#my whole family was shocked I could handle 911 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catxsnow · 4 years

Text

UNDER THE MASK B.W.

Summary: You and Bruce were best friends your whole life until you grew apart. Seven years later, things changed when Batman shows up. Pre-Robin Batman

Warning: blood, angst, some fluff, mentions of smut at the end but it doesn’t go into detail at all. Swearing.

A/N: I’ve had this in my drafts for like three months whoops

Word count: 4.3k

You had known Bruce your whole life - literally.

With your parents being best friends, the two of you had been inseparable since you were in diapers. Growing up, he was the one person that you could always rely on and the only person that was able to make you smile when you were sad. Bruce knew more about you than you ever knew about yourself.

When his parents died, your whole family grieved alongside him. For a while, it had brought you even closer. You found yourself staying over at the Manor to watch over Bruce alongside Alfred. Nights that you would hear him crying, you would sneak in and sleep next to him. Even during school when kids would tease him you would stand up for him.

When high school rolled around, you found yourself closer than you ever had been with Bruce. One drunken mistake between the two of you and the next day it was all across the school that you were dating. For the first time in a long time, you saw him genuinely happy.

You weren't going to leave his side for anything, at least that was what you had thought.

As Bruce grew older, he also grew farther apart from you. Less evenings were spent together and soon your weekends went away too. He took over his family's company and disappeared off your radar at the same time. You were heartbroken by his absence. For years you had watched over him, now he had left you.

You had seen him all over the news. Paper headlines about what WE was planning for the future or some fancy gala that he attended with girls hanging off his arms. You couldn't help but think of the pang of hurt that ran through your chest every time you saw him with someone new. He was gone from you life and by the looks of it, he wasn't coming back.

There were the rare times that you would run into Alfred. He had raised you nearly as much as he had raised Bruce by the amount of time that you spent together. You always asked how Bruce was and it seemed to be the same answer every time: he's good, working hard at WE, keeps to himself half the time.

You had lost hope that you would ever get to be close to him again. Maybe you had lost hope when he had broken up with you after high school. Maybe, you out grew him and his life. The reality of it all, was that you had just given up.

If Bruce wanted to be a part of your life, he would have made the effort in the past seven years. Instead, he sat at the top of his Wayne Tower without a single thought of you. Why bother missing someone when they never missed you?

Just like any other night in Gotham, it was cold. You sat in your apartment with your blanket wrapped around you and a hot mug in your hand. Some movie played but it was more background noise than anything. Over the years, you had gained the bad habit of zoning out when you were alone. This happened to be one of those times.

Memories of you and Bruce as kids running around the Wayne Manor. The two of you getting in trouble with his parents and eventually Alfred. Apart, you were both well-behaved children, together, you were hooligans. No matter how many times you had gotten lectures, you would never stop your games.

You missed those times. Free of responsibilities, free of pain, free to do anything you wanted. Those days were long gone, and no amount of wishing would get them back.

A loud thud had brought you out of your daze. You nearly screamed at the sight of your window and if you weren't there to see it yourself, you wouldn't have believed it to be true. A dark figure hovered on your fire escape right outside your window. This was Gotham, you were terrified at first.

It wasn't until the figure turned his head that you realized it was Batman himself. You had heard the rumors of him in the city and what he did at night. You wouldn't have believed them either if you didn't have a run in with him.

It was several months back. You had worked late that night and the walk to your car had apparently been too late to go by yourself. It wasn't even half way there when some creep tried to grab hold of you and do god knows what. If it wasn't for Batman popping in and beating the ever living hell out of him, you weren't sure what was going to happen.

As far as you were aware, his intentions were good, but his methods terrified you. He showed no mercy against that man and you had been unnerved by him ever since. You were thankful for him that night, but you hoped to never run into him again.

Now, he was standing at your window looking like he was about to pass out and smearing blood all over the glass. You didn't know why he was there, or if it was just coincidence that it happened to be yours. It couldn't be, you were five stories up and if he was desperate enough, he wouldn't have gone to yours.

So, here you were debating whether or not to let him in to your home to see what the hell was wrong with him and what he wanted. For some damned reason, you had gone against your gut and unlocked your window for him to crawl in. Batman nearly collapsed against the ground, his hand against his side.

"(Y/N)..." he mumbled out. You didn't know how he knew your name, but that wasn't your worry at the moment. A gash as long as your forearm tore through his skin. He should have been at a hospital, but you suppose that wasn't really an option for him.

"Holy fuck," you breathed out. His eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness until finally resting. If it wasn't for the faint rise and fall of his chest, you were sure that he would have been dead. You scrambled to your pathetic excuse of a first aid kit and went to work on his wound.

With the blood wiped away, you could see that the gash wasn't particularly deep. He had lost enough blood to concern you though and if he lost any more you were sure you were going to have to call an ambulance.

You drenched the wound with alcohol but you couldn't bandage it unless his suit came off. Instead, you settled on cutting away the weakened material and placing long bandage on as best as you could. It wasn't near perfect, but at least he wasn't going to die in your living room anymore.

As the adrenaline started to wear off, you realized just what kind of mess you were in. The great Batman was passed out on your floor by god knows who and you had no idea why. You paced around your living room, blood staining your hands and your heart racing a mile a minute. This was by far insane.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered to yourself. What was going to happen when he woke up? If he woke up? What if he died and you had to explain to the cops why Batman was dead in your home? That wasn't something that you could handle. However, you knew that if he had risked his well-being to show up at some random person's apartment instead of the cops, then you knew you couldn't call 911.

The curiosity of who was behind the mask was eating you alive. You couldn't fathom who was idiotic enough to try and fight crime in Gotham in a suit based on an animal. He was out cold, there was no way that he would know if you took one little peak under to see who it was.

With a sigh, you went against your desires. Instead, you grabbed one of the pillows on your couch and tucked it under his head. The nervous twitch in your limbs wouldn't go away and you were sure that it would never go away while he was here. With high hopes, you drew your blanket around yourself and took your place on the couch once more.

Not once did you eyes live the unconscious body on your floor. Blood was no longer dripping from his wound but it was still smeared across your floor. This was the last thing that you expected to happen that night.

It was hours that you were staring at the same place. Hours of wondering if he was going to be okay and who he really was. Batman's mask was the last thing that you saw before sleep had consumed you.

You woke up the next morning with a start. Sprawled out on the couch with your blanket half on you. Memories of what happened the night before hit you like a freight train. Batman.

The man that had shown up last night was no longer on your floor. The pillow that he had was returned onto your couch and the remnants of his blood was the only proof that it wasn't some fucked up dream. You scrambled off your couch and ran around your apartment to see if he was still within it.

Thankfully, he wasn't. Instead a note was on your kitchen counter that hadn't been there the night before.

'Thank you. I owe you. -B'

Short and brief, it was still more than you were ever expecting from him. However, it wasn't the note that had gotten you shocked, it was the writing. You knew that handwriting from anywhere, you had grown up with it.

From learning how to spell and write, to passing notes in class, and for a brief moment in your life - love notes. This writing was something that you would recognize from anywhere at any time. It was Bruce's.

There was no way, Bruce couldn't be Batman. He was the owner of a multi-billion dollar company he didn't have time to dress up in a costume. Bruce was just some rich kid who slept with any woman he wanted to. Right?

There was only one way to find out - and you were going to make sure of it. You knew your way to the Manor like the back of your hand. Your parents had driven you there hundreds of times and Alfred even more. You knew the ins and outs of that place more than anyone. It had been your home for a long time too.

However, driving up to the gates filled your heart with terror. It had been seven long years since you had been here and you didn't know if you were ever welcomed back. Not to mention that if your theory was wrong, you would look like nothing but a deranged fool trying to get back into Bruce's life.

It was worth the risk, it had to be. When you were kids, you always made fun of how Bruce would write his ‘B’. It drove him crazy but he refused to ever change it - it was exactly like how his father wrote it. Elegant and flawless.

The gates opened wide before you could even put your car in park to get access. The closer your drove up, the more you got nervous. Seven years without seeing Bruce, far too long for someone you thought was going to be in your life forever. You didn't even know what you wanted to say to him or where to even start.

The door to his home was surprisingly unlocked. You were sure that this must have been Alfred's doing, as well as being the one to let you in. He didn't appear at the front door like he used to upon your arrival. Then again, maybe he just didn't want to get between you and Bruce.

The Manor hadn't changed much since you had been there last. In fact, it didn't look like it changed at all. The study still looked the same. Shelves of books lining the wall and a sturdy wooden desk in the middle. That was always one of your favourite places to be.

You continued your journey, each room bringing back memories that you had completely forgotten about. Times that you and Bruce ran around, nearly destroying everything in your path. Others where the two of you would try and sneak up on Alfred. You felt a sense of longing the farther you went through his home.

It wasn't until you reached Bruce's room did you finally stop. His door was closed and you weren't sure what was going to be waiting for you on the other side of it. You did know, that if you stayed out there for any longer you would have turned right back around and pretended as if this never happened.

So, without even knocking, you had flung his door open. Bruce was buttoning up his shirt of the day. He looked surprised to see you there. Not that you could blame him, it had been close to a decade since you last spoke.

"(Y/N)," Bruce's face lit up. He finished tucking in his shirt as he stalked across the room towards you. "What are you doing here?" Bruce lifted his arms up as if he was going to hug you but you had stepped back. Confusion filled his eyes and he lowered himself back down.

"You have a lot of fucking explaining to do, Bruce Wayne," you snapped. A fire filled your eyes but Bruce had acted as if he was confused. "Showing up to my apartment last night half fucking dead in a bat suit? Are you fucking insane?"

"What are you talking about?" Bruce asked. "I was here last night, ask Alfred." You rolled your eyes at his life and fished the note out of your pocket.

"I know your hand writing, Bruce." You shoved the paper in his face until he grabbed it from your hold. "It might have been a long time since I've seen you last but you still haven't learned how to lie to me."

"(Y/N)," Bruce kept calm. "This is ridiculous, do you honestly think that -" You had cut him off with an attempt to jab at where the wound have been from the night before. Just as your fingers grazed the material of his shirt, he had caught your wrist. Darkness filled his eyes like you had never seen before.

"Take off your shirt."

"I didn't realize that we were going to get so close so quickly again," Bruce tried to joke, but you could hear the strain in his voice. You had too much frustration in you to try and listen to him change your mind.

"Now, Bruce!" You raised your voice. Bruce dropped your wrist and hung his head low. He should have never gone to your apartment last night. However, he was on the street below fighting a gang of men that had him far too out numbered. He knew exactly where your home was, it was the closest place for him to go.

Reluctantly, Bruce did as he was told. It was agonizingly slow as he undid the buttons of his shirt and pull of the material. Just as you expected, a long bandage covered his torso, right where you had patched Batman up the night before. It was changed, this time done much neater than yours.

You jaw was tight as you looked at his scarred skin. With a huff of air, you had stormed out of his room and towards the front door. This had been exactly what you were expecting and yet the truth seemed to sting a wound that you hadn't felt in a long time. Betrayal.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Bruce called out for you. He latched onto your wrist once more and stopped your movements.

"Seven years Bruce! You dropped out of my life seven years ago and never tried to see me again! Do you know how much that fucking hurt me? We had been best friends my entire life and you just fucked off without so much as a reason why! I was so lost without you, I was alone!" You felt tears well up in your eyes.

"You don't get to come to my apartment needing my help and then pretend like it wasn't you under that mask!" You ripped your hand out of his hold. "Fuck you Bruce. Fuck you for leaving me. Fuck you for making me wonder what went wrong for so many years. Fuck you for breaking my heart!"

Your voice finally cracked and the tears spilled down your face. Bruce could feel the grief rolling off you. He knew what it was like to be consumed by the pains of your past and he never realized how badly he had hurt you. Leaving you was the only way to keep you safe while he was on this journey to become someone else.

Bruce pulled you into his chest. Sobs racked through your entire body as he held you close, just like when you were younger. One of his hands rested on the back of your head, keeping you as close to his heart as he could.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered to you. You would understand why he did what he did one day. Once this pain was gone from you, you would be able to see that he did it to keep you safe. He never wanted to hurt you, of course he didn't. Bruce loved you his whole life, that was never going to change.

Heart-wrenching sobs echoed through the manor. It broke Bruce to see you like this, to know that he was the one to cause you this pain. He was different now, but his place for you in his heart was just the same as it always was. No matter how cold he got, you were always able to bring the brightness out within him.

"I didn't want you to see me change into the person I am now," Bruce tried to explain to you. Your cries had quieted but the tears continued to flow. "I'm not the same person that I once was. I just... I couldn't drag you through that. I didn't want to. You were the only good thing out of my life and I couldn't bare the thought of tainting you with this... darkness in me."

You pulled away from him and wiped the tears from your cheeks. "Just because you dress up as a Bat at night didn’t mean I didn't want you in my life," you shook your head at his ridiculous train of thought. There was still anger in your voice. "I've known you forever. Don't you think I didn't know that you changed the second your parents died? You've been wearing a mask for a long time before you decided to change it to this one."

"I'm sorry," Bruce averted his gaze. Guilt that he hadn't felt in years consumed him. He always told himself that keeping you away was for the best. It was the only way to protect you and keep you safe against the crime he went against.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it this time, Bruce," your hands drew into fists. "How the hell did you think I wasn't going to want to be part of this? You never even asked me! You needed me then more than ever! Now more than ever! And you choose to be a selfish asshole instead. You never thought about anyone but yourself."

"I did this to protect you," Bruce tried to argue. He should have known that you wouldn't understand why he did what he did. After all these years, you were right - sorry wasn't going to cut it. He felt terrible for just leaving you, it was the biggest mistake that he had ever made.

"Protect me?" You raised your voice even more. "Nothing could ever hurt me as much as you leaving my life. If you wanted to protect me, you wouldn't have left. It's been seven years since I've seen you, seven years of trying to forget about you.

"I loved you, Bruce, more than anyone. You ruined that the second that you walked out my door for the last time," You scoffed, turning away from him. Your throat felt constricted and tears burned your eyes. Bruce leaving you was the biggest heartbreak you had to endure. No man ever proved to be better than him, you couldn't move on.

"(Y/N)," Bruce's voice went soft. He reached out to grab your shaking hand. To both of your surprises, you let him. His hands were calloused after the years of hard work he had gone through. You felt small in his grip, just like the child that you were when you were his best friend.

"I should have never assumed that you wouldn't want to be part of this life," Bruce went on. You finally turned back to face him again. "I wanted to keep you safe and that was the only way that I knew how at the time. You're one of the only people left that I truly care about and I couldn't bare the thought of losing you."

"I've been with you since birth, Bruce. Don't you think I want to be with you until death as well?" You held hope in your eyes that he would take you back. After all this time, all the anger and frustration that you had at him, it seemed to wash away the second that you looked into his beautiful blues.

Bruce Wayne was a stubborn, arrogant, asshole. He had been for a long time, but you knew that he was still one of the most caring people in the world, even if he didn't show it. Deep down, as much as you didn't want to believe him, you knew that what he did was to keep you safe.

He was a genius man, both in business and in life. He knew how the world worked and fought against it to make it right again. You respected him, even when you were mad at him. Bruce had a way of getting the world to love him, even if it was never the real him that he showed. You were the only person that knew the real him - besides Alfred.

"(Y/N)," Bruce dragged his hands up your arms until resting them at the base of your neck. Though he looked older, more muscular since the last time that you had seen him - he was still the same man you loved. Without another word, Bruce tilted down to meet you lips. It had been years since you had kissed him, yet it only felt like yesterday.

Without breaking your kiss, he led you back into his bed room, slamming the door on the way. You didn't have intentions of this happening - none at all. You came here to get mad at Bruce, finally have so long awaited answered, and leave with a weight off your chest that you had been carrying around for years.

Sleeping with him was not on your agenda.

Bruce was a player, he knew how to get his way. It didn't take him long to master the art of distracting women and avoiding an unwanted conversation. He had managed to do it to you lots when you were dating in high school and by the looks of it, he still had a hold over you. Bruce knew how to get to your heart, and your pants.

Moans of pleasure cascaded through his room. The years apart had left you more experienced and god did it show. Bruce had gave you more pleasure than any other man in your life ever could. He still knew you better than anyone - in nearly every way possible.

"Fuck," you breathed out. A layer of sweat covered your bodies as you laid against his sheets. Heavy breathing filled the room and you were still soaking up the orgasm that he had given you. "That shouldn't have happened. I'm still furious at you."

"I know," Bruce kept his voice tight. The wound that he had gotten the prior night was flaring up with pain but it had been worth it to be with you again. "I know that nothing I do will change the past... but I'm giving you the choice now. All I want is for you to be back in my life, but once you're in, there's no going back.

"This new life I have is dangerous, you need to know that. But if you're willing, I'd love to have you be a part of it," Bruce asked. He wanted you back, he always wanted to crawl back to you and beg for forgiveness. The better part of him always stopped himself.

"Why did you come to my apartment last night?" You changed the subject. "Why not back here? Or a hospital, or anywhere else?"

"Because I knew I could trust you no to reveal who I really was."

"Then why leave the note?" You barged on. There were so many questions that you had for him, but these two were the ones that were bothering you the most. He was smart enough to have known that you could have figured it out. Batman was far too cautious to be so stupid to leave a note for a stranger.

"Because I was hoping you would figure out that it was me all on your own," Bruce confessed. He had one arm rested under his head and the other resting on his chest. He didn't look at you, too afraid to see what your reaction was going to be with his words. "And you did."

"I'll join you, Bruce. You can't shut me out again, I can't handle another heartbreak like that," You decided. Being back with Bruce, even for this short time had filled the emptiness in your chest that had been void for years. He was the missing piece in your life, and as much as you knew it, you tried to fill it with anything else.

"I promise."

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne one shot #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam one shot #batman #batman imagine #batman oneshot #batman x reader #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #fluff #angst #catxsnow writes

339 notes · View notes

chloroformthelittleb4stard · 3 years

Text

Family Relations - Part 1

I got some loose inspiration from @were-cheetah-stiles's "The College Years" so if you haven't read that then I highly suggest it! It's very good.

Stiles Stilinski/Witch!Reader with some OFC characteristics thrown in for spice

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

Warnings: Mentions of choking, character injury, implied death of a minor character, EMTs and stitches and such, swearing

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

Your hand is aching from the cramps of writing so many notes, your professor going a mile a minute, but making very little sense. You doodle in the margins of your college-ruled journal and stare into space, zoning out and giving up on following your professor's nonsense.

The clock ticked 5 minutes until class was over when your professor went apeshit. He stopped talking all of a sudden, standing straight as a board and looking off into the distance. He started slowly walking up through the students, eyeing each of them as he went by until he got to the row in front of you. He moved down the line until he stopped on a strawberry blonde girl, three seats to your left in the row in front of you. His hands slowly wrapped around her throat and that's when people started screaming.

People tried to pull him off of her but it was like he was glued to her skin, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. The next tactic that people chose was to flee, they tried running out the doors but they came to see that the doors were in fact stuck and shaking on their hinges, the rattling echoing through the lecture hall. Your attention kept being drawn to a brunette, maybe 5"10 with moles scattered around his skin and eyes the color of amber.

The brunette stood, panicking for a moment like everyone else, but then sprung into action. Launching forwards he grabbed a chair and swung it towards the professor, the item stunning the man but not making him drop his grip. Your professor's attention then turned to him, eyes locking as you saw the man with moles' expression turn fearful. He ran back down to the front of the classroom and the professor followed him, eyes still glazed but now glowing with a green tint.

The man seemed to be struggling in the fight against your professor and since no one else seemed ready to help, you realized you were your classmates' last hope. You didn't want to use it but there wasn't much other choice, you focused your energy and watched as the light fixture above your professor began to swing and crack, sparks of electricity coming from where it meet the ceiling, before it came down in a large crash on top of your professor. You'd forgotten however to push your cute classmate out of the way, and you ran forwards to go check on him while the rest of your class pushed and shoved to get through the doors that were magically opened again now that the would-be murderer was down.

Walking over to the front of the room you saw your brave classmate staring at the ceiling in shock while he was clearly still processing the entire situation.

"You ok there?" Your voice echoed in the now empty room, Stiles' attention coming to rest on you. As he gaped for a moment, his mouth moving with no words, before he managed to regain some confidence.

