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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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Father of Mine – 1/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: Family death, cancer, absent father, cremation

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

“Do you want to say anything before we…” the operator asked her.

“No,” Y/N answered quickly.

“Oh, my assistant forgot to give you this,” the operator gave her a shy smile as he handed her a small cardboard box.

She opened it to find all of her mother’s jewelry that had been on her body at the funeral.

“Thank you,” Y/N told him.

“Ready?” The operator asked.

He had been so kind throughout the whole process. It was obvious he was used to people breaking down and being extremely emotional.

But Y/N had been stoic, almost concerningly so.

Though he wasn’t one to judge. Everyone grieved differently.

With the pull of a handle, Y/N watched her mother’s body going into the chamber.

“It will be a few hours,” the operator told her.

He meant it will it will take a few hours for her mother’s body to burn to ash. Then they would hand her a tacky vase with her remains.

Y/N just nodded. “I’ll go for a walk.”

As soon as she was outside, Y/N called her mother’s executor.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I was just about to call you.”

“I’m at the crematory,” she told him. “I figured we should discuss the bills that still need to be paid for.”

“Yes, of course. As I mentioned to you before, your mother’s life insurance covers quite a lot of it…” his words died out.

“But it’s still not enough,” Y/N finished for him. “I’ll get the money.”

She wasn’t exactly rich, but she also wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck. But people never realized how much money it cost for loved ones to die. It was honestly ridiculous.

“You might want to consider taking out a loan,” he tried to suggest gently.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Another thing, Ms. Y/L/N. There was an envelope with a name on it. And your mother left instructions on delivering the envelope to them.”

She stopped her pacing.

“What name is on the envelope?” Y/N asked.

There was a pause.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Of course she knew who Bruce Wayne was – everyone in Gotham did, as well as most of the country. He was a billionaire playboy, only making headlines when he was a mess. But every once in awhile his philanthropy would sneak in there. Y/N always assumed those were only to help recover his image and not because he was a good person.

“You still there?” The executor asked.

“Yeah. I’m just a bit confused. But please pass it along to him, if that’s what my mom wanted.”

“I can’t. The instructions specifically say for you to deliver the envelop to him in person.”

“In person?” Y/N groaned in annoyance as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Why did all of this have to be so god damn complicated?

“Yes. Her instructions are…oddly specific."

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll pick up everything from your office before the work day ends.”

——————

Y/N stared at the envelop that she’d tossed on her coffee table as she sipped a rather large glass of red wine.

She was wracking her brain trying to think of a time when her mom mentioned knowing Bruce Wayne. But Y/N would’ve remembered her mom saying his name – even in passing. It’s not a name that one can drop casually.

Y/N pulled up her phone and googled him. But she looked at his history. Yes, he was from Gotham, as was her mom, but so were 10 million other people.

But then Y/N’s scrolling paused when she realized they went to the same high school: Gotham Academy. Not only that, they graduated in the same year.

‘Were they friends?’ Y/N wondered.

But just classmates or friends still didn’t seem to warrant a handwritten letter to be delivered after one’s death.

Y/N didn’t open the envelope.

Her mother’s instructions specifically told her not to. And if she put in that much of an effort to get this done after her death, Y/N wasn’t going to ignore such a request.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

“Fuck,” Y/N sighed before throwing back the rest of her wine.

——————

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t grant you access to the building without your name being in the system by the company you’re visiting,” the building receptionist told her for the third time.

“I understand. But I called his office 30 fucking times and they refuse to put me through to him or get me an appointment,” Y/N practically growled.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I already called their office to say you were here and they didn’t recognize your name. I can’t let you through to the elevators.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to the security guard who stood a few feet away. He was eyeing her now that there was clearly an argument going on.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes. She had a good foot on him – even without her heels on. And he looked like he couldn’t run a 50 yard dash without passing out or vomiting. If he thought he was going to physically stop her, he had another thing coming.

“Listen, I am not some crazy fucking stalker. My mom knew Bruce Wayne and in her will she asked me to deliver this to him,” Y/N’s voice lowered and became disturbingly calm. “I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down,” the security guard finally stepped forward.

“Oh, fuck off,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the rent-a-cop.

“Ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he continued.

“Call me ma’am one more fucking time…” Y/N growled.

But the security guard was taking a step to her.

“Excuse me. What seems to be the problem here?” A voice suddenly interrupted.

Everyone turned to see a young man – younger than Y/N – glaring at the security guard just as he was about to grab Y/N.

“M-Mr. Drake, we were just escorting this young woman from the premises,” the guard stuttered out.

Everyone at the building knew every member of the Wayne family. But unlike his siblings, Tim Drake was at the office almost every day. As one should be when they’re the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company.

“For what reason?” Tim Drake asked.

“She insists on seeing Mr. Wayne. But she doesn’t have an appointment. For security reasons, I cannot let her through, obviously, unless the company she is visiting has put her into their system and the building’s system,” the receptionist explained nervously.

Y/N frowned as if she was bored of the whole thing.

Tim stepped forward. “May I ask what your business with Bruce Wayne is?”

Now that he was closer, Y/N noticed how exhausted he looked. He was handsome still, of course. But she wondered when he last got a good night’s sleep. He was shorter than her, probably standing at 5’5. And she still believed he was younger than her, which was wild seeing as he was already the CEO and couldn’t be older than 24.

Y/N sighed before she grabbed the envelope from her black leather satchel, and showed that Bruce Wayne’s name was handwritten on it.

“My mother wished me to personally deliver this to him.”

Tim tilted his head slightly. “Why isn’t she doing it?”

“Because she’s dead,” she shot back without emotion.

But Tim’s face became sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should’ve assumed…”

“It’s fine,” Y/N quickly cut him off before he could continue.

She was so tired of being on the receiving end of people’s sympathy. It didn’t help. And the words stopped holding any meaning to her.

“But I’m sorry. Bruce isn’t in today. And he probably won’t be coming to the office for the rest of the week.”

“Oh,” was all she responded with.

Of course Bruce Wayne didn’t come to work. Why would he?

This was a stupid idea. And now she had made a scene because of it.

“But if you give me your information, I will personally let him know that you are trying to reach him.”

“Really?” Y/N asked in shock.

Tim smiled at her surprise. “Of course.”

“Here’s my card,” she quickly grabbed one from her wallet and then a pen. “All my info is on that.” She wrote something on the back. “And that’s my mom’s name.”

He took it from her and nodded. “What was your mother’s relationship with Bruce?”

Y/N shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure it out. Apparently they graduated in the same high school class. But that’s all I was able to find.”

He nodded.

“Thank you…Mr. Drake. For your help. Really,” she urged.

“Please, it’s just Tim.” Then he glared at the receptionist and security guard. “For you it is, at least.”

“Thank you again,” Y/N felt like saying it 30 more times still wouldn’t be enough.

“You don’t have to thank me. Someone will be in touch. Have a good day, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” she corrected with a smile before she nodded and started backing away.

He smiled at her correction and gave a final nod.

——————

Y/N didn’t expect to hear from anyone for at least a week.

If the Wayne family was one thing, it was busy.

They probably had parties to go to, meetings to attend, private jets taking them around the world whenever they wished.

Why would they ever prioritize a meeting with her, a stranger?

So imagine her surprise when she received a call from an unrecognized number the same day she gave Tim Drake her card.

“Hello?” She answered.

Usually she would let any unknown number go to voicemail.

“Hello,” a British voice answered. “Am I speaking with Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she,” Y/N sat up straighter on her couch.

“This is Alfred Pennyworth. I work for Master Wayne and manage all his personal appointments. I was told by Master Tim that you wished to meet with him?”

“Uhhh. Yes. Yes, I do. Is that…is that possible?”

“Would you be able to stop by Wayne Manor on Friday afternoon?”

Y/N already knew she had nothing going on that would stop her from getting this done. But she still paused to pretend to think about it.

“Yes, Friday afternoon should be fine. Are you sure he doesn’t just want me to stop by Wayne Enterprises?”

It felt oddly intimate to stop by Wayne Manor. Wouldn’t they want to meet her in a more secure location like a corporate building with security that already hated her?

“He is quite certain. Should I send a car for you Ms. Y/L/N?”

A car?

Y/N felt even more out of her depth now.

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Thanks,” she answered before hanging up and realizing that probably wasn’t the proper response to such a polite goodbye.

——————

“I haven’t heard that name since high school,” Bruce had muttered as he stared at the business card for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Yes, and the end of your relationship did not end on the best of terms,” Alfred commented.

Y/M’s/N Y/L/N had been Bruce’s high school sweetheart.

An she had seen the last moments of Bruce’s normal life.

Upon graduation, Bruce decided to leave Gotham and that’s how his second life was founded. The two of them broke up before the summer after graduation had even ended.

Well, “Breakup” was a strong word.

Bruce stopped answering her calls.

She was his first love and he continued to love her.

But once Bruce realized where his life was going and who he wanted to be, he knew he couldn’t drag her into it. She deserved better.

And Bruce was a coward about relationships then. Maybe he still was.

“I am certain you did a thorough background check on her already,” Alfred commented with a smirk.

Bruce took in a breath before listing off all of her accomplishments. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. Graduated number one in her class at Gotham Academy. She was the star of the track team, breaking the regional record for fastest time in 100m, 200m, and 400m races. Also captain of her soccer team. Attended NYU’s photography program before dropping out after a year. Now she’s a professional photography. Her work’s been featured in Vogue, New York Times, National Geographic…amongst others.”

“Rather an impressive woman,” Alfred said.

Bruce nodded.

“I should get the tea and coffee ready for her arrival.” And with that, Alfred left Bruce in the drawing room.

30 minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Bruce glanced down at his watch: she was right on time.

He heard Alfred saying his pleasantries before he heard the clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner to enter the room he was waiting in.

For being a famous photographer, she could’ve been a runway model with her height and the way she walked into the room, completely owning it. She wore four-inch heels, only adding to her natural tallness. And her bright, red coat only added to her presence.

For a split second, Bruce was convinced that he was looking at an Amazon. Diana immediately flashed into his mind for a split second. Perhaps that was what Y/M’s/N needed help with: to get her daughter to her real people. But how would she have known Bruce Wayne had such connections? Unless she knew Batman’s true identity…

As soon as Y/N spotted him in the room, he rose from his seat.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Bruce greeted.

He took a step forward and held out his hand.

“You guys really love the formalities.” She said it with a dark evenness, but it was clearly a joke. “Y/N is fine, Mr. Wayne,” she added as she shook his hand.

“In that case, it’s Bruce,” he countered with a soft smirk.

There was something so familiar about her. But Bruce knew they’d never met.

“Thank you for seeing me. I don’t want to waste anymore of your time,” Y/N quickly got to it. She opened her purse to grab the envelope.

“My mom wanted you to have this. And she wanted to make sure I was the one to give it to you,” Y/N explained as she offered it to him.

Bruce took it carefully, but didn’t open it. “Yes, I heard about her passing. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said hurriedly, making it obvious to Bruce that she did not want nor need his condolences.

Bruce nodded slowly.

There was a pause.

“Do you know what it says?” He asked her lightly.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to read it.”

“I see.”

“I should really be going. I have a flight to catch later tonight.” Most people that visited Wayne Manor wished to stay there forever. Or their curiosity got the best of them and their eyes took in every little detail.

But Y/N looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. And she wanted to get out as soon as she possibly could.

“Thank you again for seeing me,” she rushed out.

Without waiting for his answer, Y/N turned and started walking out of the room.

But she only got a few steps before she stopped.

Bruce watched her shoulders tense and her body move as she was clearly taking in deep breath.

Slowly, Y/N turned around to face him.

“Were you friends?”

Bruce gave her a watery smile. “She was my girlfriend in high school.”

Y/N seemed annoyed by that answer. “She never mentioned you. Not once.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed at that and his eyes zoned out as if he was revising the past in his mind. “I’m not entirely surprised. Things didn’t really end well between us.”

She nodded slowly. “Goodbye, Mr. Wayne.”

And Y/N turned and strutted out of the room without looking back.

As soon as Bruce heard her cab drive away, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a letter.

He barely noticed that Dick had walked into the room. “May I ask…Who was the extremely attractive and tall woman that just walked out?”

But Bruce didn’t hear him as his eyes raced across the letter. His heart sped as he continued reading.

“Bruce?” Dick asked after being ignored. “Is she your next conquest or what?”

It wasn’t until Bruce was done reading the letter for the third time that he finally looked up and acknowledged Dick.

Alfred had also walked into the room, unbeknownst to Bruce.

“You OK?” Dick asked, now concerned with how silent Bruce had become.

“Master Wayne?” Alfred also urged.

“That was…my daughter,” Bruce finally muttered.

Dick blinked before his eyes grew wide in shock.

Alfred seemed less surprised, almost as if he had already put that together.

“Excuse me,” Bruce told them and exited the room.

———

Dick and Alfred must’ve warned the rest of the family not to bother Bruce in the cave. Usually he would’ve been disturbed by now.

Bruce had been at the computer for hours.

Alfred was the first person to come down, carrying a tray with dinner and tea.

The butler wasn’t surprised to find Y/N’s face all over the screens.

If Bruce had left any available information hidden before inviting Y/N to the manor, it was all out there now. Bruce knew everything about Y/F/N Y/L/N that was public knowledge – probably even some things that were not.

“You know, you did not seem all that surprised,” Bruce said to Alfred as he put the tray of food down next to him.

“Seemed rather obvious, didn’t it?”

Bruce quickly turned to look at him. “It did?”

Alfred smirked. “Her eyes,” was all he said.

“The color?”

Alfred shook his head. “As soon as she walked into the manor, they were reading me.” He tilted his head in Bruce’s direction. “Observation. Perception. Attention to detail...That is all you, Master Wayne.”

“The way she held herself,” Alfred continued, "Shoulders held back, head high, walking with purpose. No hesitation.”

“Also me?” Bruce asked.

Alfred simply nodded.

“I don’t think she liked me very much,” Bruce sighed.

He didn’t know how he felt about that yet.

“A lot of people think you don’t like them when you first meet them,” Alfred countered. “Because I don’t trust them yet.”

Alfred raised his brows and silently ask him, ‘Don’t you see my point?’

Bruce rubbed his face and reached for the tea on the tray, ignoring all the food.

“I don’t know why you’re so entertained by this, Alfred.”

“Yes, I was entertained. I just saw a younger, female version of you, Master Wayne.”

“I abandoned her,” Bruce shot.

“You didn’t know she existed,” Alfred corrected.

“And why do you think that is?”

Alfred’s face dropped a little bit when he noticed the envelope discarded on the far end of Bruce’s desktop.

He looked down at the ground as he asked, “Might I ask what the letter said?”

Bruce glared at the letter as if touching it would burn him.

But after a moment, he grabbed it and quickly handed it to Alfred.

Bruce,

If this letter has finally reached you, it is because I have passed.

I must admit that I wrote this letter mostly in the event that I leave my daughter before she is an adult. But once Y/N turned 18, I decided to still pass this along to you.

There is no easy way to tell you this, so I will get to the point.

The young woman who delivered this letter to you is your daughter, Bruce.

Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.

When I found out I was pregnant with her, I was only 18. We had just graduated high school. You had started traveling. You called less and less. And you grew more distant – physically and emotionally. Eventually, you stopped answering my calls altogether. I left you a voicemail, only saying that I so desperately needed to talk to you, that I needed you.

But you never called me back.

With no words at all, you made it very clear that you no longer wanted anything to do with me.

But there I was, a teenager who was pregnant with our child.

I would be lying if I said I never considered terminating my pregnancy. I was scared and you broke my heart. All I wanted to do was erase you from my life.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Once I decided what my future was going to be, I also decided that I did not want you to have any part in it.

I knew even if you pretended to play the doting father and the committed partner, you would grow tired of us eventually. You would resent me and our child for bringing you down. And you would brush us aside for yourself.

I realized I would rather Y/N have no father at all than one who would only disappoint her over and over again.

To this day, I truly believe I did the right thing for all three of us.

There are not enough words to explain the complicated woman that Y/N grew up to be. But I will try my best. I think I owe you that at least.

Or maybe you have no interest.

I don’t know how she became so much like you, even when I never so much as showed her a picture of you or uttered your name.

She enjoys being alone – almost to her own detriment. I constantly catch her repressing her feelings, always staying strong for everyone else. It reminds me of you. She’s assertive and confident, never letting anything stand in the way of what she wants. Sometimes I don’t think she’s scared of anything. It worries me, just like it worried me when I thought the same of you.

I truly don’t know what you will do with this information.

But…if you have any desire to form some sort of relationship with her, then you should know this: she will not make it easy for you. She will push you away. And she might even hate you. I raised her to never need a man in her life, and she’ll make sure you know that.

I don’t expect anything from you. I never did.

But I would just like to know there might be someone who will be there for her should she need them.

Goodbye, Bruce.

Alfred slowly handed the letter back to Bruce when he was finished.

“I pushed her away because I knew what I was about to become,” Bruce explained darkly. “And I didn’t want her anywhere near it. She would’ve been in danger.”

“Y/N, as well,” Alfred added.

“But had I known…if I just listened to her–”

“Master Wayne, I thought we had agreed to never linger on the ‘what ifs.’”

That sure silenced Bruce.

“Now, what do you plan on doing, Master Wayne?”

———

Y/N frowned when her phone started vibrating and she recognized the name of her mom’s executor on her phone screen.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?”

“Fine. How are you?” She was quick, wanting to get this over with. Surely, he had bad news. Another medical bill came in or some other expense that slipped by them.

“Good, good. Just curious…have you placed any payments to our various claims?”

“Uhhh…no. But I’m working on it.”

Y/N hadn’t expected to get a call nagging about paying bills.

“No, no, no. You misunderstand. They’ve all been paid,” the executor explained.

Y/N sat up straighter in her chair. “What? That’s not possible.”

“An anonymous donor. They somehow got record of all your outstanding payments and covered all of them.”

Y/N was stunned to silence.

“Ms. Y/L/N…this is a good thing.”

She blinked and shook her head. “Right. Yes, of course. I just…thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank this guardian angel of yours.”

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

Part 2

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Unbreakable Bond

(A/N): This is based on this post and this tiktok

Summary: A big age gap between Aaron's children doesn't have to mean that they are unable to form a strong bond

Warnings: Mentions of Haley's death and failed relationships

Wordcount: 1.8k

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________________

His life took turns Aaron never expected. It’s not the “Oh, mh, well that was unexpected”-type of turns, I talk about the “God played Cards Against Humanity with angels and decided to make it happen for someone”-type. But looking back he would not want to change a thing.

After Haley and Beth he was convinced that God, the Universe, something out there shared the opinion that romantic love isn’t the right thing for him and Aaron accepted that fact. Even more when he and Jack went into witness protection. I mean, when you are worried about the life of your family being in danger because of a stalker, you don’t think about the beautiful neighbor, who lives next door, right? Right?

Well, without going into too much detail, Hotch did think about her and she about him and vice versa. Everything went good until Aaron received the message that the team found the stalker and that it was safe to come back. He decided to come clean to his girlfriend. They talked about the possibility of moving back to Quantico.

In the end they decided in favor of the move, the final argument was the surprising announcement of her being pregnant. Hotch wants to raise their youngest where his and Jack’s roots are located. But he decides against taking a position at the BAU, instead taking a desk job in order to be more at home. He also has the opportunity to work from home after little (Y/N) was born and continues to do so until she is old enough to go to Kindergarten. Even then he takes two days the week where he stays home. Aaron learned from his decisions and mistakes he made in the past and wants to live up to them and be a better father and husband than before.

And Hotch keeps it to this day, six years later. It’s (Y/N)’s first day of school, while Jack just graduated high school and goes off to college in a few weeks. Even though they have an age gap from twelve and a half years, their parents are sure there are no other siblings with such a strong bond.

Ever since his baby sister’s birth Jack is her biggest supporter, protector and friend. Her first word was his name, though it was more of a “ACK!”, but that’s the best nickname he ever got. As soon as (Y/N) was old enough to comprehend the concept of movies, he introduced her to Star Wars. Since then lightsaber wars out of cardboard pipes are not uncommon. Last Halloween they even dressed up as Chewbakka and Han Solo. You get three guesses on who was who.

“JACK!” (Y/N) runs into her big brother’s room with an excited expression on her face. “Daddy promised to buy me a real lightsaber after I read ten books! With lights and sounds and all! Isn’t that cool?” Jack smiles. Aaron did a similar thing with him. For a certain amount of books he got a reward they discussed beforehand. This way he felt motivated to read and improved writing and reading skills.

“This is awesome. I think that means we have to go book shopping together, what do you think?” (Y/N) is not only the cool kid that has an older brother, she is also the cool kid, whose older brother has a drivers license, a car and a part time job. She nods with big eyes, speechless, because the offer sounds like heaven to her. Getting books and one on one time with Jack after he was really busy with school for weeks? This has to be heaven.

“Ok, then you put your outside clothes on and I’ll tell Dad about our plan.” At that the little girl rushes to her room, not wanting to waste any more time. Jack makes his way down to the kitchen, where Aaron wipes the table from lunch down.

“Dad, I take (Y/N) to this bookstore in DC and we’ll probably go eat ice cream after that. Is that alright?” Hotch looks up at his son. It still feels like yesterday as he told Haley that Gideon is a big no as a baby name. Now he is all grown up and just a few weeks away from the next big chapter in his life.

“Of course, just let me get my wall-” Jack cuts him off. “No need, I want to use this as a kind of goodbye thing. At least until Thanksgiving.” Aaron knows what he means. It’s his last day before he goes off to college and just a couple more until the first classes begin. The family still hasn’t told their youngest exactly what’s going on. Else she would refuse to go to school and go on with her day, insisting on using all the time they have until Jack drives off.

Two hours later the siblings leave the bookstore, both of them having a bag in their hands. Of course Jack's heavier, but both he and the cashier assured (Y/N) that they lift the same amount of weight.

“Uncle Spence will be excited when I tell him that I read Harry Potter, he told me so many good things about it”, the girl gushes. Jack nods, indicating that he is listening. Of course they also picked books that are not that advanced. Still, no sister of his shall grow up without knowing the beauty of the wizarding world. Also, secretly he is hoping for her to turn out as nerdy as he is so they get more things to talk about. His next step is superheroes, especially the Marvel ones.

They converse until they get to an ice cream parlor and order both their usuals. “Do you think you are ready for me to tell you something important?” The older one asks after they sit down at a table. (Y/N) nods, confusion taking over her face.

“Uhm, you know how I graduated from high school? I’m done with school, but I want to get a degree, but for that I have to go to college. It’s pretty far away so I can’t come home for a few months. But I’m back home when Thanksgiving is and also for Christmas.” It doesn’t matter what Jack says, a sad frown has formed on the little one’s face. “Oh. And after Christmas, will you leave again?” He nods and explains when he is off from college and when not.

“We can always skype and write letters. How does that sound? And when you get your first phone, we can even text.” That (Y/N) lights up a bit. For her first year of school she got a stationary set and is eager to use it to this day.

“I’m going to miss you so much”, she says hugging her big brother. Jack pats her back. “I’ll miss you, too.”

The goodbye the next day is a heartfelt matter. Everybody cries, especially (Y/N). She can’t fathom a scenario where her brother isn’t there for her all the time.

The following weeks are also hard for the family. The youngest refuses to sleep alone for the first three days after Jack’s leave. She is more closed off and mainly just does her school work or reads the books he bought for her. By the time Thanksgiving is only away for another two weeks, (Y/N) has read through all of them at least two times.

Her father already ordered the lightsaber he promised her. Unfortunately shipping takes several months, so the little girl still has to wait patiently for her reward to arrive. In the meantime she works on getting the next and she is already pretty close to the comic book collection she wants.

“Sweetheart, can you set the table, please? Your Mom will be here soon from grocery shopping and she will need help getting them from the car into the house”, Hotch calls for his daughter while stirring in a pot.

The little girl nods, putting her stationary set and pens aside to do as her father asked. She is in the middle of answering her brother’s last letter, telling him that she is now the one that usually has to read aloud for the class because of her advanced skill for a first grader.

Just as she sets the last piece of silverware down the doorbell rings. “Sweetie, can you please open it? This should be your mother.” Happily (Y/N) runs up and turns the door knob. Over the last few months she hit a small growing spurt and is finally tall enough to reach it without standing on her tippy toes.

“Mo-” She nearly chokes on her own saliva. The one at the door is definitely not her mother. “JACK!” (Y/N) runs up to him and jumps onto his leg. “Hey Princess. I thought now that you read your books, we need to hold the most amazing lightsaber fight in history.” With a mischievous smile he pulls two from his back, giving one to his baby sister.

It is the most epic fight in history between an elementary schooler and a college boy. They can only be stopped by their parents announcing that it is a tie between both of them and that they have to sit down, else the food gets cold.

The following weeks mostly consist of (Y/N)’s joyous laughs and cuddling with her big brother. She even insists on him sleeping with her in her much smaller bed. On his last night before going back to college, the little girl turns to him in the middle of watching her favorite movie in the living room.

“Do you promise not to forget me when you are away? Because I alway think about you and tell my friends so much about you. I told them you are a hero, my hero, just like Daddy. They wanna meet you because of that.” Jack has to hold back tears at her statement.

“I also think of you so much. All of my friends at college are pretty jealous of me having such a sweet baby sister. Maybe one time you can visit me and I can introduce you to them.” The thought of that makes (Y/N) smile and is a little consolation to the thought of her brother leaving again.

Aaron watches the interaction going down, happy to see the strong bond between his children, despite their age gap. This is nothing like he and Sean were and that is a relief for him and the worries he had in the beginning. It is a sign that he did do some things right as a father.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

#aaron hotch x child!reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x child!reader #jack hotchner #jack hotchner x sister!reader #jack hotchner x reader #x daughter!reader #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch #x child!reader

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zafirosreverie · 3 years

Text

Must be the eyes (Teacher!Agatha x Fem!Student!Reader)

Here it is! first part of the TxS au! Let’s get this party started!

----

"And who exactly was the villain then, Miss Y/L/N?" You gnashed your teeth when your teacher looked at you behind the frame of her glasses, with her piercing, stupidly beautiful blue eyes and a raised eyebrow.

You flinched a bit from her gaze, but you refused to back down, you never had and you weren't going to start now, no matter how hot your cheeks got or how close this damn woman stood to you.

Agatha Harkness, Westview’s University history professor, terror of the first years and your crush since the first class you had with her. Her blue eyes had captivated you from the first moment, as had her slightly wavy hair and mocking smile. Her sarcastic and dry sense of humor was also something you loved, plus she was incredibly smart and not afraid to show it. Beautiful, smart and taught your favorite subject. Yup, you were completely under her spell.

But you hated it when she argued with you in front of the whole class, especially for things like this. It always made you feel so small and helpless, even if you didn’t show it on the outside.

