Fandom Freak

I will be deleting this account for awhile. Not sure when/if I’ll be back.

Feel free to adopt any story you want and THANK YOU all for all your support and encouragement over the years.

Gotta be honest- I didn’t think it was gonna happen. 😭🫣

Usual warnings apply for the whole series- low self esteem, suicidal thoughts, talk of death, violence, mild cursing probably somewhere.

Also, playing fast and loose with cannon details in a terrifyingly amount of ways.

This is a little shorter than the others have been- getting back in the groove of writing.

If you’re tagged and don’t want to be any longer, lemme know!

Enjoy!

Your head was spinning as you paced your room, packing abandoned. Even though you had arrived with nothing but the clothes on your back, the Queens would hear nothing of it and insisted you take back at least some of the clothes your room in Volterra had been filled with.

But even the designer labels couldn’t hold your attention too long.

You were going back to Forks.

Back to your job, your old life, familiarity.

Marcus was coming with you.

King Marcus was coming with you.

And he had apparently just…claimed you as his Charge and would now die for you.

What did that even mean?

You’d tried to ask Edward details after he’d so graciously dropped that bomb shell on you, but he’d remained tight lipped.

Apparently it wasn’t his place to say any more about it.

You were really getting tired of vampires leaving you in the dark. This was your life!

“Always have a choice, my eye,” you grumbled as you scrubbed a hand over your face. New decision. No agreeing to anything without a freakin’ essay about what it was.

A sudden knock at your room door made you startle and spin around, heart hammering.

What if it was Carlisle? Or another Cullen? You were pretty much trapped in your room- no avenue for escape and Edward had told you that you’d be left alone to pack and prepare for the flight. You had a sneaking suspicion he meant more mentally and emotionally preparing than packing.

A quick glance out the window showed it was still early afternoon- too early for anyone to come fetch you for the plane.

Your stomach rolled.

This was getting ridiculous- you were ready to be Home in Forks!

The knocking sounded again, a little more forcefully and you took a deep breath.

Time to pull on your big kid panties and open the door then.

Nauseous, you headed to the door and with a grimace, pulled it open.

There, looking severely unimpressed, was Caius.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and your shoulders lost a smidge of their tension, though they were still tucked up around your ears.

Not the best person to be at the door but at least it wasn’t Carlisle.

After a moment of silence, you ventured out a tentative, “Um, would you like to come in?”

The blonde vampire king seemed to size you up before ultimately nodding once and sweeping past you elegantly into the room.

You closed the door and mentally gave yourself a pep talk.

You could do this. Yes, this was Caius, Human Hater extraordinaire, yes, he had no use for any humans OR the Cullens, (the latter of which you pretty much were considering your…Bond), and yes, you were alone with him where no one could probably hear you scream, and yes, he looked very not happy and very murderous…and nope, you were going to die. This was the end for you. Finite.

At least you hadn’t wasted your last moments on Earth packing.

“I’m surprised your human heart can beat that fast,” came his nonchalant drawl. Cue your heart rate almost tripling.

“I, uh, don’t think it’s supposed to?” you squeaked, putting a hand to your chest as if that would keep it from beating right out onto the floor.

Caius looked at you for a long moment with narrowed eyes. You felt as if he was trying to see into your soul - and once doing so, found you lacking.

“I have been informed that calling you ‘mortal’ or ‘human’ is not only discourteous, but potentially frightening for you as well,” he began lowly. “My brother has made it clear that you are to be protected and treated well, but you and I must come to an understanding before you leave this room, Charge. I watched my brother wither and fade once. It nearly destroyed all of us when he lost his Bond Mate and now that he has Life back in him, I will not see him ruined again.

The Pull between Bond Mates is stronger than any Pull out there- stronger than any relationship ties that we’ve seen in our collective nine thousand years. My brother has already tied himself to you- against my counsel and all common sense- as your Protector but do not trifle with his feelings before running back to your Bond Mate. You would not survive the week.”

You stood there gaping at the violent vampire king.

First thing he says to you since you’ve been here and it’s…a threat? You felt a sliver of anger that you did your best to stamp down. This King could outmatch any rage of yours, every time. That was a battle you would never be equipped for.