"I uh, yeah. I mean no! Later! I-" You chuckled as he stuttered, mind moving faster than his mouth could handle and the flitting though of how glad you were that it was this boy's life that you'd saved.

"I'm not ok now but I will be later." He managed to finally articulate. Words falling out of his mouth as he continued to take in your appearance. He had no idea how he'd missed you before but damn had he been missing out. Your legs peaked out from the bottom of your jeans that you'd cuffed, socks with the words 'fuck off' printed on them peaked out from above your worn sneakers, much like his own.

"You really like Star Trek?" He questioned, pointing to your t-shirt. You laughed out loud at that being the first question he asked you, not something to do with your suddenly murderous professor or the seemingly random event of a light fixture falling from the ceiling.

"Yeah, why? You a Star Wars fan or something?" He puffed his chest out as much as he could from his position still sitting on the ground.

"And proud of it." He placed his hands on his hips and beamed as you walked closer to give him help getting up. He limped when he stood, something you noticed immediately and frowned upon realization.

"Did the light falling down injure you?" Your eyes were filled with concern for the man you'd just met, coming to scan his injured leg as he stood in front of you.

"Me? No I'm fine!" He winced as he took a step forward and you rushed to his side to help support him.

"Ok, so I might be a little bit hurt." He smiled shyly at you through his dark lashes, his tongue poking out to lick at his lips while he stared at you.

"Here sit down and I'll take a look." He hobbled over to the nearest chair upon your request, muscles relaxing as he took the pressure off his injured limb. You pulled his jeans up just slightly, exposing the ankle that had a shard of glass stuck in it. Maybe pulling down a lighting fixture wasn't your best idea. You hissed at the sight of the injury causing Stiles to glance down at his ankle, hissing as well at the sight of the glass sticking out from his skin.

"I'm sure someone called 911, an EMT should be here soon." You rolled his jeans back down to cover his injury, already hearing the faint sounds of sirens on campus.

"I'm never going to live this down." He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. You giggled at the sight and he cracked a smile despite his pain from his pride in making you laugh.

"An FBI agent in training who gets hurt by a light. I'll be a laughing stock." He was over-selling his complaints, he knew he was most likely to receive praise for his actions rather than ridicule, but he liked how you laughed at his dramatics.

"Well..." You paused, realizing that despite being in class with him all year you didn't know the cute stranger's name.

"Stiles." He filled it in for you, smiling again as he held his hand out to shake yours.

"Well Stiles, I think you're a hero. At the very least you're not a coward." You shared a laugh as the sirens got closer and the police and EMT came through the door, interrupting your moment to get to know Stiles more.

The EMT had determined that he'd need to go to a hospital, and having nothing better to do, and wanting to get to know him more, you asked if you could go with.

"Sure, I still need to learn your name." You blushed at the awkward wink he sent you while on the stretcher, being lifted onto the cot that sat in the middle of the vehicle.

You and Stiles made small talk during the trip between his vitals getting checked and the EMT disinfecting his, now stinging, wound. You reached your hand down absentmindedly when Stiles first winced at the disinfectant, and he grabbed it without a second though, squeezing tightly as more anti-bacterials were added to the open wound.

At the hospital he'd had stitches, and you both watched as they removed the small shard of glass from his skin. You'd helped quietly by pushing the glass in the direction of the doctor's hand but Stiles didn't need to know that. After the stitches and a total of three hours later Stiles was discharged and on his way back to campus with you on his arm. He'd had crutches, a precaution, and despite your suggestions he threw them in the trunk of the Uber you'd called and didn't use them at all while walking back to his dorm.

"Well here we are. Room 15, thanks for walking me to my dorm, and for going to the hospital with me, and everything else. Despite the almost-murderer professor, today didn't actually suck that much." You laughed at his statement and waved him goodbye as he limped into his dorm room to an only minutely concerned Scott.

"Who was that?" Scott asked in a sing-song voice as he took the crutches from Stiles' hand without complaint.

"That, was my guardian angel." He slumped along the door, coming to sit on the floor in a haze of your memory.

"Does your guardian angel have a name?" He heard is werewolf friend ask while digging through Stiles' wardrobe for shorts that wouldn't brush against his stitches.

"Her name is Y/n and she was with me at the hospital the whole time. Scott she's awesome, you have to meet her." He stood up gently, stumbling over to his bed to change from his blue jeans to the basketball shorts that Scott had pulled out for him, per doctor's request.

Scott rolled his eyes at his best friend's romantic nature, knowing it was probably just being there for him in a crisis that made you so attractive to Stiles. Scott didn't get a look at you, meaning he had only the basis of what Stiles' personal preferences were for figuring out what you looked like. He assumed you looked similar to a familiar ginger that had broken up with Stiles not long ago, he was wrong.

#Family Relations #Family Relations part 1 #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #Stiles Stilinski/reader #Stiles Stilinski/Witch!Reader #Teen Wolf #choking mention #major character injury #implied death #EMT mention #Ambulance mention #stitches tw #ambulance tw #crutches

32 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Kismet {5}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation

Words: 4.5k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

-Aliya-

By the time you left the restaurant, it was midnight. Henry opened the door for you to walk through, finishing up a childhood story.

“And that is why my brother refuses to sleep in the guesthouse anymore,” he finished.

You released a loud laugh, throwing your head back. “Wow. So the guesthouse is haunted.”

“He sure thinks so,” Henry said with a smile.

“A lot of outsiders think everywhere in Ireland is haunted,” you informed.

“Same with outsiders and Scotland.”

“Funny.”

“How often do you go to Ireland?”

“I try at least once a year. Whenever I have an album that comes out, I either go there or Australia to unplug from the world,” you explained as you leaned on the window of the restaurant, facing him.

“Why?”

“Releasing an album is weird. It’s all so personal, and keeping track of it’s standing is nerve-wracking. I like to go away, ignore my phone, and just chill for a few days.”

“That’s an interesting strategy.”

Silence fell between you, a comfortable one.

“Feels like a nice night. Can I take you somewhere?”

“Depends. Where is this somewhere?”

“You’re going to have to trust me.”

With the mention of the T-word, you sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know you,” you piped up.

Henry took a step closer to you, leaving only a few inches between you. “Get to know me.”

“Isn’t that what I’m going?” He smiled again and bit his bottom lip. Your eyes dropped to them and stayed there.

“Is it? Kinda feels like you’re searching for reasons,” he whispered.

“Reasons for what?”

He was so close. All you had to do was tip onto your toes, and your lips would touch. He studied you, but you had no idea what he was thinking. You watched him lick his lips and quickly got lost in how he did it.

“Can I take you somewhere?”

His voice was so deep, so husky that your belly quivered.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Henry’s eyes dropped to your lips as he spoke. “You’ll like it, don’t worry.” Then he backed away, allowing the air around you to cool.

“I bet I will,” you whispered, but he heard it and chuckled.

“Where’d you park?”

“I didn’t drive tonight.”

“Chauffeured?”

“The only way for a lady to travel,” you joked with a small curtsy.

“Are you all right taking my car then?”

“I’ve been taught not to get in the car of anyone whose character I’m unsure of. They could kill me or rape me.

Henry scoffed then laughed into the night air.

“Well, you’ve been taught correctly.”

“Ah, see.”

Again he leaned closer to you. “Luckily, I’m not interested in killing or raping you.”

“Oh no? then what are you interested in when it comes to me?”

The way he stared at you had you feeling a way you’d never felt before. It was something you couldn’t put your finger on, something you didn’t quite understand.

“All shall reveal itself in due time,” Henry whispered.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “Spoken like a true brit.”

Henry shrugged and led you to his car, which was parked across the lot. As you got closer, your jaw dropped.

“Wow. A Porsche 911 GT1 Turbo?”

“You know cars?”

“Are you kidding? This baby is one sexy beast. 3.8L 6-cylinder engine, zero to sixty in just over three seconds, top speed at two hundred and five miles per hour which was dethroned as the fastest when the Spyder came around,” you boasted.

Henry’s mouth was wide as he gaped at you.

“I think that is the sexiest thing a woman has ever said to me.”

The two of you laughed together as he opened the passenger door for you to slide in. You marveled at the interior beginning at the stunning dash and the stick shift and ending on the smooth expensive leather finish. It was a gorgeous car.

“This is so gorgeous. Wow.” You looked at him, and he still looked shocked. “Did I freak you out now?”

“No, far from it,” Henry answered as he turned on the engine, which excited you more than it should have.

“Hold on, I like to go fast,” he warned, staring into your eyes. That was an innuendo if you’d ever heard one, and it did the trick to set your nether regions on fire.

As he drove, you paid close attention to how he handled the wheel and commanded the car to do as he wished. It was sexy how he switched lanes and easily handled LA traffic. After barely ten minutes of driving, your legs were crossed and clenched tightly with your hand squeezing your knee, begging it to remain closed.

When Henry turned off the engine, you saw he’d pulled up to the beach.

“The beach.”

“Not just the beach. Let me show you.”

He was the first to get out and come around for you. When he opened the door, he held his hand out for you to take. When you stepped out, you looked around expecting to see a carnival or something extraordinary. All you saw was an empty parking lot and an abandoned beach.

“Ready?

“Where are we going?”

Henry pointed out to the sand, and that was when our eyes widened.

“Oh, I’m not really wearing the right shoes.”

“So it would seem.”

You leaned on the side of his car only to bolt upright again. “I mean no disrespect putting my ass on your car.”

Henry snorted. “It’s the most action it’s seen.”

You giggled, something you’d been doing a lot of since meeting him.

“Can you?” You held your clutch out to him, silently asking if he could hold it. When he took it, you bent down and unzipped the back of your heels, taking them off one at a time. When you stood again, you were several inches shorter than you were before.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you exasperated.

“You’re short. Aww, it’s so cute,” Henry teased.

“Stop.”

“It’s adorable and sprite-like,” he continued.

You tried to stifle your laugh but couldn’t. “It’s not my fault you’re freakishly tall.”

“I’m a freak now?”

“You’re really tall. How tall?”

“Six-one-ish, more six-two.”

“Wow. That is a whole twelve inches more than me.”

“I bet it’s not hard for most people to be taller than you,” he teased some more.

You gasped, pressing your hand to your chest. “Wow, you have jokes.”

His smile was adorkable, and you loved it. “Would you like to leave them behind?”

You nodded, and Henry opened the car and placed them on the floor of the passenger side. “Never knew how women could stand to walk in these things.”

“It’s a craft,” you responded. He held up your clutch nonverbally asking if you wanted to leave it as well. With your nod, he put it on the seat, then shut and locked the door again.

“Cold?”

“I’ll be okay.”

As if not liking the answer, he slipped off his blazer and draped it over your shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“Ready?”

You nodded and followed him to the rope to the beach. The two of you stepped over it and followed the path as it led toward the rocks of the beach.

“Rock climbing too? Goody.”

“If you’re from Australia, I’m sure you’ve done some climbing on rocks,” Henry teased.

You shrugged, “A bit.”

Henry’s smile showed off his perfectly imperfect teeth. You loved that he looked so put together and perfect in theory, but once you took a closer look, he really wasn’t. The two of you continued climbing the rocky peaks. Every move you made, Henry’s hand was there to help you along the way. The perfect gentleman, you thought. You could tell by the way he moved that he was used to strenuous physical activity. With the thought of strenuous activities, your head immediately dropped to his crotch. As soon as your eyes dipped, you brought them back up to find Henry’s eyes on yours. You’d been caught. He didn’t speak though. He just kept the soft smile on his lips.

You watched him take a giant step up one of the boulders and marveled at how strong his legs looked. When he turned, he held his hand out to you. Without hesitating, you took it, and your knees nearly buckled when he effortlessly pulled you up to stand beside him. You knew what you expected, especially seeing how colossal his biceps were through his suit jacket, but when he really demonstrated that strength, it boggled your mind. He was strong, strong.

“Down we go,” Henry said before he jumped down to the sand behind the boulder. You stood there, staring down at him like he was insane. This was not what you had in mind when you agreed to dinner.

“Are you sure you don’t want to kill me? This looks like the perfect place to hide a body.”

Henry lifted his hands into the air in surrender and spoke with that sly, adorable grin. “I promise.” He held out his hands, indicating he intended to lift you down.

You scoffed, looked around, and sighed, deciding to just go with it. As he slowly lifted you down, you didn’t know whether to stare into his impossibly deep eyes or at his bulging biceps. They were both equally appealing options. When he lowered you to the sand, your bodies were close but not touching. The urge to step into him overwhelmed you, especially the longer his hands lingered on your waist. The look on Henry’s face was one you couldn’t decipher. He looked as if he were in deep thought, but he also looked like he was conflicted over something.

“Eh-em, thank you,” you stuttered, taking a step back from him.

“Right this way.”

Henry walked ahead toward a cave. The black woman in you stopped and watched in caution. He wanted you to follow him this late at night, into a dark cave on a part of the beach no one seemed to know about. Henry glanced back at you, and warmly smiled. It was good enough for one part of you, and that was the part that controlled your legs. As you walked inside, your jaw dropped seeing it was lite up. All around the cave walls and ceiling, there were lights similar to Christmas tree lights. In the center of the cave, there was an opening that showed the perfect glowing moon. It was breathtaking.

“Wow.”

You aimlessly wandered around the cave looking closely at the walls; being unable to not touch, you grazed your fingers along the walls taking in every little detail.

“How did you find this place?”

“When I’m in town, I like to keep my normal routine, so I jog. I prefer the beach; it reminds me of Jersey early in the morning with the fog rolling . I like to be down this side of the beach because there are not really a lot of people, so no one recognizes me. I found it one day, and ever since, I’ve been coming whenever I am in town.”

“This is beautiful,” you continued to marvel.

“It is.”

You walked toward the center of the cave and gazed up at the moon. “Especially the moon shining down. That’s probably my favorite part.”

“Mine too.” His words had you looking to him. Meeting his eyes, the two of you stared at each other for several moments.

“So, you’re a jogger.”

“I am.”

“Which means you don’t do the gym?”

You began wandering around the cave again.

“I do. I have a personal trainer who helps me stay in Superman and Witcher shape,” Henry confirmed as he also began wandering around the cave in the opposite direction that you were.

The two of you were now circling each other in a completely non-threatening way, but though it wasn’t threatening, the tension around you increased with every step the two of you took.

“Do you work out?”

“I do. Not a lot or a crazy amount, though.”

Henry passed you, and you could feel his eyes on you. “Guess it’s natural.”

That was all it took for goosebumps to break out all across your skin and butterflies to flutter in your belly. The man was effortlessly charming. You walked toward a small puddle of water, stepped into it, and began swirling it around with your feet. You desperately needed something to channel your anxious energy into.

“So living in Jersey must mean you like the beach.”

Henry nodded, “I do. When I go home, I go a lot.”

“I like the beach too. It might be because I grew up near water, but whatever reason it calms me.”

When you looked back to him, he was already staring at you. The more he stared, the more you swirled the water around. He made you nervous, but it wasn’t a bad nervous where you were worried about his next move. It was more nervousness from anxiety of his effect on you. with your eyes turned downward, you could still feel his eyes on you.

“What? Why are you staring at me?”

Though you didn’t hear his footsteps, you felt the distance between you closing. Swallowing the butterflies that were increasing their flight, you looked to him and watched him approach. He looked like Mr. Darcy did when he was crossing the open field at dawn, trying to make his way to Elizabeth. Your palm itched to touch.

“How can I not stare?”

Your soft gasp echoed in the cave as he closed the remaining few feet between you.

“You’re breathtaking. The moment I bumped into you, I felt something I’d never felt before. It was like I’d been shot with a taser. I’d never experienced anything like that before,” Henry spoke.

It wasn’t verbatim Jane Austen, but it was close enough. Your breathing betrayed you and gave away your anxiousness. You were quickly becoming lost in his eyes, lost in the tension of the moment.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

Henry’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and that had you licking your lips before you bit down onto your bottom one.

“I’ve never been tased before.” It was the only thing that you could think of to say.

A soft smile teased his lips, and he took yet another step to you. He was not mere inches from you. If you took a step forward, your bodies would touch, and from there, you could imagine where that would lead.

“Well, I have,” Henry began with a heart-pounding deepness in his voice. “It’s like a billion currents of electricity running through your body continuously for a long period of time. It feels as if these currents of electricity are charging your cells, enlarging them, and minimizing them over and over. You feel like you’re going to die, to be honest. It’s excruciating,” Henry finished.

The depth of his voice was having an effect and the fact that every few words he spoke, he spoke in a whisper which gave you the scent of the drink he’d had at dinner an hour ago. He was not only devastatingly handsome, charming, and sexy, but the chemistry between you was so palpable that you too felt like you could die from it alone.

“So you felt pain,” you stated.

“I did, but it was mixed with something else entirely.”

It was your turn to look at his mouth. When you did, you quickly realized it was a huge mistake. Your lips tingled. They wanted to know the feel of him. That was a first, you thought.

“What else?” It was a whisper, and it was all you could muster.

“I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it.”

Meeting his eyes, your gazes lingered. “Was it pleasure?”

Henry’s breathing mimicked yours. The quick rise and fall of his chest told you his heart might have been racing as quickly as yours.

“Was that what you felt?”

You couldn’t answer him. You really didn’t know what the answer to that question was right now. Your head was clouded, your heart racing and your hormones were bouncing around like haywire tennis balls that were just released from their containers. You felt your body drift back, but felt Henry’s arms wrap around you to hold you firmly against his body. Again, your eyes met. You saw the question in them.

“I don’t know—I don’t know what I felt,” you admitted.

Henry searched your eyes for several moments, but he didn’t release you.

“I think you do, and it was as new and different for you as it was for me.”

The urge to kiss him overcame you, and your knees nearly buckled from it. It had been years since you’d thought about anything like this apart from work. The last time you romantically kissed someone because you felt something for them rather than a lingering expectation or needed distraction was so long ago. You’d vowed to keep it that way. Not to mention you never kissed anyone on the second date. It was a rule.

You bit your bottom lip and loved that his eyes were glued to your mouth. It increased the desire you had to lay one on him and find out just how soft his lips really were. At that moment, Henry lifted his hand and slowly brushed back your hair to softly caress your cheek. You felt your nipples bead and prayed to God that he couldn’t feel them. Lowering your eyes to the sliver of exposed skin right under his collar, you used the time to try to gather your senses.

Henry nudged your face back to his with his finger underneath your chin.

“You have incredible eyes,” Henry whispered.

“Says the pot to the kettle.” His smile was genuine, and with it, you were a goner.

When he lowered his face to yours, you didn’t move. Truth be told, you wanted this, so you inched closer to his descending lips. Once you were just centimeters from each other, your senses returned. You pressed your eyes closed then placed your hands on his chest to keep him at bay. Without protest, Henry stopped.

“I don’t kiss on the first date.”

“It’s a good thing it’s our second,” Henry replied.

“I don’t kiss on the second either,” you added with your eyes still closed. It wasn’t that you were afraid of his reaction. You were desperately trying to get a grip so you could finish out the rest of this night the way you’d intended. You didn’t want to be pressed against the wall of this cave as he fucked you till you couldn’t walk back to the car. That was not what this was. That was not who you were. Not anymore.

When you did open your eyes and looked into those hypnotizing ocean blue eyes, you knew you hadn’t gotten a grip at all. You flexed your fingers against his chest and realized just how muscular he was. Dropping your eyes to his chest, your fingers continued to move of their own volition. You understood. This was all him. He was all muscle.

“Oh, crap.”

Realizing just what you were doing, you stepped away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize I was—I’m sorry.”

Henry nodded, “It’s all right. Nothing to be sorry for. I respect your boundaries.”

Your stomach fell. You turned your back to him, pretending to look more at the lit walls, but you weren’t looking at them. You’d hoped he wouldn’t have been understanding about your boundaries. It would have made it easier to leave without feeling the steady pangs of temptation.

“Do you?”

“Of course. No matter how much I want to kiss you, I respect you and your boundaries. I will not force myself on you. You can trust me on that. I give you my word,” Henry boldly avowed.

The more he spoke, the lower those said boundaries fell.

“You can trust me in that, Aliya,” he softly finished.