She had asked your class for an essay on Greek myths, and you had chosen Medusa’s. Miss Harkness had said that you should express your views, with clear and concise arguments, which took you most of the week to investigate. But it seemed that you had not been clear enough.

Either that, or your teacher really hated you and enjoyed challenging you in front of your classmates, expecting you to break up and argue with her, so she could send you to detention. Well, you wouldn't let her win that easy.

You forced a smile and looked up. She was right in front of your chair, looking down at you as she waited for your answer.

"Athena and Poseidon" you said confidently "They are the villains"

"Interesting posture" she smiled, but it was a smile that reminded you of the cheshire cat "Although that doesn't take away the blame for the lives she took, does it?"

"It wasn't her fault either," you said, frowning.

"Oh it wasn’t?" she asked. You suppressed a gasp when she rested her hands on your table and leaned forward. You could feel her minty breath on your face "And whose fault was it, Miss Y/L/N?" she asked.

"Men’s" you gulped "Those who went to look for her"

"Explain" she ordered. Her eyes never once left your face.

"They went looking for her. They tried to kill her, what was she supposed to do? Let herself be killed? Besides, it wasn't her fault that Athena turned her into that, she didn't ask to turn people to stone" you said, crossing your arms and leaning toward back in your seat.

Anyone would think that your gesture was one of challenge, considering that your face was neutral and your eyebrow was raised slightly. But inside you were screaming and having a panic attack.

Agatha smirked in her head at your attitude. She wouldn't tell anyone even if she was under torture, but she loved having these little discussions with you. You were the only student brave enough to argue with her, and you were brilliant in the way you did.

On the other hand, you were also incredibly cute and she would lie if she said that she didn't like to make you blush, your eyes lit up a bit and the red on your cheeks really contrasted beautifully with your skin. She knew it was wrong, that as a teacher she shouldn't find any of her students attractive. But she couldn't help it, there was something about you that just fascinated her.

Most of her fellow teachers had already noticed the strange dynamic she had with you, but they took it as a simple student/teacher rivalry, stemming from the fact that you seemed like a history prodigy, which presented a vast battlefield for Agatha, it was no secret that the woman was competitive, after all.

The only one who seemed a little suspicious of what was really going on was Wanda, the literature teacher. She had been one of the best students in the university and had returned as a teacher 5 years ago and because their subjects shared a field of investigation, she and Agatha ended up spending more and more time together, until they became good friends.

It was fun having someone to judge and gossip about both the staff and the student body. But that also meant having to endure the teasing of the younger woman every time you walked by Agatha.

Of course, she had scolded Wanda for even suggesting that she was attracted to you, a student, and the redhead had apologized, saying that she was only joking, but she wasn't sure how long it would be before her friend became suspicious again. Not that the history teacher was that subtle with the way she looked at you.

Still, Agatha Harkness had certain principles, and she knew that she couldn't flirt with you as long as you were her student, so she was content to make you blush and nervous when she was around you.

“She broke Athena’s rules” she said, almost growling.

“Poseidon raped her. That wasn't her fault” you growled back. You cursed yourself for being so passionate about this. Your classmates probably thought you were an idiot for fighting a teacher.

"You seem quite determined to defend the monster," she accused, frowning. She pushed herself off your bench and turned to the rest of the class, letting you breathe for a second. "Not many people would pay attention to Medusa, a hideous and dangerous creature. But she seems to have won Miss Y/L/N’s heart" she said, making your classmates laugh and you blushed again.

"It must be the eyes" you mumbled without thinking.

Your teacher looked at you for a moment before smirking. Fortunately, it seemed like she didn't have time to keep arguing with you. Blessed heavens for that. You heard the ring bell and sighed in relief, starting to pack your things.

“Remember that the project is due for next monday” Ms Harkness said and you hear some groans from your classmates. You chuckled as you left the classroom.

“It’s not fair” you heard your friend Nick saying beside you “She didn’t give us enough time!”

“What do you mean?” you asked “I finished it three days ago”

“But you don’t count!” he frowned “you’re good at history! I can’t even remember my sister’s birthday!”

“Nick, you don’t have a sister” you rolled your eyes fondly

“And? I wouldn’t remember her birthday anyway”

You laughed and playfully punched his shoulder. You and Nick have been friends since your first day here and you were thankful for that. He was the only one who knew about your crush on Ms Harkness, which was a blessing but also a nightmare. He loved to embarrass you.

“So, what was that Y/N?” He asked suddenly

“What?” you frowned

“The whole Medusa’s thing”

“Well, she wasn’t a monster and-”

“No no, don’t give me a history lesson, I already had enough of that. I was talking about you and ‘Ms magical eyes’ almost kissing” he smirked as you coughed and almost tripped.

“What?!” you hissed “The hell you’re talking about?!”

“Oh c’mon Y/N!!” Nick laughed “She was practically lying over you!”

“That’s not true” you crossed your arms

“It is” he crossed his arms too “Y/N,I love you, but you can be so blind sometimes”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, a little offended

“Y/N, we all could feel the sexual tension between you two” he laughed and left you frozen in the hall.

_____________

“No” Agatha frowned and crossed her arms

“Please” Wanda begged

“No, I’m not going to babysit a bunch of spoiled kids” the older woman said

“Okay, first of all, they’re college students, not from the kindergarden” the redhead frowned “and this could be an amazing opportunity!”

“For what? I already know about the Salem trials, love, I’m more than capable of teach my students about it without having to taking them there”

“But it would be more fun for them” Wanda argued

“I teach history, buttercup, it’s not supposed to be fun for them” the brunette smirked while the other woman rolled her eyes.

“We both know you don’t actually think that. You love your class and want them to love it too”

When the other woman shrugged and started reading again, totally ignoring her, Wanda knew it was time for plan B. She kneeled in front of Agatha and gave her puppy eyes.

“Pleaaaase” she cried “I need another teacher if I want permission to do the trip”

“Then ask Monica” Agatha said, not looking up from her book

“She has a game next week with the basketball team” Wanda said “Besides, as the history teacher, your class is the most similar to mine, it just makes sense if we both go”

“I’m not going Maximoff, period”

Wanda sighed and stood. “Fine.Thanks for nothing, Harkness” she pouted and left the teacher’s room.

Agatha rolled her eyes, she knew the other woman would get over it in a few hours.

____________

“I just say that witches are cool” you said as you and Nick walked through the hall

“They are Y/N, but visiting an old town isn’t exactly my idea for a good summer trip” he said and you rolled your eyes “Why don’t you go to Disneyland instead?” he joked

“Because I hate gigantic amusement parks” you said “And I really want to visit Salem, it was my dream since i was 9 and i read about witches from the first time. But you know I don't have enough money to do both trips. So, Salem it is for me”

Nick sighed “Alright, you do you, history girl” he joked “But try not to get cursed while you’re there, i don’t want my best friend to be a frog”

You laughed and he put an arm around your shoulders. None of you noticed the brunette teacher walking out of the teacher’s room and who totally heard your conversation.

_____________

Wanda jumped when her office door opened with a slam. She looked at a frowning Agatha, who had her arms crossed and let out a sigh.

“Alright, you win” the brunette said “We’re going to Salem”

The redhead smiled and quickly stood up to run to her friend and hug her tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said.

“But!” Agatha said, gently pushing the younger woman to lock eyes with her “I pick the class we’re taking with us”

“Deal!”

#I really don't know what I'm doing ok #sorry if this sucks ;-;#i think I'm losing my writing abilities #anyway #x reader #reader insert #imagine #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x y/n #agnes x reader #agatha harkness x you #request #must be the eyes #mbte

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13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

Note

requests are still open yay! MontyxOc, Oc dated Monty a year ago.. things didn’t quite work out but her & Monty maintained a close friendship some say a little too close for ex’s. She stared dating (any one of the guys) but Monty continued to flirt with her she wasn’t stopping him either, She feels bad & tells Monty to stop flirting & trying to get with her... He doesn’t she starts to get fed up and on a class trip they argue over it.. the argument however ends much differently (smut)

A/N: This story contains SMUT. DNI if under 18. 18+ only. This is a long one you guys. Definitely bring a snack and a cup of tea to read it. I’m sorry if the spacing is weird. I can’t to hear what you have to say about it! Feedback is appreciated and much love as always. - Em

Friends Don’t

I met Monty in the park. Things had been different between us recently. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He turned in my direction. I sat on a picnic table and watched him for a few minutes. He seemed like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

“What’s going on in that hot head of yours?”

“I don’t know. I don’t… I don’t want to mess everything up.”

“Well how will you know if you do, if you don’t take the chance?” I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this Reagan.” Even though I had a feeling, it still felt like a punch in the gut to hear him say it.

“For what?”

“Things to get serious.”

“Who said anything about serious? We are sixteen.”

“I don’t know. Do you want to pretend that I’m ready to date someone? That doesn’t seem very fair to you.”

I shrugged. He has a point. He’s not exactly in a great place right now. “I guess not.” Even though I didn’t want to, I felt tears starting to well up and the familiar prickle in my nose. I blinked a few times because I knew he was right. It just sucked to hear.

“I don’t want to not have you around though.”

“I know. I don’t want to not have you around either. You know me better than anyone. Best friends?”

“Best friends.”

“And if you ever need anything, I’m there. No matter what.”

“Day or night.”

“Always.”

ONE YEAR LATER

Monty and I stayed close. We kept our promise to be best friends. After all, we knew each other better than anyone. We hung out after school and got coffee. He came over and we watched movies. It was almost like we didn’t break up. Almost. For a while after our breakup things were awkward. We hadn’t really figured out where our boundaries were. After some time, we got comfortable again. Some people would say we were a little too close. It didn’t really matter that much to us if we still flirted or finished each other’s sentences.

It didn’t matter, at least until I started spending time with a certain other jock. Zach Dempsey had caught my eye before senior year but there was something about him that was different that September. He was still kind of cruel, but he was trying. He meant well. He just didn’t always know how to go about things in the best way. I knew what being forced to spend extended time with Bryce walker could do to a person. Zach and I had a few classes together over the years. Our friendship started like a lot of friendships did in school. You got stuck sitting next to someone and so you had to decide if you wanted to ignore them for the rest of the semester, or if you wanted to make your semester not suck and play nice.

We decided on the latter that first day of world history. He was late to class and the only empty seat was next to mine. I had spent time around him when Montgomery and I were dating so we were able to at least talk to each other. Our interactions consisted mostly of homework and school stuff for about a month or so. Then, slowly, we started talking about our interests and other things on our way to lunch. On one such walk to lunch, he told me about his dream of becoming a marine biologist.

“Seriously?” I asked him.

“Yeah. It’s cool. Why?”

“I don’t know. I just guess I pegged you as a guy who would want to do the athlete thing and get a business degree in case you didn’t get drafted.”

“Nah. That… that isn’t really in the cards for me.” I nodded.

“I want to go into social work.”

“No way, really?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t elaborate on why I wanted to. That was not my story to share.

“Zachy!” Scott called across the room when we got to the cafeteria.

“I- I should probably get going.” He stammered.

“Yeah. My friends are waiting.” I waved over at Jess and Alex. Zach started to walk away but turned around again.

“Did you want to get a coffee or see a movie sometime?”

“Like, together?”

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugged, trying to play it cool.

“I think I’d like that. Oh, and can you tell Montgomery and Bryce Cheerios is not lunch?” I laughed.

“But they are.”

“I guess we can discuss it over coffee.” I smiled.

“Wednesday after school?”

“Sure.”

I sat at a table with my friends. “So. I’m going on a date.” Jess and Alex looked at me with wide eyes.

“Shit. No way.” Jess smiled.

“Yeah. Zach Dempsey.” I explained, answering their unspoken question.

“Zach is nice.” Alex added.

“And he’s like… really good looking.”

“I know, right?”

“Tall.”

“Very tall.”

“Doesn’t have an anger problem.” Jess muttered under her breath. My smile faltered. I looked up and Monty’s eyes were on me. My phone vibrated. Cheerios is lunch pretty girl. I rolled my eyes. Zach said he has a date. Wouldn’t happen to be a certain girl in his world history class, would it?

I’ll give you details after. And why do you care?

On Wednesday I got a ride with Justin and Clay to school. My car was in the shop for maintenance and my house was on the way from theirs. After school, Zach drove me to Monet’s. I got to ride shotgun in the Audi. The wind feels different. Maybe it’s because this car costs more than my education will. He was a safe driver, I noticed. Soon, we had parked outside the cozy little café. We didn’t hold hands on the way inside.

Inside, I ordered a hot chocolate, and he got a cup of tea. “You like pomegranate?” I asked when we sat down.

“Yeah. It’s tart.”

“It’s pretty good. One of my favourite tea flavours.” We made small talk for a while. I wasn’t sure when the last time he had been on a date was. I hadn’t been on a real date since Monty and I broke up last year.

“Your opinion on Cheerios is wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Yeah. It’s lunch food. Or breakfast food. Hell, even dinner food.” I shook my head.

“I will never understand boys.” He laughed and picked up his spoon. “What are you doing?”

“Just watch.” He breathed on the spoon and tried to balance it on his nose. I giggled and it stuck for maybe three seconds before falling to the table. I burst out laughing.

“Can I try?” I picked up my own spoon.

“Go for it.”

“Okay, okay how do I do this?”

Zach reached over and took the spoon, holding it in front of my mouth. “Breath on it.” I did. “Now before it dries, take it, and place it on the end of your nose.” I did as he said. It fell instantly.

“Try again?” He waved. I tried again and it fell, yet again. “One more. I think I know the spot now.”

“Go on.” This time, I was able to get it to balance for four seconds. “Does this make me champion?”

“Sure. Until we have rematch.”

“A rematch you say?”

“Yes.”

“I look forward to it. Mostly so I can win again.” I smirked slightly. We spent the next couple of hours just talking to each other about stuff. Mrs. Dempsey called him home around five.

“Yeah Mom. I’m just out with the guys going over some plays. I’ll be home soon.”

“I take it I’m getting my refill to go?”

“Yeah. It seems that way. I’ll drive you home.”

We went on like that for the next few weeks. We would meet for coffee or meet up to see a movie. Go for walks in the park or by the docks. It was nice. Different than what Montgomery and I had, but it was a welcome change. We went public at school before we decided to tell our parents. My parents weren’t exactly ecstatic about me dating in my senior year and I knew how his mom felt about girls in his life. I was still talking to Monty. All the while, we had kept up the flirty banter we had started a few weeks after our breakup. Zach didn’t seem to mind much. “Good morning Beautiful.” He said as he walked over to my locker that morning.

“Hey 85.” I smiled brightly at him.

“You look very cute.”

“Why thank you kind gentleman.” I grabbed my bag off the floor and shoved my geometry book in it. Zach threw his arm around my shoulders as he walked me to class. I rested my head against him and we chatted about our night.

“So, you guys are public now.” Monty said, walking up to us with Charlie in tow.

“That’s really cute.” Charlie said.

“Yes.” I smiled. I felt Monty’s eyes traveling my body and I couldn’t help the blush that crept up my neck.

“Yeah.” Zach said.

“That’s great.” Monty replied. When we walked away, he called out, “I’ll see you around Reagan.”

I turned and called back to him, “yes you will.”

In the following few days, Monty kept up with the flirting. I didn’t stop it. I found it kind of amusing. “Going to harp on my lunch choices again Rea?”

“No. You’re an adult. I trust you to make proper choices.”

“Now, Reagan. You should know I’ve never been good with proper.” I rolled my eyes. Oh, I know.

“Seems to have done you pretty well so far. How’s… uh… collarbone tattoo?”

“Katie?”

“Sure.” He merely shrugged.

“How’s Zachy?”

“Zach is good.” Zach said, sitting down at the table. I swatted Monty’s hand away when he reached for a cookie.

“And you should know by now to not touch my food Montgomery.”

“Oh. She full named you. What’s it like to be called out by your ex like that, man?” Bryce asked.

“You don’t get a cookie either Bryce.”

“Reagan.” He held his hand up to his chest. “You wound me.”

“That’s sad for you.” I shrugged. Zach turned to me and shot me a megawatt smile.

“Do I get a cookie?” I thought for a moment.

“You can get half a cookie.”

“It’s half more than I had before.”

“I’m his best friend. Can I have the other half?” Justin asked when he sat down.

“No. My cookies.”

“I’ll trade you my Milky Way for that half.”

“No.” I laughed. “You’re sure you’re okay to come to my place later?” I asked Zach.

“Yeah. It’s just your parents. Parents like me.”

“Did he just say ‘just your parents’?” Monty looked at me with wide eyes. I shrugged. “Reagan.”

“Monty.”

“Your dad threatened to shoot me.”

“My parents never really liked you though.”

“Gee, I wonder what gave you that impression?”

“What would have?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe when her dad threatened to shoot me.”

“Parents don’t like you. They’ll love me.” Zach beamed.

“They don’t like you because you ruined their daughter.” Bryce laughed. Again, I shrugged. Can’t really argue with him there. Monty merely smirked, proudly. Ugh men.

“Anyway. You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. And can you remind me again why we sit here?”

“You get to see me.” Monty chuckled.

“No. No I don’t think that’s why.”

“Hurtful.”

In the few months after Zach and I started dating, his mom had come around to the idea of me being in his life. I spent time at his house, mostly working on homework or helping May with hers. It was tense at first but she came around eventually. Once she realized I only wanted what was best for her son. My parents were getting more used to the idea of me dating again. They saw how we interacted and seemed to approve more than they did with Monty. I had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the fact that I wasn’t emptying the first aid kit my mom kept stocked every month or so.

Monty and I were still close. He had recently started seeing a girl named Kyla. I wasn’t sure how serious it was but figured it could be good for him. It didn’t stop him from flirting with me though.

“Good morning gorgeous.”

“Good morning Montgomery. Good night?” I laughed.

“Of course.”

“How was your date with Kyla?” I asked.

“It was good. She cooked for me.”

“That’s nice. Was it good?” Charlie asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“I mean, sure. Some kind of spinach something or other?”

“You hate spinach.” I said.

“Yes. And you hate tha-.” Monty started. I saw Zach walking towards us.

“Shhhh.” I cut him off. “Hey babe.”

“Hey beautiful.” Zach pulled me into a hug and placed a kiss on my head. “How was dinner at Alex’s last night?”

“It was good. His mom let me bring contraband in the house.”

“Contraband?” Bryce asked.

“He’s not allowed to have junk food.” Charlie explained.

“Something about healthy body healthy mind or something.”

“She’s not wrong Rea.” Zach said.

“I know but still. Let the kid have a candy bar once in a while. It won’t hurt him.”

“He prefers sour patch kids.”

“I know.” The bell rang and interrupted us. I sighed heavily and took Zach’s hand. He walked me to math and kissed me on the cheek as he left. I smiled brightly at his retreating form.

Monty texted me in math. As I was saying, you hate that you and Zach haven’t fucked yet. Have you even gotten to second base yet?

None of your god damn business.

I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry. It’ll happen eventually. I could get Charlie to get Alex to talk to him. Or you could let me talk to him.

No!

What? You don’t want me to tell him all your dirty little secrets?

I swear to God, De la Cruz. I will wring your neck in your sleep.

You’d be doing my dad a favour. You’d at least get past the front door.

I’d wring his first. Now stop texting me and learn some shit.

Fine.

Zach sat with Alex, Jess, and I at lunch. Kyla was sitting with Monty. I got the impression that she didn’t really like me all that much. In order to avoid a catfight-as much as I think the boys would like to see it- I found it best not to sit with them when she was around. Plus, it gave me a bit of a break from all the sports talk I had to pretend to care about. I shared my granola with Jess. Alex ‘stole’ my gummy bears. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had the other bag in history. Zach kept my little secret. I felt him watching me out of the corner of his eye. He was talking to Alex about some video game. Jess and I rolled our eyes. “Boys.” We said in unison.

That weekend, Zach and I went for a walk along the docks. It was a beautiful day outside. We walked hand in hand just talking. When we felt like taking a break, we sat down on a bench overlooking the water and watched the waves. He put his arm around me and pulled me into his side. He was whispering sweet nothings in my ear. “Part of me wishes it was cold out, so I could offer you my sweater.”

“Me too.” I smiled.

“You look adorable in them.”

I giggled and hid my face in his shoulder. “I do not.”

“You do though.”

“Okay.” I blushed. He grinned at me as I peeked up at him.

We spent another hour walking and enjoying our time together. When it started to get dark, Zach walked me back to his car. He held the door open for me and kissed me before closing it. He is so sweet. The radio was playing softly. We sat in content silence for most of the drive. The purr of the engine lulled me into a peaceful sleep. “Reagan.” He whispered. I didn’t want to wake up. “Reagan. Baby, wake up for a second please.”

“Hmm?” My eyes stayed closed

“I just wanted to know if you want anything from Starbucks.”

“Sleeping.”

“You can stay in the car and sleep if you want.”

“Kay.”

“I’ll get you something.” He whispered and kissed my temple before getting out and locking the car. When I woke up, there was a cup of tea in the cup holder for me. So thoughtful.

I was in the middle of getting ready for a date with Zach when someone rang my doorbell. Running to answer it, my eyes widened when I saw Monty. His cheek was already starting to bruise and his knuckles were bloody. “Hey.”

“Uh. Hey there friend.” Blood was dripping onto my porch. “Just a sec.” I held up a finger and ran to grab a towel. He wrapped it around his hand before stepping inside. Thankfully there won’t be blood on the floor now. He stood in the entryway. “How’s the other guy?” I asked as I pulled out my phone to text Zach. Monty didn’t answer.

I’m so sorry. I have to cancel tonight. I think I’m coming down with a cold. I want to try to nip it in the bud and sleep it off.

That’s okay. Do you want me to come over? I can bring you soup.

No, thanks though Zach. I’m just going to go get ready for bed and sleep so I can be better by Monday.

Okay. I’m just a text or call away if you need anything. <3

Thank you. <3

Now that my plans with Zach were taken care of, I was able to focus on the boy at my front door. “You know you don’t have to just stand there. You’ve been here before since we broke up.”

“I know. I just wanted to give you some space while you dealt with whatever plans you and Zach had.” He walked into the house further before adding, “which you didn’t have to do.”

“It’s not a big deal. I told you I would be here for you, whatever you need. Do you want some ice for your hand?” I dug around in the freezer for the tray. He tried to protest but I saw the thinly veiled wince when he flexed it. Sighing, I pulled out the freezer bags and filled one with ice. Monty accepted it begrudgingly.

“I didn’t need ice Reagan.”

“And I don’t need five million dollars Montgomery. If you don’t want it though, I’ll gladly take it back. I’m sure Kerba would love to hear about whatever bullshit reason you give for your hand being fucked again is.” He shut up and kept the ice.

“Think he would believe me if I said it was an exercise accident?”

“No.” I stated, shaking my head. Monty moved into the living room, settling in on the couch. Grabbing the remote with his good hand, he started scrolling through channels.

“You know if you hit the guide button, you can just pick a channel.”

“Yeah, but then you don’t complain about it and I can’t irritate you.”

“And I wasn’t done.” He didn’t respond, so I went into the closet for my mom’s first aid kit. She kept it stocked at all times. It was hard explaining why it was so depleted so frequently when Monty and I were together and even harder to explain why it was full after we broke up.

Walking over to the couch, I sat down and opened the kit. I grabbed some gauze and took his hand in mine. There was too much blood, so I had to go get a cloth. His lip curled when the wet cloth touched his cut knuckles. My brow rose but I didn’t say anything. Monty grimaced as I wrapped his hand. “Is your cheek okay?”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah. You don’t need to feed me too Reagan.”

“Okay.” I let him continue flipping channels, knowing when to not push him. He never was very nice when I was patching him up. He finally settled on some old black and white film. Neither of us watched it. We just spent the night sitting in silence. It gave me plenty of time to think about the fact that I had lied straight through my teeth to my very nice, charming boyfriend.

A couple of weeks after I had patched Monty up, I noticed he wasn’t at school. I was walking to my locker with Alex that morning. Scott was talking to Charlie about something when we passed. “I don’t know where he is, man.”

“But we have a huge government midterm today.”

“It’s Monty. He probably just overslept or decided to cut first period.” I stopped walking unconsciously. Then where is he?

“You’re probably right.” Charlie said, as he adjusted his bag. He bumped into me when he passed. “Sorry Reagan. Guess I didn’t see you there.”

“Huh? No worries Charlie.” I smiled as he took Alex’s hand and nodded to them when they left me in the hall.

“He isn’t at school yet.” Scott said, behind me.

“Okay. I don’t know why you think I care but whatever.”

Scott looked at me seriously. “You care. Might want to look like you care less though. His replacement is coming this way.” I didn’t respond.

By lunch, I had started to worry. Charlie was right. We had a government midterm today. Monty couldn’t miss it. I scanned the cafeteria. There was no sign of him anywhere. He wasn’t in math this morning either. I couldn’t stop myself from texting him. I know you aren’t this self-destructive. Get your ass to school.

“Hey baby. Who’re you texting?”

“Just Bryce. I loaned him some of my government notes in first so he could cram. I just need them back.” Zach took my hand and we walked to the jocks table. Still no sign of Monty. I didn’t sit down. “Hey Bryce, did you get my text?”

“Uh. No?”

“About my government notes that you borrowed?”

“What-?” I gave him a look. “Oh. Yeah, I put them in my locker. Meant to bring them to lunch but it slipped my mind.”

“Can we go get them? I wanted to read over them during lunch.”

“Sure?”

“Great.” I nodded towards the door. He stood and followed me out.

“So, what the hell was that?”

“Did Monty stay at your place last night?”

“No. It’s probably nothing. You know how he is. Disappears sometimes.” We stopped walking and stepped into an empty hall.

“Yeah. It’s just that he knows this is important. I worry is all. Unlike you, he actually needs to get a scholarship.”

“I need to too Reagan.”

“You don’t. But go ahead and think that if it helps you sleep.” I shook my head and pulled my history notes out of my bag. “We’ve been gone a while. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.” I texted Monty again while we walked in silence back to the cafeteria. If you aren’t in government I will drive to your house and kick your unfairly shapely ass. You better have a damn good excuse for not being here.

When I got to government for fifth period, I sighed in relief. Monty was sitting in his seat next to mine. “Nice of you to finally show up.” I grumbled as I sat down.

“I was busy.”

“It’s a Wednesday during school. During midterm week no less. What was so important?”

“Kyla got a new piercing a few weeks ago.” He smirked.

“You’re disgusting.”

“What? Have you and Zach still not?” My silence spoke volumes. He snorted. “No wonder you’ve been so bitchy lately. Want me to talk to him? Explain that you have needs?”

“No. I want you to not skip school to fuck your,” I paused, “Kyla. Because you aren’t a dumbass.” Even though I was pissed at him, I still waited for him until he had finished his test. We stopped at his locker so he could drop off his books.

Zach was waiting for me at my locker. We had rescheduled our movie date to today under the guise of making sure my cold was for sure gone and until midterms were complete. “Hey Zachy.” I hugged him and kissed his chest.

