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prettyyyboyluke · 2 years

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Dream Girl

older sister !y/n with with young sister best friend!luke

luke was over at jessie and y/n’s house, a lot. they all were. their best friend, jessie, and her older sister, y/n, live together on a house off campus. when the boys first heard this, they weren’t excited. but now that their house is like a second home, they love being there. jessie is having a kickback tonight with the guys and a couple of their other friends.

y/n had just turned 21, and jessie was using it to her full advantage, but y/n didn’t mind. she would do the same thing too. “okay, i got everything for you guys, and then i treated myself to edibles. so, i’ll just be up in my room coloring high.” y/n says, grabbing her bag out of the bag holding all their liquor in.

jessie had everyone get their house ready for their friends. y/n had gotten out of the shower and came to help set up the bar station that she put luke in charge of. when jessie and the guys had graduated from high school, y/n threw then a party and mixed their drinks that she learned during her freshman year.

her hair was wet, dripping down her flannel. he could smell the lotion she just put on, and how her skin was still slick. her lashes were curled up and her eyes were red and glossy. y/n loved showering high. she had LED lights in her bathroom that she liked to fade, she listened to her favorite rainy day playlist, which was mostly the entire Twilight Saga sound track.

“okay lu, i set everything up, and the extra bottles are under the sink. i don’t think you’ll need them, though.” y/n said, wiping down the counter one last time. she grabbed his arm as she walked by him. “please keep my house clean, it’ll throw off my routine.” y/n says to the guys before going upstairs.

y/n was more like their mom, and jessie was more like their dad. jessie was very go with the flow, didn’t care if a couple things were out of place. where y/n liked things to be in order, everything had to be spotless, and wouldn’t feel finished until everything was in it’s place.

their night was going well. y/n didn’t receive any texts from anyone, so she knew someone was keeping everyone in check. no one came to bother her either, which was a little strange, someone always knocks at least once. y/n had just door dashed some food, and her order arrived. she opens her door and sees luke in the hallway. “what are you doing up here?” she asks.

luke turns around and faces y/n, “i was using jessie’s bathroom. the ones downstairs are occupied.” he says. y/n nods her head and starts to walk again, “where are you going?” luke asks.

“to get food.” y/n answers.

“you cannot drive anywhere y/n.” luke says, stopping her from the stairs.

“relax, lu. i door dashed it.” y/n says looking into his eyes. luke lets go of her wrist and follows her down the stairs. y/n says hi to everyone before getting her food. she goes back upstairs for the rest of the night. she has her playlist running, fairy lights on, along with her LEDs fading between pastel colors. she also had her defuser on, lemon grass filling the air.

jessie texted her saying that their other friends had left, and the guys are spending the night. y/n asked if everything was cleaned up before putting her phone back on do not disturb. she had bought more coloring books, and she was running through them. her therapist had encouraged her to color to help calm her anxiety and depressive episodes. she bought one with flowers, one with quotes, and one with dinosaurs.

she had just started her dinosaur book, and she was so excited. y/n works at a daycare, and one of her kids love dinosaurs. so, she colors with him during their free time. y/n also had just bought new coloring markers. she was just about to start when she heard a knock on her door. “come in!” she shouted.

luke slipped through her door. “i wanted to see if i could color with you, i know you just got new books.” luke asks. y/n smiles up at luke.

“yes you can come color, but you have to follow my rules,” y/n laughs. she moves over on her bed so luke could squeeze in. “i got this one, its dinosaurs. so, color inside the lines, and if you want to be one of those bitches i hated in elementary school, you can color dark on the outside and light on the inside.” she explains.

y/n starts at the top of the page and luke starts at the bottom. she asks him how the kickback was and how drunk jessie got. jessie liked to drink more than smoke. luke smoked a couple times, all of them being with y/n. she knew how to take care of him, and he liked that. “do you have any more edibles left?” luke asks.

“yeah, do you want one?” she says, sitting up and leaning over to grab her bag. luke nods and she hands him one. she grabs another for herself, and they do a quick cheers and take the gummy. y/n lays back down and wraps her legs around luke’s. “i wanna color this one, he gives me yellow vibes.” she says, pointing to the dinosaur.

they colored for what felt like hours. luke looked over and y/n was fast asleep, her marker still in her hand. small snores came from her mouth every now and then. luke didn’t move at all, he didn’t wanna disturb her. she herd her music drift and woke up. “sorry, my eyes were getting really heavy.” she whispers, rubbing her eyes.

she sits up and takes a sip of water and applies chapstick. luke sits up with her, checking his phone. y/n gets up and hangs up her flannel, now standing in a white crop top and her new purple plaid pj pants. her hair was still wet, and she brushed and applied some product in it. she grabs her phone and changes the music, and changing her lights to a soft, yet sensual purple.

she gets back on the bed, taking the coloring book and her markers into her lap. she continues her coloring. luke moves closer into her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, letting his fingers dance along her arm. she’s so concentrated, she doesn’t even realize her forehead is wrinkly. she finishes her page perfectly. “look at him! he looks so happy!” she exclaims softly, looking up at luke.

luke looks down at her, his eyes drifting to her lips. y/n leans up and luke leans down. he places his hand on her cheek, and brings her lips into his. y/n pulls back only for luke to chase after her. he brings her into his lap, her hair falling into her face. she pulls off and puts it behind her back. she’s breathing hard, her lips touching luke’s, but never fully kissing him.

luke’s hands travel up y/n’s thighs, going up the sides of her hips. y/n traces his arms, grabbing the edge of his shirt, and bringing it above his head. she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and moves herself up higher on luke’s lap. he groans when she moves back over his bulge.

“please, lu, touch me,” y/n whispers. luke moves his hand so it’s between y/n’s thighs. he cups her heat, moving his thumb in circles over her clit. she moves her hips against his thumb. her head is thrown back and her mouth hung open. she grabs luke’s wrist, holding it still so she can move at her own pace.

y/n stops to catch her breath, her legs closing around luke’s hand. luke kisses her, hard. y/n starts moving his jeans down his legs, along with his boxers. she gets off luke’s lap and takes the tip of his cock into her mouth. her tongue moves around his tip, getting sloppy with it. she takes him fully in her mouth, her nose pressed against his pelvic bone. she looks up at luke only to see his head thrown back and mouth hung open, much like she was earlier.

as much as he wants to cum on y/n’s pretty face, he’d rather be deep inside of her. he pulls her off her cock and lays her down on the bed. luke takes off the rest of his pants, before starting on y/n’s. she took her crop top off while luke was taking off his pants. he dips his fingers into the waist band of her paints and takes them down her legs. he pulls her thighs apart, leaning down to kiss her.

luke takes y/n’s panties off, and pulling back to look at her. y/n spits on her fingers and spreads it across her pussy. she guides luke cock inside her, gasping when she feels him inside her wet walls. luke moves his hips back and forth, holding y/n’s thighs back against her stomach. y/n’s arms are bent with her hands towards her face, she’s feeling so much she doesn’t have the strength to grip her comforter.

y/n starts to knock her knees together, pushing against luke’s cock. she sits up on her elbows, looking at the erotic scene down below her. moans are falling from her lips, she tries her best to bite back, but fails every time. “don’t stop, please,” she begs.

luke moves harder, still keeping his same pace. y/n’s now on her back, gripping the comforter. her hips are rolling into luke’s, her clit brushing against his pelvic bone. “just like that, angel, use my cock,” luke grunts. luke wants to still himself and paint y/n’s walls white, but he wants to watch her cum first. he leans down so her legs are now over his shoulders, connecting their lips, and rubbing her clit. y/n moans loudly into luke’s mouth.

y/n pulls back, letting out the sweetest moan to luke. “yes, lu, please i want it,” y/n moans. her body stills as she lets herself give luke everything she had. luke’s still moving inside her, chasing his own high. when y/n whimpers about being sensitive, he reaches his peak. he’s gripping her hips so hard, she’ll have bruises in the morning.

she pushes back on luke, so his cock and cum spill out. y/n dips her fingers into her pussy and brings it up to her mouth, tasting her and luke. she sits up and grabs luke’s cheeks and brings him down to her. she’s smiling into the kiss, running her hands through his curls. luke runs one of his hands down y/n’s body, feeling goosebumps every time he traces over her skin. she gasps when he touches her was it, moving her hips back.

“my frat boys aren’t gonna be happy once they know about you.” y/n giggles.

“you’re my dream girl.”

#luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings preference #luke hemmings 5 seconds of summer smut #luke hemmings 5 seconds of summer preference #luke hemmings 5 seconds of summer imagine #luke hemmings 5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings 5sos smut #luke hemmings 5sos imagine #luke hemmings 5sos preference #luke hemmings #luke smut #luke preference #luke imagine #luke #lh

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 3 years

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fic title: the girl with flowers in her bones

Izumi learns she has a Quirk age six when the weird bump on her shoulder is inspected by a doctor who cuts it open to reveal a pretty flower.

Said flower quickly changed and becomes deadly, nearly killing a nurse before it’s destroyed.

No one knows how it got there but now people know about it. At first Izumi is happy. She has a Quirk.

Then she isn’t.

“It’s a useless Quirk!” Kacchan taunts her. “Perfect for a useless girl like you! Flowers under the skin! Pathetic!”

Kacchan burns her shoulder and she goes home crying.

Later a flower develops where she’s been burned and after some quiet conversation with Inko about how her husband had left because of Izumi’s Quirkless status and Izumi had heard it, they figured it out.

The flowers bloom when someone hurts her. They bloom and the doctors do a scan revealing many more flowers all over her- some were small and no one could see them. Little hurts the doctors theorized.

They still had to be removed. Izumi has been getting slower, becoming more exhausted each day. It’s the flowers.

Izumi numbly lets it happen.

But it happens again. And again.

Flowers bloom because people keep hurting her. They turn deadly when exposed to the air.

“Freak, monster, liar-“ it’s all shouted at her by her class. Kacchan leads the charge.

His flowers are always an orange lily. Hatred.

Izumi wonders if it means him or her who hates the other. When it becomes a sweet pea, she has a feeling she knows why she is receiving a goodbye.

She stops growing flowers for him. Because she knows she will only get pain from him, because he is no longer one she believes to be a friend.

“The flowers are signs of betrayal,” she changes the classification. “I can only be hurt by those I do not think would hurt me, those I trust. Once I stop trusting or believing they will not hurt me the flowers stop.”

Her mother sobs upon hearing it. Inko then goes and terrifies the Bakugou family, promising that unless Kacchan leaves her alone Inko would go after them.

Kacchan doesn’t listen.

So Inko slaps them with a lawsuit she wins. It’s enough for Izumi to go to a new school where she sits quietly and doesn’t talk.

There people whisper still but it’s sad whispers.

“Her Quirk hurts her.”

“No, it’s people hurting her which sets off her Quirk.”

“She’s so quiet.”

Izumi just works. The only one she trusts is her mother. Inko who tries so hard not to hurt her, who is honest and open. Who gives her books on flowers and smiles.

When Inko hurts Izumi she leaves violets and lavender. And they’re always small, so small. Small hurts, being too honest with her daughter.

Izumi loves her mother for it.

Izumi grows and soon she finds herself applying for UA. She wants to be a hero and her mother frets and admits she isn’t sure if Izumi can do but the two have researched and researched and well, they think they can figure a way out. Sports festival- she just needs to beat all the other students.

She thinks she can. The money they won from the lawsuit had helped Izumi not only get into a new school but also got her into a martial arts studio. Her mother insisted.

Probably was upset with how many flowers Izumi grew from cuts and burns and bruises. Those were the bigger ones, when they were left on purpose. They pushed against the skin, looked strange.

Funny, Izumi noticed that she didn’t gain flowers sparring.

“It’s probably based on intention. When you gain flowers from bruises or cuts and they’re from people doing it to hurt you and betray you, they come as flowers. But when it’s done as a fight or a spar it’s on purpose still but it’s not a betrayal of yourself.” Her Quirk therapist theorizes.

It makes sense.

Izumi goes to UA after failing the entrance exam and ends up in 1C where she finds herself meeting a boy who is like her. Sharp and broken and hurt.

Shinsou is a friend and she finds herself chuckling at his comments.

Their friendship only blooms truly though when she meets Kacchan again. He sees her and attacks, screaming. She fights back. Shinsou speaks and stops Kacchan and Izumi looks at him, seeing something similar back.

The situation ends with Izumi in the principal’s office telling her story. She looks him in the eyes tiredly.

Kacchan is removed from UA- apparently, the lawsuit hadn’t been included in his application.

“It was when he was ten!” His mother tries.

“It still happened and you lied,” Nezu tells her. Izumi isn’t supposed to be there but she went to the office to pick up some papers.

She thinks her homeroom teacher arranged it.

“The papers are supposed to show us if we need to watch out students for anything. You lied on the application.”

Izumi doesn’t know what to think as she slides away. She hasn’t seen Kacchan in years. Hasn’t spoken to him.

Yet he still tried to attack her. He hasn’t learned anything.

Izumi has left him behind. The pain he caused ended any relationship between them.

He is a child. He can learn, if he wishes.

She feels as if she is choking when she runs into someone.

“Ah,” the person says and she blinks at a girl with red and white hair. It’s long and in a braid as she stares at Izumi. There’s a burn scar on her face and as Izumi looks into her eyes she sees the same sort of pain Izumi has.

The girl nods and leaves and Izumi stares after her in confusion.

Then she has to head to class and Shinsou and it’s a mess.

A flower blooms under her cheek as she speaks and she wonders if it’s from the shock someone attacked her at UA or it’s because she always hoped Kacchan would change the longer she left him.

“It’s not the same.” She tells Shinsou. “I was in hell until I was ten and then just isolated after.”

“It’s close,” Shinsou tells her. He touches her cheek and she closes her eyes. “It’s growing?”

“Yeah. It used to be orange lilies. It might be the same now.”

It is. It’s removed by Recovery Girl and Izumi breathes and doesn’t try to think.

She doesn’t know what to think about anything.

She thinks in a way that expelling him was to much. She understands that they lied, that they removed the evidence of the trial. But did they truly know that it counted?

Kacchan is a child and needs to learn things.

At the same time, he tried to attack her.

Her mind feels muddled and confused and Shinsou tries to help but it’s different for him. His bullies were cruel and never stopped and yet he never expected it either to stop.

You can only be betrayed by a friend.

He tries but they fight and eventually he yells that she’s worthless if she wishes to let a boy who hurts her back into UA.

She flinches and he does too.

Shinsou reaches for her but she leaves, feeling sick.

Izumi wanders UA campus after that- a week after the Kacchan incident- a week after the USJ got invaded. With Kacchan in the office the class hadn’t gone to USJ, something all of them expresses relief about.

Izumi wanders and then runs into the red and white girl again. She’s training in the gym that all students are allowed to Izumi wandered to it out of habit. Usually she and Shinsou train- Shinsou finally accepting that he needs to train his body.

He’s not with her though, and she feels her shoulder ache.

Shinsou didn’t mean it, he was angry and didn’t understand. Izumi gets it.

But it still was a hurt.

“... are you okay?” The girl asks and Izumi blinks, realizing she’s been standing in the gym staring off into space.

“I’m fine.” She says. “I got into a fight with my friend.” The girl looks at her and Izumi sighs.

“My Quirk lets me know when I’ve been hurt,” Izumi explains. “The hurts become flowers under my skin. Ever hurt, physical, emotional, mental, minor or major.” Izumi sighs.

“... you were the one Bakugou attacked, the reason we did not go to the USJ.,” The girl says calmly.

