do what he wants.

“I miss you too.”

“I knew it.” You can hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks now. He knows he’s won.

“I tell you that every day, it’s not a new revelation.” Lukas laughs quietly on the other line, the sound bringing a shy smile to your face. “I don’t think this is a good idea though. If we went public without me telling my family first…”

“Then we won’t. We’ll be careful and stay private until it’s a good time. Nobody will know unless you want them to, I promise.”

“Okay. Okay, fine. I’ll come to see you. But you know I can’t stay long.”

“We’ll see.” He half-sings, and you’re glad he can’t see the grin on your face when you try to sound annoyed.

“Lukas!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hangs up before you can change your mind, leaving you staring at the bright screen of your phone in your otherwise dark apartment, an embarrassingly large grin on your face. You try falling back asleep that night, but don’t manage to get more than an hour or two before waking back up. It’s not the worst night of sleep you’ve gotten, and you needed to pack anyway. Sending a quick message to your assistant, you quickly cancel your plans for the week. You know you said a few days, but you also know Lukas can persuade you like no one else. So, at 7am sharp you find yourself seated on an unfamiliar jet, making excuses to try and influence yourself enough to leave, call off the trip and head back to the office. It doesn’t work.

Lukas’s Swedish house is everything you thought it would be. Just outside of Stockholm, the building was modern and luxurious, with a long driveway and tall fir trees keeping the property private. The mansion was made of stone and dark woods with huge glass windows. It was simple and quiet, while simultaneously being incredibly opulent. It’s so Lukas it almost made you laugh. You took in the landscape, peering out the window of the SUV you were sitting in. Lukas insisted on sending you his personal driver, not trusting anyone else to bring you here safely.

When the car finally rolled to a stop and you exited the vehicle only a few seconds passed before Lukas was running out the front door of his mansion towards you. He was shoeless, wearing a pair of plain sweatpants and a shirt, with his hair messy and arms open. The goofy look on his face and the gawky way he rushed towards you made you giggle, your lips parting into a beaming smile. When he reached you, his arms tucked under your armpits and scooped you up, your feet lifting from the ground as he held you close. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking your head into the top of his chest.

“You’re here!” His voice was slightly muffled from the way he had his lips pressed into your hair, but his tone was happy, maybe the happiest you’d ever heard him.

“I am. I finally made it.” Lukas set you back down onto your feet, dropping his arms around your waist before pulling you in for a soft kiss. You could feel his smile on your lips before you separated.

“Let me show you around.” He intertwines your fingers, presses his arm against yours playfully, and begins leading you into the house.

The inside is contemporary, filled with the highest end furniture and appliances that money can buy. It's minimalist and chic, and looks a little more lived in than Lukas’s Swiss villa. You recognize a few areas from the background of Facetimes and photos Lukas has sent you. The bookshelves in his office, the painting in his dining room, the mirrors in his home gym. It feels strangely nostalgic to see the spaces in real life, strangely like home. When you reach his bedroom you’re a bit surprised to see your luggage sitting there. The surprise quickly fades with the realization that he trusted you enough to share a space with you. Self-pride takes over your emotions, a small smile finding its way to your face.

“So, what do you have planned for me?” You release Lukas’s hand to walk over to his bed, sitting gracefully on the edge of it to look up at him.

“You’ll see.” He moves to stand closer to you, your knees brushing the front of his legs as he reaches out to run a hand through your hair.

“You really won’t tell me?”

“It’s a surprise!” His hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head up even further to look him in the eyes. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

“I am not a fan of surprises.” You raise your eyebrows at Lukas, making him snicker at the pouty look gracing your face.

“You’ll like this one.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

That shuts you up. You can’t argue with the statement, you both know it’s the truth. Lukas knows more about you than your own family. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable and stayed, a feat nobody else in the world can claim. The months you have spent with him feel like centuries, and you don’t think you can ever go back to how your life was without him.

The rest of that day consisted mainly of lounging around, getting used to time difference and catching up on the few things you hadn’t shared with your boyfriend already. You watched a movie on his couch, casually resting your head in his lap while he worked on his phone. Lukas wasn’t the biggest cuddler, but he did enjoy your small displays of affection. Dinner was spaghetti and wine, prepared by his personal chef since neither of you were great cooks. As the sun set, the pair of you found yourself outdoors, in Lukas’s hot tub.

Your hair pulled back so it wouldn’t get wet, his shirt off exposing a light scattering of blonde hair on his chest. You sat next to him in the water, your head laying lightly on his shoulder while your feet stretched out in front of you, slightly floating. For the first time in months, your brain was quiet and your surroundings were calm.

“Have you ever used your pool before?” Your head moves from its resting point you look up at Lukas, your brows furrowed in question.

“Of course. Do people do that?”

“You mean- buy a house and not use the features it comes with?” He nods. “Yeah, all the time. That’s like… a norm in old-money social circles.”

“Really?” His head tilts, a confused smirk coming over his lips.

“Really. Roman has a house in Puerto Rico he’s never even been to. Says its ‘just in case.’” You laugh candidly at the admission, your head falling back onto his shoulder as you realize just how odd it sounds.

“Just in case what?”

“I have no clue. You should ask him, he likes you.” Lukas just hums in response, a hand coming around your shoulders to hold you close to him. You stay that way for a minute, just breathing and being together. Eventually, you move from your position, his arm falling away as you shift to settle in front of him in the water, bending a bit at your hips to stay at his eye level, hands resting on his thighs as you lean your weight forward. It gives him a great view of your cleavage, which you immediately notice as his eyes drift down to your chest.

“Do you think this is weird?” You look up at Lukas through your lashes, his gaze moving back up to meet yours.

“What? Us?” You nod. “Yeah, a little.” He shrugs, his mouth forming an indifferent line.

“I just feel like we move so fast, like nobody else would really understand it if we told them.”

“Well they don’t have to understand it. Are you happy like this?”

“Very.”

“Then that’s what matters.” He reaches forward, grabbing onto your arms to pull you into his lap, straddling his hips as his hands move to cradle your ass. “ I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks. The media, our companies, your family- it’s all unimportant. I only care about you.”

You pause for a second at that, gnawing on your bottom lip as you look into Lukas’s eyes. Your arms move from resting at your sides to circle around the back of his neck.

“You’re serious about this? About our relationship? About me?” There’s no hesitation before he answers.

“Yes.” A soft smile comes to his lips. “I’m more serious about you than any other relationship I’ve been in, to be honest.”

Something in his eyes tells you that it’s the truth. There’s a tenderness there you haven’t seen before. His answer satisfies you enough to make you lean forward, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. Of course, he deepens it. You’ve learned that Lukas can never do something halfway, with him it’s always all or nothing. The realization calms you a bit, dulls your fears of manipulation and misuse. You almost can’t believe that someone would care for you as much as Lukas does, you think there must be an underlying reason. But it feels so good to be with him, the potential for damage is worth it.

When Lukas said he was planning everything for you, he wasn’t kidding. The following days of your trip are planned perfectly, with every fine detail figured out for you. You don’t have to make any decisions, just let yourself be led and take things as they come. Part of you loves it, part of you hates it. You go along with it despite your uncertainty.

The first day, you go on a spa trip. The entire building had been rented out for the two of you, a needed step to take for maintaining the privacy of your relationship. Lukas assures you the working staff have also signed NDAs, just to be safe. You spend hours in matching robes getting pampered with the finest and rarest ingredients in the world. The massage you get disposes of all the stress you’ve been carrying, leaving your back and shoulders feeling the best they have in months. You convince Lukas to get a facial, snapping a photo of his face with cucumber slices on his eyes and setting it as his contact photo in your phone. But more than that, you’re able to be in a semi-public place with your boyfriend and not hide the connection between you two. There’s no harm in pressing a wayward kiss to his lips, in holding his hand as you walk together. Your affection being unconfined in the open is more of a luxury than anything else you receive that day.

The day after that Lukas takes you on a hike. You haven’t had the time to get out in nature in so long, and he knows it. It’s only a short drive to the area, a gorgeous forest of towering trees and lush vegetation. You hadn’t brought active clothing with you, but luckily were able to obtain some via Lukas’s assistant in time for your activity. When you promise to repay Lukas for the money he spent on your outfit, he just scoffs and presses an affectionate kiss to your temple. The hike itself isn’t too hard, only 5 miles round trip with a few uphill treks. On the way Lukas takes the time to point out native plants to you, and you pretend to understand when he pronounces their names in Swedish. At the end you’re left with the view of a beautiful lake and acres of rolling green hills around it. You take a selfie to commemorate your experience, the image showing you smiling at the camera happily and Lukas stooping over to press a kiss to your cheek. You’re so tired at the end that you fall asleep on his shoulder on the drive back, his hand covering yours and blissful smiles on both your faces.

The third day, you stay at home. Lukas apologizes profusely that he can’t take you shopping in old town Stockholm, but knows it's too much of a risk for you to be seen together. Instead of a public outing, you camp out in his living room and spend the day watching your favorite movies. He brings out a horde of Swedish candy, making you try every single one no matter how strange they sound. Bilar ends up being your favorite, you finish an entire bag between the two of you. You show him your favorite childhood movie, cuddling into his shoulder on the couch as you look up at his reactions. He tells you about his favorite movies, the tv shows he loved growing up, the books he read in primary school. It feels familial and a little cutesy. It’s a nice break in the intensity of your relationship.

Later that night you look over at Lukas, stretched out on the couch as he watches the TV intently. You roll over onto your stomach, propping your upper body up on your elbows, bending your knees to hold your feet in the air.

“Tell me something about yourself.” His head turns to you, a slightly concerned look on his face.

“What do you want to know?” Lukas moves his attention fully to you, shifting his upper body in your direction. You pause, thinking for a second before responding.

“Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.” He takes a minute, head tilting to look at the ceiling as he thinks.

“I don’t know if I have one of those. I’m a pretty open person.” You give a small laugh at that. He mocks offense at your reaction, mouth opening wide and shoulders raising.

“That is so not true Lukas.”

“I tell people all sorts of things!”

“You calculate what you say though. Like- you tell people things to make them think you’re less threatening.” The smile on Lukas’s face makes you know you have him caught. “You only share what you know people can’t use against you.”