“Hey beautiful. How was your midterm?”

“Not bad. I think I did okay.”

“That’s good. How was it actually Monty?”

“Could have been worse. No one cried, which kind of sucks.”

“Good to know.” I put my stuff in my locker, failing miserably at the organization I had at the beginning of the year.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Monty. At eight. When you’re supposed to be at school.”

“Okay. We can go with that. You kids have fun now.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. A blush had started to creep up my neck though. Maybe tonight.

When we got to my place, I left Zach downstairs to go change. I threw on underwear that matched my bra. Just in case. I settled on a pair of yoga pants that framed my ass well and threw on a low-cut comfortable tank top. Back downstairs, Zach was taking a bag of popcorn out of the microwave. I felt his eyes go straight to my butt as he heard me come down. I smirked slightly. I hugged him tightly from behind at the counter. “You’re cute.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You are. My giant teddy bear you. Oh, and there’s a box of Mike & Ike’s in the pantry for you.”

“Thanks.” He grinned.

We scrolled through Netflix for a few minutes. Nothing looked really interesting until we scrolled past Beautiful Creatures. It’s good to make out to. And I like it. Settling in for the night, I rest my head on his lap. I sighed happily as Zach stroked my hair. It was so nice to just have a quiet night in with him. He adjusted his position slightly a while into the movie and I sat up to change positions as well. Falling asleep was not in the plans for this evening. He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer against his chest. Leaning back, I rested my head on his shoulder. I placed a few soft kisses on his neck and jaw.

Zach’s breathing picked up when my lips ghosted over a spot just under his chin. There it is. I smiled against it and kissed it again. He sighed and I pulled away to look at him. His pupils were slightly dilated. I leaned in to kiss him. He leaned in and our lips touched. It was soft and gentle at first, but quickly became deeper and more intense. This wasn’t the first time we made out at all. But this time felt different. More meaningful. Maybe it was the right choice to change my underwear. His tongue ran along my bottom lip, requesting entrance. I was more than happy to accommodate it. His hand made its way around to rest against the back of my neck. My body shifted into a kneeling position on the soft couch, so I had a better angle. One of my hands rested on his chest. The other wound its way around the back of his neck to play with the soft hairs at the top of it. So soft.

Our tongues playfully fought for dominance. Neither of us seemed too keen on winning. We were just enjoying the moment. The movie was still playing in the background, though neither of us cared. My hand traveled down his muscular body as our making out intensified. I played with the hem of his shirt. I wasn’t wanting to take it off. But I also wasn’t not wanting to take it off. My boyfriend has a very nice body. Zach took control and began leaning forward. He continued until my back hit the cushions. After some readjusting, I was laying comfortably with Zach’s large frame above me. I smirked slightly when I felt his pants beginning to tent. He only pulled away long enough to sit up and pull his shirt over his head. Ugh that is the hottest thing any man can do. The blue shirt dropped to the living room floor unceremoniously.

He kissed me once more before moving on to my neck. The initial kisses were light and teasing. He was still trying to draw a map of where all the sensitive spots were. I gasped when he brushed over my pulse point. Zach smiled softly against it. The kisses turned much less light and teasing after that. It was both sides under attack now. It felt so good. I couldn’t stop the quiet whimpers from escaping. I moaned his name and ran my fingers through his hair. Why do men get the super soft hair? God. This feels amazing. “I love you.” He breathed into my neck. My breath caught in my throat. What? It wasn’t like I had never thought I loved him. I did. I was just surprised that he said it first. When I didn’t say it back immediately, his kissing faltered. I didn’t mean to hesitate.

“I love you too.” I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it.

We continued making out for a while until it got too close to my parents getting home. It was a long weekend, so they didn’t care much if he was over late. We were both adults. On weekends, they trusted us to be alone later. Even if alone meant ‘my parents are in their room upstairs or down the hall so shhh’. On school nights, Zach was gone by ten thirty. Even though they trusted us, none of us needed to experience them walking into the house to see their daughter and her boyfriend getting hot and heavy on their couch. Instead, we cozied up on the couch under a blanket and watched a couple more movies. “It’s getting late Reagan. I should head home. Mom will probably send Deputy Standall to come get me soon.”

“Okay.” Zach and I walked to the door and hugged goodbye. I stood on my tip toes and kissed him gently. “I love you.” I whispered.

“I love you too.” He whispered back.

The next morning, I woke up with tiny purple marks on the sides of my neck. He doesn’t usually leave marks. I like it. I wore my hair down so my parents didn’t see them. I may be an adult, but they still preferred I didn’t go around sporting hickeys all the time. Probably part of why they hated Monty so much. My mom felt it was anti-feminist. It was letting a man mark their territory and property. I usually challenged that with her wedding set. Dad just preferred not to think of me as being in a physical relationship. He was aware of it of course. Just preferred not to acknowledge it. Which, I mean, fair.

At school, I couldn’t leave my hair down. It was too hot. I threw it in a high ponytail in history. Zach breathed in sharply when he saw my neck. I turned and smiled at him. “Thank you.” His eyes widened and he coughed to cover a groan. During lunch, I could feel the boys staring at me as they arrived at the table.

“Damn Zach. Didn’t think you had it in you.” Bryce sniggered. I rolled my eyes.

“I did. You finally corrupted him, Reagan?” Justin wiggled his brows at us. I blushed and hid my face in Zach’s chest. I was never this shy about marks with Monty. Maybe that was because no one made comments like that when he did it. Because it was expected. And they knew he would rip their tongues out. I expected Monty to comment. He surprised me when he only quirked a brow. I was less surprised when he pulled me aside before history.

“Don’t let your parents see those. You seem quite attached to him. Wouldn’t want your dad to actually kill him. Maybe you should leave your hair down for a while. Wouldn’t want anyone getting any ideas, would you?”

I was stunned at the unnecessary hostility in his tone. Why the fuck does he care? He didn’t say anything else. I turned as he walked away, leaving me alone in the hall. I still put my hair down though.

Zach and I continued to explore the more physical aspect of our relationship in the coming weeks. Nothing too serious, just some semi-clothed touching. Maybe the rare under clothes touches. Only enough to tease. Never enough to lead anywhere. I was both grateful and frustrated by it. He didn’t leave anymore marks on me either. He could tell I was uncomfortable with his friend’s comments and wanted to avoid it as much as possible. We had agreed to wait until we were both ready. Neither of us were virgins. But it was still new. It did leave me with plenty of time to wonder what it would be like though.

When I wasn’t thinking about all the dirty things Zach and I could get up to, or Zach in general, or Monty, I occupied my time with college applications. My top choice had been UNC Chapel Hill for many years. Even before I knew what I wanted to study. I worked hard in school because of it. There were other schools I would like to go to, but none compared to UNC in my mind. I remembered when Monty and I had talked about what we wanted to do after high school, and he looked amazed but slightly skeptical at my goal. I knew he didn’t mean anything bad by it. We both knew how big of a goal I was. Zach had a different look on his face. He looked at me with complete faith that it would happen. It wasn’t even a question to him. He didn’t verbalize the thought, but I could see it in his eyes. I just hoped he was right.

Admissions emails were due to go out any day now. I both couldn’t wait and absolutely dreaded it. I had applied to seven schools. Statistically speaking, I had to get into at least one of them. I just wasn’t sure which one. Zach tried his best to reassure me that everything would work out. Our friends agreed with him. Monty also tried to reassure me. And keep my mind off of it with his incessant flirting. It was nice. I had a constant I could focus on. Monty flirting with me, as strange as it sounded, was keeping me calm. Zach tried his best to keep my mind occupied. We talked about anything but schools unless we needed to. It was sweet. I just wasn’t sure it was helping much.

The pring of an email notification on my phone pulled my attention away from the textbook I was reading. I quickly grabbed my laptop and logged on. Pulling up Gmail, I held my breath. It could be any email. An email titled University of North Carolina Chapel Hill Office of Registrar Admissions Decision sat at the top of my inbox in bold letters. This is it. Holy crap. I was shaking so hard I opened the wrong email first.

Back on my inbox page, I took a very deep breath and opened the email. Dear Miss Reagan Taylor, thank you for your application to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. We regret to inform you that you have not been accepted for admission at this time. I couldn’t read any further. There was more information, I just couldn’t bring myself to read any of it. My eyes had begun to fill with tears. I didn’t get in. I worked so hard. And I still didn’t get in. Numbly, I moved the computer off my lap and grabbed my phone. Unconsciously, I selected a contact and put it to my ear as I felt myself beginning to dissociate.

“Hello?”

“Hi. A-are you busy right now?”

“I don’t have to be. What’s wrong?”

“C-can you come here? Please?”

“I’ll be right there.”

I numbly walked out of my room and went to unlock the front door. In my room, I sat in the center of my bed and hugged my knees. Willing the tears to remain at bay, I screwed my eyes shut. That didn’t do much to help, because all I saw was a string of the words not been accepted running over and over again.

A knock on my bedroom door caused me to look up. I wasn’t aware of how much time had passed. He was standing in my doorway with his hands tucked in his pockets. “I didn’t get in.” I said softly. My voice cracked. His long stride had him at my bedside and sitting down within only a few steps. He pulled me close to him and I cried into his shoulder. He laid us back and he held me as I cried. I felt so vulnerable as we laid there silently.

It must have been at least an hour before we moved. It had started getting dark outside. “Thank you, Monty.”

“You needed me.”

“I know. I just,” I paused, “thank you.”

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” I walked him to the door and went to take a shower. When I got out, I saw that Zach had texted me. I love you and I hope you’re having a good day. I sighed to myself. I couldn’t bring myself to find the energy to text him back. Instead, I crawled into bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

The next day, I threw on a pair of sweatpants and one of Zach’s t-shirts. I was too upset about the email to really care about looking nice. I met Zach at his car in the parking lot. He had a cup of hot chocolate for me and had his adorable happy grin plastered across his face. “Morning beautiful.” I took the to go cup gratefully.

“Morning.” He put his arm around me as we walked, and I leaned against his large frame.

“How was your night?”

“It was okay. Yours?”

“It was alright. Anything exciting happen?” Exciting is not the word I would use.

“Uh, no. Not really.” We had reached my locker. I opened it and dug around for my stuff.

“Hey, Reagan.” Luke called from across the hall. I lifted my arm and waved at him without turning around.

“What’s up Luke?” I asked when he was at my locker. Some of the football team was with him, including Monty.

“You know, it goes. I heard back from UNC yesterday. Did you?”

“Uh.” I cleared my throat and tried to will away more tears. I didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath Monty made. “I uh… Yeah. I didn’t get in.” I muttered. There was confused murmuring all around me. The only one who didn’t say anything was Monty. I didn’t have to look up to see that Zach was glaring daggers at him.

“How did they not accept you?” Charlie asked.

“I don’t know Char. It was a long shot anyway. Their acceptance rate is twenty three percent total. It’s even less for out of state applicants. Applicants who aren’t being given sports scholarships anyway. No offence Luke.”

“None taken. I’m sorry Reagan.”

“It’s okay. I applied to other schools.” I cleared my throat again. “I have to get to class.

“I’ll walk you.” Zach said. I nodded and took his hand in mine.

We stopped on the way when he pulled me aside into an empty classroom. “You didn’t mention that you heard back from UNC.”

“I know. I just… I needed some time to process. Can we talk about this later? I have a reading due at the beginning of class.”

“Sure. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Of course.” I kissed him on the cheek. I sat through my classes in an almost daze. Monty sent me a couple of texts that made me smile. Zach also sent a couple of goofy pictures to try and cheer me up. My smile didn’t quite meet my eyes as much. I attributed it to being upset about the admission decision.

I met Zach at the doors to the cafeteria and he hugged me. I smiled sadly into his chest. I picked at my lunch silently. I could feel Monty and Zach’s eyes on me. They were watching both me and each other. No one else picked up on the tension. “Did you want to come over after school Zach? My parents are at work.”

“That works. I’ll let my mom know we are studying after school.”

“Studying each other?” Justin smirked. I rolled my eyes. Zach threw a piece of cheese at him.

“Fuck off.”

“Why do you throw food at each other?”

“It’s fun.” They shrugged.

“Alright then. I have a free period so I’m going to finish a project. I’ll see you guys later.” I leaned over and kissed Zach.

A few minutes after I sat down and pulled up my assignment, someone sat next to me. “So. You didn’t tell Zach?”

“No Monty.” I didn’t look up from my computer.

“You didn’t tell him you called me either, did you?”

“No. But I’m sure it will come up tonight when we talk.”

“You’ll let me know if everything is okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I have class so I’ll text you hot stuff.”

“You better.” I smirked.

Zach and I met each other at my place. My parents were at work and I think both of us knew this was going to become a fight, so I wasn’t surprised when he agreed to come over at lunch without a thought.. We danced around each other in silence. Neither of us knew how to react to the tension between us. With Montgomery it was easy. He would be in a mood or I would be upset about something, we would yell at each other for a while, and then… then it was fixed. I had never fought with Zach before.

“Why didn’t you tell me about UNC?”

“I told you. I needed time to process. To think. That was my top choice Zach. My plans literally changed overnight. That takes time to think through.”

“But I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to help you with that stuff. To be there for you.”

“I know. But I need to take time to process before I can deal, okay?”

“Right. Time to process. That’s why Monty knew?”

“How do you know he knew?”

“His reaction this morning. Plus, I heard him talking to Scott and Luke about it in class.”

“Are you mad I didn’t tell you, or are you mad I told Monty?”

“Both.”

“I don’t know why I told him okay?”

“No Reagan. Not okay.”

“I didn’t do it intentionally Zach. I just… dialed. I wasn’t even looking at my phone.”

“Is that supposed to make this better? That your instinct was to call your ex-boyfriend and not me?”

“No. I’m saying that I wasn’t even thinking clearly. All I knew was that in an instant my entire future was fading before my eyes.”

“So, you called Monty.”

“Yes Zach. I called him. I called him and he came. He dropped everything and he came to me.”

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“What. Happened. Reagan?”

“Nothing. I just cried. And cried. And then he left. I was upset.”

“Why couldn’t you call me?”

“Oh my god, Zach. I wasn’t thinking. I can’t explain to you why I called him and not you. I just picked a contact without looking and it was his.”

“Do you still love him?” His question caught me off guard. Do I?

“No.” My voice sounded sure. My brain and heart didn’t believe me. Hopefully Zach would.

“You don’t. Why do you still flirt with him?”

“I don’t love him. As for the flirting, that’s just how we talk to each other. We’ve always done it.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“Noted.”

Zach scoffed. “You flirt with your ex in front of me.”

“I don’t mean anything by it.”

“That doesn’t matter. Do you not think it’s weird that you’re still super close to your ex?”

“Not really, no. He is my friend. You can be friends with an ex, you know.”

“Most people can’t, actually.”

“So what? You’re mad that I’m friends with Monty?”

“I’m not mad Reagan. It’s just a lot to deal with.”

“Why?”

“Do you know how it feels to learn stuff about you, because your ex is talking about it? Or because you two are joking about something?”

“No. I guess I never really thought about it like that. It’s not that weird to us. But it does make sense.” I sat down on my couch. My adrenaline was leveling out again and I felt like an asshole.

“It doesn’t feel good.” He sat down next to me.

“I’m sorry Zach. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“I know.”

“I’ll talk to Monty about it. Tell him we need to stop the flirting and stuff.” Zach took my hand gently.

“Okay.” I rested my head on his shoulder and he pulled me into his lap. I was shocked that a fight had been resolved that easily and cleanly.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Monty and I met at the docks to talk after Zach and I fought. “Hey.”

“Hey sweetheart.” I grimaced slightly.

“Zach and I talked.”

“Okay. How did it go?”

“He was pretty ticked off that you knew about UNC before he knew. And that you came over instead of him.”

“But I’m your friend.”

“And he is my boyfriend. Also, for the record, you aren’t just my friend Monty. You’re my ex.”

“So?”

“So, you aren’t just my friend.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because. The way you talk to me, it’s like we never broke up. You’re the one who said you wanted to break up. That you weren’t ready for a serious relationship. Or any relationship for that matter.”

“Is it you, or Zach that has a problem with it?” My silence spoke volumes. “I see. Well, you go tell your boyfriend that we talked.”

“Monty. I do feel bad about it. It’s not fair to Zach to have to deal with you flirting with me and making moves all the time.”

“You know, if I believed that you felt bad, or that you were honestly asking me to stop, I would. But I know you. I know this isn’t coming from you.”

“Montgomery. You need to stop. I’m asking you to stop.”

“Fine. I’ll cool it.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask. Still friends?”

“Of course, Rea.” He hugged me tightly. I felt like I would let tight hugs slide because I liked them. We walked to our cars together quietly. I didn’t want to have to go or have things change, but I knew that if I wanted to stay with Zach, they would have to.

Monty was true to his word for all of three days. We were still friendly. The flirting had stopped though. There was still a buzz in the air when we interacted. It was easier to ignore now. At least, I thought it had stopped. I was painting my finger and toenails in the bathroom on Saturday night. It was my weekly self-care night. My phone rang before I could decide on a face mask to do while my nails dried. I smiled but rolled my eyes a bit when I saw who was calling. “Hi Monty.” I tried to sound annoyed but couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice.

“Hey Reagan.” He slurred slightly. I could hear the sound of boys falling and goofing off in the background. Bryce is having a thing, I guess.

“What’s up Buddy?”

“Jus’ guys night.”

“You don’t say.”

“You sound relaxed.”

“And you sound mighty drunk. It’s Saturday.”

“Right. Right. Girly night.” He chuckled.

“Yes. Is there a reason you called?”

“Wanted to say hi.”

“Oh.” I thought we had talked about this.

“I miss you.” He slurred. Oh boy.

“Uh. Miss you too.” I grimaced. He was drunk so I wasn’t going to just pretend I hadn’t heard him. Montgomery wouldn’t remember this in the morning.

“I’m an idiot.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“I am. I let you go.”

“Monty….”

“I love you.” My eyes widened. No. I felt the corners of my eyes begin to fill with tears. Looking up, I blinked them away. I didn’t know what to say.

“I-.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Monty.” I whispered. Why is this happening? We talked about this. At least he won’t remember this tomorrow. But I can’t just act like it didn’t happen.

“Buddy, get off the phone and come play.” Garrison called in the background.

“Gotta go.” Monty said before hanging up. What the actual fuck just happened?

I didn’t text Monty or Zach all day Sunday. I didn’t actually talk to or text anyone aside from my parents. I woke up on Monday dreading school. I just laid in bed and stared at my ceiling. I would see Zach and have to act like that phone call didn’t happen. And that Montgomery hadn’t said what he said. I would also see him. I don’t know if I can do that. He’s your friend. He was wasted when he called you. He won’t remember it. Taking a deep breath, I threw off the covers and got up. I stopped for a coffee on my way to school to try to calm my nerves, even though I was more of a tea person.

I walked into the school and as luck would have it, the first person I saw, was Montgomery freaking De la Cruz. Thank you, Universe. Instantly, I turned on my heel and walked out of the building before he could see me. Books weren’t important now. I had to avoid him. I power walked to the nearest exit and stopped by a large tree. Leaning against it, I took a deep breath and contemplated ditching school. That wasn’t going to be possible. Because the universe decided to say fuck Reagan today. Zach was walking towards me from the parking lot. He waved. I pretended I hadn’t seen it and ignored him. He stopped when he got to my tree. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Hey. Yeah. I’m okay.”

“You’re breathing kind of heavy. And leaning against a tree.”

“I’m fine Zach.”

“Okay.” He didn’t sound convinced. Before he could say anything more, I picked up my bag and brushed past him. I took the long way around to the back of the building to physics. I slumped in my seat and doodled through the whole class. I was doing well enough that the teacher wasn’t going to call on me.

I spent the next week avoiding Monty. I didn’t answer his texts. I took different routes to class. As far as I was concerned, he didn’t exist anymore. Except for the near constant string of text messages that I was getting from him. And his confession running over in my head any time I had a free moment to think. Why did he have to do that? I was getting on just fine. Zach and I were in a good place again. We agreed that we would just be friends. Fine. Fine. Fine.

I was also distant with Zach. I felt awful about it. You love him. He can say it to you sober. He loves you. If he saw me in the halls, he would come over and I would let him walk me to class. We would hold hands. My grip wasn’t as tight as usual. He would put his arm around me. I wouldn’t lean against him. I think he could tell something was off. Being Zach, he wouldn’t bring it up though. Since I was avoiding my two favourite jocks, I couldn’t exactly sit with Zach at lunch. I sat with Jess and Alex instead. Without Zach. They exchanged looks the first day but said nothing.

I went to the baseball game after school to support Zach. And to make it seem like nothing was wrong between him and I or Monty and I. I didn’t want people asking too many questions. Questions I didn’t want to answer. Monty’s drunken declaration had brought up feelings I had spent the better part of a year and a half, trying to bury. I was the one that wanted more from him. I was the one who needed more. When it was clear I wasn’t going to get more, I settled. And then when we broke up, I was comfortable in the fact that even though I loved him and I felt like he loved me, it would go unsaid and we could just be friends. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that was why we were so close and flirted with each other. While I wasn’t in love with him anymore, I still did love him. Even though I told Zach I wasn’t. Liar. You are still hopelessly in love with him. Maybe. But I can’t have him the way I want. And I love Zach. I just haven’t decided if I’m in love with him yet.

After the game, I waited to say bye to Zach and congratulate him on the win. “Congratulations 16. You won.” I smiled as he walked up to me. I was waiting at the bottom of the bleachers.

“Of course, we did. I had my biggest cheerleader in the stands.” He grinned. I couldn’t help but melt. Pushing away any and all thoughts of Montgomery’s phone call, I threw my arms around his neck and let him scoop me up into his arms as we kissed. My legs wrapped around his waist and his hands held my thighs.

“Get a room.” Bryce called out to us as he passed with some of the guys. The jocks cheered and whistled. I flipped them off and pulled away from the kiss.

“Two things. One, you don’t have girlfriends because you whistle at girls. We aren’t dogs. Two, fuck off.” I called back.

“I have a girlfriend.” Anders yelled.

“I know. She’s awesome. That’s two of twenty. Now shut up and leave us be assholes.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Zach let out a loud laugh when they walked away. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah. It kind of was. Sadly, I have to go work on a project. Walk me to my car?” I said as I jumped out down.

“Lead the way.”

I was working on my project when Monty called me. I sent it straight to voicemail. He called again. I let it ring out. He called back. This man just doesn’t quit. Again, I let it ring. He called a fourth time. Jesus. I answered it on the second to last ring. “What?”

“Woah. Who pissed in your tea today?”

“You called me four times in a row. What do you want Montgomery?”

“Well, I was calling to see why you have been ignoring me. But now I’m going to ask why you’re being such a bitch?”

“I’m busy. And you called me four times in a row.”

“Busy with what?”

“A project.”

“Okay. I’ll keep this quick then. Since a project is apparently more important than your best friend.” I didn’t respond. “Why have you been avoiding me, Reagan?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Bull. I haven’t seen or heard from you in almost a week. Are you mad at me or something?”

“No. I’ve been busy.”

“With Zach?”

“No. With stuff. I have a life outside of Zach Dempsey and you, you know.”

“Stuff. Okay. What stuff?”

“School stuff. Trying to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. Stuff.”

“Alright. I don’t believe you though. Did I do something wrong?” Yes. You did. Something very wrong. That you apparently can’t even remember. Meaning you didn’t have to just be drunk to say it. You had to be wasted.

“No. I’ve just been busy.” I sighed.

“We’re okay?”

“Yes Monty. We’re okay.”

“Okay good. Did you want to do lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Rosie’s at one?”

“I’ll be there.” I threw my phone on my bed when I hung up. This man is infuriating. Why can’t I say no to him?

To no one’s surprise, Monty didn’t stop flirting with me. He made comments about my outfits or little things that he knew about me. It had finally driven Kyla away. I feared that Zach would be the next person he drove away. I didn’t fall into his trap anymore and let him bait me into flirting with him again. He tried hard. But I didn’t want to go back on my word to Zach. I couldn’t control what Monty did. But I could control how I reacted. So, any time Monty flirted with me, I ignored it. I pushed down the little flutter in my stomach and blush that threatened to creep up my neck. Zach would roll his eyes and smirk if he was around to watch the spectacle that had become Monty and my interactions. We both figured he would grow tired of not getting a response and quit eventually. I have no idea why. Montgomery De la Cruz never was one to back down from a challenge.

As the school year started heading towards its close, the big senior trip was coming up. Every year, the school sent the senior class on a trip. It was supposed to be educational and technically was fair game on any exams except our government finals when we got back. But really, it was to let us blow off some steam and get us into a different environment, so we were less likely to do a Senior Skip Day or senior prank. The only teachers who tested on it were the hard asses. This year we would be going to DC to “learn about the government and how our nation’s democracy runs.”

The senior class was abuzz with excitement about our trip to DC. It was fully paid for by the school due to it being a mandatory trip, aside from the few thousand we needed to fundraise for. It wasn’t cheer camp so people were more willing to donate for a bake sale, over Dollar Valentines. Typically, everyone shared rooms at the hotel. This year however, there was an uneven number of girls in the class. Meaning that one lucky girl, would get a whole room to herself for the week. To make it a fair draw, every grade twelve girl’s name was put into a raffle. A random teacher from the neighbouring school then pulled a name from the bunch, to keep it impartial. An email would be sent out to every girl, letting her know if she was picked.

I held my phone tightly all day on draw day. It was a week out from the day we were leaving. We weren’t told when the email would go out. Only that we would know by tonight. I hope it’s me. At dinner, my phone pringed. I shot up like I had been bitten.

“Reagan. You know the rules. No phones at dinner.” My mom scolded.

“But Mom. It’s draw day for the single room. I need to go check. Please? Thirty seconds. Promise.”

“Okay. Go check.” She waved me off. I ran to the counter and grabbed my phone. Opening the email, I read it intently. Reagan Taylor- Single room. I screeched in excitement.

“I got the single room! I got the single!”

“That’s wonderful honey. Now come finish your broccoli.” I quickly texted Zach. I got it. :) He replied while I was finishing dinner. That’s great. :)

I texted Monty after dinner as well. I got the single room. He replied while I was getting ready for bed.

Excellent. What better place for you and Dempsey to screw each other silly? Can’t wait to hear all the details.

You are such a creep.

You like it.

The Friday before we left, Zach came over after school to help me pack. My parents were having date night, so it was just the two of us for the foreseeable future. Ever the gentleman, he helped me carry my suitcase up from the storage room. The rose gold hard case set was laid out on my floor. I put Zach in charge of folding my clothes, since he was the self-proclaimed “master packer”. He pouted slightly when I said he couldn’t fold my underwear. I managed to sneak in a few more sexy sets as well. We would be gone for a week. A lot can happen in six nights.

“Do you like this shirt?” I asked him.

“It’s nice.”