“We were friends once. He hurt me badly, and we stopped. He tried again, my mom sued him and his family and they didn’t put the trial in his transcripts. So he’s been expelled and I just… I feel bad for him. He’s hurt me but I cared for him once and is it fair that he was a child when this happened and he’s still himself a child?” Izumi sighs. “Sorry. I-“

“I have similar feelings to my brother and mother.” The girl offers. Her face is slightly blank. She looks at Izumi, cocking her head slightly. “My father is not a nice man and he’s only stopped hurting us due to blackmail my eldest brother has given. I’m under the custody of my second eldest brother. My other siblings were deemed unsuited and my mother is in a mental health institute.”

“Oh!” Izumi blinks. “You didn’t-“

“You told me.” The girl shrugs. “I’m Todoroki Shouto.”

“Midoriya Izumi.”

It’s the start of something.

From the hurt Shinsou dealt jasmine is dug from Izumi’s skin and he apologizes over and over again. She tells him it’s not okay but she understands he didn’t truly mean it.

It makes her sad still.

She and Todoroki meet from time to time in the gym, speaking. Sometimes Shinsou joins them, sometimes not. He wishes to keep his Quirk private, wishing to get into the hero course like Izumi wishes.

Todoroki is kind, Izumi finds. She’s standoffish and blunt but she’s kind.

Her story is a sad one, told over gym meetings. Her father is Endeavour and he wished to overcome All Might. He had children to force it, and the abuse he placed his family through broke her mother.

Todoroki loves her mother. She loves her dearly but cannot face her.

“I used to blame myself, thinking it might be my fault she burned me. Natsuo, my brother, he got me into therapy and I’ve learned it wasn’t. I was a child, it was not on me. And yet my mother is ill.” Todoroki explains. “I care deeply for her but… I can’t face her right now. Because I have learned it is not my fault what she did and I have to adjust.”

Her brother, her eldest brother Touya, is a different story.

“He blamed me for the abuse. Said it was all my fault, hated the fact I was a girl too. Kept going on I was a screw-up, that I was disgusting. He’s in therapy to now but… I don’t talk to him. Ever if I can help it. Natsuo says he’s getting better but he won’t make me do anything. My sister keeps trying to get us to forgive our dad. We don’t want to.” Todoroki tells her. “It’s a mess.”

Todoroki doesn’t know what to do herself. Her brother was young when he became angry, and her mother ill. Neither were fully at fault, and yet she struggles.

It’s nice to talk to someone who understands.

Their friendship grows and Izumi wonders why it feels different then from her and Shinsou.

Yet as she watches Todoroki smile, she thinks she knows.

At the sports festival, Izumi and Shinsou manage to get to the tournament. They manage to claw their way to the semi-finals, determining who will go on to compete for first.

Shinsou insults her, curses her. And then he confesses.

Izumi keeps her mouth shut and shoved him out, even as she feels the flowers begin to bloom.

She does tell him she doesn’t feel the same.

“I know,” Shinsou tells her. “It’s Todoroki. You two smile all the time around each other, you laugh and have fun.” He shrugs sadly. “I just wanted to be honest.

Izumi accepts it, and later she finds the flowers to be yellow tulips.

One-sided love.

Yet first comes the finals, where Izumi screams at Todoroki to use her fire, even as the girl refuses to use it.

“I won’t use his power!” She yells.

“It’s not his! It’s yours!” Izumi cries back.

It’s chaos and destruction and in the end, Izumi has a silver medal.

And she has a smile she treasures.

It’s not love, not yet. But it has a chance to be.

A chance they cultivate, a chance they find becoming stronger and stronger as time goes on. As she and Shinsou enter the hero course, as she fights to protect a boy she barely knows on the streets of Hosu, protecting her hero mentor as well.

It’s a chance she takes, kissing Todoroki after the final exams. Todoroki accidentally burns her in shock and feels horrible.

Izumi treasures the fact a red rose blooms under her skin.

#bnha #bnha au #fic title ask game #lesbian izuku #they're lesbians #tododeku #anti bakugou

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walkerismychoice · 3 years

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Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish. My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

"How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

“I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

#QOMH #TRR #drake x mc #ns*fw #playchoices fanfiction #the royal romance #my fic

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overkill-max · 3 years

Text

Wedding mini-fic

A mini-fic of what happens during and after the wedding. From the perspective of Maya’s mom.

---

Looking back at the wedding pictures, she thinks she looks out of place. She sees herself without makeup, in a plaid shirt. Having left her husband that same day. He was on a rant about Maya and her “lifestyle choices.” Katherine was cowering, just as her daughter described her. Feeling suffocated. She looked at Lane, all the anger directed towards her daughter, that would soon turn to her, and she felt herself turn into the husk she was before she left.

For an instant, she thought about Maya.

“I have to go pick up ice.” Katherine whispered. Lane did not hear her. He never heard her. Or Maya. Or Mason. Or anyone else.

She grabbed her purse and her mask and left.

She did not pick up ice.

Maya’s house was empty.

Katherine didn’t know where to go. The only other place familiar to her was the fire station.

She walked in not knowing her daughter would be admitting she forgot to write her vows. Carina mentioned that it did not matter, that it was sweet and perfect that Maya, someone who was overprepared and had lists and clipboards, had forgotten to write down a list. She was too excited to start their lives together.

“I love you, and I choose you. Forever.” Hearing her daughter say that with such joy, made her cry. Interrupting their vows. She apologized but the way that her daughter and her soon to be bride looked at her, both lighting up, let her know she made the right choice.

Maya and Carina were happy for most of their wedding.

Then they realized that another firefighter had taken her job. Or cost her the job. Katherine was still confused about how a person can get fired so casually.

She thought she would need to hold her breath. Whenever Lane was upset, she would walk on eggshells to avoid setting him off.

Maya looked betrayed and sad. But not devastated. She was not angry. Her wife excused them with a polite smile, then took her outside.

Katherine did not know if she was allowed to follow or not. She wanted to comfort her daughter. Yet it had always been hard. Maya was so much like Lane. Hiding everything away until it exploded in unhealthy ways. Lashing out. Wanting to keep everyone from seeing her in pain.

She worried about Carina.

It was a lovely wedding.

She should not have followed them, but she did.

“Maya, it’s okay.” It was soft. “Bambina, you are a fighter and so smart and strong. If this captain job is what you want, you can get it back or get another captain.”

Maya said something too soft for her to hear through the door.

“No, you are an amazing good captain. This is just them punishing you for supporting your fire fighters and not the administration… remember what you told me? Why they were afraid to do what you did?”

Katherine went back to the party.

She does not remember the rest of the party. Only what the pictures tell her.

The thing she does remember is how her daughter interrupted her own wedding to ask her friends to help her move in with them.

Even fire fighters from the other shifts helped. Five men stayed outside with Lane. The rest carried things she pointed to from inside the home she used to call hers. Packed her bags. “Mama B, you need your passport.” Carina… her new daughter in-law said.

It made the room feel smaller. Lane controlled that. He had all of that in his gun safe. In the office he kept locked up.

“Maya.” Her daughter nodded.

They were alone in the room where before she had always been too scared to move. Constantly drowning. No wonder her daughter chose to be a fire fighter. She was used to the feeling of having to work hard to breathe.

Carina talked at her. Katherine did not have the mental capacity to forms sentences or words. Still feeling on edge. Never safe. Never safe in this house.

She appreciated how at ease the other woman was. How kindly she smiled. Not in that ugly way others did. Where they pitied her. Seeing her as both a victim but also deserving of Lane’s anger for not standing up for herself. For going back.

Carina was just as she remembered her at the spaghetti dinner. Genuinely excited to spend time with her.

It made her feel uncomfortable and happy at the same time.

Even Maya’s patience with her ran thin. Often lashing out in anger. Raising her voice. Narrowing her eyes the way her father did. She was so much like him. It broke her heart to see it.

Yet, Katherine understood that. She was comfortable in that. Had lived with that.

Carina was unexpected.

Maya returned with a stack of folders and a gun.

Katherine flinched.

“Maya, no.” Her daughter-in-law commanded.

“But…” Maya tried to argue. “No. Bambina, look at your mother… look at this country… Look at what happens when you have so many guns in the house and so many fears… I don’t want that in my house.”

Maya mentioned her father. It struck a new type of fear in Katherine.

“What makes you think he cannot buy another gun if you take this one? How much angrier is he going to be if that happens?”

Katherine swallows. She hated that Lane had a gun. Feared that he would use it against her. Or worse, the kids. Maya knew that. If he was angry, he might.

Carina understood anger. Escalation. Violence. She saw blood and death. The result of things like this.

“You take your papa’s gun and you have to be ready to shoot him with it. This thing, it will not end well. Leave the gun… this is only about your mama… you take that thing into our lives and you make it about something he thinks is his. You make it into a fight.”

Maya leaves in a huff.

“You are not his. You are yours.” Carina tells her. Firm voice. Needing to be heard. Soft hands. Wanting to comfort.

She nods.

They leave.

Everyone that helps set up her room stays at their house.

“It’s the after party.” Carina shouts happily. She puts on music and begins making pasta in her wedding dress.

Warren and Bailey come from the fire station with the men and women that stayed behind to clean up.

Cases of alcohol get brought into the house and people keep drinking and dancing. Victoria sings. Maya comes out in a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. She kisses Carina and takes the knife from her. Telling her to get comfortable.

“Please don’t angry chop my pasta.” Her daughter-in-law begs. Maya shrugs. Pretending she’s not listening. Mimicking angry chopping.

“Mama B, make sure she separates the pasta and hang it to dry.” Carina shouts, laughing as she leaves the kitchen and bumps into Andy.

The whole night was chaotic and filled with laughter and love.

Katherine wakes up early the next day. Not knowing what to do without Lane dictating every minute of her life, she lays there. Unsure of what she is allowed here. This place has her things, but it doesn’t feel like hers. It feels borrowed. Like last time.

She gets up and heads for the kitchen. Tip toeing around the place. Unsure of how quiet Maya and Carina need her to be. She is a guest.

“Suocera!” Carina enthusiastically greets her from the stove. Katherine nods. Confused. “Buongiorno.” She tries. It’s the only word she knows in Italian.

Carina laughs as she shakes her head. “Right... It… it is… you are the mother of the wife?” She asks. Not knowing the word.

“Oh. Mother-in-law” Katherine quickly fills in.

“Yes, suocera.” Carina repeats and smiles. Flipping over the French toast in the pan. Katherine stands there and Carina waves the spatula around. “I made espresso, but if it’s not your thing, you can add the water. Cups are there. Explore.”

“Can you grab me the thing?” Carina asks. Pointing vaguely behind her.

Katherine smiles. Uncomfortable. She likes the house. It is lovely. But Lane liked things to be a certain way. To stay there. For cabinets not to be opened unnecessarily.

“Uh.” Katherine stops. Looking at the counter.

“Maya, the thing! You know, the thing.” Carina says louder. Katherine freezes. Carina turns around, smiling and her face drops. She turns pale. Katherine waits for the explosion.

“I’m sorry.” Carina tells her. Voice softer. Hands moving wildly as she tries to find the words. “I’m sorry, suocera. I know when I get excited it seems like I am yelling. But I am not yelling at you. Or at Maya. I… I am not yelling.”

Katherine feels the tension in herself. In the other woman. As Carina wants to comfort her but does not step closer. She waits. Looking torn. “Boundaries.” Her therapist’s voice says inside her.

Katherine tilts her head down. Looking at the floor. She barely nods.

A small invitation is all it takes to be swept up in a tight hug. Carina pats down her hair and kisses it. “I’m sorry, suocera. I’m learning too.” Is all she says.

She cries and she is held.

The French toast burns, and Maya runs in to witness her wife running with a flaming pan, heading outside. Her mother is coughing. The water is on in the sink. Putting nothing out.

“Carina!” Maya shouts as she stares at her mom. Instead of finding the cold, angry blue she is used to, she finds worry. There is no blame. It feels like no time has passed but her daughter is different. This is not the same woman that told her she needed therapy for thinking what they went through together was abuse. For knowing it was wrong.

She runs out and takes command of the situation. Taking the hose from her wife and making sure there are no flames before heading back inside with a waterlogged piece of bread. Black from the flames. The kitchen is filled with smoke but there is no fire or damage.

Maya hugs her mother and Katherine feels like she can breathe. Even with the smoke. She cries. Her daughter had never been soft. But she changed for love. Katherine never felt strong. But she learned from her daughter. For her daughter.

She wonders what will happen if she stays. If this place becomes her home.

Katherine thinks she looks out of place. When the pictures come back.

She does not feel out of place.

Not then. Not now.

Carina is laughing beside her. Pointing out all the pictures that make her smile.

Three months feel a world away.

Katherine was worried about Maya. The offer came from Carina.

She did not want to overstay her invitation. But finding a job as a home maker that was scared of men shouting or froze at every loud noise, meant her prospects were limited. Especially in a pandemic.

She wanted to find her own place. Or even a shelter. To let her daughter build a new life without the old once holding her back. But Carina was so nice. So welcoming. She was so soft and safe that it was hard to feel bad about not trying hard enough.

Maya was different too. She was still reserved. But she was brighter. In a way she never thought Maya could be. The last time she visited there was so much anger. Denial. She was closed off and lashed out when people got too close to the core of who she was. So much like Lane that it hurt to look at her and see nothing but steel staring back. Cold. Lifeless.

Now she was nothing but awe and love.

Katherine liked it. She liked knowing who her daughter had become without all that pain. Without the constant pressure to achieve. To make Lane proud.

She asked, once. When Maya was not home.

Carina was direct. She never made them guess. She never hid her feelings or what she wanted. She was stubborn. And she always answered. Even when she could not find the words. She would answer. Because Carina liked clarity.

Katherine understood.

Walking on eggshells while not knowing what would set Lane off made her appreciate Carina’s openness. Even when it made her uncomfortable. Or mad at herself for not being able to reciprocate. She still liked who Carina was.

“I get to have a family again.” Carina shrugged. Passing the sheet of pasta through the metal press.

Katherine waited. Carina was the daughter that she always imagined other parents had. She giggled easily and gossiped. Filled the silences with laughter and words.

“I did have a family. But it was before. Then mama left and I stayed so Andrea could go. And it was just papa and me. He was so angry, and their marriage was so terrible that I hated the idea of family… but then…” She smiled softly.

“Then Maya became my home and family was something I missed… I… in Italy… you are expected to move with your husband’s family. To have your suocera and their nonna and all these people constantly in your life… I wanted to have that…” Katherine nods.

“I know it’s selfish to want you to stay. Americans, you like your life to be individual and separate and borders and very yourselves. But… I feel like a momma chicken. I like all of the people I love in my house. In my roof. Happy and in each other’s life… it feels… warm. Like a home.” Carina shrugs. Cutting the pasta into small sheets.

Katherine smiles. Liking the idea that family, home, could be something other than what both her and her daughter have known. What her daughter-in-law has known. That it could be built on new traditions. Starting with a wedding she was underdressed for but still belonged in.

#station 19 #carina x maya #carina deluca #maya bishop #katherine bishop #my fanfic #my drabbles #short character study #I am excited for mama b living with carina and maya #marina #yes the firehouse is taking place of the restaurant #just go with it

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zirkkun-uthcs · 3 years

Note

How can we make Ace happy without him, y'know... dying? ;(

Well I mean, Underlust Reimagine!Sans won't die if you touch him, if that's what you're implying, haha. Really, most of his "dislikes" stem from either things people have done to him, or what he feels is something that, if he were to engage in it, would severely harm others. Typically, however, it's more the latter, and physical touch is a major inclusion in that.

