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anaxibiaclark · 1 year

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Steddie Modern AU where they are Child Therapists and they own a practice together in Boston.

They have separate offices within the practice, more for HIPPA purposes then anything. Rooms for therapy vary because it all depends on who they're seeing and what therapeutic approach they want to take.

They both work with children of all ages, however they have their preferences. Steve mostly works with adolescents and Eddie "hangs" with the teens.

Steve and Eddie are quite the dynamic, very much the odd duo. Their appearance is quite a stark contrast too. Steve has stuck with his usual look; a pair of black Chinos with either a Polo or Henley (of any color) tucked into the waist and black Oxfords. (And yes, he still has the hair.) Eddie, however, wears black jeans (no holes, because he's a professional, damn it) with a black t-shirt tucked into the waist and a hooded cardigan usually in blood red or black, along with a pair of shiny black Doc Martins. He usually keeps his hair in a makeshift braid or a ponytail.

Don't get me wrong, they are very professional therapists, but they handle therapy differently. When interacting with adolescent children, Steve uses play therapy to get kids to talk about what's on their minds. While Eddie gravitates towards music and art therapy. He feels this allows the kids to be creative and express themselves in a way that words alone may not offer.

Teenagers on the other hand are more difficult. Steve takes more of the "coach" approach. He's very supportive and encourages them to open up about things that are going on at school or home. The more rough and tumble teenagers always end up seeing Eddie. Half the time he spends the 45 minute session in silence, because it's rare that they feel like talking when they first come to him. He just offers the kids a chance to ruminate in a safe space. It usually takes about a week or two for them to open up to Eddie, then all bets are off. It becomes a never ending stream of word vomit for these kids.

When gay marriage became legal in Massachusetts, they had a small ceremony with close friends and family. Word got out and they did see a decline in patients. However, an influx of parents brought their kids to the practice. A lot of the kids were struggling with their identity and the parents wanted to bring their children to a safe space where they wouldn't be judged.

As years went on, their practice became highly recommended by Pediatricians all over Massachusetts. It was a little overwhelming at times, they had to expand their practice, hiring a few people to keep their schedule in line and prevent their practice from imploding on itself.

In 2016, Eddie furthered his education and started working towards bringing group therapy into the practice, especially when he found out that Dungeons and Dragons could now be used as a therapeutic tool. And it became a big hit amongst the kids.

So there you have it. My silly little Steddie Modern AU.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #therapist au #and i do believe eddie would be a big advocate for dungeons and dragons in therapy #steddie headcanon #i think it will be a long time before i get over these boys #they would be awesome therapists for children

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fitrahgolden · 11 months

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Story Prompt: There's a world you need to know 🎨 🎹 🎶

Kate, inspired by her birth mother's art legacy, is a music and art therapist as well as a semi-famous mural artist. She's hired by Violet to help Gregory and Hyacinth deal with the loss of the father they never knew, which Kate feels particularly well equipped to do given her own family history.

---

"Mother, who is that in there with Greg and Hy?"

"Oh! That's Kate. She's the children's new music and art therapist."

"...music and art therapist..."

"Don't start. I had a meeting with their teachers--"

"When was this? Why wasn't I there?"

Violet blinks at him. "I'm capable of tending to my children's education without you, Anthony. I am their mother, after all."

Anthony pinches the bridge of his nose. Not the time, he reminds himself. Not the time.

"I apologize. That's not what I meant to imply. What did their teachers say?"

"The children have been... talking a lot. About their father. And Hyacinth in particular has been withdrawn lately. Both of them have been receiving lower marks--"

"Then we'll replace their tutors."

"That's not the problem, Anthony. We're actually quite lucky that Ms. Sharma was available. She comes highly recommended. She works with several students at Hyacinth and Gregory's school and all over Kent."

Kate Sharma, was it? Right.

---

Anthony didn't think he looked particularly imposing as he leaned against the wall, waiting for the kids' "therapy session" to be over, but apparently he did as Kate Sharma started at his presence when she saw him, dropping her bag. They both dove to get it.

"Allow me," Anthony said. It sounded more like an order than an offer.

"No, thanks. I have it," Kate mumbled.

As they stood, Anthony finally got a good look at her face.

"Yes?"

"Pardon?

"You're staring at me."

"Oh, um, sorry." He extended his hand.

"Anthony, Viscount Bridgerton."

Kate scoffed but took his hand, shaking briefly but confidently.

"Kate Sharma."

She turned to leave, and Anthony felt the inexplicable urge to keep talking to her.

"How, um... did the session, uh, go?"

"You don't have to do this."

"What?"

"I know you think what I do is bullshit."

"No, I don't. I just--"

"It's fine, I'm used to it. Thankfully, it doesn't stop me from being really fucking good at my job. Anyway, your mother warned me about you."

"She--? Right. Um... Sorry, but can I just ask what training you need for this... job?" If any, he thought in his head.

Kate rolled her eyes, pulling out a folder and unceremoniously pushing it at him.