With those final words, what you’d said barely two minutes ago was out the window.

“Oh, screw it!”

You quickly turned and rushed to him, practically pouncing him like an in heat Puma. Henry welcomingly wrapped his arms around you and stared into your eyes. Another question rested there.

“I don’t want this if this isn’t what you want,” he assured.

“I thought you go after what you want; no questions asked,” you partly teased.

His smile prompted yours. “And you always get what you want.”

“I do,” you confirmed.

Henry smiled again before your lips touched. From the moment they did, you felt that electrical current feeling he spoke of. It was intense, exhilarating, and excruciating. Slowly Henry teased your tongue with his by coiling around it to retreat and do it again. By the third time, you’d moaned on him. His grip around your waist and back tightened, and the kiss deepened. He looked like a passionate man, but if you were going by his kiss, you’d greatly underestimated how passionate. The way he kissed you increased the pull you’d felt to him since bumping into him a few weeks ago. To your shock, you wanted more. Henry’s moan reverberated off your chest and sparked your arousal so much that your nipples pulsated, begging for his touch.

This was insanely unexpected; you thought before you slowly pulled back, an action Henry did along with you. Keeping your eyes closed, you allowed the feels to sink in and wrap around you. They were feels that were new, feels that felt had your hand shaking.

“We should go,” you whispered.