However... just because he avoids it, it doesn't mean he actually dislikes it.

Ace, being the extremely closed-off person that he is, really doesn't want to work towards having someone there to really care for him. The closest people he has in his life, who do are Duo and Ally, even them he keeps at a very safe distance and lies to them on a constant basis (especially to Duo.) He's so used to lying and covering things up just to keep people away that it's practically second nature to him, so if you really want to get close to him, you'd really have to figure out on your own somehow what is truth and what is lies. If you start calling him out on his lies, that wall's gonna begin to crumble, since he doesn't have any idea what to do. But don't tell anyone else what you've found out -- that could not me a more sure way for Ace to feel absolutely betrayed.

Honestly, once those walls of his have a crack in them, it's not hard for the whole thing to come crashing down soon after... but you'll still have to put in some legwork for it to happen. You'd really have to make an effort to reassure Ace that you care about him and you don't feel hurt by him. If you can manage to be patient, because it will take some internal debate and external excessive shouting as he desperately tries to push you away before you see the real him; the walls will definitely fall apart. But now, actually, is what you might least expect from him:

Ace is clingy.

He didn't used to be, when he had friends and flings he met with every other night, but ever since he lost every bit of that, he's been very lonely and very isolated. If you're willing to actually walk in and try to cheer him up, and aren't threatened by him in the slightest, well... he's going to cling to you and be afraid to lose you. Oh, and, not just metaphorically, by the way. Ace will physically cling to you. If he cannot even so much as hold your hand while around you at this point, consider him practically on the edge of a panic attack (even if you're just friends, he needs this physical contact at this point.) Basically, his entire personality does a complete 180 -- and honestly, it might confuse the hell out of everyone who's known him for a very long time.

Ace will probably take a very long time to calm down on how clingy he is, so prepared to be dealing with that for a fair while. He will also, more than likely, probably just essentially insert his presence to where you live, and now you're unintendedly living together. If you have other housemates, he's gonna be scared to shit, and probably just lock himself in your room. Oh, yeah, he's definitely going to steal your bed, too, so either be prepared to sleep on the floor or couch, wrestle for it, or just cave in and share it. (If you share it, do note Ace is a deadly cuddler. You will be stuck there until he wakes up, because he will not let go.)

And, well, given the fact that he's now practically inserted himself into your life, and it's not like his medical condition has changed at all, he may ask for... help with it, since, there's only so much he can do by himself, and he's been isolated for years like this... so he's a little "touch-starved," for lack of a better word, in the most extreme of ways. If you can't or won't, well, uh, well -- that was awkward. Give him like a minute (days) to recover from asking that.

Obviously, you're not gonna be his heal-all -- unless you so happen to be a therapist and/or doctor, in which case, man has he really scored a good friend -- and he might as well still be in isolation, you just happen to also be there. So, frankly, he's not exactly happier at this point. Ace is going to need a lot of time, patience, help, and probably some therapy and other friends to even remotely start to feel happy again. He's definitely a piece of work that'll shave years off of your life if you really want to see this boy happy. Hey, maybe he might even start wearing his scarf less often. Usually he only takes it off to sleep and eat, but he may just not even bother wearing it inside the house -- especially around a human, since, well, his uh... y'know doesn't do anything to humans, for the most part. Slowly, but surely, he'll find himself progressively more comfortable -- and slowly, but surely, he'll start finding himself to be more like he used to be. Not when he was going out every other night -- but when he was working with the Royal Scientists. You know... the last good time of his life.

So, in summary? Ace needs therapy.

#undertale #undertale headcanon #undertale x reader #undertale au #underlust reimagine #underlust reimagine x reader #underlust reimagine!sans #uthcs headcanon #zircon answers #anonymous #i have... had a fic idea rumbling around in my head for this for a while #but i never can figure out a way to write it #but... thats why this is so long LMAO #but yea any relationship at all with ace? idk yall sounds like a tiring endeavor yall sure u want this lmao #i love my boy but lmao #also tbf most of my own characters are more like my children to me ;w;#so maybe im just being a petty parent LMAO

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years

Note

Helloo! Can I ask a headcanon of Leona, Azul and Malleus with a S/O that died when someone's overblog by protecting them and they reborn a week before of that remembering everything? Sorry if it was misunderstanding, english isn't my mother tongue.

Hello, hello!

No worries, I understand your English just fine!

Fufu, I’m going to take this chance to write some delicious angst...! I do hope that is alright with you. At the very least, these were not imagines. Imagine the heartbreak that would happen in those scenarios...

***Warning: spoilers for chapter 2, 3, and 4 of the main story campaign.***

***Content warning: frequent mentions of blood, death, and gruesome ways to pass. Please see below the cut if you are okay with viewing this type of content.***

Curiouser and Curiouser...

They say that history repeats itself.

Leona Kingscholar...

...was targeted by Overblot Azul’s powerful tentacles.

You threw yourself in front of him, becoming a sacrificial lamb for the slaughter. He heard the snap of your windpipe, saw the light leaving your eyes.

Leona went into a frenzied rage, unleashing King’s Roar and taking out Azul in the process. Leona scrambled to hoist you onto his back and get you the emergency medical treatment you needed--but it was too late.

Lost so much sleep when you passed away in the night. He cursed the Fates, yelled at the skies--where you, no doubt, now resided among the great kings of the past.

Got angry at everyone around him for the slightest of things, roaring at even Ruggie for quietly suggesting that Leona needs to “get himself together”.

One week later, you reappear with all your memories intact.

Leona thinks he is dreaming. He blinks several times, tries rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and pinches himself.

He is not dreaming.

This big cat’s so happy to have his herbivore back--is this a miracle, or what? He embraces you in a soul-crushing hug and swears he will never again let you go.

Lots of cuddles, and is more clingy than ever--he never takes your presence for granted again.

He’s not afraid to laugh and be more vulnerable around you--after all, he literally saw you die right before his eyes. How can you get more vulnerable than that?

Winter break rolls around; Leona has to go home to the Afterglow Savannah to visit his family.

He makes you promise to watch yourself before he departs with a smirk.

Returns from break to find your dehydrated corpse in Scarabia, beaten and bruised by the harsh desert.

Azul Ashengrotto...

...was almost beaten bloody by Overblot Jamil’s magic.

You offered yourself up to keep Azul alive, despite his loud protests.

Jamil, eager to hurt that sneaky octopus trickster, happily accepts your life in place of Azul’s; he has the brainwashed Scarabia students restrain Azul and make sure he gets a good front row seat as he buries you alive in sand.

Deuce and Ace arrive just in time to help the twins subdue Jamil--but Azul is left a tearful mess.

He tries to use every healing incantation he knows to bring you back, but it is too late--your life has been extinguished.

Azul can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t do any work at all. The Mostro Lounge shuts down, and he stops offering his services. His clothes and his bed sheets are always stained with traces of his inky tears.

Even Jade and Floyd cannot seem to bring him out of his foul mood. They try to get Azul to see a therapist, but he outright refuses.

You return one week later, right as rain, much to his shock.

He doesn’t care how or why you have come back--perhaps some higher being has taken pity on his poor, unfortunate soul?

Your reunion sends Azul into another fit of tears as he hugs you tight, staining your clothes with his ink.

Azul dotes on you, even moreso than usual. Spends a lot of time on romantic dinners and more intimate dates, like taking long strolls on the beach at night. He loves these moments, when it is just the two of you and he can enjoy all of the adorable expressions you make, just for him.

He is powerless to stop Overblot Malleus from burning you to a crisp, your face contorting in terror as your flesh and bones melt.

Your ashes scatter to the wind, to a place where Azul can no longer reach you.

Malleus Draconia...

...was the one that tore you in half.

He didn’t mean to--but in his Overblot form, he cannot think clearly, he cannot control his desire to rampage, even if it hurts the one he loves the most.

When his claws dug through you, he realized his grave error and returned to his senses. Malleus cried and held you in his arms as you bled out, unable to reverse the damage he had done.

He sent you off to your eternal sleep with tears in his eyes and a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“May we meet again in another time and place, my beloved.”

Malleus mopes after your passing, blaming himself and refusing to go out--even when Lilia and the others try to invite him to impromptu tea parties to raise his spirits. Sebek beats himself up for not being able to do more to help the Young Master.

It is, perhaps, some kind of fairy magic that restores you a week later. Malleus thanks the universe for bringing you back into his arms.

His tears are silent, and his embrace is gentle, but firm. He hugs you and hugs you, whispering that he has missed you, his special flower.

Will take this opportunity to change the course of destiny. He will do everything he can to protect you and avoid putting your life in danger again.

He is afraid you will get hurt again, so he does his very best to remain calm and controlled.

Brings you out less, out of fear for your safety. More private dates in the comfort of your place or his, be it cooking together, watching a movie, or just cuddling while sharing a blanket.

History repeats itself, despite Malleus’s wishes.

His temper spikes, and his magic surges.

You try to placate him, but to no avail.

Lilia, tears in his eyes, shouts at you to get out of the way. There is no other ending to this story, he tells you. Malleus is out of control, and he needs to be put down before he endangers the lives of everyone in Twisted Wonderland. Even Sebek agrees.

You refuse to budge--you know that deep down, the kind, gentle fae you love is still there. You stand between them and Malleus to protect him.

Silver sends a sword through you. Blood erupts from your mouth.

“Sorry,” he says as your vision blurs. You are tossed aside and forgotten; the battle rages on.

This time, you do not return.

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hollanderfangirl · 4 years

Text

Let me go |Harry Holland|

Pairing: Harry Holland x Therapist! Reader

A/N: so I'm not a therapist and I've never been to therapy, well if you don't consider the sessions with my psychology teacher. All of what I've written comes from what I've learnt in psychology class, reading books and listening to other people's experiences.

Warnings: talk about death, panic attack and it's just really sad

Word count: 3.3k, this is my longest fic yet :)

(Sorry for the shitty moodboard I just had to post this fic or I would have lost my mind)

Harry Holland walked through the halls of the clinic, not really sure why he was here. Well he knew why he had come to see a therapist but he wondered how he put himself in this situation. He had been locking himself inside a glass cave built out of hopelessness for months, his friends and family were greatly concerned about him but he refused to take any help. He had always been stubborn, he never asked for anybody's help. He hated the look of pity on people's faces. He hated people showing him sympathy. He was more than this. He didn't need anybody. He can pull himself together, he just needed time.

But it wasn't helping. Burying your feelings in has never helped anybody. Putting on a smile everyday in front of people and crying himself to sleep, Harry found it more and more difficult. His mum had sensed it and told him to go and see a doctor. He had resisted it at first.

"Please do it for me, Harry. I cannot see you like this, at least for my satisfaction," Nikki had said. "Just go for a trial session and if you like it then you can continue," but of course he wasn't going to continue.

Now as he stood in front of the receptionist, he was reconsidering his decision.

"Yes, do you have an appointment, sir?"

"Huh?" he seemed lost. "Yeah..yeah"

"Just wait here, I'll inform Dr Y/l/n"

"Your know what, cancel the appointment. I- I don't need help"

"Oh but this is just a trial, Mr Holland"

"Yeah but I don't-" the receptionist was already at the door, muttering something to the woman inside.

You step outside to see a curly headed man, he looked pleasant but his eyes looked sad. Those were the eyes of a person who had seen immense grief, someone who had been miserable for a long long time.

"I'm sorry but I don't need therapy… I didn't realise this before, I -I shouldn't have come here"

"Oh Mr Holland, this is just a trial right? Let's just have some coffee. This isn't therapy yet" you smile at him.

"No I really-"

"Okay then, give me half an hour. If you still feel the same way, then you can leave. Half an hour is all I want from you, Mr Holland"

"Alright"

You lead him into your chamber, closing the door behind you. He sits down on a couch across from you, your desk separating you both. The first step of therapy- resistance. People always resist therapy at first, they feel like they don't need the help or maybe seeking help makes them weak. They don't feel like opening up to a complete stranger. How can they? How can they open up their most vulnerable state to a person who they barely know? But slowly and steadily, a rapport is made. A therapist has to be very careful and empathetic. They have to be trusting. Someone who people can turn to. Someone who they can relate to. Someone who understands them. Someone who would just listen.

"So, your mother sent you here. Right, Mr Holland?"

"Just- just call me Harry"

"Okay then Harry, tell me"

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Everything. Start from the beginning"

"Well I- do you… do you really think I would-" he hesitates. "Who do you think you are? Why do you think I should pay you to listen to my goddamn life story here?"

"You're not here to tell me your life story," you say politely. "I'm here to help you and I can do that only if you would let me"

"Well guess what? You cannot help me, I knew I was wasting my time," he gets up and starts to walk away.

"I asked for half an hour of your time, Harry"

"Well I don't fucking care"

"Harry, please listen to me. All I ask is half an hour"

Little did he know, this half an hour was going to change his life.

Something about your tone made him stay. He sat back down on the couch, turning away from you.

"Okay, so if you're not going to talk, I will," you sigh. "So, you have suffered a great loss, someone you loved dearly?"

"Yes," he still didn't look you in the eye.

"Who was it?"

"My…my friend. Girlfriend"

"And when did this happen?"

"A year ago"

"How have you been holding up?"

He thought of giving another vague answer. How the fuck do you think I'm holding up? I'm fucking dying every single day.

"Uh- it's been a little better, I guess. It's not as bad as it used to be"

"Well that's a start. And do you still think about her?"

Every goddamn minute, lady. What do you want from me? "Yeah sometimes"

"And how have you been sleeping?"

I can't sleep. I haven't slept properly for months. If I sleep I see her coming back to me. "Alright I guess"

This wasn't going anywhere. You thought of recommending him another doctor but something about him charmed you. He was a man who should have been living a great life but his grief was tearing him apart. You had to help him. You felt a strong connection to him, you felt determined. No, I have to help him. I just have to.

"Harry, do you feel like you're responsible for your girlfriend's death?" it was a straightforward question, you had been trying to get something out of him but he wasn't ready to.

He looked at you dead in the eye, yet could not get any words out. You could sense the anger building up inside him but it wasn't projected at you, he was angry with himself.

"I….. " he took a few deep breaths, clenching his hands into fists. "Yes"

"Why is that so?"

"Fucking hell! Are you for real? She died, okay? And I wasn't there… I wasn't there.. " he was tearing up. "I should have been the one to die! Not her! Not anybody! Everyone just leaves me in the end!" he was full on shouting, letting out everything he had been holding inside himself for a whole year. He had tears in his eyes.

You handed him a box of tissues and he was gasping for breath. When he had calmed down, you both sat in silence for a few minutes.

"You know, Harry, my friend died the day we had a fight. She was my best friend. I knew her ever since we were three. It was a silly argument. We should not have fought about it. But we did and I told her I wished she would just go away… and then she did" it was painful for you to remember this, but time does heal everything.

"I'm sorry," his voice was low. "And I'm sorry for all those things I said"

"No it's alright, that's what you're here for. And besides, it's nothing compared to your loss, Harry"

"No. It- it's not a competition. Suffering is not a competition. It must've been really hard for you, Dr y/l/n," this was the first time he had addressed you.

"Call me y/n," you smile at him. "And yeah that's very true. We often blame ourselves, you know, it's very common. We cannot be angry at them so we get angry with ourselves. Even though we know deep in our hearts that there was nothing we could have done"

There was a long silence.

"She went out for a drive, that bastard drunk driver," he spoke up. "And I was just resting. She asked me so many times to join her but I wanted to sleep"

You nod at him and he continued. "That's…the reason I'm not able to sleep. Every night I close my eyes, I think I'll wake up to that phone call"

"Well yes I don't blame you, our brains sometimes don't process things that come as a shock. And then it just keeps on haunting us forever. Do you believe in life after death, Harry?"