“I could wear it to the Capital.”

“Yeah. Or dinner.”

“There’s going to be dinner, hmmm?”

He walked towards me and took the shirt from my hands. “There might be. There also might be a lot more than dinner.” Zach wrapped his arms around me.

“Oh really?”

“Mhmm. If you want more than dinner.”

“I do have a single room.”

“That you do. Bring the shirt.”

“Okay.” I felt a blush creeping all the way up to my ears.

After some more packing, we took a break. A very nice break. We were laying on my bed. The suitcase was still open in the corner of my room. Zach shifted so he was resting his head in his hand on his elbow. I looked up at him and grinned. He grinned back. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He leaned down and kissed me softly. I kissed him back and wrapped my arms around his neck. Zach smiled into the kiss and moved to climb on top of me. He straddled my waist so that I was on my back again. The more he kissed me, the more I wanted this to go further.

My hands left his neck and went to pull on his shirt. I was trying to pull it off without breaking our kiss. When it was halfway up his torso, he pulled away from the kiss and pulled the cotton over his head. I smiled demurely at him. He began kissing me again and our tongues did their playful dance. I moaned softly when he kissed my neck. He didn’t suck hard enough to leave any marks. I sat up to take off my shirt when he pulled it up my stomach. He kissed me once again and I carded my fingers through his hair. My breathing started to get heavier as his Zach’s hands explored my body. My hips bucked lightly. He unzipped my jeans and I wiggled them off. They were pushed to the end of the bed along with our shirts. I struggled with his belt a little. I wasn’t used to it yet. It still felt foreign under my fingers. Finally, I had removed it. I unzipped his jeans and Zach kicked them off. He moved his kisses down my chest, brushing over the top of my bra. I sighed. My hands moved to his to the front of his torso and I ran my fingers up and down his chest. The skin was smooth, but I felt goosebumps form where I touched. We were still in our underwear. This feel so… nice. Nice is good. So why does it feel like I have no clue what I’m doing?

We made out passionately. Our exploration of each other’s bodies continued. There was light teasing and nipping at spots. It felt good. Zach unhooked my bra and I pulled it off. It landed at the end of the bed with our other clothes. I gasped when he grew bolder and sucked a pebbling nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked it a few times and I moaned his name. He used his other hand to roll and tease my other nipple. My hips couldn’t be stopped from bucking. I wanted more. I reached for his boxers. I was only able to brush his V-line. He pulled away from me.

“Did you want something?” He asked cheekily.

“Mhmm.” I moaned and reached for him again. My eyes were trained on the bulge in his boxers. They widened as he pulled them off and his cock sprang out. Reaching out, I grasped it in my hand. It felt hot and heavy. He moaned softly when I began stroking.

To make things easier and more comfortable, he rolled over so he was on his back. I sat up some and watched his face. Zach’s eyes were closed, and his brow was furrowed. He looked relaxed. I leaned down and kissed him. His fingers tangled into my hair as he deepened the kiss. My strokes became more confident and picked up speed. The quiet moans and grunts he was emitting were very encouraging. Soon enough, his hips were bucking. He sat up to stop me. I looked at him with dark eyes. He smiled at me and sat up, pushing me down on the soft mattress. Zach was gazing at me with the most kind and loving expression I had ever seen. My heart swelled.

I couldn’t wait any longer and reached to pull down my underwear. Zach pulled them down my legs and threw them towards the end of my bed. I got comfortable as he reached out for me. His fingers quickly found my core, and then my clit. My breath hitched when he rubbed it. He was gentle. I silently thanked him for that. Gathering some lubrication, he spent a little while trying different gestures and patterns as he ran his fingers through my core. There was some back-and-forth movement, as well as some up and down. It felt good but it wasn’t quite it. He tried circles and I moaned his name loudly. “That’s it. Do that. Do more of that.” My hips twisted. He leaned down to kiss me again while he rubbed me. Zach continued to rub my clit softly in circular motions. I moaned lowly as a finger entered me. It was slow and calculated. He continued to stimulate me for a few minutes, varying the speed and intensity of both his rubbing and thrusting. My hips wiggled in an attempt to get more stimulation.

Deciding I was aroused enough, he pulled away and looked at me questioningly. “There is a new box of condoms in my sock drawer.” He nodded and stood to grab one. Once the condom was properly and securely in place, he climbed back on top of me. I felt dwarfed by his large frame. He rubbed my clit and fingered me a few more times, before I felt his cock brush against my folds. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for him to enter me. I was expecting something quick. Like ripping off the band aid. Instead, he slowly pushed his way into my body. I groaned and my head rolled to the side. His breath hitched when he bottomed out.

“Shit.” He cursed in my ear.

After a few beats, he began to slowly thrust. I tried to match his slow, sweet pace. It just felt so different. Nice. Good. But still different. Zach started kissing up and down my neck again. I smiled and eventually, was able to match his thrusts. They began speeding up slightly and he intertwined his fingers with mine. I squeezed his hands. I closed my eyes when he kissed me. It almost felt like there was something missing. While I was trying to focus on the sensations coursing through my body, I realized that we weren’t just having sex. We were making love. I froze slightly but covered it by tensing up a little. I could feel my orgasm approaching anyway. I could tell it would be different than normal. I was both excited and a little scared.

As though Zach could sense my thoughts, he kissed me deeply and murmured against my lips, “let go.” His thrusts picked up speed and my hips stilled. I felt the knot in my stomach start to tighten and I clutched his shoulders. I moaned loudly as I felt the knot snap. My orgasm was different than it had been in the past. It was good, but it was less intense. There was no convulsing or extreme contortion. He continued to thrust, pulling me through my orgasm. My muscles relaxed and I slumped for a second. I could tell Zach’s high was in his reach. I began whispering dirty nothings in his ear and telling him that I loved him to try to get him to finish. I kissed his neck and nibbled softly. His thrusting became sloppy and he groaned loudly as he peaked.

With a laboured grunt, Zach rolled off of me and pulled me close to him. I closed my eyes for a second. Then I remembered I had to go to the bathroom. I rolled over and sat up slowly. When I returned to bed, Zach had discarded the condom and put on his boxers. I pulled his shirt on, along with a clean pair of underwear. Curling up in his arms, I rested my eyes for a while. “I love you.” I whispered as I drifted off.

“I love you too.” We woke up an hour later and finished packing, sneaking coy glances at each other.

Tuesday morning started unfairly early. We had to be at the airport by eight for our flight at ten. My alarm went off at five thirty. I protested as I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Slowly, I made my way to the bathroom to shower. I didn’t need to look super cute, but I at least wanted to smell good. It was a five-hour flight. I double checked that I had everything packed while my hair towel dried. My dad knocked on my door and I grunted at him. The shower had done little to wake me up. “Morning Kiddo. I’m just going to take your suitcase downstairs.”

“K.” I muttered.

Downstairs after I got dressed, I poured myself a very large cup of coffee. I didn’t really like sleeping on planes. Plus, I could get a tea after we got through security. My mom had offered to drive Zach and I to the airport, so I called him to make sure he was up. “Good morning Baby.”

“Good morning babe.” He sighed on the other end of the line.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Jut tired.”

“Me too. Mom just wanted to make sure you were up.”

“I am. Stuff is by the door and everything.”

“Oh good. See you in half an hour?”

“Okay. See you then. I love you.”

“I love you too.” I hung up and texted Monty to make sure he was up. Get up loser, we’re going to DC.

I’m up. And it’s too early for bending Mean Girls quotes.

It’s never too early. He replied with an eye roll emoji. I shook my head and didn’t answer.

“Reagan, are you ready to go?” My mom asked.

“Yeah.” I grabbed my backpack and rolled my suitcase out to the car. Dad lifted it into the back and checked that mom and I were securely buckled. Have to make sure my girls are safe. He had said when I asked him about doing that when I was younger. I still didn’t let him see the way I smiled about it.

Zach was waiting on his front steps for us. It was still early and May was still asleep. He waved and mom opened the back hatch for him. I looked in the rear view mirror and smirked at the way his muscles bulged when he lifted his suitcase into the car. He kissed me when he got in and greeted my mom. “Thanks for the ride Mrs. Taylor.”

“Of course, Zach.” She smiled at him from the driver’s seat. Once we got onto the highway, traffic was fairly light. It was still pretty early so we beat most of the commuters. It grew heavier as we got closer to the airport. None of us were surprised. Especially given that an entire high school senior class was descending upon it.

Mom parked in the drop off zone for the airline. Zach got out and walked around the car to open my door. He hugged me tightly as I stepped out. I breathed in the fresh scent of his cologne. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I looked up at him and grinned. Throwing on my backpack, I grabbed Zach’s while he got our suitcases. Inside, we met up with our friends. Clay was basically dragging Justin through the airport. Alex and Charlie both looked very awake for seven forty-five in the morning. Must be nice. I nodded at Monty and Scott from across the room. They were talking to Bryce and Luke.

Getting our tickets and going through security went shockingly well. Since we had so much time to kill, the teachers let us roam the gate freely. We had to swear left and right we would be on the plane. I abandoned Zach with Justin and Alex to go in search of a piping hot cup of tea. “Reagan.” Monty said as he approached me.

“Morning Monty. It’s tea time.”

“I need coffee. I’ll go with you.” We walked through the gate silently. I could feel his eyes on me. He was trying way too hard to seem like he wasn’t

staring at me.

“Can I help you?”

“There’s something different about you.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“You seem… less tense.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He stopped for a minute. “Wait. Did you two finally?” I blushed. “You did. Was it good?”

“Yeah.” I replied. It wasn’t a lie. It was good.

“Yeah? Better than us?” I turned to him, perplexed.

“Is that trick question? How do you want me to answer that?”

“Is that a no?” He smirked.

“No. It’s not an answer. Because it’s none of your business.”

“Alright, don’t tell me.”

Tea and coffee in hand, we walked back to the gate to sit until our plane boarded. The minutes ticked by. Zach was watching YouTube videos on his phone. I peeked over my book at him. He looked up and smiled. I felt eyes on us and turned to Monty. He was smirking at Zach. I rolled my eyes, mouthed piss off to him, and went back to my book. The flight to DC was pretty boring. I was able to sit with Zach and we watched a movie for the first half of it. Afterwards, I listened to some music and read while he slept.

We spent the first night in DC relaxing after a long flight. I enjoyed having a single room. It was quiet and I didn’t have to argue with anyone about what bed I would get. Jess came to do a face mask and have some girl time. It was nice. “So, tell me. What’s new with you and Zach.”

“There’s not much to tell.” I fibbed. She saw right through me.

“Oh, come on Reagan. There is totally something to spill.”

“We finally had sex.”

“No way!”

“Yeah.”

“How was it?” I hesitated. “Girl talk.” She smiled at me and I knew none of what I said would get back to Zach.

“It was nice.”

“And?”

“Good.”

“Nice and good?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the best you can come up with?”

“I don’t know Jessica. It was nice.”

“But it’s supposed to be more than nice.”

“I know. And it wasn’t bad. It was just….”

“No. Don’t even think that. We cleansed. Remember?”

“Okay Ryan Shaver.” I laughed.

“Still.”

“I know. It was just different is all.”

“I get that.” She sighed wistfully. I tried to scrub the mental image of Jessica and Justin going at it like jack rabbits. Ew. No no. Bad.

We toured the Smithsonian on Wednesday and went to the Capital on Thursday to see Congress. I stuck close to Zach the whole time. Monty continued his flirting. It was as though he really had no idea what he had said to me last month on the phone. I did my best to ignore it. But it was starting to get on my nerves. I could tell Zach was growing frustrated as well. While it got on my nerves, I was having a harder and harder time ignoring the butterflies in my stomach when Montgomery tried to charm his way to me. He could tell. I just hoped Zach couldn’t. Our interactions had been tense since last month.

Tensions between me and Monty come to a head in DC. It was Friday night, three days into our weeklong trip. I was coming back from an evening coffee run with Zach and Justin. Monty was milling about with Bryce and Luke outside. I tried to ignore the pang in my chest when I saw them. Monty caught my eye and subtly nodded at me. No one in either of our groups noticed. I pulled out my phone and texted him. My room. 10 mins. He waited until we were inside the hotel to read my message. There was no response. I assumed he got the message and made to excuse myself to my room. “That was really great guys. I’m actually pretty tired and I still have to fill in my trip journal for the day. I think I’m going to head up to my room.”

“Okay, night Reagan.” Justin nodded. He seemed slightly suspicious. I chalked it up to him having his own experience with bullshit excuses.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Zach asked.

“No, don’t worry. You hang out with Justin. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Alright. Text me when you get upstairs. I love you.”

“I love you too.” I kissed him softly.

Upstairs, I threw my backpack on the unoccupied bed and threw my hair up. Since I would be getting ready for bed soon anyway, I brushed my teeth and changed into my pyjamas while I waited for Montgomery. I was putting my toiletries back in my suitcase when he knocked on my door sharply. He was standing on the other side of the door, his hands once again buried in his pockets when I opened it. “You rang.”

“Hi.” I moved out of the doorway and let him in.

“What did you want to talk about Reagan?”

“No one saw you come up here, did they?”

“No. they didn’t. Is that what you’re worried about? Someone knowing that I’m in your room?”

“Of course not. Its just….”

“Zach. You can say his name. I’m a big boy.”

“I told Zach that he didn’t have to worry about you and I.” Monty scoffed, bitterly.

“Yeah. Nothing to worry about with us. Sure.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“If I was in his place, I would worry too.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean Montgomery?”

“Last month, you told me that we aren’t just friends. And you weren’t wrong. Because people who are just friends don’t look for each other in crowds. Or stop when other people are talking about them. The thing you forgot to mention is how unfair you were being to both of us.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen it. And if I’ve seen it, so has Zach. He isn’t that oblivious.”

“Zach has a problem with our friendship.”

“Oh, so now you admit it. Least I got that out of you. Only took a month.”

“It makes him uncomfortable that we are so close. And I feel bad about it. I told you that already.”

“If you expect me to believe you care so much about how our friendship affects your boyfriend, then why did you call me about UNC as soon as you found out and not him? Why did you lie and cancel plans with him to spend time with me? Why is it that until a month ago, you flirted with just as much intensity as I did? Why did-.” I opened my mouth to stop him. “No. You don’t get to talk right now Reagan. It’s my turn to talk.” I closed my mouth and looked down. I was stunned and a little bit scared. He had never yelled at me like that before. “Why did you ask me to come get you when you got too drunk at a party on a college visit and not him? Even after you told me things had to change? Because I would love to hear you explain that.”

I was silent. I knew I couldn’t deny any of what he had said. We weren’t just friends. We didn’t know how to be friends. Or we never wanted to be. “Well?”

“I… you weren’t being fair to me either Monty. I’m not the only one at fault here. I wouldn’t have had to cancel on Zach if you hadn’t shown up to my house unannounced needing first aid. Again. You’re the one who started it with the flirting. As soon as you saw that I was moving on and could be happy with someone else, you fucking start flirting with me and talking to me like you had never stopped. Like you hadn’t broken my heart that day. And maybe I let it go on too long. Maybe I shouldn’t have reciprocated the flirting. But it made me feel good. And it was fun. Until it started having an impact on my actual relationship. With someone who is able to admit that he loves me. You want to stand here and talk to me about looking for someone in a crowd or stopping when people talk about them? What about when you drunk dialed me telling me that you love me? What about how anytime we are alone together you waste time leaving just so you don’t have to go? I’m not the only one at fault here. I asked you to stop flirting with me and you didn’t.”

“Is that phone call what did it?”

“I’m with someone who doesn’t have to be drunk to tell me that he loves me. And no. The call didn’t do anything. But it’s nice to know you remember it.”

“You want me to say it? I’m completely sober. You really want to hear me say it?”

“Yes.” I said loudly, exasperated.

“Easy. I love you.”

We were silent for a minute, finally aware of the tension in the air. I made the first move and kissed him. It was chaste at first. I was giving him a chance to take it back. When he didn’t pull away or stop it, I deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, picked me up, and placed me on the bed. His hands trailed down my body and played with the hem of my shirt. He sat on the bed beside me and pulled me on top of him. I straddled his waist and sat in his lap, slipping my hands under his t-shirt. When I traced his abs, he sucked in a breath. Everything with him felt so natural. So easy. I slipped my hands out from his shirt and pulled away from our kiss. He looked puzzled until I pulled off my shirt. I nodded at him and he pulled off his flannel. Next to go was his t-shirt. His pupils were blown. He was staring at me, not with hunger like I had expected, but in awe and admiration.

I kissed him again, but I quickly pulled away. I kissed down his neck, searching for the pulse point. We fell backwards in a mess of limbs and kisses on the plush hotel bed. His hands were on my hips instantly to steady me. I had found his pulse point and sucked at it harshly. There was sure to be a mark within the hour. I could feel him pulling at the waistband of my pyjama pants. “Yes.” I whispered in his ear. Monty pulled my bottoms down and off quickly. My underwear was still on and he snapped the waistband cheekily. “Bastard.” I said against his neck.

“You love it.” He moaned loudly when I bit his neck in response. I had to cover his mouth.

“Shhh. People could hear.”

“Screw people.”

With that, he flipped us over, so he was on top now. My hands went for his belt and I deftly undid it. My muscles still remembered the movements. The sound of the clinking metal as the hook hit the buckle. The way I had to tug a little harder to get it to come out of the loops because it stuck on the back one. Soon enough, his belt and jeans were strewn across the room along with the rest of our clothes. It was his turn to kiss me. He dragged his teeth against my bottom lip, pulling it slightly. I moaned lowly. His kisses traveled down my neck quickly. He always did prefer to leave marks on my collarbones and breasts. My neck was still fair game to him and he often left at least one mark on it at any given time. Just like he had so many times before so long ago, he left a clear bite mark on my décolleté. His attention was turned to my breasts then. He deftly unhooked my bra and pulled it off. It joined the ever-growing pile of clothes flung across the room.

The marks he left on my breasts were small in comparison to the one I had left on his neck. He is probably trying to hide them. I too, moaned loudly when he nipped my skin. He covered my mouth like I had done to him only moments before. The difference was that I grabbed his wrist in my hands like I was trying to hold onto him for dear life. I heard him chuckle and felt the stupid smirk against my chest. “Shhh. People could hear.” He mocked.

“Screw people.” He uncovered my mouth and pulled away for a moment. I gazed at him wantonly. I realized what he wanted a second later when he tried to both push and pull me further up the bed. Taking the hint, I shimmied my way up, so we had more room. Falling off the bed would certainly raise suspicion about what was happening in here.

Montgomery continued his journey down my body to my underwear. He stopped to place a gentle kiss to each of my hips. “Think you can keep quiet Kitten?” I melted at the nickname. I hadn’t heard it in so long.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He pulled at the waistband of my underwear and they landed on the floor beside the bed. I sighed as he placed kisses to my pubic mound and my upper and inner thighs. Reaching down, I placed my hand on his hair. It felt so soft. Suddenly, he placed a kiss to my clit and my hips bucked. My fingers curled in his hair slightly. I moaned again, quietly this time, when he began to lap at my folds. My fingers curled in his hair more still. I couldn’t stop myself from tugging slightly. When he focused on sucking my clit I pulled on his hair. He moaned against my core and my body shook. When he added a finger or two to the mix, I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. I had been secretly imagining this moment for the better part of a year. This felt so much better than I could have ever imagined. My orgasm began to build quickly. My walls started to flutter. Monty chuckled. He was well versed in my body’s reactions to stimuli. We both knew what was coming. His fingers thrust faster, and he stopped sucking my clit. Instead, he rubbed my clit harshly. I had to cover my mouth to keep from moaning too loudly. And then everything was bright and light for a second. I felt a, thankfully given our location, small trickle of liquid spill its way out of me. Monty gently slowed, and then stopped his thrusting and rubbing. I was panting and trying to catch my breath.

“Just give me a second.”

“Of course. Take your time.”

I looked down at him as he climbed up the bed. He settled beside me and reached down to palm at his hard dick. Once I had caught my breath, I shoved his hands out of the way and took over the palming. “You are so evil.” He grumbled.

“You love it.” I slipped my hand under the band of his boxer briefs. I hadn’t even touched his dick and he was bucking his hips already. He gasped when I brushed his dick with my fingertips lightly. I grasped it in my hand and stoked it. My movements were stilted by his underwear. After I took them off and dropped them next to my own underwear, there was much more real estate to work with. My hand was back to stroking right away. I was mostly just trying to bide time getting my energy back.

A little longer and my energy was back up to useful levels. So, I straddled his waist again and leaned in to kiss him. I wasn’t as conscious of my nakedness as I normally was. Our kiss was heated but I managed to pull away somehow. The trailing kisses down his chest made his breathing heavy. When I reached his cock, I licked a stripe from base to tip. I felt him tug at my ponytail holder. “I will never understand how this works.” I chuckled and reached up to pull my hair down. It fell in a cascade around my face. I tucked some behind my ear and repeated the same lick. The groan and hand that was winding its way in my hair told me all I needed to know. I smiled to myself before taking his cock in my mouth. I sucked slowly at first. I needed to take a few minutes to get used to the feeling. He removed his hand from my hair then, letting me do my thing. He put it back when I started to take more and more into my mouth and throat. I sighed softly when I managed to take it all. That last half inch was always iffy. His hand was wrapped up in my hair and holding it away from my face. I was surprised that he remembered not to tug when I started bobbing my head. Or maybe that wouldn’t be something a guy would forget. His hand traveled down to the base of my hair and rested against my skull. He started to buck his hips and I gagged slightly. Focusing on breathing through my nose, I kept my pace up. I knew he was holding back. I moaned around his cock and he cursed under his breath. I didn’t quite catch it. I stopped sucking to take a big breath of air.

Before I could resume my actions, Monty tugged on my hair. I looked up at him. There’s the hunger. He tugged on my hair again. He was trying to pull me up towards him without hurting me or being too demanding about it. I crawled forward towards the headboard. Kissing him again was the easiest choice I made this trip. I got lost in the feeling of his lips on mine and his tongue fighting mine for dominance. He took advantage of my distraction and rolled us over again. He always did like to be on top. “Do you have a condom anywhere?” he asked between kisses.

“I slipped one in the nightstand beside the Bible.” I breathed.

“You would put it beside the Bible.” He sat up and reached into the drawer, pulling out the blue foil packet. Once the condom was in place and the foil was discarded, he kissed me again. He was still kissing me when he adjusted our positions so he could enter me. My neck had always been a favourite spot to kiss. I gasped when I felt his cock enter me. It felt amazing. My body knew what to do instinctively as soon as he began thrusting. My hips were quickly able to match his pace. I gripped his biceps tightly, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t dreaming.

As his pace quickened, mine stilled. I was watching him. His brow was furrowed, focusing on this moment. I was pretty sure both of us weren’t sure if it would ever happen again. I reached up and brushed some hair that had fallen into his face away. Montgomery hit a particularly sensitive spot and my hand fell to his shoulder, squeezing and digging my nails into the skin. I moaned loudly and he kissed me to muffle it. “Shhh.” He cooed against my mouth. I whimpered. I felt my orgasm building again. It was coming on fast. My hips started to move on their own accord again. His thrusts started to falter, and I mewled. We were both on a rollercoaster that was speeding up to a stomach dropping fall. I covered my mouth so no one could hear the scream trying to jump from my throat. My eyes screwed shut tightly and my eyes rolled back in my head. The white light was so bright. As soon as my orgasm began to hit, so did Monty’s.

He pulled out of me quickly and discarded the used condom. All but falling over me, he rolled onto his back. We were both breathless. I was gasping for air. He was panting heavily. I rolled over onto my side, for some reason shy to cuddle up against him. It seemed silly to be concerned about that after what we had just done. But it felt like crossing a line. “Come here.” Monty pulled me closer to him.

“Are you sure we should be doing this? It doesn’t cross a line?”

“Reagan. We just had arguably the best sex of our lives and I told you I love you. I think we are way past being concerned about crossing lines.” I sighed, realizing he was probably right. Might as well get comfortable. “You need to go pee first.” I sighed again and excused myself. Back in bed, I curled up beside him again.

“We had to go and make everything complicated.”

“When has anything about us not been complicated?”

“I guess you’re right. Will you stay?” He checked his watch and thought for a minute.

“I can stay for a while if you want me to.”

“Yes please.”

I woke up the next morning alone with the blankets tucked around me tightly. There was a note on the pillow next to me written in Montgomery’s messy scrawl. I’ll be waiting. Remember that. I love you. I set the note in my lap and rubbed my face. I should check my phone. See if I missed anything important. Zach had texted me to say good night the night before, while I was… otherwise engaged. There was a text from Justin asking if I needed to talk. And Scott. He wanted to know if I knew where Monty was last night. Oh god. I forgot they were sharing a room. Oh shit. I need to face Zach now. Deciding it would be best to get it over with as soon as possible, I dragged my butt out of bed. I tucked Monty’s note in my suitcase while I got dressed.

When I looked in the mirror and saw the marks on my chest and neck, I rolled my eyes. I packed a heavy-duty concealer for my under eyes. I wasn’t planning on using it to cover hickeys that my ex-boyfriend left on me. Blending and layering took longer than expected but it was early enough that I was still done at a reasonable time. I had to leave my hair down though. Throwing on a pair of sneakers, I made my way to Zach and Justin’s room. I paused for a second when I passed Montgomery’s room. I shook my head. You can’t. Not while Zach is still a factor in the equation. I knocked on Zach’s door and he opened it shirtless. My eyes trailed down his body. I couldn’t stop the memories of last night from flooding back. “Good morning beautiful.”

“Morning Zachy. Can I come in?”

“Yeah. I’m just about ready.” I nodded and went to sit on his bed. Thankfully I wasn’t walking funny. When he was ready, we went downstairs hand in hand.

Monty was talking to Scott in the hotel lobby. I was shocked to see him awake and dressed at this time. The man likes his sleep. And we didn’t exactly get much last night. “Morning Scott. Monty.” Zach stopped to talk as we passed. I couldn’t look Monty in the eye.

“Morning lovebirds.” Scott replied.

“Zach. Reagan.”

“Morning.”

“No tea yet?”

“No.”

“I see. Long night?” I could hear the smirk in Monty’s voice. I hate you.

“I stayed up watching tv.” Zach began making small talk with the boys but I didn’t contribute anymore. I just wanted to get out of there and be alone with my boyfriend. Part of me hoped I could forget that last night ever happened. That didn’t stop me from thinking about it though. The longer they talked, the more I thought about it.

“Babe let’s go. Brunch is waiting.” I urged him to stop talking to Monty and Scott. Please don’t invite them.

“It’s not even eleven Rea. I don’t think it counts as brunch yet.” Scott laughed.

“Okay, then breakfast is waiting. Either way, I’m hungry and food that is far too calories dense to be considered a proper morning meal is waiting.”

“Did you guys want to come with?” My eyes widened. Did he just…? He did not just invite them with us.