“You know me too well.” You smile at that, move to crawl over to him and roll over, putting your head on his lap, looking up into his eyes. Lukas threads his fingers through your hair, tilts his chin to return your gaze.

“Have you ever been like that with me?” He considers for a minute, eyebrows raising to accentuate the few wrinkles on his forehead.

“Maybe at first.” You nod. “But after I ate your pussy I stopped.” He laughs, a little smug. Your hand comes up to swat at his chest playfully.

“It’s weird seeing you talk to other people, though. Like a switch flips in your brain and all the sudden you’re this social mastermind.”

“Yeah…” Lukas lets out a small sigh, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip before he continues. “I guess I keep my guard up, it can be a little intense.”

“Intense is a good word. For both of us.”

“It is.”

“You really don’t have anything that you haven’t told anyone else? Anything at all?” You widen your eyes and pout your bottom lip.

“Let me think.” Lukas takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment. “I sent this girl my blood once.”

“What?”

“An ex of mine, I sent her frozen bricks of my blood. Like, these half-pint blood ice cubes.” You hesitate before responding, a genuine question in your voice.

“Why did you do that?”

“It was a joke at first. Then I just kept doing it. I don’t know- I just like being able to do that shit, you know? Like- having some power over her, even though we aren’t together.” He shrugs, averts his eyes from yours for a second before glancing back down as you speak.

“That’s pretty bad, Lukas.” Your tone is more lecturing than actually upset, like a teacher reprimanding a student for bad behavior.

“Yeah, yeah I know. You gonna break up with me?”

“Nah. I know people who have done worse.” You give him a little smile. “Who’s the ex?”

“My comms head. Her name’s Ebba.”

“Well that makes things complicated.” You laugh a little at the strangeness of the situation. Lukas sheepishly smiles.

“Yeah. You’ll probably end up meeting her at some point.”

“I don’t think I wanna meet her, honestly.”

“Because she’s my ex?”

“Yeah. I’d be jealous.” Lukas cracks a grin at that, but you're partially serious. You rise up from your spot in his lap, moving to sit so you face him, legs crossed in front of you. “For real! How come she gets your blood and I don’t?”

“You want my blood?” His eyebrows furrow, a genuinely surprised look spreading over his features.

“I dunno… maybe.” You blush a little at the strange admission and bring a hand up to push your hair back. “ I just want all of you.”

A cheeky smile returns to Lukas’s lips at the confession. “You’re almost as crazy as I am.”

You don’t respond to that, just move a hand to jokingly push him away. A move that causes Lukas to retaliate by bringing a hand to your chin and pulling you into a soft kiss. You huddle up together to finish the film, with him actually focused on the screen and yourself slowly drifting to sleep. When the movie finishes, you’re fast asleep, head resting gently on Lukas’s shoulder as quiet snores leave your mouth. You don’t see the smile that rests on Lukas’s mouth when he notices you. You don’t see the gentle kiss he presses to your forehead before he picks you up and carries you to bed for the night.

You wake up in the early hours of the morning, moonlight still shining through the large windows to illuminate the room in front of you. Your hair is spread out on the pillow like a circlet around your head. As you roll from your position lying on your back, the sleeping form of Lukas comes into your view. He’s on his side, facing you, with his eyes closed and shoulders rising with even, deep breaths. He looks so peaceful like this, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before. You reach out, your hand brushing his hair back off his forehead before falling to cup his cheek. You can’t help but lean in and press a sweet kiss to his temple.

Lukas stirs, when your hand falls away, a lighter sleeper than you realized. His eyelids flutter for a second as he wakes, then open to reveal sleepy eyes staring back at you. A small smile comes to his lips at the sight of you, his shoulders rolling a bit as he comes further into consciousness.

“You brought me up?” Your voice is quiet, still a bit hoarse from sleep when you speak. Lukas nods in response. A smile comes to your lips, one wide enough to show your teeth. Your hand comes up to his cheek again, the arm closest to the bed moving to prop your upper body up a bit as you lean into him. You kiss him, smile still on your mouth and he reciprocates with twice the force. His hand comes to your waist, pulling your body in close to him as he deepens the kiss, tongue tapping against your lips for permission.

You allow him entrance, his tongue moving to trace on the roof of your mouth as you let out a soft moan. Your hips tilt into his, pressing your mound to the growing bulge in his fleece pajama pants. The effect is instant, a delicious pressure against your clit that pulls a soft gasp from your throat. Lukas shifts your position, rolling onto his back and using the hand on your waist to pull you to a straddling seat on his lap. He’s still laying down, with you now supporting yourself with a hand to be almost crawling on top of him.

His pants his feet on the bed, allowing him to slowly roll his hips into yours, grinding you on on his bulge with the hands on your waist. You can’t help moving back from the kiss then, an involuntary moan leaving your mouth at the unexpected sensation. Lukas’s mouth moves to your neck, sucking a mark onto your skin before nipping hard enough to earn a small squeal from deep in your throat. You grind your hips into his again, moving back from your place on your hands to sit upright on Lukas’s lap. His lips follow you for a moment as you move before he drops his head back against the pillow, mouth open and breathing heavy.

Your hands move to Lukas’s chest, bracing yourself as you rock your hips into the hard outline of his cock. A muted hum rumbles through his chest at the feeling, his hands moving to grip your ass and encourage your movements. Your motions are a bit delicate, but your body responds all the same. The heat between your legs builds, shocks running down your thighs at the pressure on your clit. A steady stream of sighs fall from your mouth, a blush gracing your cheeks at the unrestrained showing of your pleasure. Your head falls back a bit, eyes shutting with heavy lids as your face is turned towards the ceiling.

“You’re so perfect.” Lukas briefly moves a hand from your hip to push himself into a seated position. His lips fall to your neck again, peppering you with small kisses and bites, then brushing against your ear. “You’re gorgeous like this, all needy and wanting.”

You can’t argue with that, your moans speaking for themselves. In response, you move to capture his mouth again in a passionate kiss, your sounds muffled against his skin. Lukas’s hands begin helping your movements, creating a steady rhythm of rolling and grinding. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. Your thighs shake with the pressure on your clit, but your core clenches around nothing, feeling terribly empty. You pull back from Lukas’s mouth as a truly desperate whimper leaves your lips.

“I want you.” The confession is breathless, your eyes heavily lidded and your chest rising and falling quickly.

“You have me.” He plants a kiss to your chin, your hand coming up to his jaw.

“No, I mean…” You sigh for a moment, heat creeping up your back at the strange embarrassment you feel. “I want you inside of me. I want you to fuck me.”

Lukas pauses at that, his head moving to look you deeply in the eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in your answer, him barely finishing his question before you respond. “Please, Lukas.”

He nods, a gentle smile on his lips as he leans back into you with a quick kiss. When you separate, he gently moves you off his hips. You land in a seated position, knees bent with feet planted on the bed and arms behind you to brace your back up off the bed. Lukas moves on top of you, slotting himself between your legs as he sits back on his knees. His fingers come to rub small circles on the exposed skin of your lower thighs.

“Can I take these off? And your panties?” His voice is low and thick with his accent, barely a whisper as he asks. You nod, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate the clothing removal. He leans into you, hands moving to the waistband of your casual shorts before slowly pulling them down. You lift your hips a bit, helping as Lukas eases the fabric down the curve of your ass. He moves back from between your legs as the garment moves down your thighs, quickly working them down to your ankles before discarding them completely. Your skin exposed, your body spread out beneath him, you instinctually move to press your knees together.

Lukas just chuckles lowly, a lopsided smirk on his lips as he gently presses your knees back apart. His fingers slowly move to the inside of your thighs, snaking closer to your core. His hands land right under the swell of your ass, cupping your sighs there as he bends to look at your slit. You’re embarrassingly wet, already so worked up after just a little dry humping. Gently, so gently, his thumb moves to part your folds, brushing gently against your clit and causing you to squirm under his touch.

“Shh, I know… I gotta make you cum at least once before you’re ready to take me.” He doesn’t move from his place between your legs, just directs his words up to you. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You give a small hum in acknowledgement, moving to let your back fall against the covers, a pillow under your head to allow you to continue watching Lukas. His movements are slow, borderline teasing as he begins his work. A finger comes to your clit, beginning to toy with it in small circles. The effect is instant, growing the heat between your legs at a pace that never fails to amaze you. Gradually, Lukas’s movements increase, both in pressure and speed. Your chest heaves as the gasps leaving your throat grow louder and louder. You’re so lost in the pleasure, don’t even realize your hips are bucking against his touch until Matsson’s hand migrates to push your pelvis back against the bed, anchoring you in place.

His thumb remains on your clit, with his middle finger moving to gently prod against your entrance. Delicately, so delicately, his finger slides in. The movement is easy, no stretching against his width, though his finger is longer than you’ve had before, tapping further back in your cunt than your own fingers ever have. It feels divine to finally have something to clench down on, your silk walls tightening against his digit as he stimulates your clit. You’re already content with the feeling of being full, well, fuller than you’ve been before. But then, Lukas moves. He crooks his finger up, gently beginning to thrust it back and forth into you.

The pad of his finger easily finds the spongy spot inside you, sending shock waves through your core. It’s only a few thrusts before you’re cumming, tension in your lower stomach finally peaking as your legs shake around Lukas. Your head rolls back, back arching up from the bed as a moan rips through your body. Lukas groans with you, fingers still moving as he fucks you through your orgasm. As your breathing regulates, you whine, a hand coming down to feebly push him away.

“Good girl… Come on, give me one more.” Lukas’s voice is a low growl as he speaks, slowing his motions while his eyes flick up to yours. “You can take it.”

His ring finger moves, slowly pressing in to join his middle finger deep in your pussy. This time, there’s a stretch. The wetness helps, slicking his skin enough to not provide too much resistance. Even so, there’s a slight stinging sensation between your thighs as you get used to the new feeling. Lukas’s two fingers are the widest thing you’ve taken so far, and he knows it, taking a moment to let you adjust before he begins moving again. A mewl escapes your lips as his fingers take a hook shape, the pressure you previously felt on your g-spot intensified by the extra weight.