“We should,” Henry quickly agreed.

~~~~~~~~

On the drive, you tried to keep your freak out at bay. You tried to push away thoughts of rehashing just what happened in the cave. It was next to impossible because the entire drive was silent. He must have been lost in his thoughts as well. When you did think about it, you couldn’t find an ounce of regret. Oppositely you loved it and only regretted stopping. That was what tripped you up. It was insane to think about because you’d broken a rule and were in the middle of breaking yet another one as he drove you home.

Your eyes continued to glance over to his hands on the steering wheel before they dropped to his spread thighs. He had the perfect thighs for straddling. The thought of the size of them and the amount of space you’d already calculated would fit you nicely easily set you off. The man’s lap was meant to be sat on and without clothes. Thankfully before you got way too lost in your sinful thoughts, you saw Henry pulling toward your gated entrance. You pulled out your phone and entered the code to your gate on the security app. Once you did, the wrought iron gates opened for him to pull into your driveway.

Henry’s whistle brought your attention to his face.

“Wow, doing really well for yourself, I see.”

You snorted then shrugged. “I try.”

Once the car rolled to a stop, Henry tapped on the steering wheel as he stared at your house. You wondered what he was thinking and worried he thought you were bougie. After about a minute of silence, Henry unbuckled his seat belt.

“I’ll get your door,” he blurted out before he hopped out the car and walked around to the passenger side. He held his hand out for yours, which you took without hesitation.

“Thank you.”

He nodded, then the two of you walked toward your front door in silence with the flowers he brought you in hand.

“Thank you for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome.”

Once in front of the door, you both stood there staring at each other. The butterflies in your stomach still had yet to dissipate; they’d only picked up. You wondered what he was thinking to look at you the way he was. You noticed him he was rocking back and forth with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was adorable.

“Oh, I fly out tomorrow,” Henry blurted out.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’ll be gone for four weeks, and then it’s time for some much-needed downtime,” he explained.

The butterflies began to die down, but only a small amount. “Lucky you.”

He shrugged and gave an indifferent expression. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

You returned his shrug. “I had a good time. I just might steal that spot seeing that I live here.”

His laugh was boisterous and echoed over the front of your property. You liked the sound of his laugh and liked the laugh lines that decorated around his mouth and eyes even more. It showed he was a happy man.

“It’s fine as long as you don’t mind sharing it with me,” Henry countered.

You leaned on the pillar behind you and held tighter to the flowers.

“I’m not much of a sharer. I like what’s mine—mine.”

Henry smirked in a way that had those butterflies take flight yet again.

“We’ll have to work on that. Sharing is caring.”

A scoff escaped you as you shook your head. You dug your hand into your hair and gently tousled it, again thankful you’d decided to go the extra step with straightening it. When you looked back to Henry, the fire in his eyes could not be missed, and that fire sparked one in you. A few seconds later, he was closing the space between you and clasping you at the nape of your neck before his lips pressed to yours.

While the first kiss in the cave was slow, sensual, and passionate, this one was urgent, greedy, and controlling, and it set you on fire instantly. Henry’s free hand connected to your hip and gently held you, barley touching his hardened frame. When you heard him moan, you softly nibbled his bottom lip, which had him returning the favor. Good lord, you thought before you placed your hand on his chest and took advantage of his closeness. You swore you could feel his heart pounding underneath your palm, but you weren’t sure. When you moaned, Henry was the one to pull away this time, but his body was still close, tempting you with its heat and size.

When he spoke, his voice was temptingly deep. “Use those pictures so you don’t forget what I look like.”

You smiled again. He was becoming very good at it.

“Goodnight, Aliya.” You gazed into his eyes, bit your bottom lip, and nodded.

“Goodbye, Henry.”

His body broke out in a shiver that shook you due to his proximity. You couldn’t help but smirk. You watched him back away and walk to his car.

“Have a safe flight and trip.”

When he turned to look at you again once he was at his door. “Thank you.”

He got into his car and watched you. It took you a few moments to realize he was waiting for you to go inside before he pulled off. Another gentlemanly trait was ticked off on the pros side of your list that was steadily growing. When you got inside, you armed the house and leaned against the door with the flowers clutched to your chest.

“What in the holy hell are you doing, Aliya?”

You hit your head back onto the glass of the door a few times, trying to find your chill—a chill that had continuously evaded you all night.

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

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

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

TagList:

@dangerouslovefanfic @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @momobaby227 @naturalthrone22 @emjayewrites @chaneajoyyy @caramara3 @kikimiyazaki @sonjashuterbugjohnson @minton131 @aar-journey @sincerelyglowing @theonewithherheadintheclouds @shar74nett @mrsbarnes-rogers @livinglifeformemyselfandi @night-of-the-living-shred @munteanhorewrites @kittykatlow @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @simply-heaven @winchwm @maximumninjavoid @offrostandstarlight @angrybirdcr @maxcullen

@sausagefest1996 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @bellaamor88 @alyxkbrl @hello-therree @mery-be @that-chick212 @smuttywriter @ljstraightnochaser @dangerouslovefanfic @jd-now-jq @mrsbarnes-rogers @melanicia @live-laugh-love-ki @deadpixie22 @asiaaisa77 @queenshikongo3 @queenreignssupreme @queenoftheworldisdead @kittykatlow @cltex84 @helenasmirkedno @areubeingserved @petty-bitch-akira

#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x ofc #slow burn fanfic #angst fanfic

119 notes · View notes

thisselflovecamebacktome · 3 years

Text

Dancing With The Devil Parts One and Two Thoughts/Moments That Stuck Out

(I’m going to put this under a read more before it’s long, but be aware there’s going to be talk about death, sexual violence, eating disorders and drug use)

General thoughts:

So I’ve made it pretty clear that I was definitely nervous about this coming out. Any long term Demi fan knows that making these documentaries have not turned out well for Demi in the past. Likewise, I have other concerns surrounding it. In saying that, I am also not egotistical to think that I know for sure this will be different or even if it’s not, that I can change things. I also feel a little better knowing that most of what was said so far has already been spoken about in interviews rather than it all coming out at once. Either way, as always, I wish Demi nothing but the best and hope that she is currently as okay as the documentary makes it seem.

The Scrapped Documentary:

One thing that really stuck out to me as soon as it was said was the implication that her friends lied their way through the documentary that never got released. On one hand it feels like a very friend thing to do, like we’ve all been there and done it with good intentions even if it was the wrong call to make. But I definitely think that when considering that the person who called 911 felt like they had to sneak away to make the call and everyone talking about how controlled they felt by having to be careful about food and substances around Demi, there seemed to be a major push to save face and save Demi’s celebrity persona over Demi. And I mean there’s no shock about that, we all assumed Phil wasn’t just in it for Demi’s health.

But what I do find interesting is how Demi’s friend still believes that her old team meant well but was just unequip for dealing with mental issues. Once upon a time, I felt the same. Again, obviously they wanted her well for their own sake because they were making money from her, but I believed they at least wanted her well. But the melon cake revelation changed that for me. Like at that point I went from “The label clearly favoured Nick Jonas and didn’t handle things well but maybe he genuinely thought Demi couldn’t handle it” to “Demi’s team did not give the slightest fuck about her”. So I find it interesting that it didn’t for her friend and makes me wonder just how much of this saving face came from Demi herself (or what she thought she wanted) compared to her team. This is especially the case given the focus, and particularly Dallas’ words, on how she didn’t choose to be a role model but felt she had to be for her fans.

The Death Of Demi’s Father:

A little confession for you all, I almost quit watching this documentary 6 1/2 minutes into the first part. While I feel like almost everything else said in this documentary was at very least alluded to if not flat out said in interviews, this hit me over the head. I am someone who is estranged from their own father and knows that his epilepsy could cause his death at any time should a fit get that bad and that he doesn’t really have anyone who would be consistently checking in on him. So the fear of him decomposing in his flat all alone is one that is all too relatable to me. It is also relatable in terms of my mother, but at least she has my brother who wants to stay at home forever and I would call her even if I moved out, so it’s less likely. So yeah, the way Demi said it and knowing that Father’s Day passed in that time and she probably spends every Father’s Day regretting she didn’t call stings a lot and will almost definitely stay with me for a long time.

I also related to her talking about her guilt of not helping him the way she feels she’s helped other with her advocacy more than I’d like. While not drug related, I’ve spoken a few times on my blog about how I reached a point with my mother’s bipolar and need for remedies to the legal issues that worsened her health where I gave up despite still advocating for others. And she’s pointed that out. But ultimately Demi and her loved ones are right; a person needs to want help to give it to them and trying to force help doesn’t work. It didn’t for Demi’s father and it didn’t for her until she was ready.

Demi’s Drug Use:

I didn’t actually realise Sirah was Demi’s sober companion and while I didn’t really know anything about her beforehand, I think her parts were among my favourites so far. She was honest, emotional, informative and really contextualised what she was saying not only in terms of Demi but addicts as a whole.

Unfortunately one of the most relatable parts of this documentary so far was when everyone spoke about how Demi seemed normal in the weeks before her overdose. To this day, a lot of my then loved ones, whether it be family or friends, still don’t know I went to rehab in my teens. A lot of the people who do know now didn’t find out about it until years later when I was ready to talk about it. Looking back, the only really clear sign I showed that something was “wrong” is that I went from being a teacher’s pet to skipping a lot of classes and heading home for lunches instead of hanging with friends. But given a lot of my friends knew I had gone through trauma and a separate death in the year before, they didn’t think anything of it. Like from memory, I think at “worse” there was a joke made about I had become one of them and cared about school less. Granted there is always the case that they realised but never said anything, but yeah, at least from where I’m standing, they never knew. And that’s why I will never judge loved ones of someone who does anything negative off the bat, because it, and especially addiction, can be so easy to hide.

I also find it really interesting and relatable that Demi linked her drinking with drugs like that. I spoke about this the other day in an ask, but the two have always been super linked to me. But what I find most interesting is that she spoke about it in connection to negative emotions. Because while yes, I have always connected both with negative emotions, for me, being in a negative mood has somewhat made it easier to not relapse over the years because I could justify it with “well I’m feeling bad, of course I want something to pick me up. That doesn’t make it what I need though”. Meanwhile, I found out last year that I still feel that need to use when drinking in a good mood and that freaked me out to the point I don’t drink at all anymore. Either way though, like I said, it was an interesting point to bring up the connection and definitely relatable.

This isn’t really about the documentary itself, but it really hit me how far I have personally come when she spoke about and started playing Sober. Like at the time Sober was released, I was so close to relapsing myself that I couldn’t bring myself to listen to it straight off and yet now I am really starting to feel like I reached a place where the future looks so bright.

The Sexual Assault:

I don’t really have much to say here past “god I wish this wasn’t so relatable”. During my time using, and even the early days of trying to get clean, I had someone in my life that would constantly try to start something sexual with me and when they realised I wouldn’t do it, they drugged me and did it anyway. And while that is clearly sexual violence, there still very much was that stigma of ‘well I was getting high with them anyway” and feeling like that made it consensual and realising down the track that no, it really didn’t. And while not part of the documentary itself (yet), Demi talking in an interview about how she invited the drug dealer back to her house to “make things right” afterwards really hurt my heart knowing how long I spent with the same delusion that this person would make amends too.

Other/Final Thoughts:

I find it interesting that Demi noted that this pandemic is pretty much what made her stop and fully comprehend all of her past trauma. In many ways, it reminds me of sentiments that Taylor has said in regard to Folklore and Evermore, so it’ll be interesting to see just how much of that makes it onto Dancing With The Devil: The Art Of Starting Over. I also find it interesting that according to wikipedia, the last part is meant to come out after the album which could be an implication that the album finishes at a point of Demi’s life before the documentary finishes.

All up, this documentary gives me a similar vibe to Taylor’s documentary Miss Americana where it somewhat feels like it’s more for the casual/non-fans because anyone who pays attention to Demi’s recent interviews will have heard/at least been alluded to nearly all of this information already. That in no way makes it a bad (half of a) documentary, it’s just an observation. In many ways, I also feel like that’s what made the content about her father hit harder too because it was new or things she has not spoken about in a while. It will be interesting to see where the next two parts go from here in terms of being more positive and/or the nitty gritty of picking yourself back up. Either way, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

#demi lovato #dancing with the devil

18 notes · View notes

spidernerdsblog · 4 years

Text

I forgot that you existed : Chapter one

A/N: okay chapter one is here going a little slow with the storyline wanted to add a little bit of details to the lives of the characters. I can guarantee in next chapter our hero will be in full form and not just in flashbacks. Hope you like it. Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Tom Holland × Singer reader

Summary: It's been more than five years since you and Tom have gone their own ways after a heartbreaking breakup which had left both of you shattered. Both of you thought that you were finally over with each other and were happy in your respective lives until you meet again at a reunion trip planned by your best friend and you realise you are still not done with each other.

Warnings: none, flashbacks.

Mini playlist: love story, ME! By Taylor Swift

We were both young when I first saw you

I close my eyes, and the flashback starts

I'm standing there

On a balcony in summer air

Sounds of giggles and laughter " No! she is my best friend" Harrison exclaimed pulling you by grabbing your left hand towards him "No she is my best friend!" Tom said, pulling your right hand. You couldn't stop giggling as you were stuck between a tug of war between your two best friends who stated that you can only be best friend to any one of them not both. You were only 5 years old then Tom & Harrison both 3 years older than you but you loved hanging out with them.

Your parents shifted from LA to London for their work and coincidentally your house was in the same neighborhood as were of the boys. You all became friends through your mothers when they used to take you to the park when you were toddlers. You were the only girl of the whole boys gang consisting of Tom, Harrison, Harry and Sam and they were very protective about you. You used to boss them around.

As Haz and Tom were quarrelling over whose best friend you were in the backyard of the Holland's house. Tom out of nowhere declared "if it's that so Y/N is my girlfriend" and gave a gentle peck on your lips, you stood there in shock and soon you started blushing as you covered your face with your hands and ran inside to your mother who was chatting with Nikki.

You went up to your mom and asked innocently "Mom, Tom said that I'm his girlfriend and gave me a kissy like you give me every night before bed. Is he no more my best friend ?" Both the mothers started laughing as Nikki spoke “no peanut he will always be your best friend and if you love bugs stay like this forever maybe he can be your husband too."

You scrunched your face and said "eww!! I will not marry him"

“why is that so? " your mother asked laughing

"he always steals my chocolates" you said innocently “no I don't!! Tom said from behind as he entered the house with Haz, “yes you did yesterday only you took it from my bag at school” both of you now started arguing. Nikki and your mom burst into laughter after hearing it. That was the beginning of your love story.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story baby just say "Yes"

.........................................................

You loved to listen to songs as it helps to release your stress and this song of yours was very dear to you as it reminded you of some sweet memories. You were scrolling through the photographs that you had taken back when you were living in London together with the boys as you thought about that whole incident, your actual first kiss, you smiled and shook your head at the realization that you both had disappointed your mothers.

You finally dialled Harrison's number he picked up instantly

"Hey Y/N!"

"Hello.. this is 911 what is your emergency?" You chuckled

"You will never change will ya?"

"That was the plan actually to never change"

"Talking to you after a long time man missed your voice so much"

"Me too Haz.. So how's everything going there?"

"Yeah everything is fine here just wrapped up my new film."

"Great!! How are the boys, Nikki and Dom?"

"They are all fine. Harry is busy with his new film's plot, Sam as usual experimenting with new dishes."

"An.. and how's he?" You hesitatedly asked

"He's good too wrapped up Avengers 5 will be returning home tomorrow.

By the way congratulations for the success of your new album to be honest it's a badass album the lyrics are dope."

You giggled.. "Thanks Haz"

"So now are you free or still have any upcoming projects?"

"I can never be free Haz I m always working, always thinking of lyrics for my next song. Leave all that, what was the emergency that you said to call so urgently?"

"Ummm.. Y/N I want something from you."

"Anything for you Haz"

"You have to promise me first Y/N that whatever I say you have to say yes"

"When have I ever said you no anyways just tell me"

"No! Y/N first promise me"

"Uggh Okay Haz I promise now spit it out. Sometimes you really act childish." you rolled your eyes.

"I want you to come back home I mean back here at London I have planned a 10 days trip to Cornwall at my beach house which we all used to go every summer when we were kids it's a sort of reunion for the whole gang I have invited Z and Jacob too"

"Haz you know I only go on Christmas every year to spend time with you guys because that is when I m free. And I'm pretty busy this month. I have a recording to be done next week for my upcoming single."

"Y/N you promised you will not refuse me. I just want a little time from your busy life.”

"But Haz…"

"And also I'm gonna celebrate my 30th birthday there, your man is getting old love."

"Umm... I don't know what to say Haz I'm confused"

"If you're thinking about him I can assure you there will be no problem besides he is not single anymore so why worry?"

That is the problem Haz you said in your mind.

"Umm okay I'll give it a thought and let you know after confirming the availability of dates." You ended the call and fell back on your bed, your hands and legs spreading across the bed like a starfish. You face palmed and groaned.

You went into a deep thought, your brain still processing the whole conversation you had with Harrison. After a few minutes you heard your phone buzzing and you smiled as you looked to see who was calling. It was Zendaya, face timing you. You had seriously wished to talk to someone right now. You have very few close friends in the industry and Zendaya was one of them. You collaborated with her for your bad blood music video and you guys clicked instantly from that day you became really close. She was your 3am BFF and you both knew each other's darkest secrets. You picked up the call.

"So Haz called you up didn't he?"

"Bingo!! So what are you thinking?" Zendaya laughed

"I don't know Z. I just feel scared. I know I have met him a couple of times during my Christmas visits after everything happened but that was just a one day thing and this whole 10 day trip is freaking me out. I also don't want to disappoint Haz. I missed all of his birthdays for the past few years on purpose just to avoid Tom."

" You are just over thinking babe everything will be fine and I will be there to cheer up your emotional ass. Besides as much as I know Tom is very chilled out he will not bother you."

" I don't think so. He has a very cold attitude towards me even now whenever I go back home. "

After you moved to NY you almost begged your parents to move here and stay with you but they were adamant of staying in London so once in a year you used to visit your family and friends during Christmas. The Christmas Dinner was always hosted by the Holland's after your break up you always panicked to go to their house. The first year when you went. The boys, Nikki, Dom welcomed you as if nothing had happened; they hugged you with joy. But when you went to give Tom a hug he just backed off and out of formality gave you a shoulder hug and you got your hint to stay away. He even brought his new girlfriend for the dinner which you thought he did on purpose to make you jealous or hurt you. And you were actually hurt at the thought that he really moved on so quickly. So you avoided family gatherings to prevent such awkward situations.

"Babe your life doesn’t revolve around Tom he was a part of your life which is over. Start living your life. And we are in our early 30’s and still single don’t wanna die like that do you ??. Even if you want you can have your sweet little revenge by showing off that hot body on the beach and show that asshole what he missed." Z smirked.

You quirked your eyebrows “So you're telling me to be a bitchy ex who doesn’t want to see her ex boyfriend happy”

" Nooo!!! I didn’t mean that just show him how happy you are, that you are one of a kind, he will never find anyone like you in his life. We are gonna have a blast honey and you are coming so start packing."

You had to finally give in with a deep sigh you said .."okay Z I ll go but if I jump off the cliff after all the mental stress I'm going to get in those 10 days you and Haz will be responsible for it." you laughed.

"Oh we won't want that. Besides you have handled more stressful moments than this you will be fine dramaqueen." Zendaya said.

You talked to Alex about the whole trip to sort out the dates. He was a little sceptical at first about the whole reunion with ex trip , but he believed in you and gave you a nod for the trip. You informed the good news to Haz of your approval to the whole trip. Before you could leave for your unplanned vacation you had to finish recording and shooting for your new upcoming single featuring Breidon Urie.

"I promise that you'll never find another like me

I know that I'm a handful, baby, uh

I know I never think before I jump

And you're the kind of guy the ladies want

(And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)

I know that I went psycho on the phone

I never leave well enough alone

And trouble's gonna follow where I go

(And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)

But one of these things is not like the others

Like a rainbow with all of the colors

Baby doll, when it comes to a lover

I promise that you'll never find another like

Me-e-e, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm the only one of me

Baby, that's the fun of me

Eeh-eeh-eeh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You're the only one of you

Baby, that's the fun of you

And I promise that nobody's gonna love you like me-e-e"..............

The song was soon officially released by the music company and the audience loved it and your work was done for the moment and now you could focus on the trip. All of a sudden you were really feeling excited about the whole thing. You and Z were constantly texting each other to plan about the journey.

The day arrived and you met Z at the airport. "So ready for the battle?" she chuckled. You rolled your eyes and laughed "going on a battle would have been much easier compared to this I guess" but in your mind you were confident. Yes you had finally decided that you're ready to face Tom Holland to show him that you have also moved on. And to show him that he'll never find another like you.

The nine hour flight was uneventful as both you and Z slept most of the time which proved that you both were in dire need of a vacation away from your hectic glamorous lives.

It was around 5 ‘o’ clock in the morning in London when your plane landed. Both of you collected your check in luggages. Check out was hassle free as it was early morning with few people around and nobody recognised you as both of you were in your hoodies. As you came out of the exit door you started to look amongst the crowd and finally you saw those familiar icy blue eyes approaching towards you.

“Ah!! Finally the star arrived” Harrison hugged you tight

“And all credit goes to you Z because our star has stopped listening to her best friend may be got someone else to replace me” he hugged zendaya and started laughing

“getting rid of you has been one of the failures of my life" you pouted

"Ouch!" Harrison dramatically placed his hands on his chest as if hurt.

"No one can ever replace you from my life you idiot" you lightly punched his arm.

Harrison chuckled and said with a fake French accent "I m your chauffeur for the day, madame your car awaits at the parking lot."

After you three put all your luggages in the car. Z and you sat at the back seat and Harrison sat on the driver's seat as he started the car. It was an approximate four hour ride to his beach house.

" You know Haz I really missed the summer in London so glad I said yes to your plan."

"The only thing I liked about London when I came for Spiderman:FFH shoot is the Harry Potter museum" Zendaya declared

You noticed Harrison looked a little off today so you asked "you look a little bit stressed out Haz what's the matter bud?"

"How do you read my mind so easily?" Harrison sighed.

"I'm your best friend dumbo now tell me what is the thing that is bothering you so much?" you said with concern in your voice.

"Okay I need to say you something, just don't be mad Tom will be bringing his fiancee too at the beach house. But don't worry everything will be fine I promise."

Your face went expression less as you looked at Harrison then to Zendaya. You were starting to panic from inside. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes as you leaned on Zendaya's shoulder. She rubbed your shoulder to comfort you as you thought in your mind "what a great start to this cursed trip."

..................................................................................

Taglists:If you want to be added send in an ask i will be happy to add you.

@sophs-library

#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland × reader #tom holland imagines #haz osterfield #zendaya #taylor swift #tom holland fluff