"Well I don't know what to believe"

"Have you- felt her? After she was gone?"

"You'll think I'm crazy"

"I'm a therapist, it'll take you much more than that to convince me you're crazy"

"I sometimes talk to her. Like what would she think about this particular situation. Or just that I miss her so much. I don't get any responses but I just try to think like her?"

"Yeah, that's quite normal actually. People think they need to 'get over' someone's death. But that's not true. You can never really get over something like death"

"And what does getting over even mean? Like you just forget them? Moving on with your life just means that you think they were never a part of it"

"Well you're both right and wrong. Yes we must remember our loved ones who are not with us anymore but at the same time, we have to let them go"

"How? It's too painful"

"I know. But do you believe in the concept of souls, Harry?"

"Yeah I mean," he shrugs.

"The soul is considered to be immortal. And groups of souls tend to travel together. Even if you don't know it, some way, somehow, they're always with us"

He says nothing but his eyes looked softer now.

"And just think about it, think of her seeing you like this. Do you think she could have handled you being so miserable?"

"She would have been heartbroken"

"Exactly. So do it for her, for yourself. For both of you to feel peace again"

"Yeah"

You look at your watch. Half an hour was up.

"So, Harry. Your half an hour is up. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, um we can talk about it in our next session?"

You smile at him. "Of course"

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

After that one half an hour session, Harry was a changed man. He was still mourning, he was still miserable but he had hope. For the first time in a long time, he thought he could actually go on with his life, he could finally feel peace.

The week went by smoothly. Harry tried to make himself busy, by surrounding himself with people and always working. He was still getting nightmares but he was determined to sleep. He was sleeping light, afraid of what deep sleep might show him.

Meanwhile your life was exactly the same, you went on with your day treating people, talking, helping them. You loved your job, you loved the sense of satisfaction you got after patients they told you they were finally better. Every person was a challenge, and you knew there was a gem hidden inside every one of them. All of them had immense potential but life hadn't been kind to them. You felt disturbed and it broke your heart to see people hurting. And you would do anything to make it better for them. To help them.

You couldn’t keep Harry out of your mind. You were thinking about him all day long, awaiting your next session with him. What if he cancels? What can I do if he does? Why am I thinking about him? He had this air around him, a magnetic pull, which was pulling your closer and closer towards him. And why is he so damn attractive? No I should not think about him that way. It was the first and foremost rule of your profession. Never get emotionally attached with your clients. It was a professional relationship and must remain that way.

When he came into your office the following week, you could sense the change in him. You felt proud that a single session made such a difference. There was no arrogance in him, he didn’t seem angry anymore. He was calm and better.

“So, Harry. How was your week?”

“It was good, I’ve been shooting my new short film and it’s coming out to be okay so far”

“Alright and how have you been sleeping?”

“Not that good to be honest. I still get dreams, uh bad dreams”

“What do you see in these dreams?”

“I see the accident scene….again and again, it’s the same dream. Sometimes I see her, she talks to me and all that”

“Hmm and have you talked to your family? Your friends?”

“Yeah I talked to my mum…and my brother”

“What did they say?”

“They said they are here for me and will always love me”

“Yes and I don’t doubt that, Harry. You have a lot of people in your life who love and support you. Embrace that”

The session went by smoothly, he opened up to you about his life, everything about the girl he loved so much. About his family, his career. You found yourself staring at him, taking glances at his hands which he constantly moved while he talked. You noticed he was shaking his leg the whole time. Stop staring, y/n.

Wow she’s so beautiful. And thoughtful. And funny and understanding. What am I doing? She’s my therapist….but…why couldn’t I have met her before? Why didn’t I meet her when I was normal? Would things have been different? But then again, I would have never met her if I was normal.

Things seemed to get better, as the weeks progressed, Harry was becoming more and more like his old self again. But there was a feeling of regret, he thought this was wrong as if he were forgetting her. But you were there to guide him, to tell him that this is what life is. It never stops. No matter what happens, you will heal. Someday, sometime. And each day we progress towards it.

And then it happened. The call came at 1 am in the morning. You were sleeping and you were tired, you had been working all day and just needed some rest. You wouldn't have picked the call up but something told you it was important. That you should pick it up.

“Hello?” you yawn.

You just hear muffled breathing for a few seconds.

“Hello? Who is it?”

“It…it’s me…Harry”

“Harry, what’s wrong?” you thought what could have happened at this time of the night.

“I just- can you-” he sounded like he was choking.

“Harry what’s wrong, you’re scaring me”

“I… can’t… breathe,” you hear him sobbing. ”I had… that… dream, I feel like I’m…going to…die”

“Harry, listen to me. You will be okay. Yeah? Just take deep breaths and sit tight. I’m coming to you”

You search through his file to look for his address. When you find it, you rush through the front door and drive to his house. You were on the phone with him the whole drive.

“Just keep breathing, Harry. Deep breaths, okay?”

To your surprise, the front door was unlocked. It looked like he had gone out into the street in the middle of the night. You search through rooms to find him, and you see him curled into a ball at the corner of a king size bed. You touch his shoulder and he flinches.

“Hey, hey it’s just me. It’s alright”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” he was crying, with the tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes looked small and they looked red from the lack of sleep and of tears.

“It’s alright, Harry. Just come here, it’ll be alright,” you pull him towards yourself him and he buries his face into your chest and you held him, stroking his hair and telling him it will be alright.

“That’s it. Let it out, Harry. It’s okay to cry”

You both stayed like that for another 15 minutes. He couldn’t stop crying and you knew he needed that. He had been holding everything in for so long and it just came out like an explosion tonight. You wiped his tears and made him meditate for a few minutes.

He fell asleep and you stayed up all night, looking at him. He looked so innocent while he slept, and cute too, you thought hiding a blush, even though nobody was there to look at you.

That night, Harry finally felt at peace. He was finally able to sleep. He had no nightmares, just a peaceful dream. He saw his girlfriend, running away from him in a white dress with her hair flowing in the wind.

Please don’t leave me, darling. I love you.

I know you do Harry, but you must let me go. I will always be with you. I will always love you. It is time you start caring about yourself, you must let me go. It is time.

No! don’t leave me!

And he woke up. Something about this dream told him that she was right. It was time. He was finally ready to let her go. For both of their sakes.

He went down to find you sleeping on the couch. He was hesitant at his thoughts but deep down he knew he was falling for you. Am I just using her to cope with my loss? Or do I really love her?

You opened your eyes, looking at Harry sitting on the ground, pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“Better. Really really better. I- I don’t know how to thank you, y/n and I’m so sorry”

“Hey it’s alright, and I’m glad I could help,” you smile. “I should go now, I have to get to work”

“Let me make breakfast and let me drive you to your house”

“Oh no it’s okay I can-”

“I owe this much to you, y/n. Let me”

“Okay”

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

It wasn’t until another week when Harry had his next session. You had been thinking about him all the time, you were confused, it wasn’t supposed to go this way. But he….who am I kidding I’m in love with him.

When he walked through the door on a Thursday morning next week, he looked healthy and happier than ever. You felt a sense of happiness yourself, therapy is always beneficial to both the patient and the therapist. Every person is a deep universe, their thoughts, experiences, pain, joy, everything. Empathising with clients is a great learning experience, it becomes a part your personality. It becomes a part of you.

“Hey y/n”

“Hi Harry”

“So my week as been as it’s always and I’ve been feeling a lot better ever since that day…and that dream” he had told you about the dream he had the night you watched him sleep. He seemed to completely change after that, he let go of the intense emotions he had been carrying around.

“That’s very good and you’ve made a lot of progress since our first meeting”

“Yeah…I have”

The session went on as usual, he talked about everything that happened, he started fighting with his brothers again, which he hadn’t done in a long time and even though they were pissed off at him, they were happy to have him back.

“Um Harry,” you say at the end of the session. “I think-” you try to choose your words correctly. “I think it’s about time you start seeing another therapist, yeah?”

You see his face drop. “wh-why? I’m doing so much better, is..is it because of that night? I’m so sorry y/n”

“No it’s not that. You and I both know what’s happening between us, it’s wrong for a therapist to get emotionally attached with her patient. I’m sorry, Harry”

“So you’re saying that you’re becoming emotionally attached with me?”

“I..I’m-“

“It’s alright. I understand y/n”

“Yes, thank you. This has been great”

“So… now that you’re not my therapist, can I meet you for coffee this evening?”

“Harry-“

“Half an hour, Dr y/l/n. Just give me half an hour of your time, if you still feel the same way, I’ll never bother you again”

“Uh-" you hesitate. You knew you should have said no. You were going to say no. Yet the words which came out of your mouth were “Okay then, it’s a date”

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

Taglist:

@mischiefmanaged011 @notsosmexy @perspectiveparker @justanothermarvelmaniac @amorhollands @thisetaernallove @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @peterspideysstuff @musicalkeys @theliterarymess @ilarbu @hollands-weasley @tombob2005 @tommysparker @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @parkerpeter24 @more-like-reyna @hollandbroz-n-haz @aqiise

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland imagine #harry holland angst #harry+holland+x+y/n #harry holland x therapist! reader #harry holland fluff #harry holland fic #harry holland one shot #therapist! reader

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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 3 years

Text

Cuddle Corner (Part 2)

A long time coming, literally ~5 years, the sequel to the original Cuddle Corner. This one was highly requested on ao3 and ff.net, but honestly? I wanted it just as bad.

This story is dedicated to @fruipit. One because your enthusiasm for the original was so energizing, and two, because I still owe you a larger fic but here I am on the one-year-anniversary of that to offer this one instead xD

Edit: for those who love to favorite and comment: ao3 and ff.net are now available!

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

The background buzz of the mall’s food court droned around Anna and Kristoff as they dug into their meals. Work would come calling soon, but it was their lunch break, and the reuben’s they made here were well worth the drive, the parking nightmare, and the overpriced soft drink that came with it.

Kristoff watched Anna. While generally a reserved man, his quiet was different now, observant. After devouring half of his sandwich, the rest remained practically untouched, but Anna was too busy enjoying her food to notice. Too busy that is, until Kristoff cleared his throat.

“I think you should go back.”

Her sandwich stopped halfway to her mouth. "We are not talking about this." "Anna..." Kristoff leaned forward, posture set firm. Anna met his gaze with equal and opposite determination - and to her credit, she gave it her all. But it was like trying to bully a mountain by throwing pebbles, and eventually she closed her eyes, giving in with a measured inhale and exhale. "You know why I can't." "Yeah, so you've told me." "Then you'll have to forgive me for being short," Anna scowled. "I thought I'd made it clear that that could never be allowed to happen again." "So, what?” Kristoff raised an eyebrow. “You're just going to keep yourself on house arrest and never interact with another human being ever again?" Anna put her meal down. Based on the way her stomach was already tightening in knots, she wasn't getting back to it anyway. "Of course not, that's absurd." Kristoff spread his arms, awaiting an explanation. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I care about you, Anna." Kristoff's face softened. "I won't go so far as to say I know how you feel, because I know that I don't and never truly will. But I do know you. And you haven't been yourself since that appointment." Anna stared at the tabletop, arms close to center. "I know you don't want to talk about it," Kristoff continued, "but whatever happened–"

“Nothing happened!” Anna shouted, drawing concerned looks from the other patrons. The words cut like glass. Her throat felt raw, heart bleeding as it pumped jagged pieces through her chest. She drew her hands back even further when Kristoff offered his own from across the table. She couldn’t. Not now.

God, she hated crying.

A foot nudged hers gently. Anna blinked back the tears, remembering where she was and who she was talking to. This was Kristoff, and he knew her better than anyone.

“Anna, you’re hurting.” He tapped his foot on top of hers, doing it again when she remained silent. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “but I can’t watch that big goofy heart of yours shrink in on itself any longer.”

He paused and Anna felt the sharp teeth of dread.

“Was it Elsa?”

Anna’s eyes widened. “No! No, Elsa was… Elsa was perfect.”

“You said it reminded you of before.”

“And I stand by that, sort of.” Another nudge and this time Anna tapped Kristoff’s foot back, bringing a smile to his brown eyes. She gave him one of her own, small and weak in comparison. “Elsa was completely professional. We established boundaries and she constantly checked in on me to make sure I was okay. She never did anything without my say-so and she cared about my well-being.” Anna’s expression soured. “Which is exactly where everything went wrong. We hugged, sat together, swapped stories. I felt like I’d known her my whole life! I was even brave enough to put my head in her lap. I got so caught up that I forgot why I can’t do that sort of thing anymore.”

Kristoff offered his hand again and she took it, grateful for his patience. “When that timer went off, everything came flooding back. Everything. Guilt and fear and crushed hope. I threw all of it in her face. Elsa, she... she didn’t deserve that.” Anna’s shoulders dropped with the admission, a weight slipping the ground. She glanced up at Kristoff and shrugged awkwardly. “You know the rest. I’ve avoided talking about it and spent all my free time at home, trying to get my shit together.” She inhaled shakily. “I really thought I was done with this.”

A soothing thumb brushed the back of her hand. She tentatively reached out with her sneaker, warmth softening the sharp edges in her chest when Kristoff bumped her back.

“I’m guessing that means you haven’t called her back, even though you have her card.” Kristoff leaned forward. “You… do still have it?”

Anna nodded. “Right where I left it, stuffed as far down into my jacket pocket as possible.”

“I think you should call her,” He said after a moment of thought.

“Kristoff.” Anna took back her hand, bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I know you’re just trying to help but how many times do I have to say that we, Elsa and I, cannot be a thing? Being ‘a thing’ means spending time together, spending time together means we’ll be affectionate, and being affectionate leads to… more. A-And I can’t give, more.”

“Which is why I’m not suggesting that in the least,” Kristoff replied, face set. “I’m merely saying you call her so she doesn’t think you hate her.”

Ouch. That hurt.

“You’re not the kind of person to wrong someone,” Kristoff continued, “let alone wrong someone and not apologize.” More gently he added, “I know you enjoyed spending time with her, anxiety aside. You’re not even going to give her the chance? Not even to be friends? Professional chums?”

“I don’t know, Kristoff,” Anna crossed her arms. “Are you friends with your therapist?”

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh.”

Kristoff grinned. “You were expecting me to say no, weren’t you?” Anna eyed the rest of her meal by way of answer. “I know she’s not your therapist, and trust me, I understand the urge to keep absolutely everything between you and Elsa professional. But sometimes in a space like that, where it’s just the two of you, you have to be honest too. Sometimes the best way for them to help you is to… well, let them help you.”

“Eloquent.”

“Just another way of saying I’m right, which I will take, thank you.”

Anna snorted at his antics, smiling a little too. But in the silence that followed the chilling trace of fear wound it’s way under her skin, trailing beneath her bones. She pressed her fingertips to her sternum. Heart and mind said two different things, and it was too soon to decide whether the fleeting spark of hope Kristoff was inspiring would save or destroy her.

“Please,” Kristoff pleaded, “no more of this. However you need to frame it -- for her sake or yours -- make things right with Elsa.” -------------

Anna steeled herself, dial pad staring accusingly when she hesitated again before punching in the number on the card. Her hand shook as she put the phone to her ear.

She begged for voicemail.

"Hello?” Dammit. “Elsa speaking."

“H-Hey Elsa," she cleared her throat, suddenly hoarse. "It's Anna."

"Anna!" Came the joyful cry, "Wow, Anna I'm... I'm really glad to hear from you." Anna didn't know what to say so she didn't respond. "What can I help you with?"