Your hands grasp against the sheets near your hips, finding no purchase as the pleasure in your core begins to build again. When he brushes your clit again, you nearly pull away. The bundle of nerves is throbbing, hyper-sensitive from your first peak and incredibly responsive to Lukas’s touch. It’s almost too much, but it feels so good you lean into his pressure, hips gently rolling to meet his thrusts while he softly plays with your clit. Your fingers travel to the oversized t-shirt you wear, tangling in the fabric there, gently pulling in up to expose more of your stomach. Lukas’s hand on your hip moves up, exploring the new skin as he doubles his efforts on your pussy.

Gasps and faint moans fill the air as electric shocks run down your thighs. Soft words of “please” and “yes” leave your lips as you begin to reach your climax. What sends you over the edge is the feeling of Lukas’s nails as he gently rakes his fingers down your skin. The climax hits you like a wave, satisfaction running through your body with a heat that makes you gasp and whimper for more. Your eyes fall shut as you cum this time, hips moving against your will as your legs fall further open, limp with pleasure. You take time to catch your breath, leaving your eyes shut while you feel Lukas slowly withdraw his digits from you. It’s a strange feeling, being empty again, clenching around nothing in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The bed shifts as Lukas moves, sitting up to pull his shirt over his head. You open your eyes at the sound of fabric rustling, vision still heavily lidded. His muscles are toned, skin lightly tanned and blonde hair growing a pattern on his chest. Your gaze draws down to the small trail of hair below his navel, disappearing underneath the waistband of his pants. He notices you looking, giving you a goofy smirk before he moves to cover your body with his.

“How do you feel?” His face is close as he talks, gazing into you with his icy blue eyes. You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, giggly and blissed out as you respond.

“So good.” Your hands move to his chest, fingers lacing into his light hair as you gently stroke over his muscles. “Will you help me with my top?”

The grin on his face speaks for itself, his hands moving to pull the fabric of your shirt over your head, you helping by shifting your weight. When your chest is exposed, Lukas immediately palms your tits. He squeezes, gently rolls your nipples between his fingers, smirks at the way this causes you to moan. It’s not long before his mouth dips to press kisses along your collarbones, falling to your breasts before he takes a nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking on the skin. Your hand moves to his hair, gasping and arching your back to press yourself against him harder. He chuckles in response, the hum vibrating through your body.

“Lukas…” You don’t have to finish your sentence for him to know what you mean. Know what you’re asking for. He presses a parting kiss to your chest, just between your breasts. Lukas sits back on his legs before moving to stand off the bed, making quick work of his pants as he strips them down his legs. His cock springs up, tip already glistening wet with pre-cum as he approaches you again.

You bite your lower lip at the sight, half from anxiety, half from arousal. He moves between your thighs, sitting up on his knees as he wraps a hand around the base of his shaft. His other hand comes to your thigh, spreading your legs wider as he slots himself in the space between them. Lukas is so close to you now, the front of his thighs pressing against the bottom of yours. His cock hovers over your mound, hand moving to gently stroke up his length while he looks down at you. Your breath comes deep and measured. You don’t blink under his stare, don’t look away, just gaze back into his eyes with the same intensity.

Lukas moves slowly, bending at the waist, his hand traveling to brace himself as he covers your body in his. The kiss he presses to your lips is electric, sending sparks down your body and through your brain. You can feel his cock lightly grazing the skin of your stomach, the realization making you moan into Lukas’s mouth. He swallows the sound eagerly before separating your lips, almost as breathless as you.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

His position moves, back to sitting up on his thighs as he begins to guide his cock into you. The hand that was holding him up goes to one of your hands, intertwining your fingers and squeezing. You feel his tip against your entrance, smooth and hot and large. Little by little, he presses into you. The stretch is instant, a stinging pain that makes you inhale roughly and squeeze Lukas’s hand. It’s not unbearable, but it is uncomfortable. Your brows furrow, face pinched with the harsh feeling.

“Are you okay?” Lukas’s motion pauses for a moment, his mushroom tip almost fully inside of you.

“Yeah- just… keep going.” Your voice is quiet and breathless, tinged with discomfort.

“Okay, it’s okay. I have you.” He presses in further, fully sheathing his tip inside of you, a movement that causes a small groan to come from your mouth. “Good. Good girl. You’re doing so well.”

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t expect you to. Lukas waits a moment before continuing to press in, so slowly it almost feels tortuous. The worst of the stretch seems like it's over, the pain staying constant instead of increasing like it had been. Lukas’s cock is heavy inside of you, the feeling new and pleasing. You can feel his tip pressing against every ridge inside of you, further and further back. Before long you feel him press against your cervix, a sensation that makes you jolt, pulling back a bit from his form.

He frowns at that, squeezing your hand quickly before letting go to grab your hip. Lukas’s touch directs you to angle your pelvis differently, the movement causing his cock to sink further into your cunt. He barely has to press any further in before he bottoms out. His hand comes back to yours, the fingers that had been gripping his base moving to gently hold the outside of one of your thighs. You’re fuller than you’ve ever been before, and the pain between your thighs is slowly beginning to fade as he keeps himself fully sheathed inside of you.

“Wait- just stay for a second.” Lukas nods, face caring and solemn as he watches the expressions cross your face. Your brows unfurrow as the sting in your vulva subsides, a low sigh leaving you as your body relaxes into the bed beneath you.

“Okay?” He notices the change in your posture, hand on your thigh rubbing small circles into your soft skin.

“Fuck, yes. Move… please move Lukas.” Without the pain occupying your mind, you're able to focus on your other senses. He’s so close to you. His body is warm and strong and everything, everything, everything. Your clit is rubbing perfectly on his pubic bone with him fully inside you, your cunt feeling so full you swear you might implode. It’s so good, but you need more, you think you’ll die if something doesn’t change soon.

Luckily, you don’t have to wait long. Lukas nods as he hears your request, softly pulling back until just his tip is left inside you before pushing back in. This time, he brushes that spot in you, the one that makes your vision go white and your toes curl. You moan low in your throat, earning a matching groan from Lukas as you involuntarily clench around his length. His thrusts steady, a gentle rhythm beginning as he starts to really fuck you.

The pleasure in your lower stomach builds as he moves, your hips starting to roll to meet him in time with his thrusts. Each motion grazes your g-spot, sending sparks of satisfaction through your body. He pants over you, deep groans leaving his mouth while he moves. His noises blend with your gasps and moans, filling the room with the sounds of depravity. Your free hand had been grasping at the sheets next to you ineffectually, now you moved it to squeeze one of your breasts, a sort of anchor as your body rocked with the motions of Lukas.

“Can you… harder?” Your sentence partially trails off as you gasp, barely getting out your question before another moan leaves your lips.

“Harder?” He confirms, strengthening his thrusts as you nod in response. The effect is powerful, his tip now hitting your g-spot with a force that makes your toes curl and voice whimper. You move instinctually, wrapping your legs around his torso, forcing him even deeper into your soaked cunt. Lukas’s hand on your thigh moves to your waist, gripping the skin there harder than he means to as he becomes lost in the change in sensation.

“God, yes. Please don’t stop.” You swear you hear him breathlessly chuckle at your pleading, but you're too lost in your own pleasure to be sure. The unmistakable sounds of skin slapping fills the room, nearly as loud as your noises of pleasure. His cock bullies that sensitive spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer to your peak.

“Fuck. You’re so tight for me.” Lukas’s voice is practically a growl as he speaks. You can only nod helplessly to show your understanding, too overwhelmed by sensation, too close to your climax, to muster any words. “All for me- you’re mine. You’re fucking mine.”

His words go straight to your core, a final push that makes you fall from your peak. Hard. It’s more intense than any orgasm you’ve experienced before, the pleasure white hot and blinding. Your thighs shake, back arches, eyes clamp chut, head rolls back. Lukas groans as you clench on his cock, squeezing him so hard his own head lulls back at the sensation. Your climax hits so hard you don’t even moan, just gasp and whine, letting the feeling roll over you in a wave. You aren’t sure how long you're stuck in this trance of pleasure, but when your eyes finally reopen your boyfriend isn’t far behind you.

Lukas’s thrusts have gotten erratic, pace stuttering and strength escalating as he chases his own release. He’s more vocal now, groaning and growling deep in his throat, little murmurs of praise coming from his lips. You can’t help but bite your lip at the sight. It’s not often you get to see Lukas Matsson desperate, there’s something gratifying in being the cause of his frenzy. His head is thrown back, his lips parted and panting, his Adam's apple bobbing with his heavy breaths. The entirety of his body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, his skin hot and muscle flexing with his efforts. He’s a picture of sexuality, just the sight of him like this making your heat throb with want.

It’s only a few moments after your climax that Lukas finds his. Thrusts faltering, he pushes himself deep into your cunt, cumming inside of you with a loud moan. His spend coats your insides, hot and wet inside of you, a feeling you haven’t experienced before. The sensation causes a quiet mewl to fall from your lips, the sound making him breathlessly chuckling above you. His head falls back forward. You roll your hips against his a bit, his cock beginning to soften inside of you after his heavy release. This draws his attention back to you, a blissful smile on his face as he gazes back up at your face with heavily lidded eyes. He pumps himself inside of you lightly a few times before slowly, so slowly, pulling his cock from your body.

As soon as he’s out, you feel the warm, wet stream of your combined cum leak from your hole. It’s a strange feeling, being empty again after having been stretched so wide. But the discomfort is gone, and you feel blissed out and satisfied and closer to Lukas than ever before. The smile on your face is embarrassingly wide, blush pink on your cheeks as you gaze up at him, the two of you still quiet and catching your breaths. Lukas moves first, gently bending down to place a light kiss on your smiling mouth before speaking.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I feel really good, like, tingly all over.” You giggle, your laughter joined by his own light chuckles. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

“Like what?” His eyebrows furrow a bit in question as he moves to stand at the edge of the bed. You follow his movements, sitting up on the mattress with your legs stretched out in front of you.

“Like… an explosion.”

“I think you’re cum drunk.”

“Probably.”