138 notes · View notes

sxveme-2 · 3 years

Text

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Thirty-One : The One With the End

Warnings: Child Birth

Word Count: 3293

Lily let out a breathy sigh as she sat up in her bed that morning. Her breathing was laboured from her crying the night before, and eyes felt swollen and puffy. A feeling she'd become accustomed to over the past few weeks. When she became coherent, a new feeling of dread fell over her shoulders. It was her birthday.

The knock on her door only solidified that.

Hunter pushed open the door, and walked in with Rose with a plate of blueberry pancakes and orange juice. Butter and icing sugar coated the sweet breakfast and Lily smiled brightly as she opened her arms for her son. The boy ran forward and tackled his mom, hugging her tightly and wishing her a happy birthday, before rolling to the end of the bed with Joey.

Rose waddled forward and smiled, tilting her head as she placed the tray down, eyes scanning her sisters face, "You alright Lily?"

The older sister pursed her lips, forcing a fake smile on her face, "No one likes getting older."

Rose nodded slightly, taking a seat on the other end of the bed beside Joey and Hunter. The three sat in silence as Lily began eating. Lily wasn't really sure what to say to them. Birthdays were never really a big thing for her. She went all out for Hunter, but never enjoyed them herself. She preferred to just go on with her day like it was nothing. It was easier than having all of that attention on her for the whole day. Agreeing to the dinner tonight was more so for Gen's sake than her own. It would put her best friend at ease. So Rose was staying home with Hunter while Lily went to the cafe and spent a few hours with her best friend.

"Can I style you today?" Rose grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at her sister, hands resting on her swollen stomach.

"...Do I?" Lily chuckled, sipping her drink, "Will I end up walking out of the house looking like I own 57% of a company?"

"No. But it'll get you out of those sweats," she grinned, "Plus it's your birthday present. I bought you clothing. Don't worry, it still fits you're 'don't talk to me I'm a ball of anxiety' style."

"I do not dress like that!" Lily laughed, scoffing halfway through.

Hunter turned his attention to his mom, raising his eyebrows, "Mom. I'm twelve, and I know that's your style."

"Ha!" Rose laughed, standing to her feet, "Looks like our little man's gonna follow in his aunt's footsteps and go into fashion."

"No." Hunter stated, turning his attention back to Hunter, "I wanna join the military like Bucky."

Lily choked on her drink, the orange liquid staining her grey pyjama top. Her mind went blank as she placed the cup down, staring at her unbothered son. Rose above him was wide eyed and stunned at the sudden confession. Lily wasn't even sure how to process the information. She never would have thought about Hunter doing something like that, let alone following in the footsteps of his mothers ex-boyfriend. But she figured it made sense, he looked up to Bucky more than Lily could fathom.

"When did you decide that?" Lily managed, wiping her mouth with a napkin, facing her son.

"After hearing Bucky's stories on my birthday," Hunter shrugged, scratching Joey's ears, "And I fully decided when he went on the mission before you and him broke up."

Rose stared at Lily's shell shocked face. Lily could barely peel her eyes off of the back of her son's head. He was so nonchalant about it all that Lily felt a shiver of fear slide down her spine. This seemed like such a casual topic for Hunter, all while it shredded the last bit of Lily's heart that was intact after the end of her last relationship. She didn't know if this was something that Hunter was truly serious about, or if this was his weird way of trying to get his mom back together with the supersoldier.

"Okay buddy why don't you go get dressed okay?" Rose hummed, shooing the twelve year old from the room with the dog following suit.

The moment the door shut behind the boy, and his footsteps were far enough away, Lily broke once again. Her tears fell down her cheeks rapidly as her heart grew heavy and lead like in her chest. Rose struggled onto the bed and tugged her sister close, letting the elder cry into her shoulder. Letting all of those broken pieces shatter into something unfixable.

The only one able to fix it too far from her reach.

-----

Lily stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn't used to wearing dark colours, Rose knew this. However, Lily now stood in front of her bathroom mirror in a black knee length tennis skirt, with a black and white striped sweater tucked into it. It wasn't something she was used to. She only really reached out from her comfort style when her and Bucky got further into their relationship. She took a guess that Rose knew this, and used it as leverage to get her sister to finally grow from the shell of who she was.

"I feel like I look like a sore thumb." Lily muttered to herself, running her hands down the front of the skirt, readjusting it at the hips.

"I heard that!" Rose called out.

"Then stop listening!" Lily replied, turning her head back to the mirror.

Running a hand through her golden hair, Lily tilted her head. She didn't hate the outfit, she just wasn't used to it. But she supposed it was her 34th birthday, she could experiment with fashion a little. Besides, it was only her and Gen for dinner and a bunch of strangers that still occupied the cafe. It's not like anyone would give her a second glance. Touching up her lipstick, Lily turned and walked from the room, smiling tightly at her sister.

"You look great, Lil." Rose nodded, wincing slightly.

"You okay?" Lily asked, walking forward and placing a hand on her sister's nine month pregnant stomach.

"Yeah yeah I'm fine, he's just a bit of a kicker recently." Rose chuckled, standing to her feet and walking from the room, Lily trailing her.

"I can stay home if you need me to, Rose. I don't mind." Lily insisted, following her younger sister closely behind.

"I'm fine Lily, really," Rose sighed, easing herself down the stairs, "He's just kicking. I know the difference between labour and kicking."

"I said that too, and gave birth later that day." Lily further pushed, placing her hand on her sister's shoulder as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"No. Lily, you're going out. It's your birthday," Rose sighed, handing her sister's purse to her, "Now go. Hunter knows how to dial 911 if in some freak case I end up going into labour. It's 7:30, you know Gen hates it when people are late."

"No she do- "

"Go!"

-----

Lily sighed as she stepped out of her car, embracing the warm and slightly muggy air of the city. As much as she adored the smell of the grass and the noises of kids playing, Lily always had a soft spot for the hustle of the city and the sounds that came with it. She had lived in the thick of it for a bit with Gen, and she enjoyed it. But knew that it would become too overwhelming for her if she stayed too long. Hence her desire to be out in the suburbs with her own individual space.

Paying at the meter, Lily locked her car. She ducked and dodged around pedestrians as she walked towards the cafe that beckoned her forward. Her hand rested on the iron door handle and she pulled it back, beaming at the comforting smell of coffee and croissants. Taking a quick survey of her surroundings, Lily walked forward towards the back of the cafe. Where she could only assume Gen was slaving over an oven working on a meal for her and Lily.

"Well if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're cooking for a family of seven." Lily chuckled as she walked further into the kitchen.

"Good lord!" Gen exclaimed, dropping her spoon, "Announce yourself when you walk in here Lily!" She chuckled, turning and walking towards her.

"You just looked so focused." Lily teased, wrapping her arms around her best friend.

"Happy Birthday hun." Gen smiled, pulling back and pressing a kiss to the blondes flushed cheek.

"Thanks love, now can we eat? I'm starving." Lily teased, turning and walking back out onto the slightly crowded cafe floor.

The blonde found her seat in a booth just adjacent from the kitchen, and slid in. One of the servers brought her over a cup of coffee and left the pot, wishing her a happy birthday before she scurried off to help the other customers. Lily pursed her lips as she watched the young girl hurry around, a round bump protruding from her stomach and stretching at her apron. With a tight smile, Lily took a sip of her coffee.

"Okay I've got something to confess," Gen sighed as she walked out with the two dinners in her hands, "a certain group of people called and reserved a booth here tonight."

Lily raised her eyes to meet her best friends as the latter slid into the booth across from the blonde, "...what certain group?"

"Before you lose it on me, Elijah took the reservation not me," Gen added quickly, raising her hands in defense after putting Lily's chicken parm in front of her, "but it may be the group your ex-boyfriend is a part of."

Lily dropped her fork onto the table and pinched the bridge of her nose, "Are you kidding me? Gen you told me this would be a peaceful and nice dinner, just the two of us."

"I know I know I know!" Gen sighed, twirling her own pasta on her fork, "There's nothing I can do. I put them at the booth farthest from her though so, don't worry. There's no chance you'll run into your robot ex."

-----

Liar.

Turns out, Gen, being her forgetful self, put the Avengers at the table directly across from their booth. Leaving Lily in the direct eyeline of Bucky or whoever decided to sit on the far side of the table. Either way, it wasn't a good placement. And of course, right when they sat down, Gen realized her mistake and stared at Lily with wide and apologetic eyes.

Only to receive the dirtiest glare from Lily.

"I could have sworn that I put them on the other side of the cafe, in a booth." Gen sighed, feigning innocence as she returned her attention back to the food in front of her.

"You also said it was the Avengers. Not just Sam, Steve, and Bucky." Lily hissed, sipping her coffee and staring down her best friend, "What are you playing at, Genevive?"

"Tomato tomato," Gen sighed, waving her hand, "It's not like they're going to come talk to us. No one has been in contact with them in a month. Not since you broke the terminator's heart."

Lily dropped her fork again and raised her eyebrows at the brunette, "Really?"

"Oh relax. Now I'm going to check on your cake in the back. Don't go flirting with Captain America while I'm gone." She teased, standing from her seat and walking towards the back.

Rolling her eyes, Lily pushed her plate away from her and focused solely on her coffee. She tried with every part of her to avoid turning her gaze towards the hushed voices of the three Avengers who were sat a mere few meters away from her. However, even the strongest wills can bend. She dared a glance, dark eyes lifting from the strong liquid in her cup to just get the slightest peek at what he looked like.

She regretted it instantly.

Lily instantly locked eyes with his steel blue ones. Heavy eye bags that matched her own weighing down those once bright and lively eyes that Lily had fallen in love with. His beard was overgrown and hair too long and unkept. His entire face was fallen and solemn, as though he lost all life in him the day she told him to leave. His frame was fallen and thinner than she remembered.

He looked equivalent to her.

Shallow breaths, sunken shoulders. Troubled eyes and heavy thoughts. She had caused that. Lily's breath caught in her throat as she placed her cup down, tearing her eyes from his. Without a second thought, she stood from her seat. He followed suit. The cafe seemed to fall silent as the two stood at the same time, both daring the other to come closer. But Lily didn't intend to speak with him. Instead, she walked past him with her chin up. Right towards the bathroom opposite of the kitchen.

The steps grew quicker as she got closer, before slamming the door shut without a second thought. She placed her hands on the sides of the marble sink, attempting to catch her breath. The cool feeling on her hands brought some relief, but not much. The blonde lifted her head to stare herself down in the mirror. Her eyes seemed hollow and cheeks fell inward. She had lost a part of herself the day he left. After she told him to. It was her doing. She pushed him away and refused to talk about her feelings.

She destroyed both of them.

Fixing up her makeup and attempting to recenter herself, Lily felt every bit of dread fall on her like a blanket. If she had talked to him, told him her fears, her anxieties, this could have been avoided. They could have still been together, a pairing that worked so well it baffled Lily. He would still be in her arms, safe and away from the danger. She would have still been the girl he greeted with a kiss when she came home from work. But no. Instead, they were husks of people missing the other half of themselves.

Turning on her heels, Lily opened the bathroom door. Only to come face to face with the man who had plagued her thoughts for over a month now.

"Hi." He said softly, voice deep and gravely.

"Hi." She replied, heart picking up as she stood in front of the door, letting it tap against her back gently.

"Happy Birthday." Bucky whispered, taking a box out of his jacket and reaching forward, handing it to her.

"Thanks." She replied, voice equally as weak as she took the box, staring at him with confusion.

"Open it."

Lily nodded, her hands shaking as she went to open the leather case. She wasn't sure what he was playing at. If he was just being a nice person, if this was a hurtful prank, or hell, if he was trying to get her back. She wasn't sure. It all rested on the leather box that she held in her hands. But the moment was cut short when he phone vibrated in her pocket.

She whipped it out, ignoring the thud of her wallet on the floor. She'd pick it up after the call. Sliding her phone up, Lily answered her sister's call. But she didn't get to speak before she was running out of the cafe at Rose's three panic filled words.

"My water broke."

-----

Lily wasn't aware she could drive as fast as she did. Hunter had called an ambulance and the two had already made it to the hospital when Lily pulled up. Without a second thought, she tore through the entrance and stopped at the front desk, chest heaving and face red.

"My sister's giving birth. Rose Osborne. Came in with a little boy. My name's Dr. Lily Osborne. I work in the children's wing." The blonde stuttered, breath still trying to catch up with her voice.

"Right this way, Doctor." The nurse nodded, leading Lily through the doors and towards the maternity wing.

Lily followed hastily after the nurse, only picking up the pace when she saw Hunter sitting outside of a room. She ran forward and wrapped her arms tightly around the boy, pulling him tightly into her chest. Her breathing relaxed as she kissed the top of his head, bending down to be his height as she gave him a tight but warm smile.

"You did great buddy, now I'm gonna go help Auntie Rose bring you your cousin." She whispered, kissing his forehead before turning and walking into the room.

-----

Three hours. Lily held Rose's hand tightly for three hours as the latter officially became a mother to a healthy baby boy. Three hours later, Lily had a large bruise on the back of her hand from the sheer grip of her sister. Three hours later, the father of said child showed up. On the phone though, with his new girlfriend.

He didn't get far. Lily refused to allow him in the room until Rose was ready. And he didn't put up a fight, showing just how willing he was to truly become a father to the young boy that was swaddled in his mothers arms.

"Do we have a name for the little guy?" The nurse cooed as she walked back in the room, smiling at Hunter, who sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the baby boy in Rose's arms.

"Leo." Rose sighed breathlessly, "Leo Logan Osborne."

Lily smiled and kissed Rose's head before excusing herself from the room. Feeling a bit more relaxed, she slid into a seat and pulled out the leather box that Bucky had given her. She flipped it a few times in her hands, before pulling the trigger and opening the lid. Her heart hammered heavily against her chest as she pulled out the bracelet, smiling softly at the charms that he had already put on it.

Pancakes. Coffee. And a dog.

Clasping it around her wrist, Lily nodded to herself. Agreeing with herself that she would call him tomorrow, when everything was a bit more relaxed. Or more so, when she was less anxious about speaking with him again.

Peaking into the room, Lily smiled at Hunter curled into his aunt's side, staring longingly at the young boy in Rose's arms. Shutting the door softly, Lily turned towards the wall and walked towards the cafeteria, her own stomach rumbling. She could only imagine Rose's hunger. As she walked forward, something pulled her deep within to walk faster. So she did. Her feet moved faster as she rushed for a spot in line, staring up at the options.

After ordering and paying, Lily found herself coming face to face with a large chest in front of her. With the same intoxicating scent she had come to love over the last few months. She shut her eyes, before forcing her neck upwards, a tight smile on her lips as she met eyes.

"You left your wallet." He stated softly, reaching out with the leather item.

Lily pursed her lips once more and nodded, taking the wallet and sliding it into her pocket as she met his eyes once more. His eyes stared down at the bracelet on her wrist, and she grinned at the blush that formed on his cheek.

"Thank you." Lily whispered, "For the bracelet as well."

"It's my pleasure," Bucky commented, reaching his hand up and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, "What'd you get?" he said, earning a deep chuckle from her as she leaned into his touch before answering.

"Blueberry pancakes."

7 notes · View notes

weeklyfangirl · 4 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 23

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20, part 21, part 22

Here’s the chappie where you get a look beyond the Mediterranean fortress Harry calls home... ;)

Timing is sometimes too perfect to be the pure product of coincidence.

Everything is connected: the earth and the seas, the moon, and all the sky’s stars.

Our bodies are made of these, fragments of their nature, tying us to this world.

Aunt Lara used to tell me that we are a part of the cosmos, the cosmos pushing and pulling people into paths they’re supposed to be on. She’d smoke her cigarette on our porch with the full moon hanging high in the sky that she’d soon be flying through, and I’d nod, thinking I was so cool just for being around her. It was our time then, just the two of us, sometime after my parents had gone asleep and I’d sneak past their room to meet her outside. She never told my parents I was staying up late on a school night. She’d take another drag, extending one to me, knowing I wouldn’t take it.

“I’ve seen seven year olds with these things,” she’d mutter, laughing to herself, and when she’d look out, I imagined she was envisioning the Roman Cafe she’d frequent beside the famed Colosseum. A hot sun, and balmy breeze, warm like the foreign friends she’d meet, or the lukewarm seas lapping around her ankles. “So much warmer and clearer than anything you’ve ever felt here. The most miraculous shades of blue...” She’d smoke, she’d smile. I’d admire.

It was a full moon that night.

Just like it was tonight.

There are some things that happen so precisely, I think there must not be any other way these things could have happened, no other explanation, other than Aunt Lisa’s: the universe and its timing are inextricably linked to create our destiny.

Our choices change our future, sure. But there’s something beyond that, in the fickle way our choices play out ironically, that makes me think some things are fated. God, the cosmos, whatever you believed in - they had bigger plans for everyone.

They certainly had bigger plans for me other than a depressing Netflix binge in my dorm room after the game.

Yellow fluorescents flickered in the dismal parking garage. Lionel Styles was waiting by the elevators with Sven, looking oddly casual in normal streetwear. They grabbed Harry from me as soon as I’d parked, carrying him in. I followed, for a brief second questioning whether or not my services were needed. Maybe this was only family now.

But Lionel hastily beckoned me towards him. “You wanted a hands on experience right?”

His words seemed crass in a moment like this, but I brushed it off as stress as I went with them in the elevator. Lionel punched in a code and it creaked to life, slower than normal. A table had already been cleared in one of the surgery rooms, a white plastic sheet like that of a serial killer lain across. Gauze, ice water, rags, forceps, and needles were atop a metal tray. It was everything I expected of a surgical room - stark, sterile, and cold without any frivolous decor. No paintings. I assumed there was never anyone awake enough in this room to enjoy them anyway. Sven lay a white medical pillow down, too thin to be comfortable, as Lionel lowered Harry. I cringed, feeling another wave of nausea wrack through me. His gauze, once pink, was now completely red and looked wet to the touch.

“He’s been bleeding this whole time,” I breathed. Albeit obvious, it was less to inform Lionel than it was to come to terms with it myself.

Lionel flicked one of the syringes, nodding solemnly. “He might need a blood transfusion.”

Blood transfusion. IV poles were behind the table, blood blags and clear IV fluid already ready. He was expecting this.

“Shouldn’t he be at a hospital?”

“Nothing we can’t do. He’s just a boy. Gets into scrapes every now and then.”

“This is more than a scrape.”

He ignored me, plunging the needle in, and less than a second later, Harry’s eyes fluttered.

“Adrenaline,” I whispered under my breath. I recognized the protocol.

Lionel looked at me, curiously. “You’ve done a good job. Did you stuff the wound?”

I shook my head. Harry was still lightly breathing thanks to the adrenaline. But he wasn’t anywhere near stabilized to warrant my work being commended.

“It’ll be enough until my friend gets here,” he said.

I looked at him, skeptically.

“The anesthesiologist,” he clarified.

And I blamed it on the shock for being so daft. Dr. Styles had been established in the medical field since he received his degree, it was no surprise if he had a “friend” for everything.

“Is Mary here?” I don’t know why I asked this question. I don’t know why I thought it was relevant. Perhaps because if my mom knew I was bleeding out on a table, she’d be right there. Right beside me. She would’ve been the one driving, bossing around all the doctors. 911 would have been called and she would’ve moved hell fire and water screaming like a banshee to get to me. “Does she know?” I questioned.

Lionel didn’t even look at me, carefully unwrapping the gauze. “She’s sleeping. I didn’t wake her.”

The separate lives of Mr. and Mrs. Styles spread further in my eyes, only their roof and rings joining them.

I unpacked new gauze, handing it to him. The butterfly bandaids hadn’t held, big shock, and blood trickled down in a steady current. How much blood could he have left? Lionel didn’t have time to be surprised, but the stoic doctor looked a shade whiter when he grabbed the gauze. The wound was exposed and he hesitated, simply applying pressure. His hands bloodied by the second.

For as renowned as he was, in facing his own son, he suddenly seemed paralyzed. I wanted to shake him.

Sven re-entered, slightly out of breath. I’d never noticed him leaving. “They’re here, sir. But they can’t get in-”

A spark was lit. Something familiar for him to grasp onto. “Elevator’s been jamming,” he cursed.

I helped apply pressure, and Dr. Styles looked at me, unsettled.

“I’ll stay here. You can let them in,” I nodded, even though there hadn’t been a question.

“It’s deep. So you have to physically stuff the wound with gauze. Have you ever dealt with a stab wound?”

My eyes narrowed. He already knew what kind of injury it was.

Then, mustering all the poise and retort of the First Lady, “With all due respect sir, I can do this.”

“I’ve seen grown men faint at the sight of needles let alone handling an open wound.”

“Thank God I’m a woman then.” I don’t know what possessed me, but my steely gaze must’ve been convincing. Lionel ran through the door, not even bothering to shut it.

Perhaps it was all the hours of being kept to dull paperwork and the maddening helplessness I’d felt for too long now.

But I couldn’t sit around anymore.

I needed to do something.

Sven watched me as I put on gloves and bunched up the gauze, holding my breath as I pushed it past the skin’s opening, ignoring his little gasps telling me this was hurting him, and ignoring the hot sensation around my hands. Tissue. That hot sensation was his tissue. I was inside Harry. I was touching… suddenly the anatomy I’d memorized in textbooks was a little too detailed. These gloves were too thin. I kept going and Sven jumped in to help elevate Harry so I could wrap the gauze around his entire abdomen, stuffing his wound until it was full.

We didn’t speak.

I sat on the only steel stool in silence. I may not want to sit around, but right now the floor could move beneath me at any moment. Sven was in the corner of the room, gaze locked to the clock. The minutes seemed to tick by slower than anything I’d ever felt. I could feel time, just like in the elevator. And maybe it was because his time was running out. He could die. Harry could very well die. If I’d chosen to go with Renny, if I’d stayed a moment longer, if I’d left a moment sooner, I would’ve passed the locker room without hearing him, without seeing him at all. What would the alternative have been? An image of Harry bleeding out, cold on the floor made me nauseous.

And still the clock ticked.

I could have screamed by the time they burst through the doors in a flury. Two men I’d never seen before entered in slacks and untucked button-downs. This hadn’t been an expected call. This wasn’t official. They ignored Sven and I, instantly getting to work, which was fine by me as long as I could stay. They inserted needles and attached wires and masks until I wasn’t sure I could untangle him if I tried. The smallest mewling noises came from him, but he didn’t stir. I don’t think he had it in him to move anymore. Only able to give one desperate lolled roll of his head.

One of the men, the anesthesiologist, fiddled with a machine. The whoosh of releasing gas sounded when Harry took his first breaths. A slow, but steady, heart rate appeared on the monitor.

Lionel looked at it briefly.

The Doctor and his helpers worked for what seemed like hours. Maybe it was. For how long time felt and despite how intently I’d been staring at the clock, I couldn’t recall when we’d arrived. I cringed as they undid my handiwork, only to excavate deeper into the wound. I know this might be my future when I pursued medical school, but on more than one occasion I had to look away.

Sven had left the room entirely, standing guard just beyond the door. At least Sven escaped the smell of metal and flesh.

They stapled Harry together like meat, a butchered boy on the operating table, like Hasbro Operation except no one was laughing when the forceps dug in, and nobody won.

Every time I cringed, I reminded myself: Harry was asleep. He couldn’t feel any of this.

He looked like a corpse under the unforgiving white light, but the heartbeat reminded me he was alive.

When Lionel Styles finally turned away, tossing his gloves in the bin, he looked whiter than the sheet beneath Harry.

It was the longest night I’d ever had.

But for him, to excavate into his son the way he just had, I imagined it was longer.

------

“I didn’t have to come,” Matt said, for the first time irritance lacing his voice. Golden Boy stood at my doorway, recoiled, after I’d practically growled upon seeing him.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It was a long night.”

And annoying after the e-mail notification I’d received about the DG Pretty Please. Time was running out, and it was the last thing I’d had on my mind recently.

“Why was it so long?”

I twirled my hair around itself in a messy bun, letting it hold itself up. I just shrugged while Matt’s concern mounted.

Lionel had asked me not to speak of it. “We’ll let you know when you can see him,” he’d said. As far as anyone else was concerned, I hadn’t been there that night. There was a reason he didn’t want Harry going to a hospital. Less questioning, less spotlight, less of an impact on their image… it still unnerved me. Such a horrific injury, and yet… it was almost expected, brushed under the rug. Had Harry really been this much of a troublemaker growing up that a stab wound was equivalent to a scrape for Dr. Styles?