“Uh.” Monty cleared his throat. “Are you sure you want to invite me?”

“Yeah. I mean, you and Reagan are friends. I’m going to have to get used to it somehow.”

“Why don’t we ask Reagan?” Monty turned and looked at me, raising an inquisitive brow.

“Um. I- uh.” I looked down, blushing. “I was kind of hoping we could go… just the two of us?” I asked Zach, raising my voice a couple of octaves.

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought…,” he paused and took my hand again, “of course we can go just us. I was just trying to be nice and make an effort.” He was looking at me so kindly that I had to look away. “Sorry guys.”

“Nah, no worries. Gotta get time with your girl.” Scott waved it off. He shot Monty a look that I didn’t like. It made me feel uneasy. Does he know? Before I could think too much into it, Zach was leading me outside.

Brunch was delicious. Zach was his usual slightly oblivious but in a cute way self. If he had any idea something was wrong, he didn’t let on. On our way back, we stopped to sit and look at the White House from a distance. “Why did you invite Monty and Scott to have brunch with us?”

“Well, I didn’t realize you wanted to go just the two of us.”

“That’s not what I meant. You don’t like Monty. So why invite him to hang out?”

“He’s your friend. As much as I don’t like it and I don’t like how he talks to you, he’s important to you. So, I’m willing to try to be nice to him.” Oh. Well now I feel like even more of an asshole.

“That… That’s really nice of you Zachy. Thank you.”

“No problem. What do you say we head back and watch a movie in your room?” He kissed my temple and stood, holding his hand out to me.

“My room? Could we maybe go back to yours? Mine is kind of messy. I had some trouble finding something to wear this morning.”

“Okay. I don’t think Justin is holing himself up in there today.”

Scott caught us when we got back to the hotel. “Hey! Can I steal Reagan for a few minutes? I need to ask her something about an assignment in Spanish.”

“Sure. We were just going to watch a movie.”

“O-okay.” I waved to Zach and trailed behind Scott to his and Monty’s shared room. “I’m hopeless at Spanish and you know it. What is this about?” Please tell me he doesn’t know.

“Are you going to tell Zach about last night?” Fuck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s crap. Are you going to tell him, or not? Because he deserves to know.”

“How do you know about it?”

“Monty didn’t come in until like two or three this morning. I hadn’t seen him for hours before that. When I saw him this morning, and the calling card you left on his neck, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. The concealer on your neck just confirmed my suspicions. Just be thankful Zach is too oblivious to notice it.” I sighed, knowing he was right.

“I will. Just… not while we are still here. I don’t want to ruin anything. More than it already is anyway. Plus no one wants to deal with anyone getting arrested on a school trip.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all?” I turned to leave.

“Yeah. Actually, one more thing?” I stopped just short of the door. “Monty really does love you. And anyone with half a brain cell can see that you still love him. So, you deserve to be happy.”

“Thanks Scott.”

I spent the rest of the trip trying to avoid Montgomery and hold my tongue around Zach. I slept almost the whole flight back to California. School the next day dragged on. It continued to drag on for the next two weeks. Senioritis had set in hard now that we were done the D.C. trip. No one wanted to be there. We were graduating in a month. Most of us were going off to college. The last few weeks of school were basically pointless anyways. Even our teachers didn’t care as much. It was hard, but I managed to stay pretty cordial with Monty. I kept up appearances that everything was fine for most of the two weeks following the trip with Zach. On Friday I woke up and decided that it was time. I had to end things. I had to be fair to him. I had to take a chance and see if Monty and I could make things work this time. I texted Zach on my way to school. Meet me at the docks after school? The water is beautiful this time of year.

Sure.

I sat in my car for ten minutes after I arrived, trying to talk myself out of talking myself out of doing this. Zach wasn’t here yet so I got out of the car and walked around, trying to find a secluded bench where we could talk in private. I found the perfect one under a tree in the shade. It had an amazing view of the water. I snapped a selfie and sent it to him. Come and find me.

Zach snuck up and slid into the spot next to me. I jumped slightly. “Hey beautiful.”

“Hey.”

“I missed you today.”

“Yeah, I had some stuff to do. You know, last minute projects and final touches on assignments.”

“I know.” We sat quietly for a bit, just admiring the view. “You’re right. The water is beautiful this time of year.”

“Yeah.” I picked at my nails nervously. Just do it. “Listen, Zach….” I started.

“Yes?” He took my hand in his. I stared down at it.

“I- I think that…,” I paused. “I think that we need to break up.”

“What? Why?”

“I think it would be the best thing for us Zach.”

“Do you not love me anymore?”

“What? No, of course I do. It’s just… things are changing so fast.”

“Then why?”

“We are both going away to school next year and it will be too hard. I don’t want you to be tied down to someone on the other side or halfway across the country.”

“How do you know it will be too hard, Reagan?”

“Because. I’ve seen people try to make it work. We are eighteen Zach. We have our whole lives ahead of us. College is supposed to be the time where we experiment and make mistakes. To drink too many mixed drinks and wake up in someone else’s bed. I want you to experience that. And you can’t do that if you aren’t single.”

“We don’t leave for school for another two months at least though.”

“I don’t want us to wait until a week before we leave to decide that going into college single is the best choice.” Zach was silent for a while. I felt so bad. It needed to be done though.

“I guess you’re right.” I smiled sadly at him. “You’ll always be special to me, you know that?”

“I know. You’ll always be special to me too.” I squeezed his hand and he kissed me softly for the last time. Knowing he would need time to sit and process, I was the one who stood and left him on the bench.

In my car before driving away from the docks and Zach, I sent a text message. Four words. Eleven letters. I hoped he would know what it meant. I love you too. The weight of hitting send was unimaginable. I had spent so long denying it, that I didn’t know how to feel about it. I guess I would just have to wait and see what the future held.

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Falling // G.W. (celebration fic)

Request: George and *gasp* there is only one bed AU?? Pls? 🥺 - @acciotwinz

A/N: This is also inspired by the made up fic title that the ever so talented @theweasleysredhair sent in to me. This is a no Voldemort AU which also has the chance of becoming a two parter, who knows? I hope you like!!

Summary: A timeline of your love for George Weasley.

Warnings: teenage angst but overloaded with fluff

Word count: 4.1k

First Year:

Rushing through the corridors, late for Potions is not how you wanted to start your day, but it seemed like there was to be no luck for you this morning.

Having woken late, you had rushed getting dressed and forgot your bag as you raced from your bedroom, having to double back to get it. By that time, breakfast had almost finished so you threw back a piece of cold toast slathered with raspberry jam before necking a glass of orange juice and sprinting from the Great Hall.

Turning onto the corridor in which Snape’s classroom is located, you run straight into someone. The force of hitting them, you fall onto your bum and the person you ran into is pitched forwards, caught luckily by their friend.

They turn quickly; their eyes dropping to your figure on the floor, ready to start shouting. However, it seems their argument dies at the same time. Your eyes widen as you realise who you’ve run into: Fred and George Weasley. The latter rubbing their shoulder where your face had been only moments ago.

“Merlin,” You stutter, “I am so sorry, I was rushing, and I didn’t see you there.”

His twin, Fred you think, covers his mouth politely as he laughs. George elbows him as he smiles at you. “No harm, no foul,” George reassures.

You release a long sigh; unaware just how on edge you felt around the twins already making themselves a name larger than the Marauders who once roamed these very halls. You smile sheepishly at the redhead, already a few inches taller than you despite being the same age, and gesture to the now empty corridor, “I guess I better get going to class. I don’t want to be late – Snape will have my head if I am.”

George nods his head, “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you around then.”

You turn away from him; hoisting your bag further up your shoulder, “I’ll see you around, George.”

Second Year:

“(Y/N),” A humour filled voice calls out from behind you.

Turning, you come face to face with George Weasley. You startle slightly; not having spoken much to the twin since you had run into him through your first year. A conversation would be had every now and then, but it mainly consisted of group work with other students in attendance.

Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you greet the redhead. He smiles at you politely before gesturing to the empty seat next to you, “Do you mind if I sit here?”

You shake your head, “Of course not, but why aren’t you sitting next to Fred?”

George smiles at you gratefully as he sits down next to you, “They’ve split us into different Herbology classes.”

You grin at his answer, “Do I want to know why?”

He shakes his head; opening his notebook and reaching into his bag for his quill. “Probably not, but I’m not too bothered.”

“You aren’t?”

George shakes his head once more, shrugging his shoulders, “I get to sit next to you.”

You turn your eyes from him quickly; not expecting an answer like that. He laughs lightly as he notes down the date and aim for this lesson. “I think we’re going to be good friends, (Y/N).”

Third Year:

Your Third Year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry starts a little differently to your last two. For starters, you don’t sit with your usual friends. Instead, you wave to them from the platform at Kings Cross before joining Fred and George as they wait for you with their younger brother, Ron, in tow.

Your friendship with the twins developed quickly after that first Herbology lesson with George. He had carried on talking to you after the class; walking you to your next one without complaint and then meeting you later with Fred.

Warming to them both, you couldn’t help but feel closer to George. He had a knack for knowing exactly what you were thinking and feeling at any given moment; able to pull you from stressing too much over essays. He always seemed to be there too; for you to talk to, for you to unload your worries on to.

The friendship was something you already cherished; it bringing out a more playful side to you that you could no longer ignore in their presence. Whenever you could, you would lend an ear to their plans for pranks – offering your opinion over where best to throw a dungbomb in order to affect the most people.

Third Year did not start the same as your first and second year; this year you felt surer of yourself, felt happier with the person you were becoming. You had George to thank for that.

-------

“Ron!” You call out; grabbing the attention of the youngest Weasley boy. His ears turn red with unwanted attention, and you can’t help but take glee in it. “How are you?” You ask, “Are you settling in okay? And this must be Harry?”

If possible, Ron blushes harder. He nods before finding his voice, “I’m okay. I’m settling in fine; you sound like my mum (Y/N). Yes, this is Harry.”

You smile widely at the messy haired boy before turning your attention back to Ron. “Your mother is an angel, Ron, so I’m taking that as a compliment. Who else would send me a hand-knitted jumper for Christmas?”

Ron snorts, “What’s up, (Y/N)?”

“Have you seen your brother at all?” You ask; eyes scanning for George amongst the growing crowd of students making their way to their next class.

Ron raises an eyebrow, “Which one?”

You fix him with a flat stare; unimpressed with the sass coming from the eleven year old boy. “George. I’m looking for George,” You state for clarity’s sake.

Ron shakes his head, “We saw him at breakfast, but I haven’t seen him since. Have you, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head too. “Have you checked the library?” He offers in kindness.

You bite your lip; wondering about the ever so slight chance of the Weasley twin being in the library. You smile gratefully at the young Gryffindors, “Thank you, boys. I’ll see you later.”

You make to turn, but at the last minute, you swivel back to ruffle Ron’s hair into an undignified mess. He shouts in protest as you run off. As you leave, you hear Harry ask after your identity. Ron tells him who you are and what you mean to the family, but he rounds off with, “George would not stop talking about them over summer.”

Turning onto the corridor for the library, you file that piece of information away for later. For a time when you’re also ready to confront the ever growing feelings for the redhead.

Fourth Year:

Fourth Year begins much like the last. You meet Fred and George at Kings Cross; ruffling Ron’s hair and smiling warmly at Ginny – the last of the Weasley brood to start Hogwarts. She smiles back, but it’s watery and you reach out a hand for her to take in comfort – her goodbyes to her mother already said as you all board the train.

The train ride is loud, but you still find the time to catch up with George. He asks about your summer as if you didn’t spend half of it at the Burrow; you regale him of your time abroad with your family – travelling through the north of France on an extended history lesson.

You hate to admit it, but you bask in his attention, having missed him fiercely through your time abroad that no amount of letters helped. You missed hearing his laughter; it eliciting goosebumps on your skin with each chortle.

Watching the Scottish countryside pass you at an alarming rate, you wonder whether Fourth Year is going to feel similar to third. If your heart has any say in this, it would be the first to tell you that no – this year was not going to feel anything like the last.

--------

Despite the warmth of the fire, the common room is cold as you sit next to George. What started as a happy, carefree atmosphere was plunged into ice, becoming frozen and stilted with words about a missing sibling.

“They said her name… and I just, I stopped hearing anything else,” George whispers; voice close to breaking as he buries his face in his hands.

You open your mouth to offer words of comfort; to offer words of anything, but nothing comes out. How do you comfort something like this? How do offer words of help when you can’t compare the situation to anything you have ever experienced?

At the last minute, as George turns his head to face you, you bring his head to your shoulder, and this time you’re the one to provide wordless comfort.

You feel him shudder against you; overcome with the news of his missing sister. The news had come in a couple of hours ago; George, Fred and Ron escorted from the common room by Professor McGonagall, leaving you alone with Harry and Hermione who were both just as confused as you.

Upon their return, you rushed immediately to George’s side, noting his paleness and the slight tremble to his hands. You couldn’t count on both hands how many times you had asked him – pleaded with him – to tell you what had happened for him to react like this, but for a while, all he did was shake his head, unable to put into the words the news he had received.

It was Ron who worked up the courage. Taking a deep breath to slow his racing heart, he had announced, “Ginny has gone missing. She was seen going into the Forbidden Forest, but no-one ever saw her come out.”

At that point, Fred left the room. You made to go after him; to check on him, but George’s hand clamped down on your knee, keeping you next to him. Shooting him a puzzled glance, all he said was “Stay,” and that was enough for you.

It didn’t take long for you to find yourself alone with George. Fred having returned but going straight to bed; Ron and his friends following straight after though you all know that no sleep would be had amongst anyone. Not until Ginny was found safe and sound.

You remain on the couch; George’s head remaining on your shoulder as you run one hand through his hair and the other holds his hand tightly. The fire continues to burn; devouring the logs that breathe new life into its flames. Silently, you both watch – too tired emotionally to consider talking to the other.

It’s as you watch the fire turning the logs to ash that you discover the lengths you would go too to protect George from ever feeling like this again.

Fifth Year:

Fifth Year brings with it OWLs. It brings with it the stresses of academic excellence tied in with your growing feelings for the lanky redhead that you found yourself attached to.

The further into Fifth Year, the more you come to understand that your feelings for George Weasley are no longer platonic. In fact, you seem to be harbouring quite the crush on the redhead despite your adamant denials to Hermione, who swore blind that it wasn’t completely obvious and that you had nothing to worry about – George hadn’t noticed a thing.

However, you could no longer the way George made you feel. How simply looking at him had you losing breath; how a simple smile from him had your heart racing so fast that you felt absolutely certain it was to give out. There wasn’t a lot he had to do to have your stomach erupting into butterflies and your palms becoming sweaty; all he had to do was say hello and ask how you were feeling for your mouth to run dry.

You felt the fool more often than not; your worries and fears having you second guess each interaction with him, yet sometimes. Sometimes, you swore you would catch him watching you with the same yearning in his eyes that you know is reflected in yours.

It was moments such as that, that had your fears and worries dissipating, giving way to the more harmful emotion of hope. It blooms in your chest; spreading through your veins like a wildfire as you let yourself think that somewhere in the future, George may just feel the same as you.

------

A hand runs through your hair, and you smile in your sleep, turning your face to it.

“Love,” An all too familiar voice sounds, “It’s almost curfew.”

You grumble; snuggling further into your cushion, feeling confused when it starts to move. You crack one eye open; shooting up when you come to see that you’ve fallen asleep on George’s shoulder. You press your hand to your mouth in shock but also checking that you haven’t drooled on him through your nap. “George,” You ramble, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise I was that tired.”

George waves a hand in a dismissive fashion; ignoring your apology, “Love, I’ve known you a few years now. I’m sure falling asleep on each other was bound to happen at some point.”

That does nothing to comfort you. “Regardless,” You protest, “I doubt the last thing you wanted was for me snoring away on your shoulder.”

George smiles, “It’s fine, love. Besides, they were only small snores.”

“George!” You shout; batting a hand on his shoulder playfully, “I do not snore!”

George mimics zipping his mouth shut; keeping his answer a secret, leaving you in the dark as to whether you snore or not.

Rolling your eyes at the redhead, you ask, “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half.”

“Oh…” You trail off; glancing at the clock for the first time tonight, noting how close it was to curfew. You run a hand down your face, “I should probably head back to my common room.”

George clears his throat; running a hand through his hair as he suggests, “Or you could stay here?”

“What?”

“Stay here?” He suggests once more, “By the time you get back to your common room, you’ll no longer be tired and there’s always the chance you’ll get caught by Filch and it really isn’t worth a detention, is it?”

A playful smile spreads over your lips as you shake your head, “It’s not worth getting caught at all. But are you sure?”

George nods, standing and holding out a hand for you, “I’m sure. How different can it be from all the sleepovers over the summers we’ve known each other?”

You take his outstretched hand; keeping it tight within yours as he leads you to his room.

“How are you with sharing a bed with me? I’ll share with Fred or Lee if it makes you uncomfortable.”

A sleepy smile breaks over your face, and George realises then and there that he would do just about anything for you to look at him like that always.

“I just fell asleep on you on the couch. How different is sharing a bed?”

George nods wordlessly; squeezing your hand before letting it drop to rifle through his trunk. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for; an old worn out shirt and a pair of joggers for you to wear to bed.

You smile your thanks as you take it from George. You move to unbutton your blouse at which point George splutters a cough, turning his back on you. He feels the blush heat his cheeks as he hears you laugh quietly.

You pull his t-shirt over your torso; enjoying the softness against your skin and inhaling his familiar scent of gunpowder and honeysuckle. “You can turn around now, George.”

An awkward air settles over the room as George meets your eyes, but it doesn’t last long before your burst into laughter. You offer him the same privacy as he gets changed for bed; he clears his throat to let you know it’s safe turn around. Almost imperceptibly, the air changes between you two, becoming charged with an electricity neither of you were aware of before. It’s heady; it’s has your skin feeling flushed, making you more aware of the plans for tonight.

Reaching up on your tiptoes, you press a soft kiss to his cheek. Pulling back, you whisper, “Thank you for letting me stay the night, George.”

He averts his eyes; unable to meet your gaze for the rush of emotions running through his body from such a simple action. He nods wordlessly once more; smiling at you shyly as he pulls back the covers.

Space is limited in the single beds; it ends up that you lay half over George as his arms wrap around you, keeping you in place.

That night, the both of you come to realisation that sharing a bed means much more now.

Sixth Year:

“An ageing potion?” You demand; entering the hospital wing, feeling nothing short of anger aimed at the twins.

George’s eyes widen as he looks to Fred who wisely turns his attention elsewhere. He watches you take in the aftermath of being vaulted across the room by an age line; the grey hair and the long white beard. He can see the anger simmering through your entire body, but your eyes hold a different emotion – one George cannot put a finger on right not, but he would argue it’s something close to love.

At this point, he can no longer tell his feelings for you apart from what he feels daily. He’s utterly infatuated with you, as his mother likes to remind him each time he goes home. George has stopped disagreeing with her; happy to accept the fact that he fell in love with you a long time ago and has no plans in foreseeable future to ever stop.

You hold a hand over your mouth; repressing the sob that wants to escape. The very thought of him entering such a dangerous competition becoming too much for you. George’s face falls when he sees the tears in your eyes; he reaches out a hand for you, “Love…”

You fall into his embrace willingly; hiding your face in his shoulder as the tears fall down your face. Sniffling pitifully, you fist your hands into his robes, gripping onto him for dear life.

No words are dared uttered as George lets you collect yourself; his hand running through your hair and down your back in a motion that he knows soothes you.

“Why would you do such a foolish thing?” You ask; needing to know why they would put their lives at risk so willingly.

George has the decency to look somewhat ashamed as he utters his answer, “Eternal glory and the prize is a thousand galleons.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “If it had worked, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“But it didn’t, so it’s okay.”

“It isn’t, George! This tournament is so dangerous it poses a real threat to lives. If anything was to happen to you-” A sob breaks free from your lips; halting your sentence as your mind steadfastly refuses to even entertain the very thought of living a life without the Weasley twin.

George pulls you back into his embrace; arms wrapping around you tightly as he rocks you as best he can from where he sits on the hospital bed. His beard tickles your face as you hide it in his chest, clamping your lips shut against the wave of tears threatening to overflow.

One, two, three kisses are placed to the top of your head before George coaxes your face out from where its hidden. Tear filled eyes meet his brown ones to which George suddenly feels rotten about the whole ordeal. He hushes you quietly; offering any and all words of comfort so he no longer has to listen to the utterly heart wrenching noise of your sobs – made all the worse knowing that he was the one to cause them.

“Love, we meant nothing by it, you know that.”

“George, you don’t enter a competition that could quite literally kill for money.”

“What else are we to do if we want to open the shop?”

“We go to a bank and fill out a form for a loan.”

“We?”

You raise your eyebrow, determination lacing your tone and distracting you from your tears, “What? Did you think you were getting rid of me that easily? I won’t work in the shop, but I’ll help you open it in any way I can.”

He hooks an arm around your shoulder; pulling you in once again to drop more kisses to the top of your head, unable to help the emotions surging through him.

Over your shoulder, George makes eye contact with his twin brother. Fred had watched the entire exchange in both awe and with a tinge of jealousy; he couldn’t help but hope he would find something similar to what you and George have. That love that doesn’t need to be named, despite the both of you being somewhat aware of the other’s feelings.

Fred winks at his brother; offering him a thumbs up as he lays down on the bed and closes his eyes. Any attempt to give the near couple one form of privacy or another.

As Fred closes his eyes, George turns his attention back to you. The words don’t need to be said, but he whispers them to you regardless, “I would never leave you. Never.”

He feels you relax against him; the tension seeping from your body as the words land exactly where he meant them too. You fall into the embrace more; gripping onto him tighter and inhaling the smell that is so intoxicatingly him – honeysuckle and gunpowder, and just like that, your heart has calmed, and your mind no longer races with possibilities that may never happen.

Seventh Year:

NEWTs take over your life in Seventh Year; spending more and more time in the library much to the dismay of George. He kicks up a fuss each time you tell him your plans for the evening, yet each evening he doesn’t leave your side as he studies with you.

Truthfully, it’s hard to focus with him so close to you. It’s hard to do much of anything when you have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless each time he smiles at you or flicks a piece of parchment your way.

At this point in your friendship, it could be argued by many outsiders that you were in fact in a relationship. Having been asked many times by younger students, each denial felt like a stab to the gut which is only further reinforced each time you catch him staring at you.

Biting your lip, you return your focus to your studies. Ashamedly admitting to yourself that you had to berate yourself countless times throughout the day for daydreaming about the teenager you’re certain you’ve loved since you were fifteen years old and only just learning the meaning of the word.

Seventh Year was your final year at Hogwarts, and though you were more than certain that George would feature heavily in your life beyond it, you couldn’t help the raw hope that built in your chest and flooded your veins at the mere idea of loving him as more than a friend.

-----------

“You know, I promised myself I would do something at graduation,” George states; pulling you to one side as families begin to gather after the ceremony and students are congratulated further.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” You comment; an eyebrow raised.

George nods; a smile gracing his face, “Yeah, I promised myself I would tell you how I feel about you.”

“And just how do you feel about me, Weasley?”

If it’s at all possible, George’s smile grows larger, “I’m absolutely mad for you, love. So mad for you in fact, that I don’t imagine another future without you in it. So what do you say? Fancy living out the rest of your days with a man who has a thing for pranks and plans on owning a joke shop?”

“I can do you one better.”

“Well I have to hear this.”

You beam up at him; hand already circling his tie, “I fancy living out the rest of my days with my best friend by my side. Morning, noon, and night.”

Arms circling your waist, George laughs lightly, “I think I prefer the sound of that.”

Brushing your lips against his, you whisper, “I knew you would.”

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @birdie-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @acciotwinz @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @xfirstfemale-marauderx @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart

George Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

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plural-culture-is · 2 years

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When the question first arose about alterhumanity, when I was just studying this topic, I was lucky enough to stumble upon many blogs of various systems of different origins. At that time, my opinion was exactly: "No, I'm not a system." Now - I'm starting to think about it as much as I can every day.

Like. At some point, I made a second account for a "fictional personality" who automatically already had a first name, last name, history, where she lives, what interests she has, personal damn life, and so on. I don't even remember how well I wrote for her, but, for example, if I can recall my personal conversations with someone, then reading messages from her to others, I literally don't remember anything. She usually talked to my friends, solving problems when I disappear from the network, during particularly severe breakdowns, and helped in conflicts. And we only once caught a statement from an ex-friend that she was a fake, and then others ran into her, saying arguments against her statement lol. So... we are pretty different.

The second was my desire to create something in the form of a thoughtform that I could see, feel, hear, because I lacked something in my life. I forced myself to think that he was here, he was nearby, and I still do this if I want to "feel" him, and I don't control his appearance outside of my mind.

The third one appeared spontaneously, just appeared and gave away huge positive and such alien vibes for some word and since then it became their name? It's terribly confusing here.

The one who made everyone think I had a DID is more complicated I think. In the first year of my college, I was under the constant abuse of my former friend. At a particularly strange moment, when in the class I was overthinking again, I HEARD someone else's voice telling me something to comfort me. That time I got scared, and then silence lol

The moment we broke off relations with this "friend" I lost absolutely all memory of what happened. According to my partner, as well as by the saved remnants of messages and posts in my account - It was just an incredible outburst of wrath at everyone who was there then. And the partner still says that she did not recognize me that time at all.

And now random blurring with some characters' personalities has begun to appear I guess, though they might have present, and I just don’t remember. Like, If something can make me pick up some phrases or pieces of behavior from my favorite characters (like Echolalia), it happens quite often for a short time and I can control it. This blur changes absolutely everything in my Self - even the damn way of walking.

If i am a system, than i can't communicate others, and maybe can’t switch? because... we still live in a stressful environment, so...

And it's been two years since i started questioning, and there was more questions that answers lmao. Though i still relate much to plural experiences and especially to DID/OSDD systems. What a nightmare xp

so I’m assuming you’re asking us if we think you’re a system? Because yeah it sounds like it! So if you have periods where you don’t remember doing things and it was like others did it, then you might have switched at that point and you might have DID. And the blurring wouldn’t be switching, it would just be co-fronting. Yes, what you described as echolalia is experienced by singlets too, but that blur isn’t. It’s also possible the blurring is switching, just not the kind of switching that is most often talked about. Monoconscious systems experience “becoming” whoever is fronting instead of feeling like you’re leaving the front and letting someone else fully take control. And it sounds like that might be happening because you say the blur changes everything about your Self, but I’m assuming it still feels like you’re still there, you’re just someone else. And plurality is a spectrum, so you don’t have to have just one or the other way of switching, you could have both, or have something in between, or anything else. But from the sounds of it, you are plural, and you don’t have to figure out which way you’re plural, though you can if you want to of course. Also it’s valid to have no communication between headmates, but if that’s something you want, you could look through our #communication tag or ask other systems how they learnt to communicate.