He laughs again at your nonchalant tone, moving to his en suite bathroom to grab a towel for you. You take the moment of calm to raise your arms up, stretching your back and shoulders after laying for so long. You bend your legs, tucking them up against your naked body and resting your head on your knees. Lukas comes back into your view, moving to kneel at the end of the bed, his eyes level with your hips. He grabs onto an ankle, lightly tugging you towards him. You follow his nonverbal request easily, scooting to the edge on the bed with your legs once again open to give him a clear view of your cunt. His fingers move to either side of your slit, spreading your folds, a devious look on his face as he watches his creamy spend drip from your used hole.

“Hell of a creampie…” Lukas’s eyes flick up to yours, a small gasp having left your mouth at his touch to your sensitive vulva. He bites his lower lip then, cursing under his breath while he sits back a bit, shaking his head as he realizes. “Shit, I didn’t even think about protection.”

“Got too caught up in it?” There’s a small smile on your face, the expression calming his nerves. He nods in response. “It’s okay, we can Doordash Plan-B or something. Do you have that in Sweden?”

Lukas chuckles then, moving back with the towel to gently clean between your legs. The rough terrycloth of the towel drags on your sensitive clit, making your hips wriggle a bit in protest. He just smiles at your movements, continuing his work until he’s satisfied. When he moves the fabric away from you, your eyes catch on a red patch marking the white cloth.

“Did I…?” You move your feet to hang off the end of the mattress to aid you in standing just in front of Lukas. When you're comfortably standing on the floor, albeit on slightly shaky legs, you turn the upper half of your body to peer at the sheets behind you. There on the white fabric is a small blooming stain of red blood. It’s not enough to concern you, but it does cause a small blush to come to your face as you back to face Lukas, who is now standing in front of you, hands coming to anchor themselves on your hips. “Oh I messed up your sheets… I didn’t think-”

“Shh, hey it’s okay. It’s just sheets, ’s fine. You’re more important than linens.” One of his hands moves you to rub against your cheek comfortingly. You nod slowly, looking up into his eyes. There’s a gentle look on Lukas’s face, a look you only see when you two are alone. He places a kiss on your lips before speaking again. “You want to head to bed? Get some sleep?”

You pause for a second, moving your hands to trail up the skin of his back before they land on the back of his neck. You press your chest against his, the hand on your cheek moving back to grip the meat of your ass to stabilize you. “Yeah… or we could do it again?”

The rest of your vacation is spent in Lukas’s bed. Well, that’s not entirely true, it’s also spent in his pool, and on his kitchen counter, and on his couch, and against his bedroom wall, and in his tub… You’re convinced he’s trying to get you to stay, but you fly back at the end of the week as scheduled. Despite his very persuasive attempts.

After Sweden, things get better. It’s like Lukas fucked the fog out of your brain and your back to thinking clearly. You cut back your hours at the office, maintain your work-life balance a bit better, though it’s never great with Waystar. You sleep better at night, usually falling asleep on Facetime with Lukas or reading his text messages. You even schedule some time to get your hair done, a task that your split ends thank you greatly for. You’re functioning the most normally you can given the circumstances. Lukas says maybe your reset switch is in your pussy, you say maybe all the additives and preservatives in American food were finally catching up to you.

Even your status with your siblings gets better. A month or two after the initial shit show of Caroline’s wedding, Kendall reaches out to apologize to you. He tells you he’s staying sober and says he misses you, wants to see you in person, talk things through. You end up meeting at a cafe in Manhattan. Ken almost immediately tries to convince you to jump ship and join your siblings on their new project. To his credit, he understands when you decline. It’s not long after that meeting that your other siblings reach out. Roman sends a half-assed, jokey apology. Shiv doesn’t say sorry at all. But at least you have your family back.

Both your siblings and your dad are upset that you’re talking to the other side, but you stand firm in your place as a neutral party. Once again, you’re the peace keeper of the Roy family. You can’t get them to speak directly, can only make offhand comments to try and slightly influence their perceptions. It’s not much, but it makes you feel less useless at least. You’re sure your siblings won’t miss Logan’s birthday, so you hold out hope they’ll make up by then. They have a few months so it’s not impossible, stranger things have happened.

In the weeks leading up to your dad’s birthday, you visit Lukas again. You stay with him in Sweden again, this time staying only 3 days instead of a week. It’s the same blissful, honeymoon-esque vacation as your first trip. This time with even more sex, if that’s even possible. Lukas teaches you to give blowjobs, and lets you try any position you want. He’s even caring when he’s fucking you roughly, pulling your hair and swallowing your moans with his mouth. He cleans you up after every session, dries your tears and draws you a hot bath for your sore muscles. Again, he hits a reboot button in you, makes you go back to New York with a stupid grin on your face and your head filled with rainbows.

As good as Lukas makes you feel, he leaves you entirely unprepared for the firestorm that your siblings unleash on your dad’s birthday.

#ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #succession #succession fanfic #alexander skarsgard #lukas matsson #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x oc #lukas matsson x ofc #lukas matsson fic #lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson smut #lukas matsson imagine #snow’s fics #a body of impulses #smut

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greensbeanspotatoestomatoes · 4 months ago

Text

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!

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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

#im tired rn #i might make changes tomorrow who knows #i just really wanted to finish this tonight #rottmnt #rottmnt fairy au #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt april #bean writes #also that scene where raph figures it out was going to refrence his medical knowledge but i couldnt make it work lol

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aimeedaisies · 6 months ago

Text

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+

#a fascinating insight in the princesses week #i love articles like this #matching socks for her and her hubby #that curry plate sounds delicious 🤤#hardest working royal 🫡#princess anne #princess royal

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wardenparker · 6 months ago

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 14

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Nothing, really. Some conversations about money and clothing but this chapter is fairly smooth sailing. Summary: The wedding planning begins in earnest! Notes: For anyone following along on the chronic pain escapades, this coming week is surgery week! Hopefully this will be the last mountain to climb in the way of handling the issues at hand and we'll have just a little bit of time with smoother sailing.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

Planning a lunch for the day after the engagement party was very intentional, not wanting people to be short of sleep or hungover after celebrating the night before. What your mother has planned in as casual a manner as possible is a lunch for family and friends in the White House residence to help start the planning of your wedding. It’s favorite foods and enjoying yourselves. At least, that is the plan.

It’s noon on the dot when you and Agent Sisson walk into the Blue Room, and he happily leaves you to your lunch party. Agent Bailey has a much-deserved day off today and your secondary detail is just fine with leaving you to be guarded by the standing White House detail.

“Birdie, your party last night was magnificent.” Your mother rises quickly and moves to hug you. She had enjoyed the relaxed and festive atmosphere.

“I’m glad you had fun, Mom.” The hug is tight and short, but you squeeze each other before letting go. “We thought it went really well, too. The caterers were incredible.”

“They were.” She agrees. “Now, Marcus’s parents should be here any moment. Your father has already talked Matthew into a round of golf after lunch.” She huffs in amusement.

"Of course he did." That doesn't surprise you in the least, but you are glad to see that your father and Matthew Pike are getting along. When the Pikes had come to visit over the summer the two fathers had gotten on like gangbusters and it's continuing. "Sydney should be here soon, too. Juan is taking the baby to his mother's today for some bonding time." Looking around, there is no sign of your sister despite the table being set for the full party. 'Where's Junie?"

“She’s actually out.” Your mother tells you with a small smile. “She went out to breakfast with her new favorite person.” It’s absolutely wonderful how she has clicked with her soulmate and there is no way she would discourage that. “She gave up sleeping in to spend time with him.”

"Our little Junebug's in love." It stings a little that your baby sister won't be here for lunch and to talk about wedding things, but you definitely also understand the pull of wanting to be with your soulmate every possible moment.

“She is.” Your mother nods and touches your shoulder. “Much like you are. I expect her to come rushing in at the last minute, flustered from seeing him.”

"I guess Grammy's wedding dress is going to get a little bit of a workout." the idea makes you smile. Just the mere idea of it. Even if Junie decided she didn't want to wear the heirloom, it wouldn't truly matter. It's having the option that is meaningful.

“That is something that I wanted to talk to you about.” Your mother arches a brow delicately and smiles.

"What about?" You ask tentatively, desperately hoping she's not about to say that something has happened to it or that she doesn't want you to wear it for some odd reason.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about all of your weddings.” She admits. “I was thinking about offering Alex some of the train, if one of you wishes to remove it, in order to create a vest or something to be a part of his own wedding ensemble with he and David eventually marry. But I wanted to see what you and Junie think, since it will one day be held to pass down to your daughters.”

"Mom." Your eyes water immediately, one hand going to your chest, and you're nodding before you can even say anything else. "I think that might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I love it, and Junie will too, I just know it."

“And maybe it will become a tradition with David and Alex’s kids, if they decide to have some.” She is so grateful you like the idea.

"It actually works perfectly with an idea I had," you admit, but a sound from down the hall cuts you off and you grin when you recognize the commotion. "I'll tell everyone together. That's definitely Sydney and Selena that I hear."

“Oh my god, I’m in the White House!” Selena cannot even contain the squeal as the door opens to admit them. “I’m such a history nerd, I just can’t.”

"We'll finally get you on a full White House tour one of these days, I promise." Selena has been meaning to and meaning to book a place on a tour since she moved to DC, but she's been busy and just hasn't nailed down the time. You file the reminder away for yourself and in the meantime you throw your arms around both friends. "I'm so glad you guys are here, oh my god."

“Where else would we be?” Sydney scoffs. “A private invitation to the White House is being framed and hung up on my wall.”

"There's going to be a bunch of them over the next year." Your laugh is full of relief, though, and you usher them both into the room. "Selena, you met my mother last night, right?"

“To be honest, I was too nervous to approach her.” She admits with a rueful shake of her head, obviously a little intimidated by the President of the United States being your mother.

"She's an absolute nerd," you assure Selena with a laugh. You grab her hand and tug her toward the center of the Blue Room. "Mom, you can see Syd's baby pictures in just a second." It's so incredibly sweet that in the last two minutes your mother has clamored to see pictures of baby Constance, but you bring Selena forward with you and smother a laugh. "I want you to meet Selena Pike. She's one of Marcus's cousins and we got attached at the hip while I was in Dallas."

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Your mother has several different smiles, but the one she gives Selena is a genuine, friendly smile that is reserved for family. “Don’t shake my hand.” She shakes her head when Selena offers a more formal greeting. “Family hugs.”