Matt set the steaming Del Taco bag on the floor. “Y/N, seriously, what’s up? You couldn’t even stay the weekend on campus? She told me you’ve been gone for weeks.” He sat down at the foot of my bed when he was sure I wasn’t going to turn into a snarling monster. Which, to be fair, must have been a hard conclusion to come to. “And it’s true, I haven’t seen you around at all. You just… disappeared.”

“Okay, it was ONE week,” I clarified. “And we don’t see much of each other anymore anyways so don’t act like you’re so butt hurt that I decided to come home again.”

I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them. They were the ones we hadn’t said. The ones we knew were true. But a mood had crept through me last night turning me sour against the world. And now each word I spoke was infected with its poison.

His brows scrunched, eyes flashing with indignation, not sure how to handle me, of all people, lashing out abuse.

“Yeah, because you quit your PT job.”

“I got a new one!”

“And that’s fine! Why are you so… defensive right now??” he laughed briefly at the absurdity. “I just don’t know why you’re trying to blame this on me. Where is this coming from?”

I remained silent. I didn’t know why I was blaming him so harshly for our friendship reaching a downward slope. I knew we had different circles of friends, and as gross of a cliche as it was, he was with the athletes and I was with… Renny. Though now I was starting to hang out with Lynn more, too. A part of me envied him for having such an instant community with his team. Isn’t that why people joined sororities? For community? I’d seriously flunked that one, though a little voice told me I just wasn’t trying hard enough.

He looked to my collaged wall, expecting to see our photo strip. But it wasn’t there. He stood up, finding it atop my mom’s arts and crafts bin.

“Haven’t been here in a while,” he said, softly.

I watched him, stood in my room like all those high school nights of old, seeming taller than before. Like in the months we’d lost touch he’d somehow gotten too big for this room, like he’d somehow outgrown me.

“It fell down,” I lied, because Harry had taken it off.

They say your high school friends won’t stay with you forever, that as you grow older, the number of friends you stay in touch with start dwindling until it’s down to one or two. I stopped speaking to most of mine after the first year of community college. People move on. People change. I changed too, even though I stayed behind. But there was always Matt. Of all people, I didn’t think it would be him and I standing apart and feeling farther, still. When these relationships change, the transition feels gradual. It’s like, in some unspoken unseen moment, your lives sync up, and you’re both busy at the same intervals. And then you make plans to see each other, but both of you don’t reach out the day you’re supposed to meet up. Neither of you follow through. Because it’s easier. It’s natural. An unspoken agreement.

“We’ve both been busy,” I said.

“The last time I saw you, you had a massive mark on your neck.”

“You can say hickey, Matt.”

His eyes fluttered, and he looked away. If I wasn’t devoid of emotion then, I’d think it funny how he got flustered just thinking or talking about anything sexual with me.

“You’re pretty close with Harry then?” he asked, ears slightly reddened.

“What makes you say that?”

“An educated guess.” A charming smile lit his face, almost shy, the hostility in the air dulling for a moment. “I’ve seen you with him before, and you were wearing his jersey at the game… I didn’t really believe it though.”

“What do you mean?”

“C’mon. Harry Styles.”

“And?”

He raised his hands as if the answer was so obvious it was floating in the air. They dropped. “He’s not really your scene, is he? I don’t mean that in a bad way, he’s not really my scene either.”

“So?”

“So, nothing. I was just trying to find something to talk about.” He was getting more irritated now, his thumb digging in between his fingers. “Really, I don’t even care to talk about him, let’s talk about you. Please. Have you drawn anything recently? Why’ve you been feeling off?”

I snorted. “Please, I haven’t drawn anything since high school. There’s nothing new.”

He crossed his arms, testing me. “I don’t buy it.”

He was smart not to.

“You know… It took a lot for my dad to ask me to stay behind instead of going off to Princeton,” he said. Every molecule seemed to still around him. “He can barely speak now. The guy who wouldn’t ask you to fetch the boogie board even if you were the one who’d let the waves take it in the first place...” his voice trailed off, a silent sadness swirling in blue eyes.

I remembered Patrick Price taking us to the beach and pushing us beneath the big waves, teaching us how to balance on those harmless foam boards we’d pick up at Rite-Aid. Just three years ago at high school graduation, Patrick was running across the grass playing football with Matt and Dad at the BBQ while Mom and Summer dished out the pasta salad and watermelon. He was diagnosed two years ago, and now instead of serving pasta salad, Summer serves him, watching him closely on his wheelchair. ALS was a nasty disease and it acted fast.

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to be helped,” he finished.

I wanted to say that I was sorry. I wanted to say that it wasn’t him, that it was me. But something else had already consumed me, not letting in the light, finding the darkest parts of me and unfurling them until some spilled past my lips. “You didn’t have to drive all the way down here just to see me.”

“I didn’t,” he said, and even though he hid his hurt well, I could still see it. He stood from the bed, making up his mind that there wasn’t any use being with someone who pushed away anything that ventured near. “I’m helping my dad move offices. The rent is too high now for landscapers.”

“They’re leaving? But you guys have been in the same spot for years.”

Matt gave a shrug, taking his turn at the silent treatment.

“I didn’t know,” I said, lamely.

The chasm between us grew bigger, and I shrunk even smaller, letting the silence and guilt consume me.

“But you wouldn’t want to talk to me about that either, right?”

I swallowed, hard. I deserved that.

And I was too ashamed to stop him from leaving.

Less than an hour later, I was cursing him again. The smell of Del Taco drove my mother away from the living room. Messy wrappers lay scattered around me when the door opened. I may have been too ashamed and prideful to apologize to Matt, but my growling stomach was stronger than both.

She saw me in the same position Matt had left me, and I avoided her gaze, checked my phone. No updates.

The room seemed cold.

“You look like you’re having the same day I’m having.” She came in with a basket of clean clothes, setting it on the floor.

“Mom, I told you I’d do that.”

“No, you needed rest.” There was a flash of pity, but it was lying beneath a thick shell of annoyance. She huffed, sitting on my bed, just like Matt hours before.

She snuggled closer. I faced her on my side, hands pressed against my cheek. She mirrored me.

I waited for her to say something, but in the silence her eyes grew wide, shaking her head. The mysterious reason for her mood like a gorged balloon floating towards a fan.

“What?” I asked.

“I think your Dad has feelings for somebody else.”

My brows scrunched. “What?”

“I don’t have any proof. But we were on a date night last night and…” -she let out a cruel laugh that made me want to hold her- “He was texting her.”

“Who?”

“A waitress.”

“A waitress?”

“Nicole the waitress.”

“How do you know it was her?”

“He denied it. But I looked at his phone when he went to the bathroom. She’s been a little… friendly with Dad.”

“Nicole?? Mom, she’s like nearly forty.” A brief memory of a friendly blonde working in the restaurant trickled up and left a sour taste on my tongue.

“Still fifteen years younger than me.”

My nose shriveled up, the thought of Father being romantic with my own mom made me cringe, but the thought of Father being romantic with somebody else? It didn’t seem… conceivable. My parents weren’t like the Styless. They kept us together. They loved each other.

“Have I met her? I’ll punch her next time I see her,” I said, the words still not connecting with my brain. With the facts laid out before me.

Mom snorted. “Not before I do.” She plucked at a hangnail, a habit I’d gotten from her, and I could practically see the insecurities already rolling around in her mind.

“You’re gorgeous, Mom.”

She gave me a look. “I’ve been stress-eating chocolates. I need to watch myself.”

“Mom.” I frowned, seeing worry behind her humor. “He needs to watch himself.”

She sighed, turning to the ceiling. “I don’t know. I just have this… feeling.”

“Women’s intuition?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, and I knew if Mother was telling me this from her vault of secrets, it must have been significant. She wasn’t one to listen to Lara’s spirituality, but intuition was something she would never refute. Momma turned back, rattling her thoughts together. “Anyway. I’ll just be... shocked. If it’s true. I mean...a waitress? Really?” Silence suspended. The afternoon sun warmed the room a little more than usual, exposing the paled filmy stars on my ceiling to be illuminescent frauds. “Or maybe I’m not,” she said, quieter. Before I could bat my eyes, she changed the subject. “Why’d you come back last night?”

But I could still see the steam rolling off her shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it more?” I offered. The Del Taco turned queasy in my stomach, and as much as I loved her, I really hoped she said no.

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything.” She squeezed my hand, letting me know she meant her apology. She did a once-over at my stale big t-shirt. “Did something happen to make you want to come home?” Her fingers ran along the tops of my knuckles. “Or do you just love me.” Her smile was less than half-hearted.

“I was going to be alone at the dorm again. Renny was going to a party and I didn’t want to go with her…”

“I hate how she leaves you alone. Maybe we should get you a puppy for company?”

I gave her a look and she caved. “No, you’re right. Probably wouldn’t fit in there. You couldn’t take care of a puppy now anyways. Too needy. So, did he like the house?”

Her mind seemed scattered in a million directions. Mine struggled to keep up.

“Mom, seriously what are you talking about?”

“Oh, I didn’t know if he said anything about it afterwards or-”

“Mom, who?”

“Harry, honey.”

She was clueless of what her words did to me. My heart lurched just hearing his name, and the worry from last night washed over my exhausted frame like a crab on the shore, strong tides like a persistent weight, threatening to carry me away again.

“I’m sure he liked it,” I said.

“It’s an older home...he’s probably used to columns of marble.” Her embarrassed smile for even asking the question made my heart split further.

“Actually, he did say something! I remember now, he told me it was cute. Homey. He thinks the marble stuff is too cold anyways, he’s excited to come back,” I reassured her. The last bit was probably a stretch but it worked. Embarrassment fell away and her smile glowed.

Satisfied that she was happy, I turned to face my ceiling, closing my eyes. The problems with her and Father swum in the back of my mind, but I was too tired to take on anything else. She was an adult. She could make her own decisions. The information settled in a box in my brain, waiting for a moment when I could fully process it and I’d unlock it all again. I could feel the inklings of damage it would do to me if I truly unpacked it - anxiety, anger, confusion, fear, pity.

Family was a constant.

I couldn’t think about that changing, too. Not when I could barely keep my eyes open.

“You’re so sad, angel. What’s going on in your mind, hm?”

I shook my head, shifting to look at the ceiling. I didn’t need to feel guilty for not confiding in her. I needed to not feel anything.

Her presence was like a lighthouse, radiating heat, beckoning me to come back. All without her saying a word.

She looked as if she were going to say something else, but her hand fell back into her lap. “Okay,” she said.

She didn’t even try.

Maybe she knew the fog was too thick for me to see her light.

Then, through the fog, a vibration shook me to the core.

-----

“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” Sven stepped aside, the grand foyer to the Styles estate stretching out before me. Any other time, it would be enchanting, captivating. Now, it looked as treacherous as a hospital hall. I wasn’t sure what rendition of Harry was waiting for me on the other side of the staircase.

My feet carried me up a familiar path, my heart pounding at the unknown.

Irrationally, I had to remind myself that Harry was alive. I wasn’t going to find him, not like I’d found my Grandpa in his room.

Regardless…

“Are there people watching him? Is he alone?”

“He’s stabilized. There’s no need for nurses to keep watch.” Sven held dirty linens as he stayed in my shadow up the stairs.

I nodded, the assurances not really meaning anything, not until I could put an image in my mind as to what he looked like. Right now, all I could conjecture was a gray blur for a head sticking out above the sheets. How bruised would he be? How much stained blood would there be? I didn’t know what to fill in the gray with, so my mind envisioned the grim Harry I’d last seen, the Harry that, if it weren’t for the monitor, I wouldn’t have known still had a beating heart.

Each step carried me closer with a horrifying thought. My brain playing connect the dots as I walked.

Pale.

A clay boy.

A stitched up doll.

And everyone knew dolls didn’t breathe.

I didn’t realize I was alone until I turned around. Of course Sven wouldn’t have followed me, but for some reason I wanted him to be here.

Maybe it’s because he was with me when I’d seen Harry last.

“Y/N.” The familiar voice was weaker, but the grim tone was still so painfully bare. Of course he’d sensed me.

When I stepped out from behind the door, I didn’t find a dilapidated monster. Harry lay resting.

“Hey.” I snuck in, light as a swallow’s feather in the morning breeze, floating down beside him and resting my head atop crossed arms. The sight of him shook me. “Raggedy Harry,” I barely whispered, a horrible punch-to-the-gut feeling ballooning in my chest.

Half of his face swelled more than the other, his bottom lip completely bruised and jutted out, with a fairly deep gash that had started to scab. I fought the urge to trace over it.

“Looks worse than it is,” he said, watching my eyes carefully. Besides the pink-red swelling, his face appeared flushed. And despite his injuries, he was still miraculously beautiful.

I didn’t even blush from staring. Loose earthy curls had not been affected by time spent smooshed against the pillows. If anything, it’d pushed them forward, the floppier fringe defying gravity just there above his forehead. People could go to a stylist and ask for effortless mussy curls and not have it turn out as good as his - and this just with his genetics and days spent sleeping.

If I were him, I’d look like a grease monkey.

“Well, I can’t see the worst bits I’m sure.”

His chest was wrapped in gauze, this time not bloody to the touch. It was thick, white, and secure, and suddenly the tears that had yet to spill started pricking my eyes. I didn’t know just how badly I needed to hear the words before he said them.

“Y/N, I’m fine. I promise.”

The heaviest weight lifted from my shoulders, but my body slumped deeper into his mattress from an instantaneous realization. I’d needed Harry to be okay. I needed him here, even if I couldn’t explain why.

My hand reached out, brushing the tops of his hand.

“It would’ve been a dick move if you died,” I managed to breathe. I let out a sorry excuse for laughter, nervously sniffling.

His eyes seemed heavy, tired. The circles beneath them a cry for help from his beaten body.

“You can sleep if you want. I just wanted to check in on you.”

“I’m not sleeping when you’re here. S’all I’ve been doing,” he croaked. A flood of relief washed over me. Being apart from him was the last thing I wanted right now. The anxieties that’d been plaguing me the past 24 hours were muted to a dull simmer, drowned out by the highs of my body being close to his. Noticing his body...

A steady drip came from the IV hooked to his arm. Five pill bottles were on his nightstand, within arms reach. He noticed my staring.

“To stay hydrated.” Then, under his breath, “And numb.”

“I know,” I barked a laugh that instantly felt out of place. “I want to go into medicine, remember?”

His voice seemed lower when he rumbled, “S’right. You’re a smart girl.”

The tenderness in his voice sent an unexpected warmth straight to my chest. “You know that’s also a curse,” I noted. “I think too much.”

“I know,” he said, but he didn’t laugh like I had. It sounded like an apology. I almost jolted when his hand reached out to touch mine, not expecting him to be warm.

“You almost died,” I said, taking a breath. “I was there when you almost died.”

“I never wanted you to be there-” Before I could take offense, he weakly squeezed my hand. “I want to protect you, Y/N. I never wanted you this involved with me.”

“Well we’ve done a shit job at staying uninvolved. You can barely protect yourself. You can’t protect yourself.”

“That isn’t going to happen again.”

“The fact that it happened! Harry, I don’t think you understand how scared I was. How scared I am. I could be next, I don’t know what they want...”

A horrifying puzzle piece clicked into place. My nightmare of being stabbed could become a very real reality. It wasn’t until I saw Harry wincing that I realized his breath had quickened.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you out. We don’t need to talk right now.”

The sting of I never wanted you this involved with me pulled me to the door, but his hand pulled me back.

“No. Fuck no.” But his grip softened again, his abdomen screaming at the effort to pull me back to him. When he spoke again his voice was a murmur, quiet-quiet, so gentle I could’ve imagined it. “Stay. Please. Seeing you here is the happiest I’ve been all week.”

My heart could’ve flown out of my chest, but for the buzzing electrical phenomena his words ignited in me, I was frozen by his sober admittance of want. It seemed all we ever did was dance around each other, literally. As if we were in an old 1700s ballroom, and everyone was dispersing into pairs. We spy each other from across the room and tiptoe around, refusing to seek other partners, yet refusing to commit to a dance.

“Is that sad?” His sincerity broke my reverie.

I leant closer, and his eyes fluttered shut in expectation… But my lips pressed soft kisses to closed lids. “I’ll stay,” I promised, nose to nose. Because my answer to his question would be yes. Something told me the mess of his body finally matched the inside of his heart.

Rather than tilt his head up to kiss me, he tried scooting over in the bed. It was painful to watch. I stopped him. There was plenty of room for me to lay beside him. So I did, scared to touch him.

“I’m not going to break,” he huffed. Tough and untouchable, I imagine being tip-toed around was the exact opposite of what he was used to.

“You didn’t see yourself that night.” Bloodied gauze and feeling his hot insides against my hands was enough to make my own blood curdle. It was enough to make me question if the Harry in front of me was simply a mirage. He was okay now, I reminded myself. But after I’d seen him bleeding out in the seat next to me, I wasn’t sure I believed him to be unbreakable anymore.

“You’re right, I’m… sorry,” he looked away, as if not being able to meet his reflection in my eyes. As much as I could hear regret, I knew he felt it even more.

My hand reached out, fingertips gently touching his raised cheek. “You were the one who felt it.”

He barely leant against my touch, gaze boldly probing my tired eyes, puffy from crying. The longer he stared the guiltier he became.

“Maybe we both did,” he said. The statement seemed to confuse him, brows stitching together. “No one’s ever been there for me like you. And-” he smiled as wide as he could with the swelling- “honestly it scares the living shit out of me. I know you didn’t have much of a choice to help-”

I surprised myself again, the definitive statement flying out of my mouth faster than I could comprehend. “I’d do it again.”

But the words seemed to hurt him more. His head lulled to the side, his prominent adam’s apple moving as he swallowed, deep in thought. “You’re too good for me,” he surmised. Before I could argue, he took my hand, pressing the back of it to bruised lips. He was acting so soft, so vulnerable. Was it the drugs? Was it an act? But if it was, how could eyes lie like that?

He hummed as if we were laying on the beach on the first hot day of summer, despite all the pain he must be in. The pros and cons list I’d written and stashed in my purse was sending out a throbbing heartbeat in my body, burning a hole where my purse lay at the end of the bed. No matter if the list were true, it couldn’t encapsulate the complicated person that he was. It wasn’t a fair portrait to paint. And putting me on a pedestal wasn’t either. “That’s not true,” I mumbled, far too late.

“It is,” he said. No room for argument.

“Did they give you some love drugs in this medicine bag of yours?”

His brows quirked at love, but he didn’t seem mocking when he said, “Maybe.” Emerald eyes were a mix of admiration, torment, and want as they drank me in, and I was sure if I let him stare into my soul a moment longer, he’d discover I wasn’t perfect at all.

I looked out towards his panoramic balcony window. Little flickers of light told of a city at the bottom of the hill, the dark ocean like a blanket for the rest of the world just out of reach. I wondered how long it’d been since the sun had set. Like any night with Harry, the rest of the world slipped away.

I stole a glance back at him, the beautifully broken boy resting his eyes. As if sensing me, he stirred, mumbling something incoherent.

“Too far,” he repeated, opening up his arms.

“I’m not laying on you Harry. Your stitches could burst.”

He growled. “I don’t care.”

And I didn’t doubt it. I came as close as I dared, thankful his shoulder wasn’t bruised as I lay my head in the crook of his neck, hands blindly combing through curls.

I could feel him relax into me, hear the boyish smirk across his face. “My mum used to do that,” he whispered. “Not this mum, my other…” his voice stuttered out. “My biological.”

It grew quiet in the room. An opening to the door of his past just barely letting in light.

“Do you miss her?”

“Can’t miss what you don’t remember,” he dismissed. And just like that, the door to his past was slammed shut. It was exactly what he said about the Styles’s first child Jane. But this time it sounded rehearsed, mechanical, a river of emotion carefully masked. But not to me.

My hands stilled, not sure if I should continue. But he leant into me again, and I continued my gentle work, as if undoing his tresses could untangle messy thoughts. “Thank you,” he sighed.

In some unspoken moment, he turned his head down, his tanned beaten face leant closer to mine. And with the intimate intensity only he possessed, he saw me. Like I was the only woman in the world. The oxygen seemed pulled from the room as time suspended. He leant lower until our foreheads brushed, his brows stitching together when I instinctually drew my leg across him, careful not to hitch it up too close to his wound. Our breathing deepened, the anticipation building as my hand drew across his face, my fingers settling behind his ear. He huffed, irritated at the tangling of the IV chord when he wrapped his arm around my side.

We stayed like this for a while, cradling the other. And just like I had done before, his pillow-soft lips ghosted over my cheek, then my nose, then my chin, until they hovered just over my lips. My eyes fluttered closed, the trail he left leading to one place…

“Y/N,” he breathed. I opened my eyes. There wasn't any reluctance in his eyes, but something similarly cautious yet fervent, an unspoken sentence pushing against closed lips.

But the sound of glass shattering woke us both up. His body turned hunter, still as stone as he listened for what came next. A hysterical cry drove Harry to stand, miraculously faster than I thought possible, and it wasn’t until he limped halfway towards the door that I realized he ripped out his IV. The banshee scream turned into a chilling wail, freezing me to my core.

My mind went to the worst case scenario. I’d have to jump from the window somehow. The gang must have found us. They must be in the house-

“It’s Mary,” he cursed, stopping my spiralling mind so quickly I was left dizzy. I don’t remember following him, but he stopped me at the door, hands locked around my shoulders.

“She has… fits, sometimes,” he explained.

“I don’t care.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to see this, too,” he said, and the amount of shame that shadowed his face was like a gouge through my heart.

I barely had time to say the words before another scream ripped through the empty house. “I’d do it again.”

With a somber nod, he rushed us out, practically sprinting to the living room where Mary Styles lay cradling her shell-shocked frame on the floor.

“You were gone. You left me,” she sobbed. Her hair was ripped from its usual loose curls and mascara ran down her face like the clear snot running from her nose.

“Oh my God,” a voice mumbled.

But I realized the voice was me.

The glass mirror at the bar had shattered. Shards of glass lay scattered all over the floor. Harry trudged through it, barefoot, bits of red mixing on the marble floors.

“No one was here, no one saw.” Her eyes were crazed as Harry bent over to pick her up and she pushed him away. “No! NO!!”

Fear spiked in my body. I’d never seen someone look so disconnected from the present reality. This was raw. Unpredictable.

But Harry seemed unphased.

“No one saw her, no one saved her,” she wailed. The weight of the words caused crippling sorrow. She stopped resisting, retreating into a shell of herself with choked cries, “Jane, Jane…” as Harry let out his own shout at the effort to lift her.

“Be careful, you’re hurt,” I called out, weakly. He didn’t bat an eye.

“Go through those doors, through the living wing, there’s a closet on your right. Grab the Valium and meet me in the guest room.” He avoided my gaze, looking instead to the direction I should be running to.

“Where in the closet?”

“Black box,” he ordered. Then, whispering to Mary, “It wasn’t your fault.”

But if she heard the words, they didn’t register, her face twisting, her own little trickle of blood running from the tips of her hands.

Her sobs barely quieted as they rounded the corner down the hall, abandoning me in the wreckage.

I was careful to step around the glass, heading to the massive hidden door in the wall I remembered Harry pointing out as the “living wing.” No one was around to confirm if memory served correct, but when I finally found the latch handle and tugged it open, tropical foliage surrounded me. It smelled humid, like stale water and… musky. Like when I had a hamster in fourth grade and forgot to change out its bedding. The light from the moon shone through their giant skylight, illuminating caged birds gently calling behind bars, enclosed in a sizey aviary. A small raised indoor pool made of rock looked like a concave fossil, with a shadow swimming amongst the mossy water. A miniature crocodile skirted to the furthest edge away from me and raised for air, two eyes looking skeptically in my direction. “Toto” was etched into the rock.

There were more enclosed habitats, and at the head of the room overlooking it all, a giant wooden desk. But no closet. No closet.

Frick.

I didn’t have time to ponder the eccentricity of the Styles’s owning a freaking zoo in their mansion. Nor did I have time to try and find a friggin light switch. Not at all.

I walked the length of the wing which seemed just as expansive as their living room. Ironic, I thought. Because this was literally a living room.

Then, beneath an arching tree canopy held in a planter box, two wicker handles protruded from the wall with a crack running between them.

Bingo.

They opened easily, revealing a deep closet full of filing cabinets and old paintings. My phone light illuminated the top, where two black boxes seemed to have gone untouched for years.

My foot tapped impatiently, not sure which one to grab. I hadn’t heard any cries of bloody murder, but someone (not me, someone more athetlic) could’ve run a mile in the time I’d been gone.

I reached for the one closest to me. It was velvet, I realized, surprised even this family’s storage containers would have some element of luxury. I prayed to find pills. But instead, a wax sealed envelope holding a thick stack of documents glared back at me. I was just about to secure the lid again when the inklings of a photograph peaked through between the papers. The deep-red seal, already opened, was their insignia, a cursive “S” that looked like it’d come from the 18th century.

Since the seal was already broken…