#not plural culture #am i plural #communication #plurality #plural system #actuallyplural #abuse cw #anonymous #[mod klaus]

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

Text

Levi and Zeke: Their similarities and the Fundamental differences between Them:

I’ve recently been having a discussion with @ourmondobongo, and it’s spurred me to want to kind of analyze further the fundamental and philosophical differences between Levi and Zeke. I know I’ve gone into this thoroughly already, but my discussion with ourmondobongo has really made me want to delve in even deeper. First though, let me thank them for, as always, inspiring such insightful discussion among the fan base!

Some really interesting ideas were posted here, about Zeke’s experiences growing up in Liberio informing his world view and his views on the worth, or rather, lack thereof, in human life. ourmondobongo suggested that, because of Zeke’s experiences with his parents, utilizing him as a tool for the Resistance, and his subsequent utilization by the Marlyean army as a tool of war, it ended up warping his perception, and influencing him to believe that all human life is inherently worthless unless it can be molded into a tool or a weapon to further some goal. I agree with this interpretation of Zeke’s mindset and what shaped it. This is undoubtedly how Zeke views the world, and humanity as a whole, and he’s deemed, because of his own suffering, brought about by his experiences affirming this world view, that life is not worth living. Because he sees life as without value unless one can make themselves useful in some way, in his view, the suffering inherent in that makes life fundamentally pointless and meaningless and not worth the effort.

Now, where I diverge slightly from ourmondobongo’s view on this is in relation to Zeke’s influence upon Levi in the final arc, or rather, what they say about Zeke’s philosophy overriding or undercutting Levi’s own. They said that Levi’s belief in an intrinsic value in human life is bombarded and undermined during the final arc of SnK, Zeke’s own belief in the worthlessness of human life being affirmed to him again and again by the chaos and destruction around them, the rightness of his philosophy and belief that this sort of destruction can only stop with the eradication of the Eldian people being confirmed. But see, the thing is, I don’t think Zeke is at all showing Levi something new, or something which he hasn’t already known all his life.

Zeke claims that his experiences in life make him uniquely suited to understanding the conflict between Eldian’s and Marleyeans, and that his experiences make him uniquely capable of knowing how to solve that conflict. But Zeke is nothing if not a unfailingly self-centered egotist, someone driven purely by selfish, egotistical viewpoints, unable and unwilling to perceive anything outside of his limited world view. His life ISN’T unique, his experiences AREN’T unique. They’re, first of all, shared by every single Eldian on both Marley and in other countries around the world. Further, and more importantly to the point I’m about to make, they’re shared by Levi.

Zeke grew up being treated and regarded as a second-class citizen, relegated to a limited area, an internment zone, which he wasn’t allowed to leave unless given direct permission by the powers that be, and regarded as something less than human by the people of Marley. Well, these are all things Levi himself experienced growing up too, and, I would argue, to an even more extreme degree than Zeke.

Levi grew up in the Underground, a sprawling, subterranean city filled with the so called “dregs of society”. A place where the poor, the persecuted, the sick, the dying, the deviant and the criminal were either forced to flee to, or more unfortunate still, were born into. All this underneath the Capital of Paradis, Sina, the richest, most exclusive district inside the Walls. A place where the elite of society lived and worked and raised their families in wealth and luxury. The irony of the poorest, most poverty stricken area inside the Walls being directly beneath the richest, most affluent area inside the Walls can’t be overstated.

Perhaps most relevant to note in this comparison between Zeke’s experience growing up in an internment zone and Levi’s growing up in the Underground, is that the people of the Underground were not only considered second-class citizens, but relegated to something even below that, considered not citizens at all. They were literally denied citizenship within all areas above ground, within the Walls, and if they somehow managed to make it to the surface, and were found out, they would be promptly deported back to the Underground, where they would continue to be denied any and all rights given to the people up above. And, it can be easily argued, that the people of the Underground were treated in many ways significantly worse than the Eldian’s inside the interment zone in Liberio. The people of Liberio seemed relatively well provided for, able to find work, able to earn a living, able to have homes for their families and put food on the table, essentially allowed a sustainable and comfortable life, if one burdened by outside prejudice. They weren’t made to live in squalor. Largely, no doubt, because they were seen as an unwanted, but useful resource for the Marleyean government. The people of the Underground were provided no such provisions. They were viewed as simple refuse, society’s unwanted and unneeded surplus. Poverty and depravation ran rampant in the Underground, a lack of resources and support from above resulting in high crime rates and desperation, to things like murder, prostitution, violence and other sorts of criminality. Further, leading to things like rampant orphaning of children, likely due to starvation and disease claiming the lives of parents, etc... It was a place literally cut off from the sun, a world of perpetual darkness, sickness, poverty and dire straits. They received no aid or support from above, were not provided any of the benefits or privileges of the people on the surface, were not offered any sort of path to success, or betterment of their lives. They were just plainly rejected and left to the whims of fate. This alone makes it a more difficult and desperate place than the interment zones of Liberio, for even there the Eldian’s were given opportunities to improve their lives through the Warrior Unit programs.

You might try to point out that Zeke’s experience differs from Levi’s in how he was taught that he, and on his assumption, every other Eldian, would only ever be seen and treated as a tool to be used for some greater gain, and that Levi, at least, had the love of his mother, and Kenny to show him the ropes of how to survive in a place as ruthless as the Underground, and so Levi couldn’t possibly understand what it means, the way Zeke does, to be seen as a tool, or to be deemed worthless outside of ones utility. But I would counter this simply, by saying that Levi grew up, spent the first, several years of his life, in a brothel, where the very mother who loved him also worked as a whore. Through this experience alone, it can be easily assumed that Levi was exposed to repeated instances of his mother being EXACTLY used as a tool, as an object who’s sole purpose was to give men pleasure. From his birth, then, Levi was exposed and taught the brutal lesson that the sole most important person in his life, his mother, the one person we can assume was the only positive influence and relationship he had, for the first, several years of his life, was seen and treated by everyone else as nothing more than a tool for their basest and most perverse satisfaction. I can scarcely imagine a more horrific or cruel example of a young child being taught the same lesson Zeke seems to think is unique to him alone, that people’s lives are worthless outside of what use they can provide for someone or something else. Beyond that, Levi was again forced to face a situation in which he and his two, closest friends in Furlan and Isabel were used as tools by other people, recruited by Lobov to kill Erwin and retrieve from him an incriminating document, promised, if they succeeded, citizenship above and a handsome payday, only to find out later the entire scenario had been set up by Erwin himself to press Levi and his friends into military service, to be used as tools in the fight against the Titans. Both of these are prime examples of Levi being faced with the lesson that he and those he cared about were seen by people above ground as nothing more than tools, to be used at their disposal. So this was a concept Levi was already well acquainted with by the time Zeke showed up, a merciless lesson in the harshness, violence, brutality and suffering of life. Zeke didn’t experience anything Levi didn’t in turn, and in many ways, with greater extremity.

Anyone trying to claim, also, that Zeke had no positive influences in his life like Levi did would be wrong. Zeke had Mr. Ksavar, for one, and his grandparents, for another. Mr. Ksavar asked nothing of Zeke, merely showed care and concern for him, and a desire to spend time with him, playing catch. It was Zeke who offered to inherit the Beast Titan from Mr. Ksavar, not something forced on him. And while Zeke’s grandparents may have tried to enforce Marleyean history on him in regards to the Eldian’s, they did so out of love for him, in a misguided attempt to PROTECT him, because they cared, not because they were trying to use him in any way.

My point in talking about all of this is to draw a parallel between Zeke’s life, and Levi’s, and then to demonstrate how, despite deeply similar life experiences, the two of them diverge in vital and fundamental ways which, more than anything, can only be attributed to their strengths of character and natural inclinations as people.

Essentially, the gist of my argument is this. Zeke is a bad person. Levi is a good person. And there can be no excuses, or influencing factors found in either of their lives to credit for the way either of them turned out, other than themselves, other than their own natures.

Because Zeke let his life experiences twist him into a heartless, emotionless, unfeeling sociopath who murders other people without remorse, and regards other human lives as meaningless, worthless trash, expendable and disposable as a means to his own ends. He let his experiences in life serve as an EXCUSE for his natural cruelty. He chose to view the lives of others only through the prism of his own experiences, and cast a judgment upon the worth of those other lives. The true reveal of Zeke’s megalomaniacal egotism is in how he finds himself unable to separate the lives of others from his own. In how he’s unable to view the lives of others as anything other than an extension of his own existence. Because he deems his own life worthless, then so too must be the lives of everyone else.

Levi, then, is perfectly his opposite. It isn’t because of Levi’s life experiences that he’s turned out the way he is. It is IN SPITE of his life experiences that he has. Everything Levi’s ever experienced in his life, according to Zeke’s philosophy, should have turned him into a monster. He should have come out of the Underground a sociopathic, unfeeling, brutally uncaring and violent man, ready to take from and use others for nothing more than his own, personal gain, because that was the lesson his life had taught him. Because that was what he’d been shown over and over again. That life is cruel, and ruthless, and uncompromising in its unfairness, and that to live is to suffer. And yet, Levi came out of the Underground with a greater capacity for compassion, feeling, love and kindness than any other character in SnK. He continually and routinely, throughout the series, demonstrates an incredible empathy, consideration, sympathy, generosity and understanding for other people. He is immensely accepting and nonjudgmental, and always, always goes out of his way to express gratitude towards others for their own sacrifices and efforts. He does his absolute best to protect the lives of others, constantly putting his own at risk to help others live, constantly putting his own at risk to save whoever he can. Constantly and consistently, Levi places the lives of others above his own in terms of worth.

And here’s the thing that makes Levi most remarkable of all. The thing which demonstrates beyond any shadow of a doubt the immense strength of his character. Levi very well knows that life is cruel, that life is brutal, that life is unfair, and that often people die for no damned good reason at all, that they suffer for no reason at all. He very well knows that people are breathtakingly cruel and terrible to one another, that people treat one another in unspeakably horrific and unforgivable ways. He very well knows that the dream of a lasting and peaceful world, a lasting peace between humans, is nothing more than a pipe dream, an unrealistic, unattainable ideal. A fancy only a child should genuinely be able to believe in. And yet, once again, despite KNOWING this, despite every lesson and experience in his life impressing this awful reality upon him again and again and again, Levi still does everything within his limited power to ease the suffering of others, to improve their lives, to protect them and show them kindness, to help in any way he can, whichever way he’s able. Despite knowing the futility of life, the pointlessness of suffering, the injustice of other people’s cruelty, despite knowing these things INTIMATELY, Levi still has in him an open, generous, kind and caring heart. Levi still has in him a deep, unending well of compassion and an unwavering desire to protect and better the lives of all the people around him. It isn’t even Levi’s own dream that he fights for, it is the dreams of OTHERS that he fights for. He can’t ever fully embrace this notion of a peaceful existence, free of violence and deprivation and cruelty, because he knows too well the way of the world. He’s been too mired in the indifferent reality of nature and the human condition to ever, really believe it. But in spite of that, IN SPITE OF IT, he fights to protect that dream and belief that others carry, that others strive towards, that others commit themselves to. He gives everything he has, every piece of himself, to protect a dream that he himself can’t even fully believe in, and for no reason more than that it is something which gives others hope, something which gives other’s a sense of purpose, something which one day, possibly, however slim the chance, might come to pass.

It is all in spite of Levi’s experiences in life, all in spite of his weary and cynical understanding of the world and the people in it, that Levi commits himself to kindness, compassion and the chance to help others, in whatever ways he can, even as he knows deep down the ultimate futility in it, even as he knows his own, relative powerlessness in the face of nature’s unyielding and uncaring apathy.

And that really is the fundamental difference between Levi and Zeke. Two men who have experienced such similar lives, and who have learned early on their lives the cruelties of existing in this world, but one who reacts to those cruelties with defiance and courageous opposition, standing in the face of overwhelming odds, while the other yields to it and lets it excuse his cruelty in turn, bowing to its power and letting it consume him.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #zeke yeager #meta #thoughts

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mageofseven · 4 years

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Hi I just recently discovered your blog and I’m in love with your writing! I have a little request if you don’t mind. The brothers (and undateables I’d you want to) finding MC bruised and beaten and later discovering they got into a fight with another demon. Thank you in advance if you decide to write this!

Awww thank you so much! I might end up doing the Undateables in another post, but I'll just stick to the Brothers for this one.

And thanks for requesting 😊

TWs: violence, vague s*xual assault

Spoiler warning: 1st year spoilers in Lucifer's and vaguely in Belphie's section

Lucifer:

Was checking out the area under Diavolo's orders.

Apparently there have been some people sneaking around in the old Colosseum and normal methods to keep other demons away from the historical landmark have been futile.

That and word has made it's way that some criminals have been using the place to secretly make dealings

So when he got there, he had expected to find some such people lurking around

Instead he found MC on the ground in the center, bruised and bleeding with their arm bent in a very concerning way.

He rushed up to them, calling their name and checking them for signs of life.

Honestly, the man was having major flashbacks to the day he lost his sister.

This was exactly where Lilith fell and Lucifer had to watch his sister, all broken and in pain until Diavolo came and he had to make the deal that changed everything

The deal that eventually led to MC's existence

Yet here they were now, in exactly the same place and state and the demon couldn't help but break down for a minute with panic he tried so hard to conceal.

The human let out a groan and the man could only sigh in relief.

"MC, oh thank the Devil..."

"Luce...?"

"You'll be alright." He promised. "I'll take you over to have Simeon heal you."

Despite the internal panic and flashbacks of such a traumatic event, he still handled the situation well.

Once MC was all healed up, he asked them what happened.

Apparently, they found a note that someone had stuffed in their school bag, asking for them to meet at the Colosseum.

They thought it was weird, but curiosity had gotten the better of them so they went and were attacked while exploring the ancient building.

The demon had meant to kill her, but sensed Lucifer approaching so they dropped the human and ran for it.

Ends up getting as much info from them about the attacker as he can.

Even if MC doesn't want the demon to die for what they did, they get no say in the matter.

Because of their status as exchange student, this attack is a political issue and the consequences Lord Diavolo warned his people about originally must be put into play.

Politics aside though, Lucifer would never let any being who hurt MC get away with it.

Becomes a lot stricter with what they can and cannot do

Like, they're not even allowed to go for a walk around the block without either him or his brothers accompanying them.

Even changes up their class schedule to make sure they have at least one of his brothers with them per class and they even have to walk MC to their next one.

Any arguments about this from MC or the brothers fall on deaf ears.

He will never let anyone lay a hand on them again.

Mammon:

School day had ended and he was on his way to pick MC up from their class.

Since Lucifer decided the day they came that he was responsible for their safety, he always had to do stuff like this.

He was late today though since his teacher held him back after class.

Blah blah F on the test, blahh blah summer school, blaah blahh blaaaah. Whatever man; he wasn't listening

And because of them, he was late. So much so that when he arrived at the human's classroom, they weren't there.

Lowkey panicked.

Shit. Shit shit shit, where'd they go???

Practically runs in the halls trying to find them

Knows Lucifer will have his head for this if he can't track 'em down.

Ends up hearing some kind of ruckus in the courtyard

And finds a big group of students forming a circle and chanting "Fight!"

"Oh yell!" Is momentarily distracted from his problem and joins the group. "Fight! Fight! Fight--."

Oh shit. That's his human in the circle!

Mammon's brain just started buffering as he watched MC dodge and weave, even getting some good hits in. The second brother was actually pretty impressed.

The lower demon in the fight eventually lost his footing and fell to the ground, giving an opening for MC to give a big kick between his legs and the demon let out a shrill scream. His green skin started smoking and changed to grey as it hardened and suddenly seemed more like stone than a person.

The circle of students started cheering and Mammon's jaw practically hit the floor.

Holy shit, the human did it!

MC fell the ground, panting heavily and bruised from head to toe.

Mammon finally rushed up to them.

"Damn, MC! You're gonna give me a heart attack!"

All of a sudden, some students started running and others just quickly jumped back, revealing Lucifer and Diavolo.

....yep, he's dead.

The two older demons started asking MC questions as they caught their breath and Mammon tried to sneak away.

Lucifer grabbed his brother by his jacket, but otherwise paid him no mind as MC told their tale.

Apparently this demon that sits behind them in their Devildom History class had been giving them crap for a while; calling them names and pushing them around. Today they even started touching them in places that made them wanna break the demon's hand.

MC snapped and told them such. The demon only grinned. Honestly, he was probably waiting for them to say that.

From there, he dragged them out by their hair and the rest is rather obvious.

Diavolo had some of his men carry the demon away. Apparently, the stone-like skin is defense mechanism, essentially the equivalent of a turtle hiding in their shells for that sub-race of demon.

The prince assured MC that the demon will be dealt with and tasked Lucifer with getting them healed up.

Mammon was hung upside down from the roof for a few hours for letting this happen, but MC was patched up and okay in the end.

Leviathan:

He usually buys all of his otaku stuff off of Akuzon

But occasionally, he likes to go out and by manga at this store downtown.

It's a once in a blue moon sort of thing, but he still does it

MC felt like taking a walk so they joined him

The two explored the shop as Levi fanboyed about seemingly every other series he passed.

The otaku had already started a pile of manga he planned to buy.

He didn't even notice when MC left his side until he approached the counter to pay

Boy just assumes you bailed on him at first and sinks into self-loathing mode

Until he heard a scream from outside.

He abandoned his manga and raced out, just in time to see another demon run for it and MC leaning against the building.

Their right arm was bleeding from the holes and claw marks made into it.

The third brother started freaking out and rushed them home, even leaving his books there.

When they get back, Lucifer patches them up with a first aid kit and a little bit of a potion.

MC explains how they were shopping with Levi when all of a sudden they saw Beel outside the store waving at them

She went out to talk to him, but then suddenly, it wasn't Beel anymore.

Apparently, it was a shapeshifting demon and, since they specifically choose Beel's form to take, Lucifer assumed that they must have been watching them for a while and planning this attack. They likely chose Beel because they knew he was someone MC would let their guard around.

Levi felt like crap for letting them get hurt, but MC said it was their fault for being tricked.

Lucifer decided it was both their faults and gave them both a long lecture

Satan:

The fourth brother invited MC out for coffee

The blonde actually really likes the atmosphere of coffee shops and wanted to share it with them

The two ordered their coffee and sat at their table while talking about books. He recently read a book on artic fauna from the human world and was comparing the information he read with their own knowledge

It was a very relaxing experience like most of MC's quality with Satan.

Before the two of left, MC had to stop in the restroom.

That demon waited patiently for the human at their table, but when almost ten minutes went by, he became a bit annoyed and puzzled.

Not wanting to be rude, but also ready to leave, Satan approached the bathroom door

He paused mid knock when her heard a low growl followed by a cry from MC

Now in his demon form, the blonde kicked the door off its hinges. It wasn't locked or anything, but the man was super pissed.

Found a demon pressing MC, who had a gash in their head, against the opposite wall

'An eye for an eye' is more or less the philosophy he followed here, or rather, a head for a head.

He took the demon and slammed his head into another wall over and over again.

MC had to run up and tell him to stop after the other demon passed out.

They left the demon on the floor of the bathroom and Satan, with his arms around MC to keep them close, headed back to House of Lamentation

The human didn't want the other brothers to see them like this and worry so Satan snuck them into his room and went to get the first aid kit.

It was quiet between the two as he patched them up.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." He said as he finished with their stitches. "Seeing you hurt like that just made my blood boil. They deserved it, but you shouldn't have had to watch."

"It's okay... thank you for saving me."

The two spent the rest of the night huddled together in his room, reading and just settling down from the incident.

Asmodeus:

Shopping trip!

Asmo was a bit too enthusiastic about it, but that's part of why MC was all too willing to go

He mainly just wanted to see MC in cute outfits, but also bought a few for himself

Any self-consciousness MC might feel on her own is long gone when they spend time with him. He's always hyping them up and complimenting them and overall making them feel beautiful.

Time spent with Asmo is always a good time and well spent.

The fifth brother does actually leave their side for a bit after they found someone hot to flirt with

MC didn't mind and just let the Avatar of Lust do his thing as they continued to look through the racks.

At some point a very good looking demon approached them and started flirting with them

It became obvious that this dude was one of Asmo's demons, another demon of lust

Even with this in mind though, their attention really did make the human feel special, even if they probably said such sweet words to everyone

MC underestimated the demon, thinking that just because Asmo wasn't the aggressive sort that the demons under him wouldn't be either

Ends up following him out of the store and makes out with him against the wall of the building

They didn't understand why they were doing this, but the human's mind had been feeling foggy for a while now.

Suddenly, MC's whole body started to feel heavy and they were so dizzy that their vision was just a blur

Ends up passing out and waking up a few minutes later to Asmo crying as he stood over them and begging them to wake up

"Azzy?"

The man threw his arms around them.

Finds out that the fifth brother went looking for them when he saw that they weren't in the store anymore. He came outside just in time to see one of his underlings try to suck their soul out of their body.

As soon as they heard their superior's voice though, they dropped the human and ran.

The two went straight home and Asmo was extra clingy with them for the rest of the day.

Beelzebub:

The two of them went together to Madam Screams since they were both craving sweets.

Beel was really hungering for a cherry pit pie (though of course he planned on order other things as well) while MC was really hankering for some chocodevil cake.

The two happily got in line to pick out their treats, but MC stepped out to get a clearer view of the case with all of the treats to see if they wanted anything different instead.

Ends up getting attacked by a famished, minor demon of gluttony and slammed down on the glass case containing the sweets.

Beel jumped into gear; he changed into his demon form and threw the other demon off of them.

During the skirmish, the two ended up breaking down a wall and crushing three tables.

When the fight ended, the big guy rushed up to MC to make sure they're okay.

The human was bleeding and had a lot of glass shards embedded in their back and arms.

Though worried, the sweet boy keeps himself together and carefully takes out the bigger shards.

Rushes them home, treats forgotten.

Once home, Lucifer is the one who gets the rest of the glass out of their back and cleans up their wounds.

Beel stays by their side and lets them squeeze their hand when Luce's clean up hurts too much.

Luce gives his younger brother a lecture for all the stuff he had broken back at Madam Screams, but is surprisingly lenient with him.

The older brother didn't say it (and honestly, he should have), but he was proud of his brother for stepping up and protecting MC, but at the same time, expected nothing less from him.

Yeah, Lucifer will likely get sent the bill, but MC's safety is more important.

Belphegor:

Belphie had fallen asleep during class; no surprise there.

The rest of the students left the room when class ended, but the seventh brother continued to sleep at his desk.

MC found his sleeping face cute and didn't want to wake the demon

So instead, they hung around the classroom, waiting for the Avatar of Sloth to awake; the school day was over and the classroom wasn't going to be used for anything else so they thought there'd be no harm in hanging around.

Sadly, they were wrong.

Another student, a jerk from their Seductive Speechcraft class had waited for them to leave the classroom in order to harass them, but when they didn't come out, he came in.

Eventually had them backed up against the wall and forcing their hand up their shirt, causing the human to yelp.

He tried covering their mouth with his other hand, but MC bit them, angering the demon and leading them to putting their hands around their throat as he yelled at them.

The entire time, the minor demon never saw the Avatar of Sloth sleeping at his desk.

Big mistake.

Belphie woke up and saw the scene before him, turning into his demon form real quick.

Didn't hesitate to grab a hold of the bastard and make him let go of MC, who was now gasping for much needed air.

The seventh brother used his miasma aura to weaken the demon as he was now the one doing the choking with the lower demon.

MC covered their face and cried in their corner on the floor.

It was too similar to That Night™️ and the human was bordering on panic attack because of it.

Once the minor demon passed out, Belphie turned and saw MC crying on the floor.

He rushed up to them, but stopped once MC started screaming and begging for him to stay back.

That look in their eyes... it was the same fearful look he remembered from That Night™️

And it killed Belphie inside because he never wanted them to be scared of him ever again.

He waited for the human to calm down and, with their permission, slowly approached them.

He wanted to hug them, but was afraid that they'd just be reminded of it even more so he held back.

Surprising him, the human hugged him instead.

He held them tight for as long as they needed and started to notice the bruises forming on their neck

The two went home after that and reported the incident to Lucifer before Belphie dragged MC with him for a nap.

He chose Beel and his' room since he knew the attic would probably be too much for them right now.

Cuddled close to them and apologized for all of it. For falling asleep and leaving them defenseless. For the other demon's attack. For scarying them. Above all, that he was sorry for That Night™️

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc

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lyssismagical · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Tony tells peter he hates him in the heat of a argument and then goes on a long mission and doesn’t have time to apologize and comes back to a depressed peter and apologizes

This is literally so old I’m so sorry lmao hope this is alright

tw oops i killed may again, depression, grief, arguing?

The grief builds on his back like Atlas holding up the sky.

He’s trying. He wants to scream at the world that he’s trying. Of course, he’s trying. He’s putting one hundred and ten percent into every obstacle thrown his way, every responsibility asked of him, every favor he adds to his list. He’s trying. He’s trying. He’s trying.

He doesn’t know how to try any harder, he doesn’t know how to put more effort into everything he’s doing. He doesn’t know how to be better.

Sleep becomes something only done when absolutely necessary, every couple days, only a few hours caught on the train or in detention or on the couch when Tony makes him give in to his exhaustion.

He knows he’s being hard on Tony. He doesn’t need all of Peter’s bullshit on top of everything else he deals with. He’s already done so much, offered up a bedroom in his tower, held his hand at May’s funeral, paid for everything he could ever want, he even got Peter an emotional support dog to take care of him when Tony can’t.

But Peter just can’t seem to repay him. He doesn’t even have the decency to be a good kid while under Tony’s roof.

He gets detentions, he skips classes, he gets hurt patrolling, he puts off his own needs, he snaps at Tony, he isolates himself, he refuses to deal with the stress he’s under. He’s making everything so much harder on the only person who’s still around.

It’s not fair on Tony.

But Tony takes it all in stride.

He never gets upset with Peter, never pushes him, never gets angry.

It makes Peter angrier, in turn. He wants to ruin the last good thing he has, he wants to destroy everything he stands on, he doesn’t deserve to have Tony.

“Leave me alone,” he mutters, trying to push past Tony to lock himself in his room.

“No, I need to talk to you real quick. C’mere,” Tony says, waving him over. “We’ve got a mission that might last a little bit, so you’re going to be here alone with Pepper and Happy, alright?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m seventeen.”

“They’re not babysitters, they’re just around if you need anything.”

“I can take care of myself.” Peter knows he’s being irritated for no reason, Tony’s done everything right and Peter won’t stop picking fights. “I don’t need them and I don’t need you looking over my shoulder, criticizing everything I do.”

Tony sighs softly. “I don’t think you can’t. I just worry, that’s all.”

“When your parents died, you went on a crazy drinking, drugs, and gambling binge for like twelve years. I get a couple detentions after losing my fourth parental figure and suddenly I’m spiraling out of control? I’m incompetent? I’m mental?”