"I um, I know it’s been forever since we met but I was thinking…” She took a deep breath. She wanted this, didn’t she? “I, wanted to see you again.”

Immediately Anna knew she’d screwed up. “In what way?” Elsa’s voice was dangerously low, cautious in a way that nearly broke Anna’s soft heart. No, not afraid of me, please no.

“As in an appointment,” Anna rushed, backpedaling so fast she felt dizzy.

"Really?” Elsa sounded back to normal, even delightfully surprised. “I mean, of course. That’s why I gave you my number after all.” She laughed, high and breathy. “When would you like to come in?"

Anna hadn't even checked her calendar. Could she be any less prepared? "Um," Anna racked her brain, trying to find an open slot, "how about Saturday?"

"Saturday is good. I have a noon and a four o'clock, whichever works better for you."

"Four is better."

"Great! I'll see you then," Elsa exclaimed. There was a moment of quiet, then, "And hey, Anna?"

Anna swallowed. Elsa's voice had changed again, completely. It was painfully searching, even if Elsa tried to hide with brevity. "Yeah?"

"Thanks... for giving me a second chance."

Elsa hung up, leaving Anna to wonder how she would manage to survive the next three days.

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

The waiting room was all too familiar, despite the fact she hadn't been back in months. The music hadn't changed, the buddha statue was still fat and happy, and the reeds still looked fake. Or real. Or both.

A different receptionist checked her in, all smiles and good smells. Apricot, Anna realized as she found a seat. Easy, considering she was the only one here, but unfortunate, since all she really wanted to do was hide.

But Kristoff was right, this was going to be for the best. Elsa, though they'd only interacted for an hour, deserved much more than Anna’s surprisingly cold shoulder.

"Anna?" Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't heard the door open. She looked up and found a pair of eager blue eyes, tempered in a way they shouldn't be. Too cautious.

She'd been hurt.

Shit.

“I’m–. We… are ready to see you now.” Elsa waved her clipboard. “If you’ll just follow me.”

Down the hall, past the same differently decorated rooms. Elsa’s open white button-down flared over black jeans as she walked, pale braided hair swinging back and forth delicately. It was nice, Anna thought, all these stark negatives against the baked clay hue of the walls and stained wood of the picture frames. Well, not negatives, Elsa could never be a negative, not like that. Anna was just appreciating the contrast–

She looked up when Elsa coughed. “We’re here,” she said for what must have been the second time. Anna immediately recognized it as the same room they’d been in when she was here last.

“Is this your room then?” she asked, moving inside.

Elsa shook her head. “We get a room assigned at random unless the client specifies. Technically you got the one two doors down but I thought since you knew this one and I didn’t want you to feel…” Her eyes changed, losing their confidence. “Unless you wanted another room, then–”

“Thank you,” Anna stopped her, touched by her concern. “This one is perfect.”

Elsa closed the door and handed over the clipboard. “So. Anna. Sign a few places and we can get started, same as last time.” She froze, searching Anna’s face. “Or not the same since, well…,” she trailed off.

They both looked at the door handle.

Anna swallowed, fighting the anxiety suddenly clogging up her throat. She realized that if this was going to work, she was the one who needed to set expectations too. Anna scribbled her name, then tucked the pen under her thumb and held out her other hand, palm up. “It won’t be the same,” she said with a confidence she was still finding. “It’ll be better.”

She saw Elsa hesitate, meeting Anna’s gaze instead. Her expression was schooled but Anna saw the cheer in her eyes. “That’s cheating,” she replied, humor lending warmth to her voice, “your time hasn’t started.”

“Then let’s start.”

Now Elsa smiled, unfiltered and without shadow.

Elsa set another timer on her phone, laying it down on the table. Caught up by the slowly ticking numbers on the screen, Anna nearly started when Elsa took the hand she’d offered before. Thankfully, Anna turned the reflex into a motion towards the bed. “Shall we?”

Elsa raised an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done to Anna Fields?” She chuckled, but let herself be led across the room.

“Ms. Fields has had a lot of time to think.” Anna settled herself on the side of bed, dropping her purse off her shoulder. “And she’s got some things to say.”

The mattress dipped on her right as Elsa settled next to her. Their hands were still connected. Anna took a deep breath, settling her nerves, “Starting with, ‘I’m sorry’.” Elsa made a humming noise and rubbed her thumb across Anna’s knuckles. “I’m sorry that I left things the way I did, I promise I’m not usually so… volatile. I know I didn’t explode on you or anything but, it must have felt like a switch got flipped. One second perfectly relaxed, the next…” In her mind Anna heard the timer again, felt the tightening pull of her muscles, saw the half remembered steps to the door. Her free hand clenched over her knee. “A-And I wouldn’t look at you, I couldn’t.” She felt Elsa’s eyes on her now, and the irony that Anna was struggling to meet her gaze, still, wasn’t lost on her.

When a few moments passed without either speaking, Elsa shifted, kicking her shoes off and pulling her legs up onto the bed. “I know you have more to say, and I want to hear it. But we are the Cuddle Corner after all. Can we try this?” Elsa moved behind her, then turned her back and sat cross-legged, facing the opposite wall. “I think you’ll like this one,” she said, speaking a little louder so her voice carried. “Just mirror what I’m doing, and rest your back against mine.”

Anna thought about it, but only for a moment before she reoriented herself and slowly eased against Elsa. Then she shifted, straightening her back and sitting up taller. Of course Elsa had good posture. At least, better than her own.

“Relax,” Elsa said calmly, though Anna heard the distinct upward lilt of humor buried in that one word. “And when you’re ready, place the back of your head on mine, too.”

Anna could feel every one of Elsa’s breaths, expanding lightly against her spine. It was distracting, but pleasantly so, soothing and gentle. Finally Anna tilted her head back, looking straight ahead.

“How are you doing?” Elsa asked.

Anna closed her eyes and breathed deep. Her awareness traveled from her head to her center, where things were still a little messy, but more calm than before, quieter. “Better,” she replied honestly.

“Good.” She felt Elsa raise her chin. “Try to keep looking forward. You’ll want to speak to the side or turn your head, to see my facial expressions. But,” she paused. Anna heard the smile step into her voice and she couldn’t help the one that grew to match, “part of this exercise is to trust what you feel and hear coming from the other person, without relying on what you see. Is that still okay?”

Anna straightened again. From the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, she felt a peace steal over her. Maybe it was something about the position, or maybe it was the rhythm of Elsa’s breath. She wrapped that feeling around her like a cloak, snug, overlapping her heart.

In answer, she continued where she left off.

“At the end of last session I… wasn’t myself. I shouldn’t have left like that. Shouldn’t have left you like that. You didn’t deserve it, especially because, well, it wasn’t your fault.” Anna shifted, attempting to look over her shoulder before remembering Elsa’s advice. “I want to make that very clear: you, Elsa? Did nothing wrong. In fact, you did everything right. You just, pah-,” Anna made a little outward motion with her hands, a small explosion, “made everything work, just for a moment.” Anna felt more than heard Elsa’s small giggle against her back and felt her ears get hot. “Yeah I’m, not always the best with words.”

“It’s more common than you think,” Elsa replied. Anna saw her move her hand out of the corner of her eye. “When you can’t see someone it’s normal to raise your voice and use your hands more, since you’re still trying to get your point across with less to work with.” There was that laugh again, hitching against her ribs. “Though I get the feeling you talk with your hands anyway.”

“My family knows not to keep glassware around me after dinner, yes,” Anna snorted. “And Kristoff stocks the break room with extra napkins, just for me.” She rolled her eyes. “Real charmer that one.”

“I think you mentioned this man, Kristoff, the last time you were here too,” Elsa said softly. “He must mean a lot to you.”

“Yeah!” Anna beamed. “He was the first friend I made at my job and now…,” she paused, considering, “well now I think he’s my best friend.”

Elsa made a noise of curiosity, a little wordless question. “I would have thought he was your brother, the way you sound when you talk about him.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Anna sighed, leaning back into Elsa. “It’s probably because we hug and hold hands and he gives me piggy back rides across the parking lot just for the fun of it. I tried to give him one once and nearly broke my knee. I’m strong, but he’s a mountain man.” Anna laughed to herself. “Actually, people think we’re dating most of the time.”

“Oh?” Elsa sounded genuinely surprised, the sound bouncing high off the walls, “you’re not?”

“Nnnnnope!” Anna replied, popping the ‘p’. “I mean he’s sweet and all: attentive, caring, soft-hearted. Anyone would be lucky to have him. But I’ve never thought of him that way.”

Instantly Anna felt a flush creep up her neck, and she sat forward. “W-Well,” she stammered, “not like that like that, I mean. Sure he can be charming in a rough sort of way sometimes and it feels really nice to be held in his arms because he’s so much bigger than me and yes we buy each other gifts just because we know it’ll make the other person happy b-but… I…” she swallowed, staring at the bed spread past her legs. “N-Not like, the anything that comes after… all that.” Anna fussed with the hair behind her ear, self-conscious. “But I suppose if I had to pick a dude, he’d be really great.”

Anna thought she heard an, “Oh,” from Elsa again but she wasn't sure. She realized they weren’t touching anymore, and in the same heartbeat realized that she’d sort of, almost, accidentally come out to Elsa.

A pit opened in her stomach, enough that her heart dropped just a little, enough for anxiety to find a little home and buzz through her chest.

It was a soft ball, an underhand throw, of a coming out, easily brushed aside or misinterpreted. Elsa was professional, she probably wouldn’t even ask.

Anna really wanted her to ask. But she also really didn’t.

But mostly she just didn’t want Elsa to feel weird about her.

“Anna?”

Elsa was looking at her, over her own shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Anna blinked. “Am I--. Of course I’m okay. Oh, shit,” she scooched backwards until she felt Elsa’s waist again and leaned back, touching her head to Elsa’s. “I left the position, sorry.”

Elsa was quiet for a moment, and Anna swore she could feel Elsa’s thoughts winding themselves down her spine. But Elsa’s next words held only warmth. “It’s more about the exercise than anything else,” she said, and Anna could tell she was still speaking over her shoulder, directly to her. “You can leave it at any time, for any reason. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, promise,” Anna twisted to face Elsa. “I think I’m just really bad at… explaining… myself…”

Elsa’s eyes softened and for a moment Anna couldn’t see anything else. They were so close. She’d turned and now they were breathing the same air. Inches. Centimeters.

He used to call this kissing distance.

“Anna?”

“Yes?” Anna murmured. Every nerve in her body was aware of itself. Her skin prickled with their energy, thorned as a rose.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Ever,” Elsa stated firmly. She leaned back into Anna, the smallest upward turn on her lips. “I don’t need to understand to care.”

But Anna saw that she did understand. And better, that Elsa wasn’t afraid of her, or anything Anna brought with her.

And that was… a lot.

Anna closed her eyes, took a deep breath--

And flopped down against the plush mattress.

She heard Elsa laugh behind her hand as she opened her eyes. “Too much?” Elsa asked, humor making lines around her eyes.

“No, not too much, just,” Anna mulled her words over, “you make it sound so easy. You make this so easy,” Anna gestured with both hands to the space above her head broadly, encapsulating the room and everything in it, physical and immaterial. “I started out apologizing, and those thoughts were all tangled up in my head because I wanted to be sincere and make this time different and it is different, so different, and I guess now I’m just, really… really grateful.”

Elsa nodded as Anna finished. “There’s a part of me that wants to say, ‘Well, it’s my job after all’, but I really am glad that I’ve been able to help, Anna.” She laid herself down too, on her side, propping her head up on her hand. “And in case you’re the kind of person that needs to hear it: I forgive you, Anna, so you don’t need to apologize anymore.”

A great breath washed out of Anna. She stared up at the ceiling, arms outstretched. “Thank you.”

After a brief pause, Elsa replied, “I’d actually already forgiven you, before you got here.”

Anna sat up on her elbows. “What? Why? I hadn’t even said anything yet!”

“It was the fact that you called at all.”

“But--! That doesn’t…”

Elsa held up her hand and shook her head. “You’re overthinking it,” she said gently, “which is alright, since that’s what I pegged you for anyway.”

Anna went to reply but stopped herself, trapping the air in her cheek. Then, she said, “You know, it’s not terribly cuddly to insult your clients, Elsa.”

“Hmm, true,” Elsa acquiesced, though her tone begged to differ. “What I mean is, you struck me as a ‘Thinker’ is all, even on your first visit.”

“A ‘Thinker’?” Elsa nodded again. “Like the guy who sits on a rock all serious-like?”

“Not quite,” Elsa chuckled, “although at times I’m sure that makes for a good analogy. I can explain it for you, but we’re still on your time here.” Elsa sat up, cross-legged, similar to Anna’s first visit. “The last few times I’ve been making the suggestions to help you relax, but I saw you take initiative when you first got here, and I want you to feel like this is your space as well. Now, as much as you’re comfortable, what do you want me to do?”

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Anna gulped. It wasn’t that big of an ask, and it made sense. Boundaries, two sets. A middle ground of mutually agreed upon comfort and engagement. She could do this.

Elsa sat patiently, in no rush at all. Anna looked back up at the ceiling and pondered. Suddenly a phantom feeling stole over her. Another time, another place. Someone warm next to her. A starlit sky above, cold ground below.

“On my stomach,” Anna said out loud. She turned her head and saw Elsa’s bewildered expression. “Sometimes when Kristoff and I hang out we lay on each other, and we’ll put our heads on the other’s belly.” Anna felt her face heat up a little, knowing it sounded more intimate than it really was. At least, not that way, but people usually didn’t believe that. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can think of another one.”

“Won’t I be too heavy?”

Anna blinked. “Huh?”

“Won’t it hurt?” Elsa rephrased. “Heads weigh more than people think, and stomachs are notoriously soft.”

A beat passed.

Then Anna laughed.

At first it was small, like the quick kind of chortle and dash of amusement from an inside joke, but it rapidly changed to loud, full from her chest laughter, curling her legs towards her ribs in an attempt to contain it. Elsa’s concern was so endearing, and it soothed parts of Anna that were still hidden in the dark, but it was also utterly silly, too.

And that made the last trace of Anna’s trepidation disappear like mist in the morning.

“Notorious is a strong word,” Anna managed past her giggles. “I’m not sure who told you that, but maybe that’s just about your head.” One of Elsa’s eyebrows raised to acknowledge the comment, but as smooth as she tried to pass herself off, Anna could see how her mouth twitched with her own tamped laughter.

“It’s not terribly cuddly to insult your local professional, Anna,” she mimicked, sending Anna back into hysterics.

“I’ll… be fine,” Anna wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye as she flattened out again. “Kristoff is literally twice your size, I think I’ll make it.”

“Okay well,” Elsa lowered herself down, resting the back of her head lightly on Anna’s side with barely any weight at all. “Like this?”

“Yeah except you’re going to put your neck out like that,” Anna teased. “I said it was okay, Elsa. Trust me this time.”

After a moment of hesitation Elsa moved further back until she was fully settled, her shoulders hitting Anna’s hip and lower ribs. She sighed, making a few more adjustments until Anna could tell she was comfortable too.

They breathed in silence for a while, listening to each other. Anna realized she hadn’t eaten in a while and worried, briefly, that her body might make that fact known, but she supposed it wasn’t anything Elsa hadn’t heard before.

“So what were you saying earlier?” Anna re-broached the subject. “About how I… think things too much?”