But at the same time- what were you supposed to say to that?! You didn’t ask to be a Bond Mate, you didn’t ask to have said Bond Mate and almost his whole family hate your guts, you didn’t ask to be a part of a relationship that had so strong of a Pull that it was almost impossible to break or ignore, you didn’t ask Marcus to be your protector- you still didn’t even know what that meant! So why were you the one being threatened?! Why were you the one being told not to hurt anyone?! You’d been hurt plenty yourself and for something that wasn’t your fault!

There was a deadly silence and you realized with horror that you hadn’t thought any of that. You’d said it out loud. Essentially screamed it, actually, at the most violent member of the ruling Vampire coven.

Caius shifted on his feet and your heart started actively trying to make a run for it. This was it. Your end.

To your surprise, or what you could feel past the mind numbing fear almost certain death will bring you, Caius simply turned and moved to one of the chairs situated by the fireplace, gesturing for you to join him in another.

“Come, Charge. Have a seat. If my brother had any idea the stress you were under with me being here, he’d have my head.”

Woodenly, you moved to sit down in the chair across from him, stiff as a board, eyeing him nervously.

“You want to know about Protectors? I will tell you,” he said abruptly. “It is too serious a matter for you to be uninformed.”

You blinked in surprise. Wow. A vampire that actually wanted to tell you something- that was a new one.

Caius must have read the surprise -and gratefulness- in your face for he shook his head, though a very small smile played at his lips.

“We have been around for thousands of years. We’ve learned, and enjoyed, keeping things close to the chest and keeping others ill informed and off balance. However, this is not one of those times. How much did young Edward tell you about Protectors and their Charges?”

You slowly shook your head, “Not much. He said it wasn’t his place to tell but that Marcus would now fight my battles and…and die for me.”

You ended on a whisper, still reeling over having any bit of the king’s attention, let alone something like that. Who were you that an immortal vampire, a royal one at that!, would want to be connected to you in such a permanent way?

Caius nodded, leaning back in his chair, doing a very good impression of a lounging feral jungle cat.

“The mind reader was correct. On both counts. A Protector-Charge relationship is usually something that only the Protector would explain- though back when this relationship was more prevalent, it needed no explaining.

Most of the Volturi are very old. A small number of our members have only seen a few hundred years, but most have reached at least their thousandth. When my brothers and I were young vampires, the immortal world was a different place. It was more outwardly violent, with brutal feedings, turnings and deaths in plain sight. Vampires did not hide their natures like we do now; there was no vampire law and order. It was kill or be killed and the number of vampires was a fraction of what there is now, simply because of violence and no one to keep them in check.

If you thought someone looked at you wrong, it was acceptable to rip them apart and burn the pieces- giving a permanent death for something that may not have even occurred.

Vampires that were weaker or lacked a honed fighting skill set often endeared themselves to a vampire that could protect them. If both parties were willing, the stronger vampire would claim the weaker as their Charge and act as their Protector. It signaled to other vampires that if they tried to engage with the weaker vampire, the stronger would be their opponent.

Naturally, my brothers and I regarded all of this unnecessary killing as absolutely barbaric and worked to fix the system. The best way: introduce law and punish those that broke it.

It has been almost 2 millennia since the last Protector relationship was recorded. My brother has decided to enact one now and rest assured, it will send a wave through the vampire world, for though it is no longer practiced, it is still remembered. It will tell our entire world that you are the Charge of one of the Kings- that you are under his protection. There will be scrutiny and potential attacks by those who feel we are unfair and unjust in our rulings, though rest assured Marcus is more than capable of eliminating any threat. The question is: are you prepared for that? Are you prepared to stand next to Marcus as his Charge, disregarding your Bond with the Cullen Sire? I will not have my brother hurt again and I will not have him shamed by offering you Protection and you throwing it away to complete your Bond. It is natural that you feel a Pull to your Mate but you must make a decision before you leave this room and board that plane. Which side will you choose?”

You stared at the blonde king, though you didn’t really see him, soaking it all in.