“Oh my god.” Selena breathes, in a way that makes it very clear that the full sentence is actually oh my god, I’m hugging the President, but she keeps her composure well enough and is beaming when she pulls back. “It’s such an honor,” she gushes, giddy and not caring to hide it.

“Well hopefully I won’t disappoint.” She gives Selena a wink and smiles as she practically vibrates.

“Absolutely not.” Selena assures her, certain that there won’t be any politics talked today beyond the invitation list. Today is about the wedding.

“While I know it will not be up to snuff with the amazing caterers that Birdie had last night, I hoped that having lunch would be an easy way to start things off.” Your mother informs them.

"I can't imagine your chef making anything less than stellar." Donna Pike strides into the room with a glowing smile, with your little sister by her side. "I'm so sorry. We got caught up for a minute. June was showing me something in the China Room."

June trails behind your future mother in law, beaming with the innocent hope to someone newly in love. “Sorry, I saw her at the gate and escorted her in.”

"Don't be sorry!" You sweep in and hug them both one at a time, glad to be able to squeeze the life out of your sister and see Donna happily smiling away. Everyone is here and today is meant to be relaxed and joyous.

“Our bride to be is looking radiant this morning.” Donna observes slyly. “Hopefully that means you have a clear plan on what you wish?”

"Marcus and I have talked through some of our early ideas," you pat your purse with pride. "I have a notebook dedicated to wedding planning and thought we could start talking things through over lunch."

“Very efficient.” Donna praises with an encouraging smile. “Now- let me go ahead and say that this is your show. What you want - goes.” She promises. “I will offer an opinion when you want one, but I would never want to be the kind of mother-in-law that views this as ‘her wedding’.”

"This is the White House's wedding." It isn't something that you regret or dread, though, and you turn to your mother with a smile. "And we're going to honor that as best we can, while still doing things our way."

“As long as you are happy with the results.” Your mother interjects. “Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Why don’t we all sit down and we can start talking?” You suggest, nodding to the table that has been set. “I don’t know about you guys but I slept late and didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah….slept.” Junie snorts with a knowing grin. “You and Markie couldn’t keep your hands off each other at the end of the night.”

“It was their engagement party,” Sydney reminds Junie, laughing her way to the table. There are place cards out with everyone’s names on them and little bud cases with a few flowers at each seat. “They’re allowed to be sickeningly cute. It comes with the territory.”

“I know.” She grins. “I’m happy for you, even if it’s eye-rollingly cliché.”

“Says the girl who basically came skipping into the room from spending the morning with her own soulmate.” You sit down at the table where your name is marked, delighted to have Syd on one side of you and Donna on the other. “You guys were sickeningly cute last night, too.”

She rolls her eyes and bites her lips for a moment before she sticks her tongue out at you.

"And on that note..." Like the big sister you are, you snicker playfully before turning your eyes across the table. "So Mom, what's for lunch?"

“Poached salmon with a lemon dill sauce, couscous and root vegetables .” Your mother hum. “Started off by a summer strawberry salad with candied pecans.”

There is a collective, happy groan from everyone at the table, and seconds later a member of the White House kitchen staff comes into the room with pitchers of water and iced tea for the table and another follows with the salad course. Dining in the White House is always a bit like a dance, and you love watching Selena's face as she experiences it for the very first time.

Junie looks towards you with a happy face as the salads are being brought in. “Have you decided to wear Grammie’s dress?”

"Starting with the big questions right away?" Well, you can't blame her for that. It will affect her, too, ultimately. "I have. I love Grammie's dress and I've dreamt about wearing it for years. But, Mom had an idea. And it would affect you, too."

“How would it affect me?” She asks curiously, picking up her fork and thanking the staff as they set a salad on her place setting.

"Mom had an idea to alter the dress," you explain as everyone starts to eat. "The train on Grammie's dress is long, and there is enough fabric there that...if we agreed we both wanted to...we could have a professional trim the skirt and use the fabric from the train to make a waistcoat for Alex for when he and David finally decide to get married."

“Oh that’s a wonderful idea!” Instantly in love with the sentiment, she nods eagerly. “I agree, completely.”

"I know we like different styles." The fact that she is on board with this immediately has both you and your mother beaming with bright smiles, and you sip your iced tea happily in between breaths. "But I like dresses a bit shorter than you do, and I'm taller. I bet if we had Grammie's dress taken up to be full-length on you, it would be about tea length on me."

She snorts slightly and nods. “You are taller than me, you giant.” She teases, shooting you a grin. “I love that idea. I know you’ve been mooning over a Jackie O style for a few weeks.”

“I do want to wear pearls,” you admit with a grin. Your cheeks warm with the slowly building hum of excitement that is actually starting to plan your wedding. “And Marcus and I talked about having a cake similar to the one the Kennedys had.”

“Typical.” She teases, falling in love with the idea immediately. “Do we know if the bakery that made the cake is still in operation? You would need a huge one. It could be another feather in their cap.”

“They are.” In fact, Marcus had looked it up within hours of having the thought and been nearly giddy to report it. “But they’re in Boston, so we would need to talk to them to see if they’re even able to do a cake for a DC wedding. If not, we thought we would just replicate the flavors as a nod to the original.”

Junie snorts and throws your mother a grin. “I think that a request for a wedding cake on White House stationary would be something framed and hung on the wall.” She offers, pointing her fork at her mother. “Or can that be done?”

“I’ll find out.” Your mother’s answering grin says she’ll find a way to make it happen if it is at all within her power. “If it can’t be done on White House stationary, the request will still have the First Family’s name on it.”

“We have a back up plan in case it’s unreasonable to ask,” you remind your mother. It isn’t worth throwing titles around over a cake. That’s not only silly, it would look very bad from an outside perspective.

“If it will cause an optic problem, we will handle it another way, but the wedding will be a White House function.” Your mother reminds you.

“Of course it will.” Your fork up another bite of your salad with a happy hum. “To that point: Mom, we’d like to have the ceremony in the Rose Garden if that’s okay with you.”

“Honestly?” She smiles at you. “I didn’t imagine you would want anywhere else.” She admits. “You have spent hours out there since I’ve changed my address.”

“Have you picked a date yet?” Donna asks, promoting you and Sydney to exchange a knowing smile.

“We did.” The fact that it’s starting to become a reality — this dream you’ve had for months now — makes you giddy in your seat. “Since we share so many of the same friends and family members between what would be two guest lists, Syd and Marcus and I all talked, and we’re having the wedding on September second next year. The next morning, in place of a day-after brunch, we’d like everyone to come and celebrate Constance’s birthday at the inn.”

“Oh that is wonderful!” Donna lights up and nods. “That little girl is cute as a button and her birth is wound into your engagement.”

“And,” you tilt your head to Sydney, not having formally asked her about this particular detail yet. “We’d like her to be our flower girl, too.”

Every woman in the room, including Junie, coos at the idea. Sydney nearly tears up, hormones still making her slightly over emotional when it comes to wonderful things and her daughter. “I would love that.”

“Malachi has set his tongue firmly in cheek and insists on being the ring bearer because I trust him with everything else in my life.” It had made you laugh so hard you’d doubled over when he had said it jokingly a few days ago and it’s all you’ve been able to think of since, so you and Marcus had asked him officially. “So he’ll bring her down the aisle safely. No worrying about getting her around or trying to teach a one-year-old to throw flower petals.”Top of Form

“Oh please tell me we can find a baby carrier in your wedding colors.” Sydney snorts, cackling with laughter. “I would pay money to see him strap her to his chest.”

“It shouldn’t be hard.” The thought hadn’t occurred to you but now that it has you’re fully on board. “We think we want to go with navy and gold. It should be easy to find a navy baby carrier.”

“Only if Malachi and Constance are wearing gold.” Selena chuckles. “God that will be cute.”

“We’ll make it adorable. But putting Constance in a little gold flower girl dress sounds adorable.” When everyone is done with their salads a few members of the White House staff comes back in to clear the small plates and serve lunch, which looks absolutely stunning. Not that that surprises anyone. The White House chef is remarkably talented and it makes you grateful on a very large scale that your wedding’s catering will be in good hands.

The first bite has Donna groaning in pleasure. “This is amazing.” She gushes, looking between you and your mother. “Tell me how this works.” She begs. “Do you have to pay for them yourselves or is it part of the perks of living in the White House?”

“Their salary is part of the presidential budget. The kitchen staff are White House employees, not the family’s specifically.” Your mother doesn’t mind talking a little bit of shop at the table, but she does lend Sydney a smile. “If you didn’t already have your restaurant I would have had you here in a heartbeat.”

“Anytime you wish me to cook…” Sydney promises with a grin. She’s spent many hours with your family and has cooked for them plenty of times.

“We might have to have you be a special guest chef for something.” The President smiles. She clearly already has an idea in mind. Sydney is her third daughter and she’s as proud of her as she is of you or June.

“I will cook your next inauguration dinner.” Sydney promises, lifting her glass of iced peach tea as a toast.

“I will take you up on that, young lady,” your mother teases, although everyone knows she isn’t teasing at all.

“Does your family have any special traditions?” Donna asks after a moment. “Beyond the wedding dress? Anything like a cookie table or similar?”

"We did a cookie table when Birdie's father and I got married." Your mother nods, smiling at the memory. "Our family isn't very large, so we don't have a lot of things that have been passed all around or repeated amongst cousins. My parents helped us with the down payment for a house as our wedding present but our kids have already gotten a step ahead in that respect."

“They are amazing.” She agrees with a proud nod. “I have brought something with me that is a Pike tradition.” She informs the table and makes sure she makes eye contact with you. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be continued.”

"Oh my god." Selena breathes from the other side of the table, and she puts one hand on her heart as you tear up instantly.

"I didn't know you were going to bring it," you murmur, having seen enough Pike family wedding photos to know exactly what she's talking about.

“Of course I was going to bring it.” She’s not offended, but she huffs slightly. “I remembered your grandmother’s dress and was hoping even if you decided not to wear it on your wedding day, that we could take a photo of you in the dress with the necklace.” She explains as she reaches down into her purse to pull out a very loved and worn necklace case.