“It’s not always the amount that you’re thinking,” Elsa chuckled. Anna felt the sound reverberate across her stomach and chest, warm and light. Elsa talked upwards, her head rising and falling in time with Anna’s breathing. “People process things in a lot of different ways, but many find that conceptualizing two categories - Thinking and Feeling - helps them more easily navigate those styles. Some people analyze and scrutinize and run over scenarios from as many angles as they can, and sometimes they do that to an excessive amount, which can cause more anxiety than it reduces. And some people,” she reached out and patted the bedspread. It was probably just to indicate that she was speaking about Anna, like the back to back exercise where they couldn’t see each other, but for some reason Anna reached out too, and put her hand beneath Elsa’s. She heard Elsa smile as she continued explaining, curling their fingers together. “Some people just have emotions that drift and bounce and trace around their body all the time. They’ll sit with a feeling until they’ve experienced all that it can give. Maybe they experience joy that floats them for hours, but they also feel sadness that sinks them into a sea of their own making.” Elsa turned her face towards Anna. “I’m fairly certain you’re the first one.”

“Huh.” Anna thought for a moment, feeling Elsa’s weight with every inhale. “So you’re a Feeler then?”

A smile tugged at Elsa’s lips. “How did you know?”

Anna shrugged. “I didn’t really, I just guessed.” She looked back up, rubbing the back of Elsa’s hand idly with the pad of her thumb. “Although, now that I think about it, you’ve always been thought-ful. Always checking in on me, asking me good questions --those always felt more experienced than logical though, if that makes sense. But the reasoning behind them seems more intuitive, like you just… know.” Anna paused, struck by something. “Actually, I didn’t have the word for it then, but I think I noticed it back when I called you.”

“To… schedule this appointment?” Elsa asked, sounding a little mystified.

“Yeah. It was in the way your voice changed when--,” and now Anna stopped because she felt embarrassment crawling up the nape of her neck. “When I said I wanted to see you again.”

“Oh.” Elsa turned her head to look at Anna. She had the smallest grimace on her face. “Sorry, that was pretty unprofessional of me.”

“On the contrary, I think checking to make sure your clients aren’t developing that kind of attachment to you is probably the most professional thing to do.”

“Well the paperwork helps,” Elsa hummed, “but you’re not wrong. Thankfully I haven’t encountered that problem yet, but I know some co-workers have.”

“It makes sense. I mean, this is the kind of thing most people imagine couples doing.”

Elsa shrugged. “Not everywhere. There are places where this is normal for family and friends, where physical affection isn’t locked behind the potential marital status of the individuals. And frankly, it’s normal here too, but not everyone experiences intimacy the same way.”

Intimacy.

The word clings to Anna’s throat, even though she hadn’t said it. A tightness, a dark line from neck to stomach, pooling invisibly around light Elsa’s hair.

“That’s good!” Anna blustered. “For them I mean, the people who get it. Wait no, not that the people who don’t feel that way are like-- What I mean to say is that that’s good! That people do that, somewhere: here, there, anywhere. I didn’t mean to say that people who don’t are doing bad, just, like, ‘Hey, good for them!’, you know?” She smacked her free hand over her eyes with a groan. “Grammar and statement of purpose have abandoned me. Feel free to tell me to stop talking whenever.” She felt Elsa’s laughter in the bunching of her shoulders against her stomach.

“Thinker,” Elsa chastised warmly.

And then it just became… chatter.

Catching up, laughing at anecdotes, learning about the other. Elsa asked about Anna’s job and Anna responded that she was training some promising new hires who were positively electric about their fields. Anna asked Elsa about her day job, making a mental note to check out a charity event a few blocks from her work. The first appointment seemed like a lifetime ago, and now that the air was clear and they’d settled, a lifetime seemed like just the thing to fill up the room.

Until Elsa scrunched her eyes up and said, “Okay, I think we’ve got to change positions, I’m getting a little dizzy.”

“I get it,” Anna empathized, “it’s the ups and downs. It gets a little disorienting”

“Yeah.” Elsa sat up and blinked hard a few times, her hand splayed out wide on the bed to keep balance. They’d kept them mostly entwined over the last part of their session, but Anna couldn’t help talking with her hands and it turned out that, at times, neither could Elsa.

Anna stretched, feeling like a cat in a sunbeam. She was as comfy as she was last time with her head in Elsa’s lap, but this time she knew the timer couldn’t surprise her. That enough words had passed between them for old wounds to not rear their heads. And while she didn’t anticipate it, for that would mean the end of her time with Elsa (for now), she did acknowledge it’s reality, and she was not afraid.

But she was damn cozy though.

“You look like you could fall asleep right there,” she heard Elsa say above her head. Anna opened her eyes to mirthful blue.

“I think you’re right,” Anna agreed, blocking a yawn with her hand.

“You’re welcome to take a nap. It’s--”

“--More common than you’d think,” Anna recited at the same time, making Elsa hide a smile behind her hand. There was a lot that Anna had learned in her short time here, but mostly that her knowledge of what people did when they felt safe and comforted was different than she’d expected. But it was a good kind of wrong to be, the eye-opening kind. The kind that made your heart feel a little bigger and softer. “You say that a lot.”

“Well it’s true!”

“I don’t doubt it,” Anna held up her hands, placating. “I’m just saying, it’s like your catchphrase.” Anna swept her outstretched arm in an arc, wiggling her fingers, “‘The more you know!’, with Elsa, the Cuddle Expert.”

Elsa bumped her arm. “You’re a tease. But I mean it, you’ve got time. Even if you don’t fall asleep, laying back and relaxing is part of cuddling you know.”

Anna stifled another yawn and turned onto her side. “I’ll at least sleep on top of the covers,” she replied, her voice dropping as she closed her eyes. “That way you don’t have to wash all the sheets.”

“Well they get washed anytime they’re used, and there’s spares in the hall closets but…,” she heard Elsa snicker, “you really think of everything, don’t you?”

“I think that joke has already run its course,” Anna smiled, then patted the open space in front of her invitingly. “C’mon, you might as well get a break too--.”

The bed dipped behind her.

“Well I can at least keep you warm this way; it’s kind of a classic cuddling position.”

The words were joking and light, Elsa’s voice so close to her ear, practically glowing.

“I don’t know who designed these rooms,” the voice continued, “but they let the air blow right above us. It gets incredibly chilly sometimes, and that’s coming from me of all people!” Forearms braced themselves against her spine, legs pressed against the back of her own, and soft exhales tickled the baby hairs at the nape of Anna’s neck.

And suddenly Anna was not at Cuddle Corner.

Her vision tunneled. The opposite wall retreated, backing itself down a long, dark corridor. Her peripherals feathered, the thorned, hyper-awareness from before screeching back, focused on the blazing points of contact between them.

Anna?

Her back was a ramrod, a live wire. When she breathed the air had nowhere to go, her lungs shallow and tight.

Breath on her neck and hands on her shoulders.

“Anna?”

Elsa’s voice.

Anna gasped, air traveling deeper, chest expanding, and the room returned to normal. Anna licked her lips, nerves settling under her skin, buzzing inside her ribs to join the dark feathers still flitting and hovering there.

“Maybe we should switch.” The words were strained but Anna tried to make them sound casual. To make them sound less like they hurt and more like before, just moments before when everything was perfect.

“...Are you sure?” Elsa replied over Anna’s shoulder. She’d moved away, touch gone, leaving phantom prints behind. Anna hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay…”

The bed moved again. A moment later Elsa lowered herself down in front of Anna, facing away. Her braid was pulled over her shoulder, out of reach, exposing the light skin of her neck. Unable to see Elsa’s expression, Anna swallowed the dark, heavy thing inside her throat and attempted to gauge Elsa’s mood through posture alone.

“You can come close,” Elsa said. A simple and straightforward invitation, but Anna thought she heard an edge creep into it, like something was slicing each letter off at the joint.

“R-Right. ‘Cuddle Corner’,” Anna said with feigned cheer, a little fain-fair. She laughed. Elsa laughed.

It was weird.

Slowly, uncertainty running under her palm, Anna reached her arm across Elsa’s chest. Her legs came up under Elsa’s until their bodies were nearly flush. She could smell Elsa’s shampoo, and felt her breathing against the crook of her elbow.

And she could tell immediately that Elsa wasn’t comfortable either.

There was a weight in the room, a miasma escaping the seams between their bodies. It scraped between Anna’s fingers, threatening to lift her hand up entirely, and take it away. Her eyes unfocused, the lines of Elsa’s body becoming blurred, trembling the way heat makes the air waver and shake.

Elsa turned her head, so Anna could see the barest corner of her eye. “You’re pushing yourself,” she said quietly.

Anna tightened her grip, a wordless promise, but stopped when Elsa flinched. “I’m not.”

I’m not, she told herself. Elsa is a good person. People do this all the time, even friends! This position, spooning… it’s about comfort, not anything else. Just… stop being all up in your head about this.

But Anna could sense herself backpedaling, falling backwards into herself. Right in front of her was the shell of Elsa's ear, the slope of her neck, the curl of her white-blonde hair before it twisted into her braid -- and it made Anna wonder...

Was this... it? Was this what made people fall? A quiet moment, a scrap of skin. Was this enough to make them... feel?

Had it made him feel something, looking at Anna like this?

Warm fingers thread through hers, a bobber dropped into the well of her thoughts. Elsa's hand didn’t hold the sting of fear, and like sunlight on murky water a balm spread at her touch, expanding with each even breath.

But this time, it wasn’t enough.

Anna's thoughts rushed around her head, swirling, clinging, flying like beads snapped away from a string cut under stress. No longer sentences but fragments, worries and doubts in a whirlpool, sucking her down. What hadn't she done? What else could she do? How could she be so cold? Why couldn't she do this, for him? For anyone?

Why wasn't she enough?

The trembling started in her shoulders. She couldn’t stop it anymore than she could stop time. Her arm shook and by the time it reached her wrist Anna silently begged Elsa not to notice.

But of course she did.

Elsa turned in their embrace, her eyes widening for just a moment before she cupped Anna’s face, lightly, so light with her first touches, before brushing away a tear.

Anna hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“It’s okay Anna, you’re safe here.”

Anna hiccuped, her chest stuttering as more tears splashed against Elsa’s thumbs. She found Elsa’s forearms and held her tight, needing something beneath her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely.

Elsa shook her head. “Don’t be. You’ve apologized more than you’ve ever needed.”

Then Elsa’s forehead is nestled against Anna’s own. Anna doesn’t know how to react as Elsa’s eyes slip closed and she breathes slowly, carefully, like she’s counting the second. Anna feels herself matching the time, even as the sobs she harbored keep trying to find a way out. They get smaller, a boulder, then a rock, then a pebble in her lungs. Elsa’s soft exhales washed over Anna’s face, her very presence a well of tranquility, like immersing one’s hand in the cool waters of a brook. Elsa felt like flowing water, a place Anna could lay down the things that dragged her down, setting them adrift, letting the current carry them for a while.

Anna didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Long enough for the tears to start to dry, and the rawness of her throat to begin healing. But it couldn’t last forever.

Again the patter of rain, the rumble of thunder, and the distant, muted buzz of Elsa’s phone vibrating across the room. Anna exhaled a shuddering breath.

“The timer,” she croaked, voice like sludge, addled by tears.

“Ignore it,” Elsa murmured, pressing her face closer.

“B-But it’s over--”

“It’s okay.”

Anna attempted to shake her head, but Elsa merely brushed her cheeks with her thumbs. “You have another client. Another appointment.”

“I don’t.”

“Elsa…”

“Anna.” Elsa opened her eyes.

This close, Anna couldn’t mistake what she saw. Even if she didn’t have a name for it. And maybe there wasn’t a name to call the emotion heavy in Elsa’s eyes -- the eyes of a still-stranger, an almost-friend -- but whatever it was settled the last prickling nerve in Anna’s heart, soothed the last lash in Anna’s memory, and finally let her breathe long enough to listen. “I don’t have another appointment, you were my last for the day. An extra minute isn’t going to hurt anyone.” Elsa watched Anna’s face as she combed stray hairs back behind Anna’s ear. “I don’t want you leaving this place thinking you have to shoulder everything you came in with. It’s okay to leave some of it here, here with me, if that helps.” She smiled, her eyes wet. “It’s my job to make you feel comfortable, relaxed. But I also want you to feel that way, as Elsa, as me. I think you have a lot going on, and I want to help with that if… if you’ll let me.”

This time Anna closed her eyes, overwhelmed again. Unconsciously she leaned more into Elsa’s touch, which was enough for Elsa to continue. “You don’t have to decide today. Just know that I’m here for you, if you need me. But for now just,” and she shrugged, the motion taking Anna’s head with her, causing them both to laugh, “leave the timer be. It’ll take care of itself.”

They stayed like that. The timer silenced itself, and with the quiet came rest. Anna knew she didn’t fall asleep, but she thought she might when Elsa started playing with her hair again. Eventually, Anna knew she had to go and rolled over, sliding her shoes back on her feet. She heard Elsa do the same as Anna gathered her things.

“Should I expect another call?” Anna turned, shouldering her bag. Elsa sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, expectant.

Though she knew her cheeks were already blotchy from tears, Anna felt another emotion color her face, and instead of feathers in her chest there were butterflies in her stomach.

"Yeah," she returned, putting a hand on the back of her neck. "But I think I'm going to have to do some thinking first, again. Which I'm sure you already expected."

"Maybe a little." Elsa tilted her head, never losing her warmth. "But take all the time you need. And talk to others, too. Kristoff seems like a good place to start, if you haven't already."

Anna snorted, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. "Oh don't worry, I'm sure he's left three voicemails by now wondering how this all went."

"And how did it go?”

Anna beamed. “Better.”

“Such glowing praise,” Elsa teased. “I’ll take it I suppose.”

Anna took a step back, towards the door, then hesitated, and turned back.

"More to say?" Elsa asked.

"Um..." Anna paused, then blushed again. "Actually, I did, but now I can't really find the words. It was ‘thank you’, again, but then there was other stuff and it got a little lost."

Elsa hummed at that, propping her chin up in her hand. "Knowing you, even for a short time, I'm sure they'll work themselves out eventually. Probably with hand motions."

Anna laughed and agreed. "Probably with hand motions. And maybe sound effects."

“You'll have to tell me,” Elsa smiled lightly, showing bright in her eyes. “Next time?”

Anna smiled back. “Next time.”

#please let me edit my tags you pos website >xD #OH I CAN DO IT ON MOBILE BUT NOT DESKTOP 🤣🤣🤣 I hate >xD #[clears throat] .....anyway #Cuddle Corner (Part 2)#my writing #fruipit #Anna #Elsa #not that I’m not confident but fingers crossed that you (and y’all) like it #Client!Anna #Cuddler!Elsa #wow these tags are literally 5 years old WOW #but I’ll add these too:#ace!Anna #asexual!Anna #I’m going to eat now though bc I’m STARVING I skipped dinner to finish this and get it posted #laser focus - but now I hUNGER #time to go eat my fridge

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charlie-boio · 4 years

Text

Learning to Love Again - Part 1

Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Word Count: 6089

A/N: Hey hey!! So this is the start of my new series for @writingsbychlo Mitch Month. She also helped me develop this idea which I am very grateful for! This will be a mutual healing fic for both Mitch and the reader, so please enjoy while I take you on a journey. I love this idea so much so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!

WARNINGS: gun violence, talks of past abuse, domestic violence, emotional abuse, mentions of panic attacks.

“Stay away from me!” you back away slowly, your arms extended shakily out in front of you. Unfortunately, you were running out of space and your back hit a wall.

“You really thought you could leave me? ME? Who else will have you, you worthless bitch!” Jake slammed his hand against the wall next to your head. You flinched, jerking your head away. He was uncomfortably close, his breath hot against you, his glare piercing right through you.