That was…a lot more than you expected. Not only an explanation, but a demand to make a decision. A part of history, ancient history, was being revived and it included you.

Were you prepared for that?

Were you prepared for the scrutiny and potential judgement from what sounded like the entire vampire world? The Kings were well known, the rulers of their kind, and one enacting an ancient custom, on a human and a Unwanted Bond Mate at that, would definitely be something to garner the attention of immortals around the globe.

Were you strong enough?

You had no desire to complete anything with Carlisle, let alone the Bond. You’d be perfectly happy never to see him again, but were you strong enough to resist the natural instinct and desires of the Pull? Could you stay loyal in this newfound relationship as a Charge and deny the very relationship you had longed for your whole life? A love between two people- a love that would accept you and make you one half of a whole?

Your mind flashed to the impromptu “date” you’d had with Marcus- how cherished and valued he’d made you feel. How attentive and sweet he had been, never making you feel unwanted or a burden but seeming to genuinely enjoy your presence. You thought of how he made you smile with giddiness even the next day and how quickly he had jumped at the chance to go with you to Forks, to the Cullen’s territory, how quickly he was willing to put it all on the line for you and protect you.

Could you stand firm by his side in the face of the whole vampire world and the Bond?

Yes. You could. You would.

Your Bond Mate may not have wanted anything to do with you, may have made you feel worthless and inadequate, made you question the value of your own life.

But Marcus.

Marcus was everything you had hoped for in Love. Everything you had been silently wishing for since you could remember- the things dreams, and Hallmark movies, were made of.

You focused in on the king before who had not moved, but sat silently watching you as you thought.

Lifting your chin with the stubborn determination that had you cussing out vampires since the day you arrived, you looked into ruby red eyes and said resolutely, “I choose Marcus.”

I’ve been feeling that writing itch and am going to actively start updating my stories! After FOUR YEARS. 😂😭

I will be going off of an old list for tags- so if it no longer applies to you when the updates come out, let me know!

Hope y’all are having a blessed 2025 so far.

GOD. I want to slurp Marcus up like some pan cooked egg yolk. …Pardon my strange phrases of affection. Oh to be swept off my feet by some old downtrodden vampire that for the first time in centuries has a little bit of life to his eyes.

Y/N “WHATS WITH VAMPIRES ASKING ME ABOUT THINGS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT?!” L/N

As I am ever the drama enthusiast, I’d like to see some jealous Carlisle and protective smug Marcus. I want Marcus to treat the reader with absolute love & attention and I want to see Carlisle suffer through the everbreaking bond on what he ruined. I want Marcus to flaunt the reader’s happiness, knowing Carlisle will forever regret what he’s missed out on. But I am as ever a Carlisle girlie (/gnc), so that may just be my urge for Carlisle angst.

I hope Marcus & the reader cuddle and kiss and get everything good in life. I genuinely love the wives & the Volturi. I think it would be interesting for the Cullens/Hales to have broken Y/N so far, only for Y/N to stand back up and end up having… accidentally grown the favour of The Vampire Royalty™️. Of course, Caius has yet to be introduced, and he may not ever be. But I think he’s on Y/N’s side, though perhaps more violently inclined than the rest. …As usual, carry on, Caius.

Seeing Marcus GET ON HIS KNEES? Goodness. Goodness Gracious. An old king, on his knees to worship his newly found love… Delicious. He definitely knew we, the reader, had no idea what he was asking when it came to him being our protector. I think he relishes in knowing so much more. In a way, I think he wants to guide the reader, to spoil them. …I’m sure there’s specific tangents that his mind may wander to relating to knowing more but I digress. ;)

Hilarious to think about everyone getting on a plane together awkwardly. Living for the bordering-pain silence that will happen. Or the near constant fighting. I wish luck & money to the pilot. 🫡

Still, completely awed, inspired, and in love with your writing. Your descriptions are not overly detailed, but still descriptive to not leave anything unwanted. Which… I’m unable to explain how much I envy & admire that skill. Whether or not you continue, is absolutely up to you. Of course everyone wants it continued but you’re not a failure if it isn’t. Things change as time goes on. Sometimes things end. That’s life, :)!