He hates himself, a deep dark pit in his stomach, threatening to swallow him whole in his self-loathing. He hates that he’s doing this, hates that he’s going to throw everything he has at Tony, make him hate him, just because he can’t possibly bear the kindness he’s been shown.

“Pete, kid, I don’t think that at all.”

“I’m not you!” Peter spits, mouth wobbling and raking a hand through his messy hair. “You’re not my dad! You can’t keep me locked up here forever. I turn eighteen in six months, and I won’t stick around to continue playing into your House Fantasy. I’m not your kid. We’re not family.”

The shocked look on Tony’s face makes Peter feel worse, it makes the monster in his chest happier knowing Peter’s suffering like he deserves.

“Kid-”

“I’m not a kid!” He’s moments away from crying, voice breaking and hands shaking. He wishes he was still a kid, wishes he could be coddled and taken care of and loved, but he’s not that kid anymore. “I didn’t ask for you to take me in and pretend to care! I didn’t ask for you to ruin my life! It’s your fault May’s gone. If you hadn’t put me on the Superhero Radar, nobody would’ve gone after my family.”

Tony shakes his head, shoulders slumping. “Peter-”

“Don’t. You’ve made excuses for everything you’ve ever done like the Murder-Bot and the war between the Avengers and dragging me out to Germany. You can’t make an excuse for this. You’re the reason I have nothing.”

“I know you’re upset, kid, I get it, but you can’t blame the world forever.”

Peter rolls his glassy eyes, putting more distance between him and Tony. “I don’t blame the world, I blame you.”

“And that’s fine, Peter, okay? Blame me, hate me, I don’t care, but don’t bottle this up. You don’t have to do this on your own, it isn’t healthy,” Tony says.

And that just makes the monster in his chest angrier because despite Peter being the most ungrateful brat, Tony’s still being nothing but kind to him, showing him love. He doesn’t deserve it. He can’t stand it.

“Says you,” he says, shoving a hand through his hair and wiping his eyes as discreetly as he can. “And either way, I don’t need to talk about my fucking feelings. I need May back. Unless you can find a way to do that, I don’t care what you have to offer. You hated your parents, you have no idea what it’s like to lose a parent that loves you.”

This finally seems to get under his skin. “My mother loved me. I know exactly what it’s like. I had Jarvis, I had Peggy, I know what it’s like to lose someone I love.”

“No, you don’t,” Peter spits back. “You’re selfish. You’ve never cared about another person unless they have something to offer you. If you cared about anyone, if you cared about me, you never would’ve come after me all those years ago. You’re the reason I became a real superhero, the reason I lost Ben, May, MJ. You’re the reason I died, missed five years. It’s all because of you.”

“Don’t you dare throw everything at me, I didn’t make you do anything-”

“When I was a kid, you were my hero. But I’ve learned your true colors since then. You’re nothing more than a selfish, cowardly, greedy, profiteer who’d do anything to get his turn in the limelight as a hero, even if it means using children to do so.”

Tony’s face goes cold, all of his most hated parts of his history thrown in his face by someone who was supposed to love him. “God, Peter, I’ve done everything I can to make sure you were okay-”

“Okay? I have nothing but you to take care of me now. I’d rather be on the streets than here another day longer.”

“You were the one person who was never supposed to betray my trust. I hate you.”

FRIDAY interrupts. “Boss, they’re waiting for you on the jet.”

“I have to go.” Tony already sounds like he regrets what he said, but Peter feels satisfied. He got what he wanted. “Fri, don’t let Peter leave the tower while I’m gone unless he has supervision. You’re grounded until further notice.”

It only takes all of a few seconds for Peter to break down.

His knees hit the floor and he lets out a heaving sob, trembling like a leaf. He hates himself more than anything. He hates that he needs to throw everything away. He hates that he ruined the last relationship he had. He hates it all. He doesn’t know how to go on. He wants to be held.

He wants Tony.

But there’s no way Tony’s ever going to hold him or take care of him or love him after what he just put him through.

He’s on his own.

He curls up in one of Tony’s old MIT hoodies on Tony’s empty bed, sniffling like a child.

May’s gone.

Tony’s not going to let him stay.

He’s on a timeline now. It’s only a matter of time before Tony gets back and kicks him out.

He calls Tony’s number again.

There’s no answer.

It’s been three days.

Pepper comes up to see him and he’s just as pathetic as before.

“Hi, honey, is everything okay? Friday’s worried.” She comes into the room, sits on the edge of his bed, hand on his ankle. It soothes at least a little bit of his desperation to be touched.

“I’m a monster,” Peter sniffles in response. “I yelled at him, I said all the things I promised I never would, I told him it was his fault. He hates me, he said so.”

Pepper sighs, she’s almost worse with emotions than Tony is, too tactical, logical, rational. “He doesn’t hate you, Peter. He loves you more than anything. He knows you’re having a rough time.”

“No, you should’ve heard him. He hates me. He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Fri, patch us through to Tony, tell him it’s an emergency.”

Peter sits up suddenly. “It’s not, Pepper, don’t bother him, I’m just being-”

“Pep?”

“Hi, Tony, can you talk some sense into your kid?”

Tony doesn’t hesitate for even a second. “Kid, I got upset the other day, and I’m sorry. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You could literally murder me with your bare hands and I still wouldn’t hate you.”

“I was so mean.” He sounds like a petulant child, demanding to be heard, to get yelled at. “I called you- I said some awful things.”

Tony sighs. “Listen, I can’t talk for much longer. I’m not mad, kiddo. I was so angry after I lost my parents, I lashed out at everyone and everything, including myself. And I think that’s what you’re doing to. You didn’t do that to hurt me, you did it to hurt yourself, and I’m sorry I let it get to me. You can push me away for the rest of your life, and I will never not have your back.”

Peter curls up tighter in his bed like somehow his sheets will protect him from the world of horrors around him. He sniffles again, pulling Tony’s sweater up to his nose to breath in the soothing smell of motor oil and expensive cologne.

“It hurts.”

“I know, kiddo,” Tony murmurs, as gentle as ever. “Over time it’ll get easier, I promise. It won’t always hurt as bad as it does right now.”

Peter’s pillow is damp beneath his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“I know, bambino, it’s okay. You’re more than forgiven, alright? I’m going to be home in just a few more days. Just hang in there.”

“And I get to stay.” It’s not a question, it’s a simple statement. Tony doesn’t hate him, he’s not going to kick him out for his outburst. “Thank you.”

“I love you, kid, no thanks needed.”

Peter sniffles, mouth wobbling, breathes in the hoodie’s smell of home, says, “I love you too.”

Peter cleans himself up.

It all feels like chores, like it takes all his effort to do the once simple tasks like showering, getting dressed, tidying a bit, eating. But he feels a little more human once he’s done.

And by the time he’s a few episodes into a comfort TV show, Tony’s arriving home.

“We finished up quicker than I thought and-”

Tony’s got an armful of teenager before he can even blink an eye.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says, breathless and desperate. There’s a hand in his hair and a kiss pressed to the crown of his head and he feels like he can finally breathe. “I didn’t mean anything I said, I’m just, I’m so sorry.”

“I know, kiddo, trust me, I know.”

Peter lets out a sigh of relief. “And you promise it’ll get easier?”

“I promise, and I also promise that I’ll be there every step of the way.”

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideyspeaches @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames @you-did-it-sir @not-today-thx @fandomstuffff {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

#lyss writes #lyss answers #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #irondad fic #iron man #spiderman #pepper potts #irondad and spiderson

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exquisitley-obsessed · 4 years

Text

The Dinosaur and the Vampire Part Three (Carlisle Cullen x Reader)

Author: exquisitely-obsessed

Request: hi can you do a one shot for Twilight where the reader is best friends with Bella and is there at the car crash in the first movie, they go to hospital and that’s where the reader meets Carlisle, really fluffy, thanks

Word Count: 5000+

Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Warnings: nothing

A/N: This is and this isn’t the final part of the story. I’ve already got a draft for a part four but it’s also going to be able to work as a one shot in itself. Here’s a hint - it’s got something to do with the plot of New Moon. Kinda obvious but I LOVE angst. My requests are open <3 But if you’re interested you should check out my masterlist here!!

previous part

Y/n felt crazy. It was the middle of the afternoon also the middle of a storm and she was standing on Bella’s doorstep, half-crying.

Her day trip to the Cullen’s house was only a few days ago and yet so much had changed since then. Bella was basically no where to be seen, now constantly spending time with Edward to the point where she even ditched school with him after Biology leaving y/n to drive herself home.

Moreover, the Carlisle incident had also wedged a gap between her and Bella. After the silent drive home back, y/n waited until Bella was busy with Charlie before heading to the nearest store and treating herself to an assortment of bathing items. New shampoo and conditioner, body wash, body scrub, shaving cream, razors, body lotion, leave in conditioner, facial oils; the list went on. Y/n knew she could never speak to Bella about it, too mortified over what Carlisle had said never mind the fact she was crushing on the 20-something year old doctor and (adoptive) father of Bella’s boyfriend.

All this combined with Jess talking her ear off about the dance, her parents pressuring her about college and her grades slipping; it had all become a bit too much. Her last straw was an argument with her mum about the dishes which left her storming out of the house, hopping the fence and knocking on Bella’s door. She couldn’t take it anymore, she needed her friend.

“Hey Charlie, is Bella in?” Y/n watched as Charlie took in her groggy appearance, wrapped in one of her dad’s old jumpers which had holes spotted along the sleeves.

“I’m sorry she’s not,” Charlie answered, his eyes tentative. Y/n tried not to act surprised, after all what did she expect. “She’s at the Cullen’s house, playing baseball or something.” Y/n could feel the angry tears prickling behind her eyes, she had never felt so alone and abandoned and she hated herself for it. She wanted with every inch of her heart to brush it off and just be happy for Bella’s newfound romance, but this seemed to come at the price of her own happiness. “Hey y/n are you okay-”

“Yeah.” Y/n answered a little too quickly, wrapping her arms around herself and nodding furiously. “It can wait. I think I’m going to go for a drive or something.” A somewhat forced smile slipped onto her cheeks as she tried to shake off her disappointment. “Could you tell Bella that I was asking after her?”

“Course.” Charlie said calmly, his gaze still soft and worried.

“Thanks, uh, bye Charlie. Have a nice evening.” Y/n splurted turning away from the door and hopping the fence. Without looking back y/n unlocked her car and quickly got inside, aware of Charlie’s lingering fatherly gaze. After sitting still for a moment, not quite sure what to do with herself she decided to drive down to La Push. The rocks, the ferocious waves, the abandoned feeling of the place. It was exactly what she needed. Trying not to let the tears brim over she turned on the radio and spluttered the engine to life.

Turning out of her driveway she felt better already. Some distance would be nice, plus she never knew who she might bump into along the way, it would be nice to see Jacob again. However, as she was driving down her street she noticed Bella’s red truck speeding toward her. From what she could see Edward was driving, a terrifying expression cut into his face as he glared at the road; Bella peering at him with an estranged fear, tears in her eyes. Y/n only saw them for a second before they passed, headed for home.

Had they been fighting? Y/n’s heart lurched for Bella. Despite Bella’s lack of communication recently, y/n still understood how much Edward meant to her, and of course she would still be there for her.

For a moment she wondered if she should turn back, wait till Edward left and then call on the house again, but her mind was already carrying her to the beach. She needed this time to herself; a break from everyone and everything.

***

Y/n hadn’t been driving long when she was pulled from her mind once more. She was driving down one of the lesser known roads, green and blue blurring around her when she caught sight of someone standing on the side of the road.

The first thing y/n noticed was her hair, ferocious red. It exploded around the woman’s head in fiery ringlets. Her clothes were raggedy and didn’t fit her very well: a tartan button up and loose fitting beige trousers. Over her shoulder hung a backpack with a bottle of water and thick rope looped off the side. She was waving her hands desperately in the air, clearly trying to catch y/n’s attention. Without thinking y/n slowed the car and rolled down her window.

“Are you okay, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank God!” The woman cried in a strange accent. “I was hitchhiking when I thought I saw a bear. Ran like I never had before but now I’m lost. If you could just drive me to the nearest main road I’ll be able to find my way back to my car.”

Y/n couldn’t help but drink in the appearance of the woman now that she was closer. Her hair appeared even more explosive, a stark contrast with her ivory skin which appeared dewy and soft. Perfect freckles were sprinkled across her nose underneath a pair of dark eyes. She was unimaginably beautiful.

“Sure!” Y/n found herself saying without really taking it into consideration. She was pretty sure the woman looked like that girl Martha in her history class, maybe this was her older sister. “Hop in!”

It would be a minor detour, wouldn’t take long at all. The woman moved fluidly to the side of the car, opening the door with a flash before seating herself comfortably next to her. Y/n paused a moment, waiting for the woman to pull on her seat belt, when realising she wouldn’t she started the engine and drove on.

“The plan will work.” Edward comforted Bella, the two now back at the Cullens house following their performance for Charlie. The Cullens themselves rushed around them, preparing.

“Rosalie and Esme are heading down to your house as we speak. They won’t take their eyes off of Charlie. He’s perfectly safe.” Carlisle added, Bella shot him an appreciative smile. A pause of silence.

“Carlisle what about y/n?” Edward pondered aloud.

“Already thought about it.” Carlisle answered without looking up, Bella glanced between the two. First Edward’s invitation (for which he brushed off all her questions and instead supplied the phoney answer of wanting to know Bella’s friends better) and now this?

“What about y/n?” Bella asked. Edward took a deep breath, not meeting her gaze and ignoring her question.

“James and Victoria have no reason to suspect y/n is of any importance to Bella, Charlie or any of us. They’ve never seen y/n with us, they haven’t heard us talk about her. Y/n is no more than a neighbour. Besides, with Rosalie and Esme having eyes on Charlie they automatically have eyes on y/n.”

“Y/n’s not at home though,” Bella interjected worriedly, “We saw her pass us, she was leaving in her car.”

“What.” Carlisle stated rather than asked, his voice dropping as well as his easy smile. In fact, his entire body language changed, he stood taller, stretching his shoulders forward slightly as he eyes flickered a darker shade of bronze.

“It’s fine.” Edward said, not phased by Carlisle’s reaction, “I read her mind, she’s headed to La Push. If Victoria or James goes onto their territory...” Bella shot him a confused look.

“You’re right.” Carlisle murmured, relaxing slightly as he chewed on the new piece of information, “As long as she’s there she should be safe. I’ll send word to Rosalie, she can keep an eye out for y/n’s return.”

“Let’s go.” Edward muttered without another word.

***

“Just a few more turns then we’ll be on Bogachiel Way, you should be able to find your way from there.” Y/n said automatically, wearing a cheery grin as she hoped not to spook the woman any further - it sounded like she had had a rough day.

“Actually I was hoping we could take a left," The woman spoke, it was the first thing she had said since being in the car. Her voice was smooth like honey but not overtly-sweet, there was definitely some bite in there.

“Are you sure?” Y/n’s brows furrowed, “I haven’t been down there before and we could risk both of us getting lost,” She chuckled to herself, “And-” She turned to face the woman and stopped abruptly, her jaw clamping shut.

“What is it?” The woman asked, not breaking eye-contact. Y/n felt as though she was being compelled, she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Your eyes,” She stuttered, “They’re...blood-red.” She tried to laugh, speaking as though the woman would be surprised herself.

“Oh.” Was all the woman said in a voice completely devoid of all emotion. “Well that just gives it away.”

“What-” But the woman had already snapped her fingers through y/n’s hair, and all she remembered was the sight of the driver’s wheel as her skull crashed into it.

***

Bella sighed heavily from where she was sat in the hotel room. The TV presenting her with some daytime talk show with a painfully loud and obnoxious host. Alice and Jasper were completely still next to her as they watched, no emotion, they looked as though they weren’t even thinking.

The phone exploded with a shrill ring that made Bella jump, before she could get up Alice was already answering it, nodding along to whatever the other person was ranting about. Bella waited patiently with watchful eyes, if it was Carlisle that was calling Edward couldn’t be too far away.

“Bella,” Alice turned to her with a vacant expression, holding out the phone. Bella went to reach it when all of sudden it was falling out of Alice’s grasp with a resounding ‘k-dunk’. Bella went to protest when she realised Alice couldn’t see her, she was seeing something else, something from the future - Jasper was behind her in a second.

“What is it?” He asked soothingly, his hands resting on her shoulders.

“It’s...Victoria.” Alice spluttered distantly, her golden irises flitting back and forth.

“Charlie is he-” Bella began.

“She’s driving. She’s happy.” Alice continued.

“Alice, is Charlie-” Bella tried again.

“Oh.” Alice once more continued as if she hadn’t heard. Then it was over and she turned to Jasper with wide, fearful eyes. “It’s y/n. She has y/n tied up in the back of the car.”

“What?” Bella distantly muttered behind her, meanwhile Edward’s frightful voice could be heard yelling through the phone from the floor. Jasper swept down and twirled the phone into his fingers.

“Edward.” He said clearly, “We have a problem.”

“Is y/n okay?” Bella asked shakily, her fingers half covering her mouth. Alice simply collapsed back down on the couch, her brows furrowed, eyes frightful and she chewed on what she had just seen.

***

“What’s going on Edward?” Carlisle asked as he shifted the car up a gear, racing down the motorway. Edward’s eyes were wide, fluttering left and right as he took in new information.

“What’s wrong?” Emmett asked from the backseat, picking up on the awful tension.

“We have a serious problem.” Edward began.

“How serious?” Carlisle asked, not removing his eyes from the road and yet his voice was still calm, supportive.

“Alice just had another vision but it was of Victoria, apparently she’s driving somewhere with y/n tied up on the backseat.”

What Edward had said didn’t seem to settle with his audience for a while. Carlisle’s face enigmatic, Emmett just simply confused.

“Who’s y/n?” Emmett pondered aloud. Y/n’s presence and affect on the family had pretty much been kept secret between Edward and Carlisle, and Edward was only in on it because of his ability.

“A friend of Bella’s.” Edward answered so Carlisle didn’t have to. “Her best friend, in fact. She could be used for leverage.” Carlisle still hadn’t spoken although his knuckles where blushing blue from his grip on the wheel. “Carlisle?” Edward asked after a moment, still on the phone to Jasper. No response.

“We’re going to need to split up.” Carlisle’s voice was calm, the same as it always was. It was only his eyes that were different, flickering to a darker shade of bronze. “Emmett, Edward, I’m going to need you two to keep driving. Head for the airport and buy yourselves plane tickets to Seattle. Regroup with Jasper and Alice and keep Bella safe.”

“And you?” Emmett asked, now curious.

“I’m going to turn around and head back to Forks. See if I can track down Victoria and stop this from getting anymore messy than it has to.”

“How are you going to...ah.” Edward’s question was answered when Carlisle swung a hard right and sped into the car dealership. Before they knew it Carlisle was up and out of the car throwing the keys to Edward.

“Don’t scratch the Porsche,” Was all he said. “It was a gift.”

“Are you sure?” Emmett called out leaning out of the back window, “You don’t need help?” Carlisle smiled at his son.

“It’s more than I don’t want you to see what I’m about to do.” And with that he turned and disappeared into the building. Edward in a flash was sitting in the driver’s seat, starting up the engine - desperate to see Bella again.

“So,” Emmett smiled broadly as he leaned back and stretched out his arms across the seats, “This girl...y/n...she’s important right.” Edward sighed deeply, before glancing over his shoulder with a soft grin.

“You have no idea.”

***

Y/n stirred, her head feeling as though it was going to pound out of her skill. Distantly she was aware of something holding her wrists and ankles close together and the hum of the engine beneath her.

At first her vision was blurry, and it didn’t help that the trees were rushing past her window and an incomprehensible rate. It was also dark outside, too dark, how long had she been out?

“Wakey, wakey.” A dark voice fluttered down at her. Y/n groaned in response, her hands, bound, automatically rushed to her forehead and when she pulled them back they were slick with blood. This couldn’t be happening.

“What’s going on?” Y/n was surprised how calm her voice sounded as her eyes focused on the sight of the red-head, her wild appearance now feeling threatening. This woman must be insane.

“You have no idea what you owe me.” She spoke in riddles. “Lying there bleeding across these seats. I almost messed up the whole plan.” Yes, she was definitely insane.

“I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. “Have we met before?”

“No.” The woman rolled her eyes, “I promise you would remember if we had.”

“Where are we going?” Y/n didn’t feel like playing into her games, she was petrified as it was.

“Seattle. A girls trip.” She grinned menacingly at her over her shoulder. “James just called, apparently some of your friends just booked a flight there. We can’t risk flying though so I’m afraid we’re driving.”

“To Seattle?”

“We’ll be there before you know it. I’m a quick driver.” She was, the trees were rushing by so quickly no distinctive feature could be made of them. Whenever they came across another car on the lonesome road it whipped by within the millisecond.

“What did you mean by my friends?”

“The Cullens, silly. I saw you hanging around Bella’s house, asking after her even. That’s why your here.” Y/n couldn’t make sense of it, the jumbled words and the fizzing in her head meant everything she tried to process felt scrambled.

“I think you’ve got the wrong girl.” Y/n muttered, her eyes scrunching up as she tried to endure her throbbing skull..

“I’m not sure about that.” Victoria glanced in her rear view mirror, y/n noticed and, twisting in her seat, she watched as a white blur stayed hot on their trails, following the cars movements perfectly. She tried to focus on the identity of the driver but another wave of nausea rolled through her guts.

When this had passed she glanced around panicking. Looking down she noticed the rope, about an inch thick and bound several times around her wrists and ankles in expert fashion. It didn’t take long for y/n to conclude there was no way she could get out of them herself. Glancing around, her head feeling a littler clearer she looked for any way to slow the car down or at least call for help.

Trying to look inconspicuous, y/n leaned forward and looked through the window resting her fingers near the trigger to pull it down. With a quick glance at the woman she slammed down the trigger; but the window rolled down all to slowly and all to loudly. The woman’s head snapped around.

“Bitch.” Was all she spat before rolling the window back up with the panel by her arm. “What were you going to do, make a jump for it? We’re going 150 on the motorway.” The number made y/n feel queasy but she had already committed now, she wasn’t just going to sit here and we carted off to her ‘girls trip’ in Seattle.

Quickly, y/n flipped the window down again and using the bony knot of the rope between her arms she began to attack the top of the glass the same moment the red-head began moving it back up. She wasn’t quite sure where the strength had come from but after a small fit of thwacking her arms against the window she became aware of the tiniest crack at the top. This fuelled her flame.

She started again, aiming directly at the crack beating her bound arms against it relentlessly. In the moment the pain ignited her fury although she was sure she would regret it later. All of a sudden the window gave, one piece fell and then suddenly the whole thing shattered. Before the woman could stop her she leaned out the window, her hair exploding in the wind as she was caught in the white cars headlights.

“Help!” She shrieked, the volume of her voice astounding even her. “Help! Get me out of here! Call the police!” Re-filling her lungs for another spout of shouts the woman leaned over the front seats grabbing a handful of y/n’s hair and slamming her back into the car.

“Insolent bitch!” The woman cried, taking her hands off the steering wheel to yank y/n over the divide between the front two seats. “If you make this anymore difficult for me I’ll find away to get Bella without your help!” This caught y/n’s attentions and she went limp across the seats, her head hanging back so she saw out the front of the car, the world upside down.

“Bella?” Y/n choked.

“If you keep struggling you’ll never see her again.” The woman twisted so that one hand gripped the steering wheel, the other holding y/n’s hair so she was firmly bent back against the armrest, straining her neck; y/n couldn’t help but notice the impossible strength at which she was being pinned down.

The short scrape had pulled and split y/n’s previous head wound: a deep cut curling above her left eyebrow. And when she had broken through the glass and leaned out the raw glass had cut her waist and cheeks. This meant that as y/n’s head was pulled back blood dribbled up her face, trickling into her eyes and leaving a mixture of blood, tears and sweat.

She wasn’t held in the position for long. At some point the woman gasped and let go, now holding two hands on the wheel. Y/n couldn’t quite see what was happening around her but she saw a flash of white and felt the cars wheels roll unstably. She snapped back into the backseat, now no longer interested in the window but rather trying desperately with her bound hands to buckle her seat belt.

As she focused on her bound hands she could faintly hear distant, familiar voices and the red-headed woman shouting back something incomprehensibly fast. Her instincts proved correct, within the minute the car leapt out of control underneath her, swerving off the road and rolling down the small hill. Clutching onto the overhead hanger for dear-life y/n felt her entire world upside down, the sickening scent of burning flesh before darkness finally coddled her once more.

***

Y/n stirred from unconsciousness for the second time in 24 hours and the first thing she noticed was the release on her wrists and ankles. Before she tried to open her eyes she fluttered her fingers over her wrists where there lay course indentations. The skin was tender to touch and she was sure the skin would be black and blue.

Trying to open her eyes she noticed the warm light above her, somehow this made her feel safe. Her head still throbbing furiously she tried to open them further provoking tears to prick behind her eyes and dribble down the sides of her face. A wave of nausea overtook her then and abruptly her body snapped up underneath her, once she was vertical it seemed to die down.

“Woah, woah, woah.” She heard a familiar voice call, she knew that voice. It appeared he had leapt from the shadows, guiding y/n back down but she protested, groaning audibly. “Slow down.” He said calmly, his fingers firm on her sides. A harsh intake of air whipped from her lips and his arms snapped back.

“Your fine it’s just...my sides.” Y/n muttered, wincing from the lingering stinging from her sides, the cuts from the glass of course.

“You’ve had a rough couple of hours.” Carlisle spoke into the silence. Y/n groaned pushing up again, this time Carlisle didn’t move to stop her. “You really shouldn’t sit up, you’ve got some serious head trauma.”

“Just for a sec.” Y/n’s voice was breathy as she pleaded with him, “I just feel too nauseous if I lie down.” He didn’t say anything, but he let her sit. Y/n had just assumed she was in the hospital what with the presence of Carlisle, but when she looked around she wasn’t startled to realise she was propped up on his kitchen counter top. A series of cashmere and fluffy looking blankets covering the surface to make it soft, she tried to ignore that a few were covered in blood.

“I assume you have a lot of questions.”

“You think?” Y/n didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know where to begin. It was a debate on whether to tell Carlisle her crazy story, to describe to him the red-headed woman with blood-red eyes, how she had talked about the Cullens and Bella. On the other hand, instead of explaining she wanted to ask questions; how had she ended up at the Cullens house, where was her car, what happened to the woman. She settled on her question. “Is Bella okay?”

Carlisle stared at her with a pondering expression, as if he were chewing on the information she had released by that question alone.

“Bella is fine.” He said slowly, his voice soft. He had stepped away from y/n and stood at the opposite counter top, running a white cloth (by the smell it was doused in alcohol) over an assortment of medical instruments. Y/n tried not to look at them. He turned to her suddenly, as if he were waiting for another question.