“Please…go away…” you whimpered, tears falling freely now. You felt yourself shrink into yourself more and more, internally begging whatever God was out there to let you escape this situation.

Apparently, He wasn’t listening.

Jake moved even closer; his chest pressed hard against yours. “You’re staying right here, with me. I’m not going anywhere,”

Feeling as though you had nothing left to lose, you jerked your head forward, ramming it up into his nose. Jake yelled out, stumbling back clutching his nose, blood dripping through his fingers. Your eyes went wide for a split second before you bolted, running down the stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door. You weren’t sure what to do or where you were going to go, but right now the adrenaline coursing through your veins wasn’t concerned about a plan. All you were concerned about was getting away.

A loud clap came roaring through the air, followed by an extreme pain tearing through your side. A loud shriek echoed, and for a split second you turned to see if anyone was hurt before realizing the screams and cries were your own. The starry sky above you began to blur away, voices shouting around you that began to blur together with your vision. Eventually a face came into your view, but by that point you were too far gone.

Now you were in darkness.

Falling…falling…falling…

You jerked awake, sitting up in your bed. Your hand remained clamped onto your side while you gasped for air. You tried your best to remember what your Dr. Hanson had said to you, but her words died in your head, feeling frustratingly out of reach.

After a few painstakingly long minutes, your gasps turned into deeper breaths. Your eyes glanced around the room, taking in your new surrounds. You went through a mantra in your head ‘This isn’t Jake’s house in Los Angles. This is your apartment that he cannot get into. He’s currently in jail, and he cannot hurt you.’ You repeated that to yourself a few more times until it truly stuck in your head.

Tentatively, you touched the scar on your left side, feeling the raised mark against your skin. You said your last mantra out loud, “It was only a dream…”

Knowing sleep wouldn’t come back to you, you got up and stretched. Picking at your fingers, you glanced at the clock. 4:58. You smiled a little to yourself. Dr. Hanson would be proud of you for sleeping in an hour longer than last week, though she’ll be disappointed you couldn’t get a night without nightmares. That thought killed your mood slightly as you got up and made your way to the kitchen.

Your apartment was small, with only one bedroom since you didn’t know anyone who would come to see you. The living room and kitchen were connected, and you had a lovely little porch outside of the living room on the third floor of your apartment building. There wasn’t much to your apartment since Jake made sure you didn’t have many possessions anymore, but you were proud of it, nonetheless.

You settled on the couch, flicking through different channels on your bulky TV until you found a show that was mind numbing enough for you to watch. The thought of eating crossed your mind for a split second before you shook it from your mind. You weren’t hungry, you never were in the mornings anymore.

Besides, after your session today you go to the coffee shop down the street, and that would be a lot of your calories for the day.

Instead, you sat there watching the screen, but your eyes and ears weren’t really focusing on it. You just needed the noise to distract you from hearing Jake’s voice ringing in your head. Or maybe by now it was your own voice. Quite honestly, you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

You blinked and apparently now the sun was up. You blinked rapidly a few more times and rubbed your eyes together. A surge of panic raced through you as you checked the time before immediately sighing and seeing that it was only 8:28 now. You still had about another hour before you had to leave. Since you had the time, you decided to shower before heading over to Dr. Hanson’s office. You walked into the bathroom and clicked the lock on the door. Even though you lived by yourself you always locked the door. You didn’t think you could relax without it. Turning on the water, you stepped out of your clothes and made sure it was a slightly too hot temperature before stepping in.

Showering was another way for you to shut out your past trauma and memories, and perhaps it wasn’t healthy, but right now you didn’t know how else you could deal with Jake’s pounding in your head, and there wasn’t anyone you were close to anymore who could tell you that this was wrong, other than Dr. Hanson. All you wanted was a moment of peace, so you’d spend way too long just standing in the water, letting it wash over your skin before rushing through washing your hair and body and hopping out.

Unfortunately, the shower took a little longer than you thought it would, and by the time you got out, changing into a plain white t-shirt with leggings and tennis shoes, it was already 9:42. You should’ve left 12 minutes ago.

Your eyes widened at the clock while your heart began to race. Fuck, fuck, fuck! You thought to yourself miserably and you ran out the door. You didn’t want to seem like a freak, so you instead walked a little faster than normal as you made your way to Dr. Hanson’s office. Thankfully, you still arrived by 8:56, four minutes early. You still felt the familiar pool of guilt in your stomach as you sat down and waited for Dr. Hanson to call you back.

You bounced your knee while looking down and picking at your fingers, opening the barely healed scabs that were around them. You glanced up at the secretary Trevor, who didn’t meet your eye as he was typing away at his laptop, looking over all the therapists’ schedules for the day.

You looked over to your right to see someone else sitting, his leg crossed over with his foot resting against his knee. His dark hair was a little on the longer side, but the look suited him well, along with the dark wash jeans and black t-shirt that clung to him well. A few moles scattered across his face; some you couldn’t see quite as well beneath the stubble he had. You couldn’t help but feel like he was out of place; he looked completely at ease, slouching in his chair while he read one of the community magazines they offered. He looked like everyone else, someone who didn’t have nearly as many fucked up problems as you did.

You had seen him here a few times, showing up every other Sunday, and while he spoke warmly to everyone he’s interacted with (Trevor), but he looks like he just keeps to himself. Still, he looked so calm to you. It’d be nice to have that in your life.

His golden eyes flicked up to yours, making eye contact with you. You jumped and immediately casted your eyes down to your fingers, resuming your picking. It’s impolite to stare, Jake’s voice echoed in your head. And he was right. Your head began to pound. Rude, rude, rude, RUDE!

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up at Trevor’s voice, meeting his gaze. He smiled politely at you. “Dr. Hanson’s waiting for you. You can go right in.”

You nodded and mumbled a thanks under your breath and you gathered yourself up and wait past Trevor’s desk. You could feel the other man’s eyes on you, but you refused to acknowledge him.

You sat in Dr. Hanson’s office, adjusting yourself left and right, continuing to bounce your leg. Her office was rather small, nothing super extravagate. It was painted a pale blue, with her desk turned to face the large window. On the sides were bookshelves, which were filled with different classical reads you recognized. In the far corner was a cat tower, where Herbert was sleeping lazily, and in the center laid a rug with two couches on it, one of which you were sitting in. You crossed your legs politely, and you kept your head low, keeping your gaze down at your hands, which picking at the skin around your fingernails.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?”

Your head snapped up; eyes wide. Fuck. You were definitely not paying attention.

“Um…I-I’m sorry, Dr. Hanson” you mumbled, casting your eyes back down and sinking further into your chair.

“It’s alright, I simply made the observation that you hadn’t been working on what we discussed this past week.”

Double fuck. She’d asked you to work on not picking at the skin around your fingers, and you had agreed that it was something you needed and would work on. In all honestly, you had completely forgotten about it; you were really wrapped up in doing your own thing and just trying to survive.

You contemplated lying, but that didn’t work out too well last week. Not that Dr. Hanson got angry with you; she never seemed to ever get mad with you. Disappointed, maybe, but never mad, and now that you thought about it, she never even seemed disappointed either.

You forced yourself to make eye contact, something else she had asked you to work on that you never did. “No, I haven’t. I’m really sorry.” You said, voice raised to be slightly above the mumble you usually went with nowadays.

Dr. Hanson took notice and smiled at you encouragingly. “That’s okay. Would you feel comfortable trying again next week? Or should we adjust a our strategy?”

You shook your head. “No, I want to try again. I really just forgot about it, Dr. Hanson, but I want to try and focus on it this week. If that doesn’t work, then we can try something else. I want to try and get better.”

“I know it’s hard for you to see, but you already are doing better than before. It’s small, yes, and it may not feel like something worth feeling proud over, but I can assure you it absolutely is. How’s your routine been doing, for example,” Dr. Hanson asked while scribbling something down in her notebook.

“Really well,” you answered. And it was. Until you heard Dr. Hanson say so, you just now realize that your routine had been something you greatly improved on. Until you thought about your nightmares, suddenly a pit fell through to your stomach. “Um…I’m not too sure you’ll like my routine…” you lowered your voice as you spoke.

“Would you mind telling me anyways?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t mind. Um…so I still have nightmares every night. It’s never the same incident, unless it’s…that night. Um, so I’ll usually wake up around 3:30 to 4:30. Somewhere in there. Um, then I’ll make a cup of coffee…but Decaf. I only have regular coffee on Sundays, so I’ll just watch TV until around 7:00, then I’ll shower and get ready for work which starts at 9:00, and then 4:00 I’ll go home and take a walk for about an hour or so. Then I’ll dinner and then I’ll…try to sleep,” you finished with a nod.

Dr. Hanson was nodding along, a smile on her face as she happily took notes while you spook. When she finished, she looked up at you. “What do you usually do on weekends?”

“Um…well nothing. Just watch TV, maybe read something. On Sundays I come see you and then go to this little coffee shop down the street, but other than that I don’t do anything,” you said, and honestly even reading was a small lie. You used to read a lot, almost five books a week. But after this past year, you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you read a book.

Dr. Hanson gave you a questioning look but decided against saying anything. “Can I ask a nudge question?” she asked.

Nudge and push questions. Nudges were topics that for you were uncomfortable to talk about but wouldn’t be panic attack inducing. It was mostly the “after-effects” of your and Jake’s relationship. Pushes were scarier and were questions specifically about what he did during your relationships. When you had first started out with therapy, you struggled to open up and it was awkward, and a little tense. However, once you developed this nudge and push system, it made your sessions go much smoother, especially if you weren’t ready to talk about certain things.

You took a deep breath and nodded, “I’m ready,” you answered.

“Can you tell me what your nightmares were about this week? If any of them are pushes, you don’t have to talk about them,”

Herbert had woken and was moving up on the couch and into your lap, so you were petting him as you thought it over. “Can I keep them brief?” you asked, a slight waver in your voice.

“Of course, whatever you feel comfortable with,” Dr. Hanson smiled at you encouragingly.

“Okay, well, most of them were from…that night. That’s usually when I would wake up, too. One of them was the day he locked me in the closet, only he never lets me out and I slowly shrivel away, and the last one was when we first met. Everyone was giving him weird looks, but I didn’t know what was wrong. Then he tore off his face and turned into a demon, and everyone was laughing at me…” Herbert cuddled into you closer, his big green eyes looking at you expectedly. It took you a second to realize you’d stopped petting him.

“Do you believe that dreams have any significance to your daily life?”

Nope, you thought. “I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Well, some might say in your latest dream, the one where Jake is a demon, that you blame yourself for not seeing it the signs sooner, and that everyone around you was able to see through it immediately. Would that have some semblance to real life at all?”

Whoops. You sighed. “…but it is true. I didn’t see it.”

“Y/n, a lot of people didn’t see it. Jake had a job, normal friends, and you both had neighbors that you regularly interacted. All of them didn’t see what was happening either. Do you blame them as well?”

“No, but-“

“Then it’s not your fault either. I know it’ll take some time for you to fully see this, but you were manipulated and groomed. This happens to people all over the world, and it’s no one’s fault but the person who did this to you, and you’ve been building your life back.”

Tears were lining your eyes now. “But-but I don’t feel like I’m accomplishing anything. I don’t feel better, and somehow even though he’s gone, I don’t feel free from him,” you blinked, and the tears fell.

“It’ll take time. Lots of time. Two years is a long relationship to undo, and it’ll be very hard I won’t lie, but you’re a strong girl. A survivor. You can get through this, I know it.” Dr. Hanson was able to say it with such confidence that you almost believed it.

Glancing at the clock, you realized 50 minutes had passed. Somehow, it still shocked you how much time flew by during these sessions.

“One last thing before we call it a day, sound good?”

“Okay,” you wiped your tears from your face.

Dr. Hanson handed you a tissue before continuing, “How about your job? You’ve been doing that for about two months now, and I haven’t heard you talk about it much.”

“Oh, it’s going good. I mostly just answer phones and organize people’s schedules. It’s a simple job, but I’ve been liking it a lot.”

“Have you made any friends?” Slowly, you shook your head. You barely spoke to anyone outside of the mandatory meetings to go over their upcoming week.

“Okay, are you up for another task to work on? You don’t have to accomplish it this week if you don’t want to, but maybe something to keep in mind, okay?” you nodded for her to continue. She smiled and said, “Make a friend. Maybe someone to join you at your coffee shop? Or someone to grab lunch with on Saturdays. You’ve been living here for almost three months, so make some roots; someone to talk to other than me. Give it some thought for me, okay?”

Herbert jumped off you, signaling the end of your session. You sat there for a moment. Another person scared you. Right now, you had your safe little bubble with you and Dr. Hanson. Anyone else was untrustworthy. What if they were like Jake?

Still, you knew it was unrealistic to shut everyone out, and if you were being honest, it’s been lonely. “…okay. I-I’ll try,” you said slowly.

Dr. Hanson smiled brightly at you while finishing up her notes. When she was done, she’d bid you a good day, and you left her office.

Walking down the street, you started thinking it over a bit more. You hadn’t even thought about starting over your life or making new friends. Thinking it over, you realized that’s probably why Dr. Hanson was pushing you to get a job in the first place.

Therapists are sneaky…

That wasn’t true. They just point out obvious information and guide you through. It’s not her fault that your oblivious to it.

Turning the corner, you walked into The Roasted Bean. Sunday’s were popular, and today wasn’t an exception. You were about seven people back with everyone else buzzing around the shop, but you didn’t mind; it’s not like you were doing anything anyways. Besides, there were always tables available somehow.

Ben always worked Sundays, so he had gotten to know you briefly, or at least he knew your name. “Hey y/n, what would you like?” he asked warmly.

“Small iced caramel latte with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle please,” It was your usual order, but sometimes you liked to shake it up. Ben nodded at you before quickly going over to make your drink while you stepped aside. You started picking at your fingers, then quickly closed your fists, instead opting to fiddle with your wallet strap instead.

“Y/n?” Ben called, pushing your drink across the counter. You gave him a small smile, grabbing the drink from him. You turned to go to your usually spot to sit down and enjoy your coffee, but found a couple sitting there already. You fumbled for a moment and realized there weren’t any empty seats left.

You took in deep breaths, thinking over your options. You didn’t want to go back to your apartment, you would just lay in front of the TV again, and the park was a far walk from here, so by the time you would get there your coffee would be finished. You scanned the bakery again, hoping to find an empty seat when something caught your eye.

The man from the lobby was sitting at the far corner table, sipping on his coffee while reading a book. You weren’t sure how he found the peace to do that in a coffee shop. Like before, he looked relaxed and calm, something you were still drawn to. Taking another look over, you saw no one else sitting by themselves.

Dr. Hanson’s words echoed through your head. Make a friend.

Your legs were moving before you registered it, walking over to the man. Before you could think of a way to grab his attention, his eyes were already focused on you. They weren’t cold; they had a cautious undertone beneath the warm amber hues.

Still, he smiled at you softly, closing his book.

“Hi,” you said, wincing slightly as the stiffness in your tone.

“Hey, can I help you?” he responded evenly, keeping a pleasant smile on his face, but you could see him stiffen with you, though you had a feeling it was for different reasons.

“Um…” Fuck, this was a lot harder than you thought. “So-well-okay, I usually come to this coffee shop every Sunday and sit over there,” you jerked your thumb in the general direction of your usual spot. “And I usually sit by myself, but there isn’t open seats…and I guess I could you know go outside…or um go home, but I’m still pretty new here, so I was hoping I could sit with you for today?” You shuffled back and forth on your feet, flashing the man a quick smile.

He stared at you for a moment, still analyzing you. “Why me?”