I think everyone is far more chaotic when it comes to writing, but something that may help is simply listing big plot points you want to put down. If you’re stuck between an awkward plane scene or a fierce one, maybe have either route hold a different side of the scene. Carlisle’s route, maybe he’s too busy drowning in himself to say anything, and no one wants to inflict Y/N’s wrath again, lest they lose the reader forever. With Marcus’ route, Carlisle is, as much as he can, holding back… until Marcus/the reader is ‘overly affectionate.’ So he gets snarky, passive aggressive, low growls. Etc, etc.

ANYWAYS, sorry to strain your eyes. I hope this wasn’t bothersome. I’d love to read your other stories when I have time. If you ever plan on posting these to Ao3, I’d love to know the username but you’re not at all forced to share. Have a lovely evening, morning, and/or noon! ❤️

Anon,

THANK YOU for the incredibly kind words!!!! I have to admit, I have not been interacting with my blog/my stories on here for so long- this was such a treat to come back to!!!

I’ve never been officially diagnosed with anything, but I do have the attention span of a walnut. So it is hard to say if this series will ever be continued- the walnut is on to other things at this moment, unfortunately.

But I am so humbled by your appreciation for my writing! And I wish I could be more consistent with it.

You are an amazing person, Anon. Thank you.

Guuuuuuuuuuuuuys,

Don’t hate me!!

It is going! I promise! Just slowly and intermittently. I just moved and am still settling in.

But, no excuses! I’m sorry. 🥺🥺

Forgive me?

I have been working on it! I promise!! I need to add more to it, but it is coming along!! (It’d come along faster if these damn characters would cooperate.)

Everyone’s stuck on a plane. So! As soon as I figure this ride out, we’ll make even more progress!!

You do not annoy!

I am just a horrible person. With a shit attention span.

I have not dropped the story- at least not intentionally. But since it’s been over a year since I posted, I get it!

I will try my best to get another chapter up!!

Y’all are seriously the best for hanging in there.

Uhh.... feel free to keep asking if another chapter doesn’t show itself? I gotta be honest- I’ve forgotten about this story for a hot minute. 😅

Hellooo!

I thank you for the compliment! And you are most certainly not a bother. 😊😊

I have actually deleted that story. It didn’t jive with what I wanted my blog/account to be about and after much soul searching and listening to that little Voice inside, just didn’t sit right with me anymore. It actually was a hard decision to make, but I made it.

I am sorry one of your favorites had to go, but nevertheless, I do appreciate you reading my work.

It’s not complete- more of a scene. And it won’t ever be completed. But if you want to run with it- go for it.

Sorry it’s so long without a page break.

Warnings: some strong language, talk of suicide. Not as dark as it sounds.

You work at MI6 in the Admin/Research dept. working on cover stories and recon work for locations/marks/etc.

You work with a handful of other people in the dept and you have a good pal in your desk mate: Katelyn.

All of the agents-Double Ohs included - go into the Research Dept frequently to get folders on their missions and their marks. Everybody knows you-everybody likes you. You’re competent and your peers usually have you look over their work as well when dealing with difficult marks or missions.

You jumped on the couch as the door slammed open, bouncing off the wall. Scrambling to your feet, you looked over to see James Bond filling the doorway, blue eyes spitting sparks. You took a moment to admire him, his aura of danger and confidence dark and practically pulsing around him, before you realized with a start that he was glaring at you.

“…Bond?” you asked hesitantly and, apparently taking that as permission, he stalked into your small apartment in the heart of London. The door was shut in much the same way as it was opened and you gave a wince for your poor neighbors.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, voice pitched low and dangerous. You shivered at the tone, though it wasn’t in fear. Oh dear. You were in trouble.

“Um,” you looked around in confusion at the half eaten tub of ice cream and the movie playing quietly in the background, “no?” It was stated more than asked. Especially since he seemed to have an answer to his question already.

“Then you won’t mind if I join you,” he almost snarled, making his way over to you. Your eyes, about the size of dinner plates by now, widened even more.

“What?” you squeaked out. Bond, the James Bond was all but foaming at the mouth and he was going to stay?