My hands carefully leafed through the pages, and as if they knew, the animals grew louder, alarming themselves of an intruder. These documents seemed court-ordered. Various signatures adorned the pages using language I couldn’t understand. My heart dropped when I realized what I was holding. Adoption papers. Among them, a newspaper clipping about a boy separated from a violent family, and adopted by rich Americans.

Slowly, with each word I read, the oxygen felt snuffed from the room, another puzzle piece falling into place. One that changed the picture completely.

Wednesday morning at 5 am, neighbors of Sheffield awoke to gunshots at the King flat. After an attempted murder of his wife resulting in two gun shot wounds to Maisie King’s abdomen, Roger King committed suicide. Maisie is currently in recovery, and her two children have been placed in foster care while the court assesses their home situation.

More newspaper headings were clipped out, detailing the TV star rescuers of the boy, how lucky he was and how a wonderful, ritzy life in California awaited him. His entire fate had been changed - but there was no mention of Gemma. And in each photo, the child-like innocence in his eyes seemed vacant, replaced with a stoic sadness I’d only seen glimpses of when he was medicated. When he was too numb to remember to keep up the mask.

For how little the Styles’s divulged about Harry’s past to the American press, in England the story seemed to be the tragedy turned happy ending. At least, to some extent, the Styles’s were owed credit for something. They’d probably paid off the international papers.

Little Harry… My stomach suddenly flipped, the room’s darkness transferring to something physically heavy in my chest. There was a photograph, too, and I carefully wedged a finger where the worn corner of it peaked out from the paperwork, keeping its place as I tugged it out. But when I saw it, I almost dropped everything.

The familiar curly-haired child I’d known from old Housewives episodes stared back at me in a worn blue polo from discolored film. Reddened tear-stained eyes looked at whoever was behind the camera.

There were fresh bruises on baby-plump cheeks, cuts across rosy cherub lips.

I looked away as soon as I saw it, but the image had already burned in my memory. A taste for the shadows of scars I could only imagine he carried ten-fold. His cuts had buried much deeper than flesh; the most dangerous wounds afflicted his soul and stole the air straight from my lungs.

Oh, God.

Oh, Harry.

How could anyone do such a thing? He was just an innocent boy, how could anyone- how often…?

Bitter bile rose in the back of my throat. Dealing with bloody injuries was one thing, but seeing a beaten child had me sick for another reason entirely. This was something evil.

I put the photo back just as quickly. I’d gone too far this time. I’d really gone too far.

So it was almost an accident that the next photo fell out when I was putting back the first.

A man, strewn across a red puddle seeping from his head. A gun tossed at his side. The bile rose again and I refused to stare, but my mind caught the ends of wavy brown hair and a face that wasn’t really quite there.

I should’ve noticed when the animals quieted, I should’ve heard footsteps quicken in the other room, but it seemed far away, muted by the roaring secret I’d just uncovered, my mind fully fixated on the life no one could have known about Newport’s playboy hier.

If Harry hadn’t noticed the velvet top of the box not quite closed shut, he saw the guilt in my eyes when he stood square before the closet doors.

He looked irritated, almost grabbing the closed box from my fingers.

“It’s the wrong box!” I cried, horrified that even my voice reeked of pity. And something else. Fear.

He froze. A flame flashed beneath the dulled emerald, a spark of knowledge I was sure he’d like to forget. That he’d probably tried to forget, countless times. He shoved it away and grabbed the other box, stopping briefly as he walked past me again. He threw a cold glare.

“Don’t be scared of the snake,” he said. “But he doesn’t like strangers.”

As if on command, a giant boa constrictor slithered out from the overhanging tree, tightly coiled around a branch.

I felt my heart lurch in my throat.

“Harry!” I called, but he wasn’t here anymore. And if he was, he didn’t answer. He left, rushing to deal with one mess, when I feared I’d just created an even bigger one. Frozen to the spot as I figured out how to basically army-crawl out of the closet, I ran out past screaming birds and rustling waters, snake eyes burning two holes in the back of my neck as I chased Harry’s shadow.

come talk about frat boy! or if you just wanna talk... i’m getting tired of talking to my dog lmao

237 notes · View notes

imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 4 years

Text

Finally Here

Jasper x Reader

A/N. Full disclosure this is my first time writing for anything twilight but I was happy do it because it was Jasper. Commission for @kilyra ! ALSO, Alice x Jasper doesn’t exist here.

Summary: A vampire intends on havin you as their dinner, Jasper intervenes.

Forks – it was beautiful and had been the perfect place to grow up, but it had been nearly five years since you lived in your hometown. Besides holiday vacations, life after college had kept you away from Forks and your family but a recent job change to Seattle had brought you closer to home. It has been about a week since you settled into your parents’ home and you were finally going out with a few old high school friends who were still around. After changing into some comfortable jeans and tee, you grabbed a black coat and said goodbye to your parents, feeling like a teenager again, as you ran out just as your ride pulled up.

The bar was new, replaced the old one you had passed by so many times as a kid; never getting a glimpse into it but knowing adults liked to go there for a good time. It was odd at first, walking in and knowing you were now an adult but that was nothing a few rounds of beer could fix – and a few shots of tequila; three hours later, you were having a good time catching up with old friends and relieving the stress of moving and starting a new job.

“So, when’s the apartment ready?”

“It won’t be available for another two weeks,” you explained to Mary, your high school best friend. “Which is fine, since my new job does not start until next month.”

“Good, that means more time together,” she grinned, eyes dodging to the front door. “We can find you a man here, a cool one.”

You laughed and said no. “I do not want to go man hunting; I need to focus on my work.”

“Unless that man is Jasper, huh?”

Mary’s words had the heat rise from your toes and you chucked a crumpled napkin at her – it had been almost seven years since Jasper and you had been partnered up for a history class in your junior year. He had been quiet most of the semester but that did not mean you had not noticed how attractive he was. Of course, all the girls loved the Cullen brothers, but they mostly swooned over Edward. Jasper, he was much more reserved, which said a lot because most of the Cullen clan was reserved.

Jasper had been soft spoken but informative about the American Civil War, the part of history the pair of you were assigned to. Since he was pretty much a walking Encyclopedia on all thing’s history, you took the role of presenter although he did chime in once or twice to help you out. Overall, the two of you did well and received top marks, and after that, you would gain a small smile from Jasper in the hallways.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, pushing away the beer in front of you. “I thought that was forgotten history!”

Mary shrugged and mentioned that he still lived in town. “The whole family still lives here; I see Bella so often – can’t believe Edward and her actual worked out.”

The mention of your old classmate and friend brings a smile to your face, remembering the couple’s small wedding and how surprised you were to be invited. You also remembered the glances Jasper and you shared at the party throughout the night and feeling slightly disappointed when nothing came of it but moving on as life did.

“I’m glad to hear, maybe I’ll give her a call before I head to Seattle. I’m going to have a quick smoke, want to come?”

Mary declined in favor of talking up a guy at the bar, so you left her to do her thing while you placed on your coat and grabbed your cross bag, going out the back entrance of the bar. It was chilly but you lit up a cigarette and leaned against the back wall. It was nice being back home, but it was incredibly different from the California weather you had grown accustomed to.

“You cold, sweetheart?”

A chill went down your spine as you glanced to the left of you, where a man stood hands tucked into his jean jacket. He was attractive but something in his smile made you feel uneasy; listening to your gut instinct, you flicked the cigarette to the ground and started toward the back door but you barely touched the handle when you felt the weight of the man on you.

“Don’t bother screaming, sweetheart, I will rip your throat out before you have the chance,” he whispered into your ear, fingers gripping at your shoulders. Your body still in shock as he pulled you away from the door and turned you around to face him. A stifled scream began to form in your throat as his eyes went from blue to black, but he had grabbed you by the neck and started dragging you towards alley way that led to the edge of the woods.

His grip on you did not flinch as you attempted to hit him with both fists, but it did nothing to do as he tossed you forward. You hit the ground and scramble to your feet, running into the woods as this sinking feeling hit you – running away from the bar and into the dark woods was an awful choice but you ran, nonetheless.

It felt like you were running to your death as your feet pounded into the dirt ground, trying to pull out your cell at the same time until you dashed behind a tree hoping to dial 911. Your fingers shook as the screen lit and you dialed the number nine but that was all you could get to before the cell was knocked out of your hand.

It was the man, the monster, and he smiled as he pushed you up against the tree; his hand touched the side of your face. “Feel free to scream all you want now, honey, no one will hear you.”

“Fuck you,” you grunted, staring into his eyes trying to show that you weren’t scared.

“I like a fighter,” he growled, showing off his sharp teeth. Your head turned away from the sight and a slight whimper echoed out of your mouth as tears ran down your face; never in your life have you felt fear like this, but you did not want it to end like this. Turning back to him, you started to fight against him, getting a slap in that seemed to entice him even more. He grinned as he seemingly twisted your arm, breaking it as you screamed in pain.

“Leave her alone.”

A deep rustic voice came from out of the shadows and before your eyes could adjust from the tears, the man was off you and a familiar face was in front of you; a face you could never forget, especially those eyes, those deep gold eyes.

“Jasper?”

“You’re going to be okay,” he said with a slight smirk before turning his attention to your attacker. “I would try to run if I were you, my brother and his wife are waiting for you at the town border, and the rest of my family are hunting down the rest of your group – that is, if the wolves haven’t gotten to them first.”

The man growled but turned and disappeared within seconds, leaving you feeling dizzy and afraid. Tears welled up in your eyes and you started to cry, body shaking as Jasper touched your broken arm.

“It’s not, it’s really not,” you cried, pushing his hand away. Your chest felt heavy as you tried to control your emotions, but everything was crashing down on you like a train. “What was that? Who was he?”

Jasper remained quiet for a moment and you could sense the unsureness in his face until he sighed and looked at you. “He was a vampire.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled at your brazen answer and suddenly your fear seemed to vanish under his glance, and you felt like that teenager again in history class – except now the two of you were adults and vampires existed in Forks.

Wolves too.

“We need to call the police, tell Charlie!”

Jasper cleared his throat and said that he knew. “He knows about us.”

Us; the word came out quiet, but you heard it and it made the pain from your arm fade into the background as it became apparent that the person you had a crush on had been a vampire this entire time – and then, it all made sense.

“We need to get your arm checked out; Carlisle will help you.”

You didn’t say anything, still stun but you nodded and mumbled a thank you when Jasper picked up your cell phone from the ground. He wiped it clean and handed it over, taking his jacket off.

“I should set it until we get to the hospital.” He stepped closer to you and noticed the way your body stiffened as he tied the jacket as a sling around your shoulder. You winced as your arm settled against your chest but then Jasper’s fingers accidentally brushed the back of your neck as he adjusted it, and it felt soothing.

“Thank you,” you whispered, fully aware of how close he was. His eyes stared into yours and he nodded, but you could not look away; there was something there and it was like the two of you were back at the wedding. His eyes always found you that night, prompting you to smile and look away shyly, and now it was no different.

Except, he apparently was a vampire.

“Let’s get you to the house.”

“I need to call my friend; we were at the bar together.”

Jasper glanced around the ground, finding your cell. He dusted it off and handed it over. “Call your friend, I’ll call Carlisle.”

You watched him for a moment under the moonlight as he turned his back to you; Jasper was a vampire and it didn’t go over your head when he said his brother and his wife were waiting for your attacker at the town border – did that mean Bella was one too?

Is that why Charlie knew about the vampires and wolves?

Were all the Cullen’s vampires too?

You called Mary, she was frantic for a moment, wondering where you had gone. Telling her to calm down, you explained that you gotten an emergency call and had to leave. You apologized for leaving her hanging but she said it was fine and promised that she would take a cab home if necessary. The two of you hung up and you looked to Jasper.

“I came here on foot, I’m fast. I can get you to the house, but you have to trust me.”

Heart pounding, you knew you could – you could trust him because you felt it. Felt a strange pulling to the man in front of you and something occurred to you.

“You knew so much about the Civil War because you lived through it, didn’t you?”

Jasper smirked knowingly and sighed. “Yes, I must confess my firsthand experience got us that A.”

“Cheater,” you scolded playfully, lifting the tension out of the air.

He laughed and shrugged, moving to you. “We passed, didn’t we?”

“We did. I guess you being a vampire explains a lot, it must be hard.”

Jasper’s face fell. “What do you mean?”

Tucking your cell back into your pocket, you looked up at him. “I work in psychology; you might be a vampire, but I can tell you still have some human in you. So that means you have feelings and like the rest of you, have things that haunt us in our sleep.”

His chest heaved a bit as he felt the genuine concern flowing from your body towards his, he could feel your sincerity and he was mentally kicking himself for letting you go that night at the wedding; when he couldn’t help but look for you throughout the night. He had talked himself out of approaching you that night because you were human and was afraid of what that meant. Yes, it worked out for Edward and Bella but he always thought his heart would go to another vampire – someone he could spend forever with, not a human who would perish one day, like all the people he encountered in his long life. But now it seemed, life was giving him a second chance at something with someone he felt this unbelievable connection with, and he knew there was no way he was letting you walk away this time.

“You’re incredibly right.”

You smiled with amusement until you accidentally moved your arm. “Shit.”

Jasper frowned. “I need to get you to Carlisle; the fastest way is for me to carry you there.”

Laughing, you noted that you weren’t as limber as you had been in high school and Jasper grinned. “You look great.”

Hiding your grin, you asked how long it would take to get to the house. Jasper said not long at all, holding out both hands. “Are you ready?’

Feeling a little uncertain, you stepped up to him and cursed loudly when he scooped you up in his arms. He smiled down at you as a strand of hair fell over his eyes, thinking nothing of it, you reached up with your good hand and brushed it back behind his ears. Your heart raced as your hand lingered on his cheek, especially when he didn’t move away, instead his head moved down to yours and before you could commute was happening, he kissed you.

It was sweet, soft and short but it had your head spinning as he pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open and you should have been thinking about the fact that you were kissing a vampire, but all you saw was Jasper – soft spoken and kind Jasper

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Except, you weren’t.

The speed he was going was unfathomable, the wind ran through your hair as you pressed your head into his shoulders, eyes closed for the entire three minutes it took Jasper to get to the house which was lit up like a lantern. Jasper stopped suddenly and you yelped, gaining a lighthearted laugh from him. Slowly, he placed you down on your feet and asked if you were okay, moving your hair off your shoulders.

“I feel like I might throw up.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing we kissed before.”

His teasing was delightful and you smiled just as the front door opened; it was Carlisle and Esme, looking like the perfect couple – and that’s when you remember they too are vampires but you weren’t scared not when Jasper gently reached for your good hand. He squeezed it lightly and said it was okay, that you would be fine.

“I know,” you said to him, letting him guide you up the stairs to the front door. Carlisle and Esme rushed you in, the latter taking your hand from Jasper as she moved you to the living room. You could overhear from the foyer the two men discussing your attacker – Bella and Edward had caught him

“The others will deal with his friends,” Esme assured you, her smile was warm and dainty. “Just like humans, there are good and bad vampires.”

“And you guys are the good ones,” you pointed out, taking a seat on the couch.

Esme smiled and you relaxed just as Alice walked in, her eyes wide with delight. The two of you never had any classes together but you knew her by reputation – she was a very nice person. Skipping over to you, taking a seat next to you. She grinned and touched your shoulder lightly, explaining that she was so happy you were finally here.

“Finally?”

Alice looked over to Esme before smiling at you. “Yes, Jasper didn’t know about you, but I did. You are the one to get him out of his little sad rut; the two of you are going to be so happy together and we become the best of friends! I saw you coming years ago but I guess you weren’t ready until now. He was terribly upset when you left town for school, but things worked out!”

Not understanding what she was saying, you glanced up at Esme, who explained that Alice could see the future.

“Something like that,” Alice concluded, giving you a wink as she jumped off the couch. She looped an arm around Esme’s waist and lead the woman out, leaving you alone for a moment to take in what she had said.

Alice was a vampire who could see the future and she saw Jasper and you together, and happy. There were so many questions to be asked and you wanted answers but more importantly, you wanted to see Jasper.

“Are you okay?”

You looked over to the archway of the living room and saw Jasper, looking a bit stiff – it seemed Alice had spilled the information to him as well.

“So, Alice told you as well?”

You nodded and Jasper sighed, stepping closer into the room. Scooting over, you watched as he made his way to you. He hesitated for a moment before sitting down but relaxed once said his name and he looked at you.

“It’s going to be great, okay?”

Jasper’s golden eyes softened as you smiled, reaching down for his hand. Squeezing it, you gently laid your head on his shoulder and knew that everything would be fine – yes, there was going to be some adjusting to the fact that vampires existed but there was no denying a future seen. And even if you could, you didn’t want to because you wanted Jasper.

“Everything will fall into place,” you promised him, and he believed it, could feel it.

“It will, “he said, getting up from the couch. He held out a hand to you and grinned “But let’s get that arm taken care of before Alice starts planning a wedding.”

Amused that Jasper made a joke, you took his hand and got up. He stood tall and you leaned forward to kiss him gently on the lips, eyes closed. The world was swirling around the two of you and it felt like a beginning of something amazing, and you were sure it was going to be a wild ride – but one you were more than willing to take with the man in front of you.

“I would love a summer wedding.”

Jasper laughed and took your head, leading out the door. “I can’t stand in the sun.”

“Wait do you melt like that wicked witch?”

“No,” he chuckled. “That was water, but I do…sparkle.”

Leaving the living room, you yelped in delight as he smiled with utter amusement because he felt something he hadn’t in a long time; unfiltered happiness.

“Holy – you SPARKLE!”

#jasper x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #twilight

503 notes · View notes

missmentelle · 4 years

Note

Your posts are so informative and I was wondering if you could help me. I'm a BA psych student in a smallish town in canada and I'm considering applying to work in a womens homeless shelter. In the past I've worked in youth residential care and daycare, but this is a big step in another direction. What is it like working in a homeless shelter? When I talk to people in my class (who have never worked there) they just say it's dangerous and I shouldn't bother. But, I want to help women and youth who are more vulnerable in my community. But is it dangerous? Are your expected to work alone? At the youth residence, there was clear communication and there were always other staff around. I was so sure, before I started talking to others about it.

You have excellent timing, I just got home from a night shift at the youth shelter! (I’m picking up shifts at my organization’s youth homeless shelter while the whole org is short-staffed due to COVID, which is why you’ve been seeing a lot fewer posts from me lately. Doing swing shifts on top of my 9-5 is kicking my butt.)

I can’t say exactly what working at one particular shelter will be like, because every shelter does things a little bit differently - they all have different rules, schedules and policies. There are some things that they do tend to have in common, though. For instance, I would be absolutely shocked if any shelter made any staff member work alone. That’s unheard of in my experience. At every shelter I’ve ever visited or worked at, you will have several staff on shift at any given time, plus an on-site manager or supervisor to handle emergencies, or an on-call supervisor that you can phone for advice or direction if you aren’t quite sure what to do. My org’s shelter requires that there be a minimum of three staff on-site at all times (it’s a small shelter with less than two dozen beds), plus a supervisor either on-site or on-call. If you work at a shelter, you will have support (and if you don’t, you should quit and find another shelter that does).

At the shelter I’ve been helping out at, youth who arrive there are typically there for around a 2-3 month stay. Each youth gets their own private room (somewhat common in domestic violence, youth and family shelters, fairly uncommon in men’s shelters and general homeless shelters) and they are allowed to bring two bags of belongings with them. Youth are woken up in the morning, fed some breakfast (not all shelters will serve breakfast), and then the youth are required to be out of the building for most of the day (this is pretty much universal for homeless shelters, but many domestic violence and family shelters will not have this requirement).

During the day, shelter staff inspect rooms, write documentation, contact other professionals who are working with the youth, supervise any youth that are in the building due to extenuating circumstances (illness, night shift workers, etc), inform the incoming shift about last night’s activities, and prepare dinner. Youth return in the late afternoon, have dinner, do their chores, and are free to come and go until their curfew - they can meet with support staff for counselling, do homework in their rooms, watch TV, do their laundry, or just go out with their friends. There is a set time where they have to be in their rooms, and staff come around to check on youth a few times during the night. Then morning comes and it starts all over again. Many shelters run in a similar way, although there will be slight differences to their policies and procedures - some homeless shelters, for instance, do not give residents a “set” bed and require people to line up for beds on a first-come, first-served basis every night. It just depends on the individual place.

You will absolutely have to deal with some tough situations while working at a shelter. I would be lying if I told you otherwise. Note that “tough” does not always mean “violent” or “dangerous” - basically anything that can happen at a shelter will happen sometimes. You can have all sorts of medical, mental health, maintenance or general emergencies. This past month at the shelter, we’ve had everything from a broken washing machine flooding the basement to a youth arrested outside the building for throwing rocks at cars to a youth having a miscarriage. We did have one youth making violent threats against staff, and a few making threats to harm themselves. It’s a fast-paced work environment, and you can really never be sure what will happen. At my shift last night, we settled all the youth down in the lounge for a movie night with some popcorn and leftover Halloween candy and they all went to bed without incident. Other nights, I’ve been screamed at for having to enforce the rules, or I’ve had to call 911 because someone is violent and out of control. It’s impossible to say how any one shift will go.

I will say, though, that I’ve been in this field for 8 years now, and my organization has been around for almost 50 years, and in that time we’ve never had a staff member seriously injured by a client. I’ve actually never worked anywhere that has. The potential to be injured is there - you can get injured at any job - and I’ve been in some pretty tense situations, but I’ve never seriously feared for my life or my safety. At the shelter I’ve been working at, you are either with a team member or you have a team member watching you on the security cameras at all times, and they will immediately jump in to help the moment anything tense starts to happen. The only staff injury we’ve had this year was a staff member who cut herself while chopping vegetables for dinner. We all receive regular, comprehensive training in suicide prevention, crisis deescalation, non-violent crisis intervention, motivational interviewing and mental health first aid. Management is incredibly supportive. We are quick to call the local mobile crisis team or 911 if there is a situation we need help with. All staff carry either a cell phone or a panic button (a little plastic button that alerts 911 if you push it) so we can get help quickly if we need it. No one ever has to deal with anything alone.

Personally, I love working shifts at the shelter, and if you have any interest in working at one, I would say to go for it. You meet some of the most incredible people, both among the staff and residents. For every hard moment where you’re calling 911 or dealing with an emergency, you will also have funny, endearing human moments, like when we put on some music last night and the kids had a dance contest as they cleared away their dinner dishes, or when you finally get to help a resident move out of the shelter and into their first real apartment. You’ll also make some of the best friends you’ve ever had amongst your fellow staff - I am still in daily contact with old co-workers from every social services job I’ve ever had, even jobs that I left years ago. Working at a shelter can also be a great segue into other careers in social services - my org is very supportive of people who want to further their education, and many of the people in upper management started out as casual shift workers at the shelter. If nothing else, it’s a great way to learn more about how the system actually works, and to start thinking critically about what needs to be done to improve it. If I had to make up pros and cons for working at a shelter, it would be this (keep in mind this is my list, and things that are “pros” for me might be “cons” for you)” Pros:

fast-paced work environment