When she hands you the jewelry case you set it very carefully between you on the table and open it up to be able to show Sydney, your mother, and Junie. "I did say I wanted to wear pearls, didn't I?" The necklace itself is ornate and beautiful. A three-strand pearl necklace of natural fresh water pearls in various tones and coordinated sizes that graduate gently at each end. The inner most strand has a stunning fixture of diamonds fashioned like outstretched wings. It can be worn all as one piece, as a double strand of pearls, as just a single pearl strand with the diamond fixture, or the diamond fixture can be removed altogether to become a brooch. Each Pike bride had done something different with the piece to make it her own. "It belonged to Marcus's great-grandmother," you explain to the few people at the table who have never seen the necklace before.

“It’s gorgeous.” Junie coos, falling in love with it. “It’s- oh god, it’s Cartier.” She breathes when she sees the emblem on the box. “Isn’t it?”

"My husband's grandmother was given the necklace as an engagement present," Donna explains, having been proud to wear the piece herself on her own wedding day. She had affixed the diamond brooch to her dress like a badge of honor. "She gave it to her daughter-in-law as engagement gift down the line, and it was leant out to subsequent nieces, cousins, and other granddaughters. It's become tradition for all of the Pike brides to be given the chance to wear the heirloom."

“That is such a lovely tradition.” Your mother comments, finding it to be absolutely breathtaking.

"Isn't it?" It's impossible not to fall in love with the story, just like you had when Marcus had shown you the plethora of family pictures and explained the tradition to you.

“It is time to let the necklace rest in the hands of the next generation.” Donna tells you softly. “We want you to have it.”

“To…to wear it.” You clarify, eyes widening to the point of saucers as you look at your future mother-in-law beside you.

“To keep it safe.” Donna clarifies. “The cousins and nieces and nephews may ask you for it to use and as the future Pike “matriarch” I suggest always offering it when someone gets engaged, but I mean for you to keep it going forward.”

“Pike…matriarch?” It hadn’t occurred to you that that would be the case. It truly hadn’t. Marcus has so many cousins and aunts and uncles you had just assumed that that title would go elsewhere. That the responsibility of it would fall to someone else. But you? “I’m—I’m absolutely honored,” you promise her, tearing up at the table as you squeeze her hand tightly.

Smiling at you, she reaches out and touches your face softly. “I am thrilled that Marcus has found you, wonderful you.”

“I didn’t plan on crying today,” you huff, always playfully, when tears start to press at your eyes. But it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not when they’re tears of appreciation and joy and you can lean over to hug your fiancé’s mother tightly. “Your entire family has been so kind and so welcoming. I’m impossibly grateful to all of you.”

“It is easy to be kind when you are amazing.” She promises. “You are supposed to be in this family, it’s….well, it’s fate.” She smiles ironically.

“It is, isn’t it?” Keeping things to just a sniffle is a miracle but you manage it for now with just a dab at the corners of your eyes.

Everyone else smiles at the obvious affection between future mother in law and bride. Your mother is eternally grateful that you have been so welcomed.

“Okay, well that was unexpected.” You wipe your eyes and let yourself have one more good sniffle before looking around the table with a soft grin. “Anyone else planning on making me cry today? I’ll brace myself.”

“Not unless there’s more unexpected news?” Your mother asks, looking around the table.

"I don't think so." Looking around the table makes you laugh. "Unless someone else has something up their sleeves."

“I cannot give you jewels or prestige, but I can offer my assistance with anything you need.” Selena offers.

"You have my bow." Junie jokes, ever the avid Lord of the Rings fan.

"And my axe." Syd snorts, giggling along with her.

“It was supposed to be sword first.” Your mother tsks, shaking her head at Junie, even as she grins. “Sounds like we need to rewatch it.”

"I know it's sword first." Junie complains, though she will never complain about a rewatch of her favourite movies. "But I never took fencing, I took archery. Why would I pledge my sister a weapon I can't wield?"

“My youngest child is so literal.” Your mother snorts, laughing at the offended look on Junie’s face.

"One of us has to be," you grin in amusement. "I've got my head in the clouds and Alex is a gremlin. We need Junie to ground us."

“You are all so very different, but so very alike.” She muses. “All of you amazing in your own way.”

"Oops." June laughs and points her drink in your direction. "Mom is getting sentimental. Quick, somebody else ask a wedding planning question."

“Where will the reception be?” Selena asks.

"Probably the East Room?" You look to your mother for confirmation, but it makes the most sense. It is the largest room in the residence and usually used for dancing and receptions of other kinds. "Would we have dinner in one of the dining rooms and then dancing in the East Room?"

“I believe that would be very fitting considering that is where the ‘First Princess’ photos were taken.” Your mother hums, nodding in agreement. “We must make sure that Marcus recreates that dip for another photo.” It would be for purely personal reasons she would want that.

“I’ll make sure he does.” It would be perfect for the first and last pages of your wedding album to be those photos, and the idea practically makes you sigh with the dreamy feeling in your heart. “So that’s all the wedding locations sorted. The rehearsal dinner is still way up in the air and the Jack and Jill bachelor party is being left up to the wedding party.” Your eyes cut to your three bridesmaids and Sydney, June, and Selena all grin back with false innocence. “But there will be photography so please keep it wholesome. The only other venue is the bridal shower.”

“Where would you want to have a bridal shower?” Selena asks curiously. “There are so many historic sights around here, I can’t help but think that it’s impossible to choose.”

“If we do another historical site, I want to make sure they keep the museum open like they did last night.” There are only a few bites of your salmon left and you already know you’ll be thinking about this meal for weeks to come. “Using historical sights is about recognizing American history and being open to discussing it. I would hate for someone to show up to an event at Ford’s Theater and assume we support presidential assassinations just like I would have hated anyone to show up last night and assume we supported slavery just because we were at the home of someone who had been a slave owner.” You shake your head a bit, knowing that some people will always be contrary. “Maybe a smaller museum that could use a little recognition?”

“What about something for women’s rights?” Sydney asks. “There’s the museum for Women in the Arts and the Women’s Museum.” She offers. “It can be a moment that shows that just because a woman finds her soulmate, that doesn’t mean she looses herself.”

“There are those, and also the Suffrage Museum,” you nod along with the idea.

“You mean Sewall-Belmont House?” Junie perks up immediately. “Technically it’s now the Belmont-Paul Women’s Equality National Monument.” You flash your best friend a grin. We could have a tea party in the museum dedicated to women’s suffrage? They sold tea blends and Held tea parties as part of the rallies during the suffrage movement. Any of those would work.”

“Really?” Donna tilts her head in curiosity and smiles. “That is something that I know nothing about, but it would be fascinating.” She confesses.

“Lets see which of those three would be able to take our numbers and passes the Secret Service’s scrutiny,” your mother suggests. “They would all be wonderful choices.”

Murmurs of agreement sound around the table and then the clinks of the forks on the plates resume as everyone continues to eat. “What about gifts.” Selena asks.

“For the bridal shower?” You cringe, knowing that gifts are traditional but also that you and Marcus can manage. “Ought I to make a registry? Or should everyone just have at it?”

“I think you should.” Your mother nods. “If you aren’t comfortable with the gifts, find a charity you would like contributions to be made to in your honor.”

"We've tossed around a few charities we want to support." It's something that has come up a little more often now that gift giving occasions are on the horizon. "We'll talk it over. But knowing my practical fiancé, he will suggest making a small registry for closest family members and friends, and choosing a charity or two to put on the invitations."

“That sounds like the best kind of compromise.” Sydney admits. “Aunt Mildred isn’t going to want to donate to charity, she wants to gift you an egg platter that will be used twice a year and then displayed with pride.”

You smirk, but nudge your best friend beside you. “So this hypothetical Aunt Mildred…is your mother?”

She snorts and sighs. “How did you guess? The horrible name or the insistence on things being her way?”

“Your mother is as particular as she is old fashioned.” You snort, knowing that particular is a generous description of Syd’s mother. Though she has always been a kind and supportive presence, she does has very strong beliefs.

“Particular.” Sydney rolls her eyes and shakes her head, although it’s more in fond exasperation than anything else. “Yes, but that particularity will have you something hopelessly needless and ornamental.” She warns.

“And we will treasure it because it’s from her.” After all, Sydney’s mother helped raise you. She’s as much a part of her childhood as your own mother in a lot of ways.

"Mom is in meetings all day, so no fear of your mother-in-law popping in to give her two cents," you tease, as you and Marcus move through the White House residence on a Friday afternoon hours in advance of family dinner. You're meeting with the person that the White House special events staff has designated as your wedding planner for the very first time and trying not to seem nervous. It feels overwhelming to start this planning right in the midst of the holiday season but it has to get done. And the sooner the decisions are made, hopefully the easier the rest of the wedding preparations will be.

Marcus snorts and rolls his eyes playfully. “You’re the one who said I couldn’t use my badge.” He reminds you, winking as his arm loops around your waist.

"Because I want that ace in the hole, my love." You grin back at him and lean into his side, putting your arm around his waist in turn and giggling. "If anything goes truly sideways, that's when we use the badge."

“FBI, madam,” Marcus drawls seriously. “Did you insist on the color puce for a wedding color?!”

The snort you let out echoes in the halls of the residence and you're still giggling when you turn into the China Room. "I think navy and gold were good choices. Nice and simple. We're not trying to reinvent the wheel here."

“And it’s a play on red, white and blue.” Marcus observes. “The red will come from the roses in the Rose Garden and then gold for the white and of course, navy.”

"The white will surely be your bride, won't it?" Annette is already in the room, sitting with her notebook and phone out on the table in front of her. "Miss Sharma is on her way. She's just coming from a meeting with your father and I'm sure he has given her a few things to consider that he wants for your wedding."

Marcus smile as he nods towards Annette. “Good to see you again. And yes, she will be the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

"There's no need for flattery, you two." But you still hum happily and sit down at the table with Marcus and Annette. "We're all the most interested in having a day that runs both beautifully and smoothly."

“I have two goals.” Marcus tells you. “Well, one goal.” He corrects. “Marry you. As long as that happens, the day is perfect.”

"Was there another one in debate?" The chairs are too far apart for you to lean into his side, so you take his hand and weave your fingers together instead.