“Going to interrupt any plans of yours?” he bit out and you blinked.

“Plans? Um, no…” A low rumbling sounded through the apartment .

“Are you….are you growling at me?” you gaped in disbelief. Suddenly, you found yourself gripped by strong hands, Bond an inch away from you.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N,” he ground out and the anger that had been slowly building at all his growls and snarls finally sprung forth.

“What are you talking about, Bond?” you growled right back. He blinked for a moment before his face darkened even further than before.

The man stepped closer, if that was possible until you were flush against each other. You felt your stomach flip and you gulped, looking up into his eyes.

Blue eyes stared down at you and the hands gripping your shoulders loosened ever so slightly before he gave you a small shake.

“Katelyn told me about your conversation,” he intoned darkly, an eyebrow rising in a challenge to deny it. Your brow furrowed.

“Conversation? What conversation?” Katelyn and you had had many conversations, the most recent of them centering around the man in your apartment, but you had no idea what topic could have Bond so…well, upset was a bit tame for his current mood….

“Did you really think that I wouldn’t find out?” he growled out, effectively bringing your thoughts back to him. Find out….? Find out!

Your eyes widened. Katelyn wouldn’t…she wouldn’t have told him about your conversation yesterday when you’d said that you were pretty sure you were attracted to 007! No, she wouldn’t have thought that was a big enough deal to tell the Double-Oh in question. Everyone thought that man was attractive.

Then what…?

“You should know by now, that when I claim people as mine, I take an interest in their lives,” Bond continued, eyes glaring down at you. Apparently your silence had already condemned you.

You fought the major blush that threatened to make itself known at his wording. Claimed you as his? Oh, if only!

“Bond,” you started, voice mellow and as soothing as you could make it.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, low and dangerous. You sighed.

“What are you so worked up about? I’m sure everyone’s thought it at least once!” you defended yourself. Really, the only possible answer to his mood was that Katelyn had told him, for whatever reason, that you found him attractive. And apparently, he didn’t like that.

Ouch. There went your pride and self esteem.

“That’s your excuse?” he demanded, voice sounding almost incredulous. “So because everyone else has thought it, you can too?”

“Not quite what I meant,” you muttered as his grip tightened once again. “I just meant that it shouldn’t be a big deal to you! I’m not the first!”

The room went deadly silent and you hesitantly gazed into the glacier eyes above you. You didn’t understand what was so terrible about you finding him attractive, (were you that repulsive?), but he really was making too big a deal out of it. You were shy! It’s not like you would’ve ever said or done anything to him!

“Never say it shouldn’t be a big deal to me,” Bond suddenly hissed and you felt a bit uneasy at the look on his face. You weren’t afraid of him, but you knew what he could do and you also knew that he had a reputation for being unpredictable and out of control. You were in hot water and just starting to realize it.

“Really, Bond,” you murmured, trying to salvage the situation before somebody, most likely you, got hurt, “it’s really not that big of a deal. Can we just…forget I ever said it and you ever heard it?”

His hands tightened on your arms even further and you knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow.

“No,” he answered, voice deadly soft, “I will not forget it.” Suddenly he ripped himself away from you and started pacing the floor furiously.

“Damn it, Y/N! Why can’t you take this seriously?! Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what was going through my head when Katelyn told me? No, of course you don’t. Well, let me tell you something, Y/L/N,” he snarled, “if you want to commit suicide and ‘end it all’ then I suggest you find yourself another job. Because if you stay at MI6, you’re mine and I am not going to let anybody, least of all you, take you away from me!”

Once again, silence rang out in your apartment and you stood there, gaping at Bond.

“Commit…..what?” you asked, mentally going over all your conversations with Katelyn. You telling her that you were going to ‘end it all’ was never part of any of them. YOu were actually quite happy with life where you were, thank you very much. Granted, it’d be better if you had a certain someone to share it with, but suicide? Yeah, never touched on that topic.

“I know your vocabulary is better than that,” Bond spat, finally stopping his pacing. You flinched at the acid in his tone.

“Bond, I never—“

“Expected her to squeal? No kidding. I figured that you didn’t want her to, if our little conversation a minute ago was any indication.”