hands-on work, not just paperwork and desk work

unpredictable work environment, no routine or monotony

get a chance to use a variety of skill sets, from counselling to cooking

lots of ongoing training and professional development

get to make a difference to people in crisis

get to connect with all kinds of people and hear their stories

supportive and friendly co-workers, easy to make friends

great introduction to a life-long career

get to see how social work and metal health theory actually looks in practice

Cons:

shift work, shelters are open 24/7

sometimes have to deal with very serious emergencies

pay could be better

can be very tough to enforce rules, both emotionally and logisically

absolutely sucks to have to turn someone away

can be difficult to see people return to shelter after getting out, or to continue to get worse

sometimes required to do gross tasks, like cleaning up vomit

unpredictability means sometimes the worst things happens on days where you really just needed a quiet day

Honestly, I would not take advice from anyone who has never actually worked or resided in a shelter. A lot of people hold very unfair or discriminatory views toward the homeless, even if they claim not to hate homeless people, and someone who has never actually spent quality time watching the daily operations of a shelter has no business making statements about how “dangerous” it actually is. I know people who have spent their whole careers working at shelters and are still passionate about it and love what they do. If you want to give working in one a try, I would say absolutely go for it. Best of luck to you! MM

#Anonymous

23 notes · View notes

barnesandrogersfanfics · 4 years

Text

Saving Grace - Part 10

Summary: Steve leaves you and your son to go back to Peggy unaware your pregnant.

Your heartbroken and struggling without Steve until Bucky Barnes steps up to help you out. With you and Bucky growing closer everyday will he be your saving Grace?

A/N- This was meant to be more of a filler part but then ended up at 2000+ words! 😂😂 im not even sure how i feel about this part but here we go! Enjoy 💕

The Wednesday before Bucky and I were planning to head to the cabin, he was called in for a mission that required the whole team so it must have been pretty bad. He promised he would do his best to get back in time so we could still go up there, but i knew we'd just have to let things play out and see what happened.

It was now Friday evening and he still wasn't home, i hadn't heard from him since the Wednesday evening and i just wanted to know he was okay.

At around 10pm i decided to head to bed to try and get some sleep, at least then i wouldn't be constantly worrying about Bucky and the team. Grace was fast asleep in her bassinet beside the bed and Harrison was star-fished on Bucky's side of the bed snoring slightly....I couldn't help but smile at the sight. When I heard a noise from downstairs I shot up in the bed suddenly alert.

"Buck?" I called out quietly so i didnt wake the kids, i knew he'd still hear me even with how quiet i was. When i got no response i made my way out to the hallway looking down over the staircase railing. My heart started racing when i saw two dark figures moving around down there. I turned and silently rushed back to the bedroom locking the door behind me. I grabbed my cell phone from the bedside cabinet and called 911 as i rushed to my wardrobe to pull out the lockbox that held our guns.

"911 whats your emergency?" A woman answered my call, i quietly told her what was happening and gave her the address. She advised she would get someone over ASAP. I hung up and dialled the compounds private number hoping someone would answer, maybe they could get here quicker!

"Hello?" A man answered on the third ring, i didn't recognise who it was.

"Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N...."

"Oh hi Y/N its Roy, the night guard"

"Shit.... Roy is their anyone there you can send to my house now!?? there's men breaking in.... are any of the team or any SHIELD agents around?"

"Oh.... erm I'm not sure. Stay on the line and i will check real quick".

It felt like he was gone forever when it was only a few seconds.

"Y/N???!"

"Steve??! Oh thank god! There's men breaking in!!"

"What?!!"

"Two of them that i saw. Ive locked myself in the bedroom with the kids"

"Im on my way sweetheart just stay where you are. You have your gun?"

"Yeah, please hurry!" I said hanging up.

I carried Grace's bassinet into the ensuite bathroom and then went and got Harrison and took him in there too.

"Mama what you doing?" He asked sleepily rubbing at his eyes.

"Shhhh baby, i need you to stay in here with Grace and be very quiet okay?"

"Okay" he nodded and sat on the floor beside Grace's bassinet.

"Remember to stay very quiet, and dont come out until i say so" i closed the door and took the time to check my gun over. Oh god, what i would give to have Bucky home right now, he would have taken them out already without breaking a sweat! It had been years since i had retired from the Avenging life, the day i found out i was pregnant with Harrison was my last day on the job. All i was worried about was my kids getting hurt, what if i was too out of practise to defend myself against these intruders..... my internal panic was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I heard one of the doors open, the guest bedroom probably as that was closest to the stairs..... then the bathroom, Harrison's bedroom and then they stopped outside my room. The door handle jiggled as they tried to open it "over here!" I heard a man say before a loud thump on the door where he was obviously trying to bust the door open.

I stood to the side of the door gun aimed ready to fire when they made it through, because lets face it they would get through eventually!! I clicked off the safety and took some deep breaths trying to calm myself down. Suddenly the door gave way and the first figure stumbled into the dark room looking around, i aimed my gun at his leg and fired.... he yelled and fell to the floor as the bullet hit him in the thigh. The second figure dived at me pushing my arms up so my shot missed him. He knocked the gun from my hands and punched me hard in the face sending me to the floor.

"You okay?" He asked turning to his friend who was laying on the floor holding his leg.

"No!"

While he was distracted i turned to try and crawl to the where my gun had landed only for him to grab my ankle and pull me away. He reached down trying to grab me by the hair but i twisted round and kicked him away. He stumbled back crashing into the dresser looking surprised that i was fighting back. I rolled to my feet again as he tried to rush me, i dodged him easily suddenly remembering my days training with Nat and Steve. I got a few good hits in before he got a hold of me and threw me into my vanity table where i crashed into the mirror landing in the broken shards of the mirror. The man walked over looking proud of himself and he looked down at me.

"You put up a good fight i give you that" he laughed wiping blood from his split lip "I'm gonna enjoy this"

"Please stop..... why are you doing this?" I asked, Grace started crying in the bathroom and i could hear Harrison shh'n her.

"Well well well, what do we have here huh?" He grinned and started to walk towards the bathroom.

"No!!!!" I screamed and launched myself off the floor diving onto the man "you leave them alone!!" i tried to fight but i could feel the shards of broken mirror digging in various parts of my body. He tossed me aside again giving me a hard punch to the gut winding me and sending me to my knees.

"Get away from them!!" i yelled as he carried on towards the bathroom.

Another figure suddenly charged into the room crashing into the man and sending him flying into the wall so hard he was out cold on impact! I breathed a sigh of relief realising Steve had arrived.

"Y/N!" He fell to his knee's beside me "are you okay?"

"There's another guy, i shot him in the leg...."

"Looks like he bled out sweetheart"

"Check on the kids" i said pointing at the bathroom hearing Grace screaming "i dont want Harrison seeing me like this...."

"Okay" he nodded and walked over to the bathroom opening the door.

"Hey pal" i heard Steve say to Harrison "you doing okay in here?"

"Where's mama...."

"Im okay baby, just stay in there with your dad for me for a minute okay?"

"Hi sweet girl, your okay.... sshhh" i could hear Steve as he cradled Grace.

"Police department!" I suddenly heard someone yell from downstairs......great timing!!

"I still think you should have gone to the hospital Y/N or at least to the compound. See Dr Cho" Steve said as he pulled another piece of broken mirror from my back. The police had taken the body of the man i shot and arrested the surviving intruder, i had refused to go to the hospital though.... id had worse than this before.

"Im okay, its not serious. Looks worse than it is" i said holding a towel full of ice to my face.

"Some of these are pretty deep, their gonna need stitches...."

"Then stitch them up!" I snapped at him "god Steve, its not like it would be the first time!"

"Your right it wouldn't, but we were in the field with no option but for me to stitch you up! Now we can get you proper medical care!"

I dropped my face into my hands as i began to cry, i couldn't hold it in any more. The adrenaline was wearing off and now the shock was setting in.

"I just want Bucky" i sobbed, i felt Steve tense up at the mention of Bucky's name before he carefully wrapped his arms around me.

"I know sweetheart, i've tried calling him and the rest of the team. I left a message"

"Where are the kids?"

"In Harrisons room, Grace is sleeping and Harrison was watching cartoons"

"I dont know what i would have done if they had been hurt!.... if you hadnt of showed up when you did Steve...."

"Dont think about that, i did show up and they are fine!" He said with a smile wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

"Thank you Steve, i mean it"

"You dont need to thank me sweetheart"

"Y/N!!!" I heard Bucky's frantic voice yell before his thundering footsteps on the stairs.

"Bucky" i sighed in relief. Within seconds he was in the room and pulling me into his arms, Wanda and Sam appearing seconds behind him.

"Ow Buck careful" i said wincing as his arm pressed into one of the shards still in my back.

"Doll why aren't you at the hospital!?"

"She refused to let me take her, you know how stubborn she can be" Steve rolled his eyes.

"Id be fine if you'd stop bitching and just stitch me up!"

"Okay come on, let me take a look. Wanda, can you check on the kids please?"

"Their fine Buck i made sure...." Steve started to say but she turned and went anyway.

"You wanna fill me in on what happened here?" Sam said to Steve looking pissed.

"Sure".

Once in the bathroom Bucky carefully removed my tank top to get a better look at my wounds.

"Baby some of these are really bad...."

Bucky said as his fingers gently traced over my back.

"Just do it Buck, I'm not going to the hospital! I can take it"

"Okay" he sighed pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. Bucky spent the next 15 minutes or so pulling shards of mirror from my back and some in my left arm. He stitched one pretty deep wound, the rest he just cleaned and covered with bandages. Once he was done he wrapped me in his arms holding me close.

"I was so scared Buck" i mumbled against his chest "i just wanted you. I knew if you were here we'd be fine"

"I know doll, me too. When i got that message from Steve...." he shook his head "i could have lost you today, you and the kids.... i could have lost my family"

"You didn't though, we're fine"

"Your not fine! look at what that son of a bitch did to you!"

"It could have been a lot worse, i got lucky. I never thought id be so happy to see Steve again..... the guy was going for the kids Bucky and i couldn't stop him.....Steve just came out of nowhere"

"Im sure you did everything you could baby"

"I tried, but the truth is I'm out of practice. I haven't been in a fight or even picked up a gun since i found out i was pregnant with Harrison"

"You did good!" Bucky smiled leaning down and gently kissing me, i hissed slightly feeling the sting of the split lip from the punch id received and he quickly apologised.

"Guess this puts a stop to our weekend at the cabin huh? I cant even kiss you!" I moaned.

"We'll go as soon as you feel better i promise, we've waited this long right?"

"I guess so, i was just really looking forward to it"

"Oh me too! But i can wait".

Saving Grace tags: @jennmurawski13 @kenzieam

@captainchrisstan @s-t-r-i-k-e-us @lets--be-honest

@ms-betsy-fangirl @damnaged-princess

@farfromtommy @disneylovingal @lbuck121

@billweasleey @rynabarnesrogers

@heathens-takeitsl0w @lacontroller1991

@supervengerslock @barnesandrogersworld

@mariswritingforfun @perpetually-tuned-out

@thummbelina @marvelousstyles @broco8

@ineffableg-irl @ilovesupersoldiers

@writeroutoftime

#bucky x reader #steve x reader #sebastian stan #chris evans #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #winter soldier #captain america #reader insert #saving grace

313 notes · View notes

notgonnarememberthis · 4 years

Text

A Compromising Engagement - Chapter 5

Inspiration strikes out of nowhere but here we are! Honestly I got this idea while on a trip a while back. It’s been sitting in my head for a minute but FINALLY the ideas started flowing. Once I get conversations in my head THEN I know it’s time to begin writing. Honestly, getting inspiration for this was rough recently because I have a new fic idea that absolutely will not leave my head. I was trying to force myself to think for this one instead so I could finish a work first but that’s literally the worst idea when you’re trying to write something. Once I stopped pressuring myself, BOOM, idea. I also had to watch an episode to get their voices straight in my head again but that’s another story. Hope y’all are staying safe!

Watson settles into her seat eyes piercing the suspect across from her. The woman is eerily familiar to her, a pompous air that resonates from her very being. An attitude calling that she can’t be caught.

The case is a rough one, triple homicide with no solid evidence. Even what they managed to obtain from witnesses is circumstantial at best. The woman knows that without a confession, she’d slide by in court. Enough money for a good lawyer and an alibi that she didn’t trust. She’d been at this for an hour and she’s growing weary. There’s absolutely no security footage of her where she claimed to be. It simply doesn’t make sense.

A scream cuts her question short. She leaps up into action, medical instincts taking over as people outside the door call for 911. She grabs the door handle only for it to remain still in her hand. She tries again and again only for the realization to dawn on her that she’s locked inside. “Sherlock?” She calls to her partner who should be just on the other side of the mirror. “Sherlock let me out so I can help!” Her heart sinks when there’s no response. “Marcus?” Again, nothing. “Abreu? Coventry?” Nobody’s on the other side. Great.

She pounds on the door hoping to catch somebody’s attention. “Someone! Let me out! I can help!” She shouts. A chuckle behind her sends a chill down her spine. Her eyes flash back to the woman in the handcuffs, Elana March sits where the woman once was. A wicked grin spreads across her face.

Action settles into her as she pulls out the keychain Kitty gifted her for her birthday. She presses the blunt end against the two way mirror turning her head as the spike inside shatters the glass. She hoists herself through the new opening, adrenaline rushing too fast to feel the glass likely piercing her palms. She reaches for the door only for it to stubbornly stay in place yet again. She looks through the window in the door hoping to catch anyone passing, even in a rush to assist but what catches her eyes sends her into full blown panic.

Two cups of coffee spill across the precinct floor. Marcus is leaning over an all to familiar form giving manic chest compressions. “Sherlock!” All sense leaves her as she slams her shoulder into the door, trying desperately to force it to swing open. “Sherlock!” She cries his name, tears spilling down her cheeks. A scream rips through her when Marcus sits back on his feet, grief consuming his expression.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She shoots out of bed with a strangled gasp desperately trying to catch her breath. It takes her mind a second to catch up to her surroundings. A shadow passes across her room and her body moves unconsciously fetching her singlestick from her bedside drawer. She’s not quick enough, however, as the looming figure catches her wrist midswing.

“Watson!” Sherlock shouts, snapping her out of her state. He sits on her bed in front of her, worry etched into his face. She disguards her singlestick flicking on her lamp.

Her chest is still heaving from adrenaline as she tries to piece together what happened. “Why are you in here?” His brows furrow, confused.

“You were screaming my name.” His knees bounce trying to rid of the remaining anxiety in his own way. “I thought you were in danger.”

Her eyes close in both embarrassment and realization. Her nightmares had been recurrent since that night she stood up to Morland. They all ended the same with someone she cared about dead by the hands of someone she and/or Sherlock helped put away. This one, however, was the worst of the bunch. “You’re hurt.” His right hand is held close to him but she can tell he’s bleeding.

“I was doing an experiment when I heard you scream. I wasn’t careful getting out of it but it’s fine. Merely a scratch.”

“Let me look at it.”

“Watson.” He tries to bat her off again but she only looks at him. A look that tells him that she needs this right now. He obediently follows her to the bathroom for supplies and better lighting.

Once in there she determines that he is correct. It’s a painful cut but stitches are not necessary, thankfully. An apology is on the edge of her tongue when he speaks up instead.

“What was the dream about?” She tenses not wishing to explain. Not when she’s had so many in the course of two weeks. He’d understand, of course he’d understand. The answer is simple.

“Make sure you wash this so it doesn’t get infected. I’ll go clean up the mess from the experiment.”

He catches her wrist as she tries to walk away. His grip is more gentle than before, his eyes begging her to talk to him. “Joan.” Her name makes her breath catch and for a moment, she wants to tell him everything. How she’s been extra on edge since Morland’s threat to remove his ‘extra security’ if there ever even was such a thing. It did its job, however, as she always brings her singlestick on cases now. She wants to tell him about how she’s worried he’ll take their whole livelihood away in one fell swoop. She knows he supports what she said that night, yet parts of her wish she could just take it back. Taking it back, however, would mean not standing up for Sherlock and that’s absolutely not an option.

“I’m fine.” She insists instead. It’s easier than explaining what he already probably knows.

He doesn’t push, thankfully. He only nods slightly with a sad smile. “Very well. I’ll clean up my mess. You get some rest, we have lunch with your family tomorrow, remember?”

“My mother won’t let me forget.” She jokes halfheartedly. He relaxes slightly at the return of the banter and it’s enough for now. She sulks back to her room hoping to reach a point where she’s tired enough to fall in a dreamless sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sherlock keeps his eyes on her the next day. The rest of the night he’d kept quiet, listening for even the slightest cry. When none came he assumed she’d managed to fall into a peaceful sleep and resumed his experiment. However, when she came down the steps ready for lunch it’s more than clear to him that she hadn’t slept any more at all.

He makes no mention of it, only making her a cup of coffee before they set out which she gratefully accepted. She hides her exhaustion well with others but he’s more than familiar with it by now. With his habits of waking her up early he’s recognized her patterns at different levels of needing sleep. He tries to curb his concern when she drags her feet across the kitchen floor. He bites his tongue when she catches herself going to rub her eyes for the third time only stopping to not ruin her makeup concealing the dark circles under her eyes. He rocks when he has to repeat himself several times when she misses something he says about the experiment he’d conducted the night prior. She’s far too tired, is what he concludes. A type of tired where if they had a case he’d wait another hour before waking her lest he be on the wrong end of a snap in her exhaustion.

“You ready?” Her head lifts following the sound of his voice. He wishes he could give her more time for her coffee to kick in but they’re behind as is.

“Remind me why we scheduled this again? As if that brunch with my mother was bad enough now we have to answer to Oren, Grace, and Lin?”

“Come to recall I don’t believe Lin gave us a choice in the matter.”

“Right.” She chuckles dryly. “Let’s go.”

The ride to the restaurant is blissfully long. It gives Watson the time she needs to wake and him time to think. Not that he hadn’t done it all night but paired with the opportunity to observe Watson, it’s beneficial at least. She no longer seems shaken by the events of the night prior, also not shocking as Watson in the past has pushed back emotions for the lack of confrontation.

Everyone is already seated when they arrive at the restaurant. Sherlock places a hand at the base of Watson’s back for the appearance but stays back when she goes in to hug her family. He waves politely pulling out Watson’s seat before taking his own.

Conversation flows naturally with the Watson family, all things given. She seems to forget her exhaustion as they discuss how they’ve all been recently, though she does order a coffee with her meal.

“I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement through mom.” Oren laughs. Watson shifts in her seat a little only offering an apologetic smile.

“At least you found out through someone.” Lin challenges, “I found out via the engagement party invitation.”

“And she will never let me hear the end of it.” Watson shrugs. “Truthfully we were going to keep it a secret for the sake of professionalism and the danger in our jobs.”

Lin gasps, a realization hitting her. “Did you never tell Marcus?”

��No, we didn’t.” Sherlock provides biting the inside of his cheek.

“He’s going to flip when he hears about it. I mean, the whole precinct had a pool deciding when you two were going to get together but engaged?”

“They had a what?” Watson sits up a little straighter, “How do you know about this?”

“I’m the confirmation for when you two finally get together.” He and Watson both share a look of alarm.

“Did you tell anyone?” He asks, Watson’s hand grabs his leg under the table. He’s not sure if he’s grounding her or the other way around. The entire precinct knowing about their ‘engagement’ would complicate things in unimaginable ways. They’d already lied to Hannah at the gala. If that were to get out they’d be dealing with more than minor knowing looks from coworkers but actual anger and hurt from Bell and Gregson both. Dealing with wedding questions from family was bad enough. In the workplace? Sherlock can only grab her wrist in return in order to keep himself from spiraling.

“Of course not. I got Joan’s message loud and clear that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. Nobody has even asked recently so you’re off the hook.”

They both breathe a sigh of relief. He lets her go but Watson’s hand remains, though relaxing her grip. He’s caught by how natural the position feels. Simply holding each other was an action he’d never thought he’d find so comforting yet her hand just above his knee curbs his anxieties he’d been feeling having to pretend. They’re partners, afterall, how much pretending did they really need?

The rest of lunch is unremarkable at best. Discussion of wedding ideas fended off with excuses over how busy they’ve been with work. Lin threatened to plan for them and for a moment it didn’t sound like a horrible idea until he thought of how long that guest list would be.

He shakes his head when that thought truly settled in. How long had he been thinking like this engagement was real? Thoughts of actual weddings and Watson going dress shopping as if that weren’t something Mary and the whole Watson clan in general wouldn’t want to be involved with.

“I think I broke him.” Lin teases gently. He’s more than used to her at this point but he’s certainly overwhelmed. Watson squeezes his knee pulling his gaze to her.

“It’s ok.” She coaxes with a smile that could calm him instantly, “We’ll figure it out.” He offers her a small smile, if only she knew what he was trying to figure out.

When they say their goodbyes his hand reaches for Watson’s, his fingers interlacing with hers as they make their way to the car. Even as the climb in the back of a cab his hand covers hers in the drive finding the comfort he yearns for in the simple touch. He didn’t realize how badly he needed it until she climbed out when they arrived home and her touch was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He almost forgets about Watson’s nightmare in the panic that gripped his mind for the rest of the night. It’s not until Watson lingers in his doorway, her face more vulnerable than she lets most view her as, that he remembers the encounter. She schools her emotions so well most days.

“Any new cases?” Her voice sounds pleading and tired.

“I thought you’d be reading your book right now.”

“I finished it last night.” She admits with a sigh.

“Unfortunately nothing. It appears all the interesting murders have taken a holiday.” He jests, “I’d say let's take a trip to New York City but I believe they’re not quite keen on having me back any time soon.”

“Well you did lick what they thought was a deadly poison and made an officer faint.”

“Anyone with a sense of smell knew that it was italian dressing Watson.” She looks away when he meets her gaze. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

“Clearly not.” She shifts her weight from left to right and back again.

“You died.” He rears back, almost shocked that she relented so easily. “I was stuck in interrogation with a suspect and I heard screaming. I was locked inside and I couldn’t get out. I saw you on the ground. Marcus just stopped trying to save you. Nobody could hear me and I could’ve helped, I know I could but.” He’s up easily and in two steps he’s wrapped his arms around her. Her hands freeze in the air but when he holds her tighter she relents trembling in his arms like he could make it all stop.

“It’s alright.” He whispers into her hair. “I’m ok.” He feels her nod into his shoulder. He’s more than familiar with these nightmares, however. No amount of words can shake that uneasiness they bring. “Was this the only one?”

Her silence is enough of an answer as is.

“Only me?”

She tightens her grip but he can feel the just barely there shake of her head. “We saw your family today. They’re happy, if a tad relentless in pushing us to plan our fake wedding.” He feels her shoulders shake: a laugh, that’s good. “Kitty and Archie are likely cuddled up together after watching a Disney movie that Kitty pretends not to like but we both know she’s a secret softie hm?” A nod. “As for me. Well, you can stay in my bed if you’d like that way I’m right here if you need me.”

She stiffens and for a moment he believes he’s gone too far. She lets out an agonizingly long breath contemplating his offer. She swallows heavily, nodding more distinctly this time. It’s slow, almost giving herself the opportunity to change her mind. He guides her to the bed laying down first, controlling his breathing tightly so as to not make the smallest move that could scare her off.

She looks so small as she crawls in beside him. This woman that he associates with so much strength looking so vulnerable in this moment. He wishes he could take her pain on as his own. He’d do it in a second if he could. He opens an arm making the silent offer to her. A small smile that he hopes tells her if she doesn’t need it she doesn’t have to take it.

He has to force himself not to stop breathing when her head settles on his bare chest where she can listen to his racing heart. Her hand comes to rest on the base of his ribs content to just feel like slight expansion and contraction of his breathing. His own hand settles on her back, content to spell out meaningless formulas and ludicrous patterns until she’s lulled into a deep restful sleep.

He listens to her slow even breaths as his eyes drift closed.

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

@tamarknott @averageinside

#joanlock #sherlock holmes x joan watson #sherlock x joan #a compromising engagement #elementary #elementary cbs #elementary AU #joan watson #Sherlock Holmes #lin deserves all the love ok #timeline #what timeline #Fake marriage au #fake engagement au #is watson out of character #yes #am i going to change it #no #its about the domesticity

22 notes · View notes