“I had thought to have a water fight in the Rose Garden.” He jokes. “But I don’t the secret service would like a game of hide and seek.”

"I might put it on the schedule just to see them panic." Amelia Sharma is a tall, poised, and right now very amused woman who sweeps in to the room with a chuckle. She introduces herself but doesn't stand on much ceremony, plopping down in the chair between you and Annette. "We have quite a lot of work ahead of us. A few jokes will help us keep our heads on straight."

Marcus laughs as he watches her pull out a planner and it’s a wonderful idea. He bites his lip and wonders if it might be a keepsake you and he could have after the wedding is over. “Despite the magnitude of the wedding, we are really pretty simple people.”

"That might be the other thing that will keep our heads on straight," you admit, watching the woman get settled. As is habitual in your mother's White House, there is a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of snacks on the table but for now you just reach to pour yourself a glass of tea. "We're not terribly picky, or high maintenance, or any of that. All we want is a nice day with our friends and family."

“There will be a few other guests as well.” Annette reminds you. “But only few.”

"Do you have the list of official guests?" The guest list from the White House was meant to be approved by your mother early on and adjusted as economics and politics demanded, but you have been curious about a first draft.

“You have final say.” Amelia pulls a sheet of paper out of the planner and hands it to you.

Dignitaries and representatives from other governments are all represented as you suspected them to be. Members of your mother's cabinet. The new governor of Pennsylvania and her family. A few token members of important families. But no celebrities or donors or anything that doesn't make immediate sense as you look over the list.

“Does it look alright?” Marcus asks you, knowing that you are much more knowledgeable on the political side than he is.

“I never thought I would have to curtsy to anyone at my wedding, you admit, Running your finger along the names of the various retrial families on the list before you look back up at Annette and Amelia. “Do we think any of the royals will actually show, or just send a nice card?”

“They might arrange an upcoming tour of the US to coincide.” Annette tells you with a smile. “Although you could cause tongue to wag by not curtsying.”

“I don’t object to it,” you clarify immediately, thinking of all the scuttlebutt that would happen if you didn’t do something as silly as curtsy. “It sounds like a cute photo op actually. The First Princess and the Actual Princess.”

“I think I would like to see that.” Marcus agrees with a fond smile. “It would be a beautiful photo op.”

“You know what that makes you?” The sly grin on your lips for your fiancé isn’t subtle, nor is the sparkle in your eyes. “Prince Charming.”

He snorts and shrugs, “I’ve never denied that.” He teases playfully.

“Some will accept and some will not.” Amelia Sharma smiles, mostly because she can tell you’re nervous. “But those who will souls be given a bit more attention than your standard courtesy invitation.”

“It doesn’t matter who is there.” Marcus tells you. “All that matters is that those we love are there, celebrating our happiness. Everyone else is just white noise.”

“We just want the flowers inside to complement the fact that our ceremony is being held in the Rose Garden.” It feels like a foreign language to you, talking to this florist, and you curse the fact that Marcus had been called out of the country on a case as you sit here with your wedding planning the florist’s shop wishing you knew what the hell you were talking about.

Marcus bites his lip, his alarm going off to remind him of the flower appointment. “Excuse me, I need to make a call back to the States.” Interpol doesn’t need to know that it’s not to his boss, so Marcus closes the door on the small office he’s been allowed to use and pulls out his phone.

It’s a miracle when your phone goes off in the middle of trying to find your voice with the florist. Oh thank god, you think with a sigh. “This is my fiancé,” you explain, and set your phone in the table in front of you to answer it. “Hi honey! You have perfect timing.”

“Have you already met with the florist?” He asks, happy to hear your voice and he thinks he hears a little bit of relief in your tone.

“We all just sat down,” you tell him, wishing you could just reach through the phone and hug him. “I was just telling Theresa about the Rose Garden, and Amelia is here with us as well.”

“So I’ve been doing some research….” Marcus admits with a smile in his tone.

“Oh?” Theresa, the florist, sounds impressed that a groom would be doing more research about flowers than the bride.

“We have colors for our wedding. Navy and gold, so I was thinking that we use marigolds, azure aster and baby’s breath for the bouquets.” He suggests. “They complement the roses in the garden and still have their own beauty.”

“We can certainly start there,” the florist hums, nodding along and starting to scribble down in her notebook. “We’ll get some height out of other flowers in the same color scheme, but this is a beautiful beginning. Bringing real color to the palette is much more lively than working with a monochromatic look and I think you’ll be very pleased with it.”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He hopes he hasn’t overstepped because you and he hadn’t had a long discussion about flowers yet.

“I think it’s an utter relief,” you promise him with a laugh. “I had absolutely no idea of how to approach flowers and you’ve solved it in one go.”

“I spent the flight hooked up to the WiFi and researching flowers.” He admits with a laugh. “I just didn’t want you to have to think about this alone. If you hate it, that’s fine, but let the florist put something together like that to see, hum?”

“I’m absolutely on board.” And relieved — absolutely, entirely relieved. “You didn’t happen to have a thought about my bouquet, did you?”

“Actually…” Marcus chuckles and shrugs even though no one can see him. “I thought you could have something non-traditional and yet it would be a quiet statement in official portraits. What if you were to carry a bouquet of olive branches?”

“I could certainly use olive branches as greenery in your bouquet instead of the usual accents,” the florist offers, interested by the choice.

“You’re thinking of the official seal, aren’t you, love?” You ask Marcus over the phone, and hum slightly at the idea. It’s a nice homage without going crazy. “What if we used olive branches and laurel branches as the greenery for our flowers?” You offer after a moment. “Laurel are in the Seal of the President.”

“It would be a statement.” He agrees, having thought laurels might have been too bold, but the two of them together might be the ticket. “Especially since your mother is working hard to achieve peace.”

“And the day is a peaceful one.” Amelia smiles at the sentiment, nodding in approval. “After the turmoil you dealt with early on, it will be nice to have your day for happiness.”

“Yes.” Turmoil, you think with a polite smile. That’s one word for it. “Maybe for my bouquet we can use those greens and an assortment of white flowers? White versions of the things that we’re using in the other arrangements, and of course roses and dahlias and camellias. Things like that?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Marcus promises, smiling softly as you start to interject your own thoughts into the process.

“And what about the boutonnieres?” The florist is now taking rapid notes. “How many members of your wedding party will there be?”

“Honey?” Marcus speaks again. “Did we decide on four or five?”

“We said four, didn’t we?” You look down at the phone as though you were simply looking at him in conversation. “You have Juan, Alex, Leo, and Clark?” Originally Marcus had asked his father if he would want to be a groomsman, but after a long discussion Matthew had insisted that Marcus choose his friends that are nearby and truly enjoy himself.

“That’s right.” Marcus huffs. “You’re completely right, I forgot. There would be five total, four for the groomsmen and I would like a boutonniere that matches the bride’s bouquet. I think there should be a subtle difference between the arrangements, right?”

“Absolutely.” The florist nods, continuing to scribble. “I can do further simplified pieces for the fathers and the ring bearer if you would like?”

“Definitely.” It sounds very sweet, actually, to have everyone unified like that. “Our ring bearer is an adult, for the record. A very close friend. So the only child in the wedding party is our flower girl.”

“Will the child be holding a bouquet as well?” She asks and for some reason that makes Marcus laugh through the phone.

“Our goddaughter will only be a year old, so I’m not planning on testing her coordination with a bouquet and a basket of flower petals,” you answer as kindly as you can with Marcus giggling over the phone.

“Sorry, I’m just imagining Constance flapping the bouquet in Malachi’s face as he carries her down the aisle.” He snorts.

“Honestly?” You giggle right along with him but offer your florist and wedding planner an apologetic grin. “That alone might make it worthwhile.”

“I’m here!” Sydney opens the door three inches and shoves her lips inside, the days of just popping in without announcing are over now that Marcus lives here. She’s not willing to risk walking in on something she shouldn’t see. “Put your clothes on.”

“Marcus is out with my Dad,” you huff at your best friend, but laugh anyway. “I’m fully dressed and presentable. But don’t come in, we need to scoot out if we’re going to meet Selena, our sisters, and my Mom at the dress shop.”

“Sorry.” She knows she’s the one running behind. Getting out the door has become practically impossible with Constance here now. “Let’s go.”

“Honey do not even apologize.” You grab your coat and grin to find Agent Bailey already ready to go.

“I’ll drive,” she offers, shooing you toward the elevator. “You two enjoy your gossip and baby pictures on the ride.”

“Thanks.” She flashes the agent a grin. “I only took ninety-seven photos this morning. Quite modest.”

“I can’t believe it’s dress shopping time already.” As the three of you head down in the elevator, you snag Sydney’s arm and tug her close in your excitement. The January chill has done nothing to quell your excitement, but it does mean you’re definitely wearing knee high boots with your plaid dress today instead of heels. “This dress shop is amazing and I’m so excited to see what you guys like.”

“How have your fittings been going with your grandmother’s dress?” She asks, knowing how careful you are being with altering the heirloom. You had taken Junie with you to make sure she approved.

“It’s going to be pretty perfect.” The elevator ride evaporates on a sigh and a laugh, and in mere minutes you’re sliding into Agent Bailey’s car. “It will be tea length, so the mission is to find dresses for the four of you that are the same or shorter.”

“You might be the first bride in history that wants her bridesmaids to have a sexier dress than she does.” Sydney teases, making Agent Bailey chuckle softly as she pulls out of the inn’s driveway.

"Knee length dresses can be perfectly modest," you huff, but you know she's right. "The place we're going is run by a pair of cousins, and they make modern interpretations of vintage dresses. I think we're going to find something fantastic. At least...I hope we will."

“I know we will.” She predicts. “This wedding planning has been super easy. Who could have guessed that Marcus would have been so engaged in the entire process?” Her comment is sarcastic because all of them knew it, but it’s still fun to point out that your soul mate is also carrying around bridal magazines in his briefcase.

"Actually?" Glancing over at her in the car, you smirk to hold back a joyous giggle. "He's the one who had the idea for the bridesmaid dresses that I think I'm going to go with."