“No, Bond, I was under the impression—“

“That I didn’t care? Yeah, got that one too. Well here’s a news flash for you, I do. And I will. So I suggest that you take up some counseling because you’re not going to die on my watch.”

“Bond,” you sighed, “honestly, can I get a word in? I’m not going to commit suicide.”

“Damn right you’re not,” the agent in front of you growled. He was suddenly right in your space again. “I’m going to stay here tonight with you and tomorrow, you’re going to a therapist.”

You backed up a step, feeling a bit…flustered, not to mention frustrated, with his close proximity.

“Will you just listen to me?!” you yelled, throwing your hands up in the air in ill repressed ire. “I am not going to commit suicide because I don’t want to! I never planned to and I never talked about it with Katelyn!”

The silence that descended on you was thick and you crossed your arms against your chest, glaring at the agent in front of you. He looked torn between not believing you and wanting to.

“You never mentioned suicide to Katelyn?” he asked finally, voice lower and not quite so angry this time around.

“No,” you said quietly, relief coloring your voice that he finally seemed to be listening to you.

Blue eyes bored into your own, but you stared back at him, refusing to show anything that could be taken as guilt or uneasiness. You’d finally gotten the man to listen to you. You didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt you word.

You were not going to a freakin’ therapist.

“And you’ve never thought about committing suicide?” he pressed, once again stepping forward until he was in your space.

“No,” you repeated, with only a hint of impatience. Really. Why did he believe Katelyn so readily but not you?

“Then you won’t mind if I stay here tonight,” he suddenly said, eyes once again daring you to challenge him. Which, normally, you wouldn’t. But tonight, he’d broken in, interrupted your coveted “alone with a movie and ice cream” time, yelled at and accused you of shit you didn’t actually do and now demanded you house him for the night.

Yeah…not in this lifetime.

“I do mind, actually,” you shot back, eyes narrowing at the agent. “I don’t need a babysitter and now that I’ve told you that I’m not suicidal, there’s no reason for you to stay.”

You turned to the couch and went to sit back down. “Especially with that attitude of yours,” you muttered under your breath. Really, there were days it was like dealing with a five year old. Pretty sure he was supposed to be acting older than you.

“Y/N,” came the warning growl from behind you and you rolled your eyes.

“Seriously, Bond, you can relax, okay? I’m not suicidal, I don’t want to ‘end it all’ and I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” You finally turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Unless you’re going on another mission…?”

The Double-Oh stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “No mission yet.”

You nodded once, “Good. Then I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” You turned your attention back to the movie that had made quite a bit of progress since you’d been so rudely interrupted and pretended to not hear the soft cursing behind you or feel the glare being shot to the back of your head.

There was blissful silence in the apartment for a few minutes, (aside from the movie), before Bond finally piped up, “Really, Y/N? Harry Potter?”

You shot your own glare at him over your shoulder. “For your information, I happen to like Harry Potter. And you’re not even supposed to still be here, so no dissing the movie that’s playing.”

To your surprise, annoyance, disbelief and, you admit, slight pleasure, Bond moved around the couch arm and sat down not two inches from you, grabbing your tub of ice cream off the coffee table and spooning some into his mouth.

“At least you have good taste in this,” he muttered, blue eyes locking onto yours. It took you a second, but you realized he was teasing you. You weren’t aware the man had a playful bone in his body!

Once you got over your shock you managed to answer back, “It’s been known to happen.” You plucked the spoon out of his hand and took your own bite of the chocolate ice cream. “But this is mine. Go grab your own.”

“Now, now, Y/N. I think you should share.”

“Ha!” You barked a laugh, “Whatever for? You broke in here, remember? I didn’t bust into your house!”

“I would advise you never trying that,” he said, suddenly serious. “Good way to get shot.”

“Bond,” you said back just as serious, “I don’t know where you live and I don’t want to know.”

He tilted his head. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I’d probably be tempted to come over and try to shank you in your sleep,” you said with an angelic smile.

Bond met your smile with a dastardly smirk of his own.

“Are you sure it’d be to shank me?”