“Do you know what happened to me?” Y/n asked, her fingers rushing to her forehead. He was there in a second, his hand empty, holding her fingers back with his own gentle touch. He had moved with supernatural speed but y/n couldn’t process that right now, that wasn’t the craziest thing to happen tonight.

“Yes and no. Don’t touch your wound I’m not done.” He answered clearly, going back to his work. Y/n just stared at him, waiting for him to go on. He sighed. “I got a call saying that you were in danger. That you had been taken hostage by Victoria.” Y/n automatically linked the name with the face. “I came to help you. I was in the white ford bronco behind you.” Like deja-vu the images shot through her mind, leaning out the window calling for a help, unable to make out the figure in the white car.

“How come...” He was back assessing her wounds, dabbing it here and there, engrossed in his work. Her eyes were large, slightly dazed and glossy as she watched him through his arms, her eyes fixed on his own.

“How come...” His warm voice was only a whisper, guiding her along her words.

“You. How come it was you that came for me? You...” She trailed off again, aware even through her murky mind of her heartbeat picking up at his closeness.

“Because, and I know this is confusing,” He began, taking a break and looking directly into her eyes, capturing her attention, “I will always be there when you need me. Perhaps not necessarily when you want me...but always when you need me.” Y/n surprised herself by completely understanding what he was trying to convey. It all felt like a dream anyhow.

“When your car went off the side of the road.” He began, unable to return to his tools as he was caught in a memory, “I-” He trailed off, a flash of anger dancing in his eye. “I pried open your door and you were unconscious. And the blood-” He stifled something in his throat.

“You’re a doctor and you don’t like blood.” Y/n murmured, a smile slipping on her lips. Carlisle smirked.

“I’m not afraid of all blood, only yours.” He went back to work.

“You’re afraid of me?” She asked, her voice quiet and small. He paused, catching her off guard as he moved forward, his nose an inch from hers.

“I haven’t felt fear like I did tonight for three hundred years.” Y/n still felt like she was dreaming.

“It hurts.” She mumbled after a few moments of tense silence.

“I know, love.” He hummed, saddened at her pain. “Where?” Y/n went to brush her forehead but stopped herself, she then moved to her stomach, tentatively, afraid of showing Carlisle her exposed flesh she lifted her shirt slightly. Peering down herself she noticed a series of cuts dancing around her waist, in particular her front from where she had leaned on cut glass. If she were not mistaken, Carlisle’s breath hitched in his throat. She let her shirt drop.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Carlisle winced as if he disagreed.

“You shouldn’t even be this hurt in the first place.” He murmured, more to himself than anyone. “I thought that by leaving you alone I was protecting you. In reality, I was only pushing you away because I was afraid.”

“There’s that word again. Why do I scare you?”

“It’s not you per-say, more what you’ve made me realise about myself.”

“Carlisle...my heads spinning.” He met her eye before turning away grabbing something off the counter top.

“Here,” He murmured, a smirk lighting up his face. Looking down y/n caught sight of a roll of band-aid held between two of his slender fingers; the familiar dinosaur pattern somewhat sun-bleached.

“God, I can’t seem to escape those.” Y/n murmured softly smiling despite everything.

“Well I might’ve taken a box home since the accident.” Y/n eyed him, he had taken these from the hospital? “I guess I couldn’t help myself.” He said as if reading her mind, his brows now furrowed as he turned back to his work. He unwrapped a decent amount of plaster before tearing it with his fingers, finally he positioned it above her right eye and, soft as feather, pressed it against her head. As he had done this he had inched closer and closer, y/n’s legs automatically opening so that he may position himself comfortably.

“I have to say I think you’re going to get your wish.” Carlisle muttered softly.

“What?” Y/n whispered back, astonished at how close he was standing, his hip bones touching the inner of her knees.

“I think this cut may just scar. You can finally walk around town with something interesting to talk about.” Y/n rolled her eyes but grinned broadly, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

“By the way, what am I going to say, about this?” Her fingers reached up to her face resting against her dinosaur spotted plaster. Carlisle thought for a moment.

“You,” He began, reaching his own fingers up to join hers, “Were tired...and upset,” His voice was so soft, and yet the silence blanketed around them meant it filled the room. “And you went for a drive,” Chills sparked down her spine as he slowly lowered himself to her level, careful not to make any sudden movements. “And you...lost sight of things...for a moment.” She could feel cool breath brushing against her cheeks. “It was dark and you crashed...I saw it happen by chance, and helped.”

“Okay.” Y/n murmured. “But...that’s not the truth.”

“No,” He breathed into the tension, “Unfortunately the world cannot know the truth.”

“Can I?”

“I think it is what you’re owed.” Y/n pondered this.

“The woman?”

“She had disappeared before I got to you. Afraid probably.”

“Of you?” Y/n asked somewhat incredulously, but she could see it, the power in his voice, his control over a room.

“I have a...reputation.” Y/n just grinned, overwhelmed.

All of a sudden his cool fingers were brushing her hair off her face before resting either side of her head, his thumb back to brushing under her right eye. Y/n froze at the contact and yet he clearly found the movement completely natural as he tilted her chin to meet his gaze.

“There is so much about this world you have yet to discover. Right now, you are on the cusp of a discovery that may change your life forever and most certainly it will mine. We’ve been keeping something from you, me, Bella, Edward. But not out of contempt, or anger, or hate...but because it’s difficult to know how to best protect those whom you love. And if today is any indication, I’ve been doing it all wrong.”

“Love?” Y/n whispered. Carlisle paused heavily.

“It’s...not my fault, I promise.” Carlisle murmured, his nose brushing with hers ever so slightly, “There is a degree of destiny involved.” Y/n grinned as she pulled back slightly, but Carlisle’s hands never left her face.

“You speak in riddles.” This caused Carlisle to laugh, deep and heartily.

“A product of my age unfortunately. But, I promise. Things aren’t as complicated as they seem...or maybe they are. Either way, you no longer will be left in the dark.”

“Is this the part where you spill all of your dirty secrets?”

“How did you know?” He mocked with a grin. “Now listen carefully.” He pulled back leaving only cold air where he once was, but he remained in contact, holding onto y/n’s hand, brushing circles over the feathery veins as he seated himself next to her.

“There’s a lot you need to learn.”

next part

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morlock-holmes · 4 years

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Okay, we can go back to the 50s for your sake. What exactly happens to all of us who are getting plunged back into (more of) a living hell? Do we get to say "I wish I lived back when I still had rights" and then tell you off for talking about how much better things are for you?

Short answer is, "Yes, of course".

Long answer is that I in no way intend to romanticize the 1950s, or traditional Inuit parenting methods, or anything else. I don't like lying to children, and as I recall (I don't have the book in front of me), Temple Grandin's mother was told often not to expect her daughter to ever be able to function on her own.

But in the same book, we have two white middle class Americans, one of whom has offered several anecdotes about specific features of social expectations that helped them to navigate the world, and one has offered up exactly zero such anecdotes (He has an awful lot about social features that made things hard for him, though!)

The obnoxious right-wing and left-wing response is to just assert that all changes that have happened in history are linked; the only way to go back to the social connectedness or rules clarity of the 50s would be to return to everything about the 50s.

I don't think this is a well-supported position. Robert Putnam, in Bowling Alone, asserted that high social connectedness in the 60s correlated with more progressive views on racial equality.

This is what I mean by Panglossianism: the assertion that every historical change has been for the better, or, if it has not been for the better, that it was a necessary sacrifice to make things better. Obviously we didn't consult you, but your opinions on whether or not a given change was for the better are irrational and irrelevant.

So you get people on the left going, "Oh, you think social connectedness in the 60s would be more psychologically healthy for you? That means you also want segregation and sexism, because all that stuff comes as a package!

And then you get these right-wing serpents hissing in your ear, "They're right! All we need to do to make your life better is to shove women back in the kitchen and stop all this pesky race mixing and the good things you want will come back."

Which is cargo cult thinking.

You might then push for a sort of ahistorical approach; maybe instead of saying, "I kind of wish things were set up a little easier for people like me in some of the ways that they used to be," we should say, "Things aren't as easy for me as they could be, we should work on that for the future."

Here's the thing, in my experience, as someone with autism, you know what people do if you try that?

They gaslight the ever loving fuck out of you.

You say, "I think the particular milieu we're part of has features that make it unusually hostile towards autistic people" and all the allistic people go, "No it doesn't."

"Our social rules are completely explicit and everybody knows them. Nothing we do makes things more uncomfortable or hard to deal with for autistics then any other group or context, and if you're having trouble dealing with our social context, that has nothing to do with us, it's a weird personal problem that you should work on."

That's exactly what @argumate did in response to me! If Temple Grandin says that the lack of electronic distraction and the relative homogeneity of fifties manners helped her, but that those things became rarer as she grew up, she's wrong. That's the whole argument.

And when faced with that situation, it's pretty natural to reference the evidence you have that things could be better.

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

A Ghost is a Wish // G.W.

Summary: Three years after the events of Potions and Constellations, George Weasley cannot help but wonder of the ghosts that haunt the many rooms of the enchanted castle he now calls home.

A/N: Part two to Potions and Constellations! I have decided to make a mini series out of it, focusing on Professor!George and his many adventures at Hogwarts. Title is a quote from The Haunting of Hill House (I love that show so much). I don't think you necessarily need to read the first part to understand this, but some parts could be confusing.

Warnings: time skip, ghosts, spectres, hauntings, swearing, grief, established relationship, fluff, cute, fred is dead.

Word count: 3.8k

At this point in his life, George Weasley has been teaching three years. It wasn’t meant to be a permanent post, but rather a position filled until someone more qualified was found for the job. That was what McGonagall had led him to believe so many seconds, minutes, hours ago.

Yet, three years later, George was still to be found lecturing day in and day out to scores of young witches and wizards about the benefits and downfalls of potions and their ingredients. He didn’t say it often, but he had found his home within the walls of the dungeon that served as his classroom. He felt nothing but comfort as he meandered through the stone corridors of the school, greeting students by name, always getting a happy response in return.

Three years later, and he finds himself wholly in love with you and ready to dedicate his whole life to the profession of teaching in order to remain close to you. He misses his brother; the grief of losing someone so close to you isn’t something that simply fades over night, but having you close by, willing to share that burden makes it all the easier.

The grief of Fred still weighs him down; it still crawls up his throat and threatens to suffocate him, but he finds ways of managing whether it is planning a new lesson or distracting you from your own school work. However, it cannot be ignored for long and though the burden has been halved, George still finds himself missing and wondering about Fred.

----------

George paces the front of his classroom, his hands moving in circles as he explains the task to his class. A rather light potion for Sixth Years to be brewing but given that it’s Friday afternoon and Potions is the last lesson of the day for these students, George decides to go easy on them.

“I want you to revisit a potion from Second Year. Collect the ingredients for and brew a Wiggenweld Potion. You have the rest of the afternoon to do so and you can chat amongst yourselves. I’ll be making rounds so if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Auden Vincent raises his hand, waving it so fast there is genuine worry he might hit another student. Deciding not to repress his smile, George acknowledges the Sixth Year.

“Sir,” Auden begins, “Did you enjoy your time at Hogwarts?”

“What does that have to do with a Wiggenweld Potion, Auden?”

Auden shrugs, a large smile on his face that shows he knows exactly what he is doing. “I can’t help but be curious, you haven’t been here as long as the other teachers.”

“Three years, Auden. I’ve been teaching you Potions for three years.”

“Still,” The young teenager argues, “I think we would like to get to know you more.”

George sighs and glances at the clock. Knowing Auden and his tendency to disrupt lessons, George chooses to give in to the teenager. “I enjoyed my time at Hogwarts very much. Now, please, get on with your potion.”

From the frown that spreads across Auden’s face, it is clear that George has not given enough information. Already, the fight begins to light in Auden’s eyes, more and more questions rising to the brink, ready to be dropped into conversation and derail George’s lesson.

“Auden,” George sighs, “Before you ask any more questions, understand that I attended Hogwarts through the Second Wizarding War. Whilst I enjoyed my time at the school, I also fought in the war.”

Any argument Auden was going to pose falls flat; the fight leaves his eyes in a second. The teenager nods wordlessly before turning his attention back to the set work. George feels awful; he would love to do nothing more than to tell his students about his time at Hogwarts, but all of his memories contain Fred, and even though it’s been years, and even though his grief doesn’t haunt him as often as it used to, he just isn’t ready to verbalise such happy memories.

Rolling up his sleeves, George starts to wander around the classroom he has made his own. A whole wall is dedicated to lines and lines of ingredients; each one sealed in jars and carefully labelled. Think back to his own lessons in this very classroom, George can see how the room has lightened with his presence. The darkness that encompassed Snape completely absent as George expertly weaves through tables and past students.

He smiles encouragingly at every student; letting them know where they’re going and where they need some improvement. George believes that it is important to revisit past potions, to keep minds sharp and fingers nimble before moving onto something more difficult.

It’s as George is leant over the cauldron of Alexandra Shea that the door to the classroom opens. “I’ll be one moment,” George calls out before pointing Alexandra in the right direction.

“Take all the time you need, Professor Weasley.”

George smiles before he can help himself. Your relationship had never been a secret; the whole school knowing the two of you were in love long before either of you realise, but George still tried to keep some level of professionalism around students.

Tried being the operative word.

You stand by the doorway, one of George’s jumpers hanging from your torso, the sleeves are so long that they swallow your hands. A tired smile is on your face, your hair barely brushed into some semblance of a ponytail. Professionalism be damned when you look like that.

You’re perfect, he thinks as he brushes himself down before walking over to you.

“Love,” George greets as he sends the class back to their potions, “What are you doing up? You’re teaching tonight.”

You shrug, a soft smile spreading across your face, “I missed you. I wanted to see you.”

George smiles, feeling the familiar flush spread up his neck and to his cheeks. Years on, and you still make him feel like a teenage boy experiencing his first tryst with love. “Consider me flattered, Professor,” George flirts.

“You should be,” You counter, the soft smile still on your face, “Will I see you tonight?”

Friday evenings had been reserved for you two. Your schedule as the Astronomy Professor meant that you worked markedly different hours from George, but regardless of the piles of work and awkward hours, Friday evenings were set aside for you both.

Reaching out for your hand, George tangles your fingers together before squeezing. His gaze doesn’t leave yours as he replies, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I have to know the story behind Corona Borealis.”

You shake your head in exasperated fondness, “You’ve heard that one before.”

“I’ve heard them all before,” George reminds you; knowing your curriculum just as well as his own, “But every time feels like the first time when you tell me the story.”

You roll your eyes, “A flirt, Weasley. That’s what you are.”

“Only for you,” He mouths, not letting his students overhear every word of your conversation. George brings your hand to his lips, dropping a kiss to the back of it before dropping it, “Go back to bed, love. I’ll come see you before dinner.”

The smile on your face grows as you stand on your tiptoes, pressing a long kiss to his cheek – an innocent act that only holds headier promises for the future. “I’ll be waiting, Weasley.”

A flush spreads across George’s face as he watches you go, closing the door behind you. He waits a moment, calming down before turning back to the class. His students try to look as if they haven’t heard the whole exchange, intensely focused on the potions brewing in front of them.

“Not a word, Auden,” George warns, pointing at the student before throwing himself back into the melee.

-----------

Over his time as a Professor, George had come to known the ghosts of Hogwarts. As a student, he hadn’t bothered getting to know them – believing that pranks and jokes were of a higher importance that hearing the histories relayed by Professor Binns. However, now older and wiser, George made sure to spend time with the spectres that floated down corridors and through walls. He spoke to them, hearing their stories, understanding their histories.

George doesn’t admit it to anyone why he seeks out to know the stories of the ghosts of Hogwarts. He doesn’t tell a soul that he’s trying to find the answer to the one question that has plagued his mind since he took up the job offer from McGonagall all those years ago.

Nearly Headless Nick had greeted him with the same amount of gusto as he had when George was a First Year worried about spending his first night away from home and his mum. Nick often checked in with the Gryffindor he had watched grow up; often floated to the dungeon to see how George was doing, frequently staying longer to talk about anything and everything that occupied either of their minds.

The Bloody Baron was harder to talk to. A staunch Slytherin, the ghost was dedicated to his house, but warmed up to George somewhat when George explained how he worked and spent most of his time in the dungeon teaching Slytherins.

Peeves the Poltergeist has only ever respected a handful of people. Begrudgingly, he would admit that he admired the Marauders – confessing it now as they had all passed on and his words could not be used against him. Nonetheless, Peeves would tell any soul who would listen for than one minute that he respected the Weasley twins and their dedication to all things mischief. For George, it was easier to talk to Peeves. They could compare prank ideas and products for the shop, and slowly but surely, George grew to understand Peeves backstory.

Late at night, however, George couldn’t help but wonder whether there was one more ghost in the castle he had yet to meet.

The curiosity niggled at the back of his mind; the very idea of it settled deep within his bones, stirring him to life in the middle of the night when the ghosts were at their busiest. Countless times, George had woken from a daze to find himself with his hand on the handle to his door, ready to turn and find out for himself.

On one hand, George desperately wants to know whether there is a chance.

On the other hand, George knows that he barely coped in the months after the war. He knows that if he doesn’t get the answer he so desires, it could the setback he has been dreading.

----------

The corridors of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry have always had an uncomfortable atmosphere to them. When filled with the rushed footsteps of students, the pathways have a lighter air to them, but after the students are safely tucked up in their beds, the darker parts of the castle come out to play.

George’s grip on your hand remains tight as you both wander through the corridors of the school, keeping an eye out for straying students. Scores of portraits decorate the stone walls of the castle; each one a prominent figure throughout the history of witchcraft and wizardry. Each one is asleep; their snores punctuating the silence between you and George.

Checking the old watch on his left wrist, George sighs with relief, “Midnight. We can get back to bed now.”

You smile, happy for your extra-curricular task to be done, “Thank Merlin. Let’s head back.”

Something feels different about the corridors as the both of you make your way back to your shared rooms. There’s a charge to the air around you, something electric that only has your steps quickening the closer you get to your rooms.

It’s the odd flashes of silver you spy out of the corner of your eye that have your steps beginning to falter. There was a ghost nearby, but it could not be Peeves – you hear him before you see him unless he has something especially sinister planned. It’s not Nick, the Baron or the Friar – they’re all at Ravenclaw Tower, trying to persuade the Grey Lady to socialise more.

It has to be someone new.

But as you catch eyes with George, you realise that it has been years since a new ghost has made Hogwarts its home. The Battle of Hogwarts had created ghosts and spectres galore, but in the aftermath, they had all found their peace and moved on.

“Georgie?” A voice calls and George promptly freezes, his hand falling from your grip as he trips up on thin air.

“George?” You murmur, puzzled at his sudden stop.

He can feel the colour drain from his face; feel the unwelcome churning of his gut as memory after memory washes over him. That voice… he hasn’t heard that voice in years.

“George… it’s me,” The voice calls out once more; it sounding stronger now, surer of itself.

Steeling his nerves and his heart, George turns in the direction of the spectral call.

He meets a face identical to his, but not. He meets a face that has not aged, has not hurt, has not cried in years. He meets a face entirely youthful and at peace.

George meets the face of his twin brother, Fred.

“Fred?” George whispers, voice breaking from sheer disbelief. In that one word alone, you can hear the years of grief and upset. You can feel the tears that will surely fall later tonight; you can see the pain written across George’s face.

Fred smiles: it’s as watery as you can get for a spectral vision, but it’s there. “It’s me, Georgie,” He reassures, “I promise.”

“It’s been so long,” George states needlessly. “So long,” He repeats as if counting the days of absences for his brother, noting each second, minute and hour that he has been without his twin.

“Who’s looking after the shop?” Fred asks, changing subject, dragging his brother away from the dark path he once wandered alone.

“Ron,” George answers, “He has some help from Harry on the weekends when it gets busier, but Ron is managing a lot. I think Bill is wanting to help out more too.”

“That’s good,” Fred nods. “You seem to fit in well, Professor Weasley,” Fred comments, gesturing to the robes now adorning his brother’s frame.

George laughs, his hand reaching for yours once more as you remain silent through the whole exchange, “Who would have thought it?”

“Not me,” Fred snorts, laughing at George’s bark of protest. All too quickly, Fred’s eyes are drawn to you, standing by George’s side, hand clasped in his ever so tightly. Your heartbeat quickens at seeing the stark youth on Fred’s face.

“It’s been too long, (Y/N),” Fred greets.

“How are you, Fred?”

“Better now that I know he isn’t alone.”

“You were watching?” George asks, tone aghast.

Fred gives his twin a look that coveys not only his brother’s stupidity but also the overwhelming brotherly love Fred has for his twin. “Of course I was. That’s how I knew I could come to you now. You aren’t alone, you’re managing.”

“I haven’t been alone for three years,” George points out as if would make an ounce of difference to Fred’s reasoning for showing up tonight.

Fred rolls his eyes. “I know that, but you weren’t ready. I could have appeared months ago but chose not to. I wanted you to be okay after I go again.”

George’s hand tighten around yours; his knuckles whitening as Fred’s words sink in. “You’re not a regular ghost of the castle are you? Not like Nick or Peeves?”

Fred shakes his head. “I have to go back,” He says, gesturing behind him as if the place in which he now belongs is right there within reach, “But I wanted to see you, so I got my wish.”

“I got mine too,” George says so quietly you wonder whether you’ve misheard him.

“You look old,” Fred laughs, defusing the tension that threatens to boil over any moment.

George snorts, speaking without thinking, “That’s what life will do to you.”

George immediately freezes as the words leave his mouth. He meets Fred’s gaze, a thousand apologues ready and willing to fall from his lips as rain would fall from the sky. Sorrow is written in every premature line, and in every blink of his eyes, but George doesn’t get to speak the words

“I know,” Fred replies. The both of them more than aware that those two words cover more than the apology left unsaid just now by George. They cover years of repenting on George’s behalf; for not being there, for not saying goodbye, for not protecting his brother.

“Will you do me a favour?” Fred asks, drawing his brother back from the depths of his mind and his grief.

“Anything.”

“Tell Mum, I’m okay? I know she worries, and I know she misses me. I just… I need her to know that I’m okay and I’m looked after.”

“I’ll floo home this weekend and tell her,” George promises; conviction and determination weighing down his voice.

“I have to go,” Fred comments, sadness in his tone as he glances back behind him, as if hearing a call only audible to his ears alone.

“I miss you,” George whispers as Fred fades away.

His twin brother pauses, lifting a hand to him, “I’m always with you, George.”

Those are his final words before he fades away back to the afterlife; the place in which he watches over every member of his family, keeping an eye on them like a determined guardian angel.

-----------

The walk to your shared room is completed in a daze. You had known Fred from your time as a student; unable to get away from the stories of his pranks, but as your relationship with George progressed, you felt as if you knew him better.

Fred’s visit was unexpected, and as your hand only wraps around George’s tighter, you can only wonder what was running through his mind.

He doesn’t speak as you push open the heavy wooden door to your rooms; doesn’t speak as you lead him to the bed. “Love,” You say gently, “We need to get ready for bed.”

George does so woodenly; still in a daze with what he’s just experienced in the corridor. You watch him with worried eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek as he pulls back the covers and slides into bed.

Tomorrow, you promise yourself. Tomorrow you would broach the subject; you would let him have tonight to work through the flurry of emotions no doubt rushing through his veins this very moment.

As your eyes grow heavy, you fist your hand into George’s thin t-shirt, reminding him that you’re here.

----------

George doesn’t sleep. He feels your breathing slow; watching the exact moment your eyes start to flutters as dreams begin. Gently he shifts in bed, sliding out from the covers and leaving you behind as he tries to work through the events of the evening.

He wanders out to the small living area; big enough to fit a couch and a table that is used more for marking than it is for eating. George slumps down onto the couch; running a hand down his face and waiting for the inevitable tears to start flowing down his face.

At the same time, he feels such sorrow and such relief. For years now, George has carried the weight of his guilt surrounding Fred’s death on his shoulders. On his more dramatic days, George would compare it to the weight Atlas feels when holding the Earth. George has carried this burden for so long, and in a ten minute conversation with the ghost of his dead twin, he has been absolved of it.

He doesn’t know the extent of what he is supposed to feel.

George stares into the permanently lit fire; questioning all he can about the events of the evening. The guilt and grief he carries for his brother is what kept him from replying to McGonagall all those years ago; it was what had him rejecting the idea altogether. Instead, after a conversation with Ron, he said yes, and so far, George had yet to regret such a decision.

After all, if he had said no, he would not have met you, and would not have fallen in love so desperately.

George thinks of you; thinks of how you stood by his side, hand holding his tightly as George spoke to his brother. You had to have questions. George had told you everything; he couldn’t keep a secret from you. This was discovered early in your relationship when George had blabbed about the presents he had got you for Christmas – way too excited to know your reaction rather than wait.

He continues to stare at the fire; mind running through memories of Fred, wondering whether McGonagall would give him next week off to go home and be there for Molly when George inevitably passes on Fred’s message.

How does he do it? How does he begin to live his life now that Fred has forgiven him?

He has carried this burden for so long; passing it you when you asked to help. For years, after his death, Fred was a massive part of his life. George has lost count of the times over the years that he has heard something hilarious and turned to share it with Fred only to find he no longer stands at his side. How George rushed home the weekend he asked you to be his partner; desperate not only to tell his mum he thinks he’s found the love of his life, but to tell Fred as well to find his mother waiting with happy tears in her eyes and no sign of Fred whatsoever.

“George,” You rasp from the bedroom door, voice heavy from disturbed sleep, “Come back to bed.”

George nods, not speaking as he climbs back into bed. Positions change immediately. Usually, it would be you who would cuddle up the redhead, wanting to wrap yourself around him and fall asleep with his scent enveloping you. Instead, it is George’s turn to hide his face in your clothed shoulder as your arm wraps around him comfortingly. His whole body shudders as a fresh wave of grief overtakes him, but you’re there for every battering and every sob.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, running a hand through his hair.

George shakes his head, calming himself down long enough to whisper, “Not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry,” You repeat, “It wasn’t as if you were expecting that tonight.”

“I wasn’t,” George admits, tears starting to slow, “I didn’t think I would see him ever again.”

“Are you glad that you have?”

George nods; his nose brushing your collarbone, “I am. I miss him just as much as I did in the beginning, but I know I’m going to come out of the other side now.”

“You do?”

“I do. I have you.”

******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @harrypotter289 @theweasleysredhair @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @probably-peeves @big-galaxy-chaos @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @awritingtree @haphazardhufflepuff @stupxfy @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank @theonly1outof-a-billion @phuvioqhile @moatsnow @storyisnotover @himooonlight @missmulti @amourtentiaa

The Weasley Twins taglist: @whizboingies @seppys-return-to-madness @hexmione @ickle-ronniekins @oh-for-merlins-sake @somekidinacoma @wand3ringr0s3

#george weasley x reader #george x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley

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