The little dress shop in downtown DC is just that — little — but the ladies who run it are endlessly sweet and accommodating. Your group just about fills the entire shop and there are Secret Service agents to boot, so the shop owners have elected to have their place open late today to accommodate your group as a private party.

It might actually be the most fun you e had with any wedding planning trip ever. You and Sydney join your mother, June, Selena, and Sydney’s sister AnnaLeigh to round out your bridesmaids— on top of having your wedding planner present — and everyone has mimosas to make the whole thing even more fun.

“Have you decided what color you would like the bridesmaids’ dresses, or are you still going to choose what you like best?” Your mother asks, happy to be able to be here after all the meetings this morning. Nothing but a national crisis would have prevented her from coming.

“I’m hoping we can find dresses for everyone that work in navy blue, but if we can’t then that’s fine.” You’re not going to be a bridezilla about your wedding colors. The groomsmen have all already ordered suits in navy with a gold pocket square so your colors are represented there. “I want you all to wear things that make you feel beautiful. Marcus had a thought that I agree with — that we should pick a color, a fabric type, and a length that everyone can agree on. And then everyone can have a dress in their own style that coordinates instead of completely matching.”

“Ohhhh interesting.” Junie lights up and nods. “I think that would be great, although, there’s a lot of beautiful things here.”

“If you all fall in love with the same dress, then that’s fine,” you look around at your bridesmaids with an utter softness in your expression, just glad to have you friends and your sister here. “But I’m not going to force you to match.”

Sydney smirks at Junie, both of them aware of the conversation that had been had without you about how you were all going to match for this wedding.

“Why don’t we start with the navy blue options and see what we like?” Your consultant today is one of the shop’s owners and she is nothing but smiles with the large group in her shop.

“Of course.” It’s absolutely thrilling to have the President and her daughter in their shop and the owners are here to personally oversee the day, giving you the privacy you need without the additional staff here. “We will pull all the styles we have available and we can order any size needed and make alterations.”

“Do you guys want to do a fashion show?” It’s a fully rhetorical question. You know these four women and you know they absolutely live for frivolous shopping trips and the endorphins of being silly with friends. This trip might be for a real event, but it still has that air of frivolity that shopping for prom dresses did back when you were teenagers. “I’m going to sit with Mom and Amelia and we’ll go through the best of the navy blue choices first?”

“Yes!” Junie immediately volunteers, shooting up out of her seat in excitement. “I put on my good bra too.”

"Come on, Junebug." Sydney tugs your baby sister toward the racks of dresses and nudges you firmly in the other direction. "Sit," she urges you. "Drink. Chat. Let us do the work for once."

"Oo!" AnnaLeigh, already in the racks of dresses, is gasping over a discovery. "I found one with a lace top!"

She pulls the dress out with a flourish and four bridesmaids immediately coo over the pretty dress. “I think you should try it on first.” Junie tells her.

“Everybody picks a different dress and we let Birdie pick, right?” Selena murmurs, her eyes already sliding to a satin swing dress that looks straight out of the 1950s.

“Agreed.” Sydney sees where Selena is heading and her own browsing bypasses that and goes directly for a beautiful sleeveless number.

It takes several minutes to get everyone coordinated, but when all four of your bridesmaids disappear into changing rooms there is a collective squealing and another moment’s pause before they emerge again in all their glory.

“Oh my…” your mother whispers, her gaze full of love and adoration for the vision in front of her. She loves Junie with all her heart, Sydney is the closest thing to a child she has beyond her biological children and of course she adores Syd’s sister and Selena. “You all look perfect.”

“Oh my god!” Knowing that your friends have excellent taste might have been a little bit of a tactic on your part, and setting them loose to pick the first round of dresses was a fantastic choice. “Okay, you all look amazing. But how do you feel? Comfortable? Like you can dance and move and sit without trouble?”

Every woman starts swinging the dresses around playful and moving. Junie and Selena dance to no music and all of them laugh.

“What about sitting?” Choosing between any of the four dresses they’ve chosen will be impossible unless you put on a critical eye. The dress Junie has on is the right length on her, but your petite little sister is considerably shorter than the other three. And the dress can’t be elongated to fit them.

There are chairs and all four of them sit down with great aplomb, grinning happily. The dresses feel right.

“I swear, if you all tell me you found the perfect dresses first thing…” Looking between them, it certainly seems that way. As though they have all magically found perfection without any effort at all.

“What? That we have time for you to try on your dress with the alterations started?” Junie challenges with a grin. “Don’t you think you should see what a rough look like it will be, all together?”

“Is it safe?” You have to let the shopkeeper make the call on that decision. The reason you found this shop was that they specialize in working with vintage pieces as well as selling vintage-inspired designs, so it had been sort of a one stop shop for you in terms of planning.

“Yes.” She smiles at the wistful hope in your eyes and knows that she can’t say no. The hem has been pinned and as long as you aren’t careless with it, it will be good to get a final fitting with it. “We can go get it from the back.”

“I really didn’t expect to put it on today.” Which is evidenced by the fact that you didn’t even think to wear a strapless bra today, but it doesn’t matter. It will be beautiful regardless.

Junie smirks and shakes her head. “You have to.” She insists. “One picture with all of us right now.”

“Do you guys really love these dresses? You’re not just saying that?” Looking at the four of them, you can’t help but get a touch misty-eyed as Selena pulls you up on the dais with them to look in the mirror together. “Because you all look stunning, but you really don’t have to pick after the first round.”

“I love mine.” Selena snorts. “This is the one I want.” The others hum and nod in agreement. “Yeah, this is the one for me.”

“What kind of jewelry are you thinking?” AnnaLeigh asks, gleefully swishing her skirt in the mirror.

“I was thinking…pearls maybe?” Meeting all of their eyes in the mirror, you have four beaming smiles gleaming back at you. “But the other wedding color is gold, so maybe…maybe pearls and gold? But those are going to be gifts for you four. Thank you gifts, for being a part of all of this.”

“You don’t have to give us anything.” Sydney automatically protests, but she knows you will do it anyway.

“No.” You know that, but you squeeze your best friend to your side. “But I want to.”

“But we just want to lodge a formal protest.” Her sister chimes in with a grin. “So we are going to buy our bridesmaids dresses.”

“Absolutely not.” Shaking your head at that adamantly, all four of them shoot you a stern look in the mirror. “You guys, no,” you insist, nudging them all. “Get your own shoes. Whatever height you like. Be comfortable and pick something fun. Gold or blue, you guys decide as a group. But…Mom already offered to pay for the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“You’re no fun.” Sydney huffs, turning towards the President and rolling her eyes at your mother. “The presidential purse, hum?”

“The regular purse,” your mother laughs. You’ve allowed her this one little thing to do personally, while most of the wedding expenses are being covered by a combined force of contributions. “You all look stunning, and I want the bragging right of saying I got all of these beautiful dresses for you.”

“Mrs. Pike?” The shop owner has a little habit of calling all the brides by the future marital name and it makes you beam. “We are ready for you to try on the dress.”

“Here goes nothing.” You grin at your friends in the mirror and slip away to change, practically floating with the glow of two little words. Mrs. Pike. In just eight months, that is exactly who you will be.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #PrincessPike2018 #PikeWedding2018 #WhiteHouseWedding2018

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ravencoloredroses · 1 year ago

Text

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.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel #cassian #feyre #mor #nesta #nyx #rhys #rhysand #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader

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chromorbid · 4 months ago

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financial support for the BBQ Crew

this is Smokey, Spicy, and Chili! Three stray kittens my parents picked up. In the terrible Texas heat, their kind hearts couldn't say no to taking these babies in. Unfortunately, the shelters are all full-up, and my family is already in some serious financial straits--barely able to keep themselves fed right now--and could really use some help getting these babies vet care and kitten food until they can find new homes for them.

they were found with a fourth, black kitty and their mother a couple weeks back before they vanished the next day, presumably moved by their mom, then found again a few days ago in the neighbors' shed. the black kitty is still MIA as of today :( but at least these three are safe! covered in mites and at least one has a respiratory infection, but still safe! and they're playful and happy-seeming while only a little bit skittish; unlike their feral mom, thank goodness.

if you could spare a few dollars to help out, we would be truly grateful!

it'll be about $35-ish for food to last them a good bit and $80 x 3 to get them vet appointments and vaccines, but any amount (or just sharing) helps! Remember to use the friends & family option on paypal

*****EDIT******

We have more of an official cost for their vet visit!

there are also receipts for the purchases made more them so far!

It's going to be $90 per kitten to get them checkups, vaccines, and follow-ups--which is great actually, because I was just thinking it would be $80 for checkups and vaccines alone! So i'm adding $30 to the total for the necessary funds we know of at this point (plus $10 because I forgot that they needed litter as well as food)

Any extra money after this total will be put towards more food and litter for them!

$125/$315 raised

[last update 7/17 11a CST]

#crowdfunding #cats #kittens #animals

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sparks-olivarpente · 1 year ago

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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 <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.

#edited to add an author's tumblr #i keep telling myself i'm going to move on to some new hobby #this was going to be the Last List of Fics #but i already started 3 new ones #i'm stuck there #happily #byler #byler fic #byler fic recs

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rkay07 · 1 year ago

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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.

#c!techno #c!technoblade #c!technoblade x reader #technoblade #technoblade x reader #technoblade fanfic #technoblade fluff #technoblade never dies

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

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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?"

#emeritusemeritus #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #harry potter #fred weasley x reader #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley #george weasley x reader x fred weasley #fred weasley masterlist #weasley twins x reader #george weasley smut

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artzee-bee · 2 years ago

Text

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.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fanfic #mlb x reader #mlb headcanons #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste imagine #adrien agreste angst #adrien agreste headcanons #adrien agreste fluff #chat noir #chat noir imagine #chat noir x reader #chat noir angst #chat noir fluff

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12-seconds-to-live · 2 years ago

Text

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”

#f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1xfemaledriver #charles lecrelc #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #estaban ocon #carlossainz #y/n x f1 #alex albon #fanfic #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #red bull formula 1 #mercedes formula one

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eretzyisrael · 9 months ago

Text

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.

#hamas #gaza #tunnels #weapon stockpiles

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justmystyles · 1 year ago

Text

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.”

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