You gave him a shove with your shoulder as you spooned more ice cream out of the tub still in his hands.

“Yup. Perv.”

His chuckle made a shiver run up your spine and you realized he needed to leave. Like, now.

Putting the spoon in the tub, you leaned back onto the couch and turned back to the movie. “When you leave, would you put that in the freezer and lock the door on your way out?”

He leaned back as well, putting one arm on the back of the couch behind you before he answered. “I’ll put it in the freezer and lock the door, Y/N, but I’m not leaving.”

You turned your head, unintentionally pressing your cheek against his forearm. You had to physically stop yourself from jerking away as if burned. With Bond, showing any kind of weakness wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

And he was definitely a weakness of yours.

“Whaddya mean you’re not leaving? I thought we decided that I didn’t need a babysitter.”

“You mean you decided you didn’t need a babysitter.”

“Bond,” you growled and he shrugged. Shrugged! As if you were discussing the weather!

“Don’t call me a babysitter then. Call me something else.”

“Oh, believe me, Bond, there are several things I’d like to call you,” you muttered hotly, “and none of them are particularly flattering.”

The grin he gave made you almost give in and do pretty much whatever he wanted you to. Someday, this thing you had over Bond was going to get you into so much trouble.

“How about we just say that we’re two friends hanging out, alright? You don’t have to call me anything.”

Since moving to England, you didn’t have a whole lot of friends you hung out with, but you were still pretty sure that it only qualified as ‘friends hanging out’ if both parties were willing. But, you’d already missed about a third of the movie and could feel a headache coming on so you just nodded.

“Fine. Whatever you say, friend.”

Bond gave a small grunt of triumph and relaxed further into the couch after depositing the ice cream on the table once again. Your head was still in contact with his arm, but he was warm and solid next to you, so you decided to just enjoy the rare closeness you had with the man and focused on the rest of Harry Potter.

It wasn’t until the movie was over and Bond was putting the ice cream away that the shit hit the fan. Again.

You were in the middle of stretching when Bond came back into the living room, barefoot and no tie.

“Hey, Y/N, you want—“ he cut off abruptly and you stopped stretching to look at him expectantly.

“Do I want what, Bond?” you asked after a few moments of silence, but the man wasn’t paying attention to you but rather looking at your arms.

Looking down, you saw why.

“Wow,” you murmured to yourself, “I thought I had until at least tomorrow before those showed up.”

“What happened?” Bond demanded, narrowed blue eyes never leaving the dark bruises around your upper arms.

You’d never been good with taking things very seriously, especially if you didn’t find them to be a big deal, but even you had to admit that saying, “Considering the work you’re in, I’m surprised you don’t recognize your own handy work,” was a bit too…crass.

But, it’d already been said so you just gave a small rueful smile and apologized.

Figures, the apology would be what set him off.

“You’re apologizing to me for hurting you?” he demanded, voice loud once again. And here you’d thought you had met your quota for yelling today.

You groaned. “Oh for the love of…. Really, Bond? My neighbors are going to think I’m in some kind of domestic situation if you keep yelling. So, shush and help me get the house ready for sleeping.”

The super secret spy agent looked at you for a long moment while you patiently, (or as patient as you could be), waited for him to come to his senses already so you could get some shut eye.

“I should go,” Bond said after a moment. You crossed your arms.

“James,” you said softly, taking a step towards him, “I really would appreciate it if you stayed.”

The man in front of you scoffed, though blue eyes didn’t leave your own.

“A few minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

You scoffed yourself. “That’s because you were going to babysit me and thought I was suicidal of all things. Which I’m not. But I would like you to stay if you’re willing.”

Bond regarded you for a moment before stepping forward until he was directly in front of you. Warm fingers gently trailed over the darkening bruises on your arms.

“You’re sure you’d like me to stay?” he asked quietly, eyes boring into yours.

I have realized that it’s been almost a year since I last updated??!?! 😱😱

Yes, I am planning on updating! At this point, I don’t have a time frame. We should be getting WiFi soon and so I’ll have an easier time on an actual keyboard than a phone. I’m actually convinced my phone hates me.

Awww!!! Thank you so much!!!!!