You blushed. You didn’t really have a good answer for that. “Oh, well…I’ve seen you around before, and you seem to be pretty calm and…friendly…or at least able to tolerate someone while they drank coffee and talked about the weather,”

The man still didn’t say anything, his gaze hardened slightly. You were starting to think this was all a big mistake, but before you could open your mouth and apologize, he spoke. “Okay,” he said slowly, still not trusting you. “you can sit here.” He gave you another small smile.

It took you a moment to register what he said before you smiled back, settling down in the seat across from him.

For a few minutes, the two of you sat there uncomfortably, sipping your coffee. Maybe this was a bad idea. He probably changed his mind about you and now thinks you’re too odd to have as friend. I should just leave… As you went to make up an excuse, he spoke up. “What’s your name? I should probably know you a little better if we’re gonna sit together so it’s not like I’m talking to a brick wall.”

You giggled at his comment, “My name’s y/n y/l/n. What’s yours?”

“Mitch. Mitch Rapp.” You nodded, repeating the name to yourself under your breath. “How long ago did you move here?”

“Oh, I’ve only been here for a few months now,” you said.

“Ah, so that’s why I only just now saw you at O’Neil offices,” Mitch said smoothly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, “O’Neil?”

“O’Neil offices yeah, for therapy?”

Your eyes widened; your stomach dropped as you flicked your eyes down.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” Mitch said softly as he gave you a worried look.

“No, no its fine it’s just…I always thought you weren’t supposed to talk about it…” you said, lowering your voice as you talked.

“Oh no, not at all,” Mitch visible relaxed. “I mean, it’s about whatever you feel comfortable with, so if you’d like I’d never bring it up again, but you don’t have to think about it like it’s a bad thing that you’re going or something that you have to keep a secret. It’s for you, and for whatever reasons you’re going.”

“How long have you been going?”

“A little over a year now,” he said. “I, uh, probably should’ve started awhile ago, but better late than never.” Mitch took another long drink of his coffee.

“So…it gets easier?” you asked, voice small.

“Eventually. It takes a lot of work, and a lot of patience. I’m not even where I want to be, but you know, it’s about setting goals for yourself, and you’re always adding and changing them, no matter how big or small they are. My biggest goal right now is to one day look back and see just how far I’ve come, you know?”

You smiled at him. “That…that sounds like a great goal to have,” you said. “I might steal it from you,”

Mitch laughed, and it confused you for a moment before you realized he laughed at the joke you made. It’s been so long since you had any friends you had forgotten what it felt like. You decided to be brave for a moment, “Um, what kind of coffee is that? I’ve always been a big coffee fan and love trying new ones,” You both smiled at each other.

You two stayed in that coffee shop for a while, talking about little things. To some, it may have seemed like a meaningless conversation, but for the both of you, it meant everything. For you, it was another step in taking back your life and placing roots in a place that maybe one day you could call home. And though you didn’t know it, Mitch was opening up to you slowly in a way he hadn’t done with anyone else in a long time. It felt like a positive step, for both of you.

Mitch’s sense of humor was darker than you expected, but so was yours, especially after everything that happened. You laughed and smile more in the short time with Mitch than you have in the past two years of your life. Maybe longer. It felt easy and comfortable, like perhaps you two have known each other your whole lives.

After a particularly long set of giggles, you finally managed to ask, “So, what do you do for a living?”

“Oh, I’m a CIA consultant,” Mitch answered, twirling the now empty coffee cup in his hands.

Your eyebrows shot up, “Holy shit! That’s really impressive,” and you truly thought that. Normally, someone with a violent job like that terrified you, but for some reason, you weren’t scared of Mitch.

“Yeah. A while back I used to work in a Special Forces part of the CIA, and I’m sorry but I can’t tell much more about it, but we would travel a lot and would be involved in the more serious cases. I can’t go into too much detail for obvious reasons, but it kept me distracted. I…had gotten into it for the wrong reasons, so after a few years of doing it I just felt…really empty. And I hated that. I guess you could say my passion for going out into the field had died down. It didn’t satisfy me anymore, and I wasn’t getting…what I wanted out of it. So, I moved to the desk job version of it. Now, I’d only go in the field if it was extremely serious, but they haven’t used me yet. After I moved to that desk job, I started going to therapy. Now here I am,” He gestured to the café you were in. He shifted in his seat, “I, uh, haven’t, told many people that…”

You blushed, before settling on another bold move. You reached out your hand, “Um…can I?” Mitch nodded, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it and squeezed it gently. “I’m…I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. And I get that, you know…the empty feeling…”

If you were really honest, this was the first time you had felt something in a long time. Even if it was just the start of your friendship.

Mitch squeezed your hand back, and you two left it like that on the table. The back of your said that this wasn’t something friends do, but you weren’t really listening to it. Instead, you two sat that, not saying another but not needing to. You could tell that Mitch was holding something back, but you couldn’t blame him. It’s not like you were being an open book yourself.

“What about you?” Mitch asked.

“Well, right now, I’m a secretary at the office down the street. I hope one day I could save enough money to go back to school, so I can finish my degree and become an elementary teacher,” your brain caught up to you, and you realized that you hadn’t told anyone about that dream, not even Dr. Hanson. Your heart quickened just a little bit. Why do I trust him so much? He’s a bigshot CIA member, he probably thinks that’s stupid…

However, Mitch smiled genuinely at you. “I can see that for you,” he said simply.

“R-really?”

“Yeah. I can read people pretty well, and I can just tell by looking at you that it’s something you’re passionate about, and you’d be really good at it,”

Happy tears sprung in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. Dr. Hanson always said she thought you were strong and brave, but somehow you wouldn’t believe her simply because she was your doctor. She was supposed to hype you up and say those things. But hearing that from someone you felt you had made a genuine connection with? It was something you hadn’t heard in a while, and it made you feel that maybe your dreams weren’t worthless after all.

“Thank you for saying that, Mitch. It…means a lot,”

“Meant every word, and I’m an extremely honest person. I promise I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Mitch took a glance at his watch. “Do you live far from here? I would love to keep talking but I have a phone meeting at three that I can’t miss.”

You raised an eyebrow, fishing out your phone, “Three? But it’s only-“ you cut yourself off. It was 2:33. “We’ve been here for three hours?” you exclaimed.

Mitch chuckled, “Yep. Time flies, right? I can walk you to your apartment building, if you don’t mind. Do you live far?”

“Oh, just around the corner,”

You two left the coffee shop, still making some small talk to each other until you arrived outside the apartment building. Mitch turned to you, another soft smile on his face.

“I had a good time. We should do this again.”

“Absolutely! I had a wonderful time,” you said. And it was true, you did.

“Can I have your number then? I’d love to meet up for coffee next Sunday again,” Mitch was pulling out his phone.

“Oh, of course yeah!” you said happily, pulling out your phone. Your mood faltered slightly when you looked at the four pitiful contacts you had in your phone: Dr. Hanson’s number for emergencies, your boss’s number, your landlord’s number, and the only number Jake could never get you to delete.

Mom

You stared at your mother’s contact screen of the two of you together, big grins on your faces while the two of you had been vacationing in Rome. Your mom was always your biggest supporter, and you would never forgive yourself for the things you said to her that night.

Quickly, you pressed the ‘Create A New Contact’ button, looking up at Mitch. If he saw the contact list, he didn’t say anything, which you were grateful for. The two of you exchanged numbers.

“Okay, I’ll text you alright?” Mitch said, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“I’d like that,” you said with a smile.

Mitch stepped towards you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug. You froze for a second, unsure of what to do before melting into it, wrapping your arms around his neck. This feels nice, you thought, and you could’ve stayed like that for the rest of day.

Instead, Mitch pulled back, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead that caused your heart to flutter in a good way.

“See you around,” Mitch said, stepping away and giving you a wave.

“Bye!” you waved back at him as he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. You stood there for a moment, watching him leave before you entered your building.

Walking through your apartment door, you realized a few things: 1. You were still smiling from the hug Mitch gave you. 2. On the walk home, you two had held hands then too, and 3. In the entire time you were talking to Mitch, you hadn’t picked your fingers once.

You sighed happily as you set down your things and headed for the couch. For the first time in a few years, you had had a good day.

#mitch #mitch rapp #mitch month #mitch month fics #mitchtober #mitch rapp x reader #mitch x reader #angst #american assassin #stiles #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dave hodgman #sam taylor #love and monsters #dylan o brien

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wifeofkimtaehyungofbts · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6

Pairing: Jimin x Y/N

Synopsis: How do you help someone with their emotions if you don’t feel emotions? When your brother’s best friend dies in a tragic car accident and he spirals downwards in depression, you devote yourself to helping him out of his misery. But when his other best friend becomes suicidal following the loss, it isn’t merely about helping them. It’s about saving them.

Word count: 1400+

Previous / Next

*****

Hard.

The only word that can explain my situation.

Sleeping is hard.

Pretending to be okay is hard.

Breathing is hard.

Staying alive is very hard.

Every passing morning I wake up, I wish I didn’t. Waking up to an eerily quiet apartment, walking down the over crowded streets feeling alone and pulling through the day with all the energy I have is mentally and physically exhausting.

My therapist was kind, too kind for my liking. A young, dynamic woman interested in helping those who came to her. She suggested a lot of changes to my lifestyle that would help me move on.

I appreciate her efforts, but she did not see the bigger problem. It wasn’t that I was unable to move on, I refused to move on.

I was afraid of getting comfortable in a world without him.

The idea of waking up one morning, brewing myself bitter coffee that he hated, hustling through work and going for a walk in the park on a Tuesday evening with a smile on my face pretending like I’m alive and kicking made me sick. The day he died, I did too. The only difference between my dead best friend and I is that his body died too, whereas mine survived.

It survived when I tried to cut myself open, the pain on my skin barely felt against the pain in my head.

Watching the thick blood gushing out through the wounds I’ve inflicted on myself using the shiny kitchen knife was less horrifying than watching his wooden casket lowered to the ground.

My body survived the multiple drug intake that would’ve killed anyone else. Feeling my face hit the cold bathroom floor before the lights in my head went out as I blacked out was less scary than going to bed that night knowing every tomorrow then onwards would be a day away from our last day together.

I don’t know how long I was unconscious on the floor as the drugs attempted to slowly took my life before Jungkook found me in my apartment. I don’t even know how the guy let himself in. He probably used the spare key Taehyung let him borrow.

Taehyung.

The name pierces my chest. My mouth feels dry, my cheeks sunken in. If pain was a taste, it would be all-too-familiar for my hallucinating tongue.

I hate him for leaving us. But I hate myself for putting him in a situation where we lost him. I hate myself for being the first one to wake up in the toppled car that day. I hate myself for looking over at him and helplessly watching him draw his last breath. I hate myself for crying while my best friends were bleeding to death in the burning car.

By a miracle Jungkook and I survived. Neither of us sustained any injuries to the head, fortunately. Jungkook fractured his left arm and broke a few ribs. I broke a few ribs and fractured my right leg. With the help of a cast and rest, we both recovered in 3 weeks.

The doctors kept telling us we were lucky ones, to heal from such wounds in such a short period of time. They told us we were lucky enough to have survived such a crash.

The car had collided with an oncoming truck carrying wood and rolled 18 meters before coming to a stop.

It had been crushed from the side he was seated on. Paramedics said the car door had to be removed from his body. His insides were like water, his guts shapeless.

The blunt force of metal crashing against him had cracked his skull, causing internal bleeding. Doctors said he died a very painful death and I asked them why.

Why did Taehyung suffer that way? Why did Taehyung go through so much of pain?

The guy who plays with children on the street, the guy who helps the blind man cross the street to the bakery around the block every weekend, the guy who rescues stray cats and dogs and takes them to the vet, spending on their treatment with his own pocket money before taking them to adoption centres. The guy with the golden heart.

Why him?

The world is full of shitty people; murderers, rapists, abusers. They roam the face of the planet with blood on their hands and sin in her souls and Taehyung was taken away painfully?

I open my eyes to wake up from the thinking, to end the painful conversation I always have with myself.

Opening my eyes slowly, I take in the silent room. A slit of sunlight tears through the dark, not enough to illuminate the room.

It was very kind of Jungkook to take me in and as much as I love the guy, I wouldn’t say I am entirely comfortable sharing his space.

I want to be alone, to remember and regret.

The whole accident... I didn’t have enough time to process it with the funeral happening too soon and my mind poisoning me with guilt.

I keep telling myself there was absolutely nothing I could’ve done to save him, he died before help arrived. Had he survived by any miracle, he would live a miserable life; a half dead vegetable rotting away on bed till his body gets too old to live. We all know Taehyung would’ve hated that.

But thinking of all the things we could’ve done differently, like other ways we could’ve spent that day instead of drunk driving, sends a cold jab through my windpipe, not allowing me to breathe setting my lungs on fire.

I get out of bed, pushing away the dark sheets that cannot engulf me in enough warmth. I trace my fingers along the wall looking for the light switch.

Finding it I switch it on.

Blinding white light fills the room, my eyes squinting against the amount of sudden light.

It all happens too quick.

The light.

The dull silence of the room.

It all takes me back to the hospital room.

Bright white light. Too bright for me to fully open my eyes and take in the people silently rushing around me.

The only sound the beeping of my heart monitor.

My ears pick up inaudible voices. Someone with a deep voice. Someone with a raspy voice. A female voice.

“He was dead when they got there”

“..... they had to remove parts of the car from him. The entire door was jammed into his side”

A few gasps echo in the room.

“...... internal bleeding [inaudible] painful last moments”

More murmuring.

“He’s stable I just checked”

He, who?

Dead?

Stable?

Breathing was hard. I need air.

The beeping got louder, scarier.

Words were thrown across the room.

“Patient is crashing!”

“Get the doctor!”

“Oh my God his vitals are dropping”

Taehyung.

Jungkook.

Where are they?

I was screaming but no one seemed to hear.

The insides of my head were throbbing, my lungs begging for air and fear wetting my eyes.

I need them.

My friends.

Someone please tell them I’m calling for them.

I’m scared.

I feel heavy and light at the same time. I can taste bile in my mouth. I have a nasty gut feeling.

Why are people panicking around me?

I should be the one panicking! I’m all alone chained onto a bed that’s not mine with tubes inserted through multiple cuts in my body and I don’t see any of my friends next to me!

“Charge at 200 volts!”

“Push the tray this way!”

“Ask Henry to immediately get his ass in here!”

Static. The sound of a walkie talkie being turned on.

“Henry you are required in the theatre. It’s an emergency!”

Shut up shut up shut up somebody please make them shut up!

The voices make my ears bleed. My brain hurts trying to process what they are shouting to each other.

Taehyung! I scream.

Where’s my voice?

Why did no sound come out?

The light is too bright. I can’t open my eyes.

Jungkook! Taehyung!

Where are you?!

“Jimin hyung!”

Jungkook?

“Jimin hyung look at me!”

Why are you shouting Jungkook?

I feel someone roughly grabbing my arms. Pulling me down. Sitting me down on the wooden floor. My bottom shivers when it comes in contact with the cold floor.

“Hyung! Look at me”

Why do you sound so desperate Jungkook?

Where are the doctors and nurses who were here just a minute ago?

“Hyung, hyung! Just look at me”

Jungkook’s weak cries turn my face towards him. I blink as I take in his broken expression.

Why does Jungkook look so sad?

I look around the room.

I don’t see the hospital bed. Where is my heart monitor?

A girl with a horrified expression pasted on her pretty face looms over me.

I look at my friend confusingly.

“Jungkook, where’s Taehyung?”

I watched as a light go out in Jungkook’s eyes.

Where is Taehyung?

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