"I have degrees in Music, Music Therapy, and Art Psychotherapy. I'm registered with Health and Care Professions Council and a member of the British Associations of Art Therapy and Music Therapy."

Anthony flipped through the contents of the folder, everything corroborating what she'd just said. "How old are you?"

"Excuse me?"

He sheepishly handed the folder back. "I'm sorry. You're just very... accomplished. You always carry your credentials with you?"

"When I'm working, yes. Like I said, I'm used to people like you."

"Like me?"

"I really need to go. I have other clients to dupe into giving me money for playing with their children."

"That's not at all--"

She tossed over her shoulder, "Violet seems happy with my work, so I'm afraid you'll be seeing me again, Viscount."

Anthony was sort of dazed. What the fuck just happened?

"Holy shit, was that THE Kate Sharma?" Eloise all but shouted.

"The?"

"Of course you haven't heard of her, you uncultured swine. What in the world was she doing here?"

"She's... a child therapist. A... famous one, I guess?" Anthony squinted at his sister.

"Ugh, you're hopeless. She's also the best mural artist this side of London. You've never read My Mother's Daughter?"

Anthony looked back down the hallway where Kate Sharma disappeared. Huh.

#anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #kanthony #kanthonyedit #kate and anthony #kate bridgerton #kate x anthony #bridgerton #bridgerton au #lord bridgerton #story prompt #anthony bridgerton #anthony and kate #therapist au

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theprofessionalpromptmaker · 10 months

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National PTSD Awareness Day & Sunglasses Day

Person A had PTSD in regards to eye contact due to having lived with a partner with mind control based on eye contact and would often make Person A do things for them. Person B is someone with a similar power but uses it only for mild hypnosis for their work as a therapist and Person A is their new client.

#mod poss #creative writing #writing prompt #writing #prompt #fanfic prompt #fanfiction prompt #story prompt #creative writing prompt #ficinsp #alternate universe #plots and prompts #obscure holiday prompt #supernatural au #fantasy au #mind control au #therapist au #therapy au #hypnosis au

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effulgent-girl · 2 years

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JB Week 2022 - The Elements - Earth (stability, patience, warmth, comfort)

Sculptor AU

Lion Conservation AU

Librarian AU

Therapist AU

Summer Love AU

#jaime x brienne #jb week #elements #sculptor au #lion conservation au #librarian au #therapist au #summer love au #earth #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #graphic #effulgentgirl #gotedit #story ideas

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killingsaray · 1 year

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in the low lamp light (i was free), a therapist/patient Andromaquynh AU

Author: killingsaray

Words: 1951

Chapters: 1/20

Summary:

“Why are you here?” Andy drops a few bills on the bar and hauls Quynh out of her chair. “You think I’d leave a patient here in this condition?” Quynh pulls out of Andy’s grasp roughly, stumbling to the right. “You’re the reason I’m here! I’m not your patient anymore, and you still can’t admit that you care about me!”

The “you came”/“you called” therapist/patient AU where Quynh has to hurt to heal and Andy is trying to show her how.

Rating: M/E for future scenes

Tags/TWs: Forbidden Love; transference; the therapist/patient AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway; dr. andromache will see you now; Trauma; Hurt/Comfort; Healing; utter fucking FILTH (eventually); forbidden slow burn; like almost a few millennia of slow burn; mentions of past abuse (canon compliant with Andy and Quynh’s torture); Hard to explain, but I promise it’ll be done beautifully/respectfully; Angst with a Happy Ending

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princeskeltondraws · 1 year

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MacAdams in a kilt

In my RP with my Fiance we have this idea that MacAdams is actually Alchemist prime. But he has a secret second identity as a therapist named Kilter. Which is just MacAdams in a kilt. I found out kilts are hecking hard to draw though so this in my progress.

#MacAdams #the character #MacAdam #kilter #kind of an OC #therapist Au #maybe an AU #Skelton Draws

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bxnnie-bxwl · 4 months

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evil rabbits

#another therapist goes missing ((:#vanny sent evil!bonnie after em like a hunting dog #art #fnaf #fnaf security breach #glamrock bonnie #evil!bonnie #fnaf au #fnaf vanny #fnaf gregory #fnaf ggy

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starry-bi-sky · 2 months

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I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc prompt #this is just me torturing danny for a little bit because im stressed and i cried for an hour while i was driving so im taking it out on B #thanks for being my little stress ball danny #aha my old middle school habit of frankensteining two characters together is resurfacing again :) yall should've seen my wattpad drafts #in middle school. i had 50 of them and most of them were me combining two characters together to make one person and putting them in one au #my most memorable being skydoesminecraft and harry potter. THAT was a fun worldbuilding experience #do i think that growing up with the fentons would fix bruce/danny completely?? hurm. no. dont kid yallselves jazz is not a licensed #therapist not even at like. nine when she meets danny. she's not helping him through his trauma in the slightest. she's nagging.#she's his sister or sister-like figure before she's his therapist. would he be #*entirely* like canon bruce tho?? no. dannybruce is a mix of the both of them. but this is still the first post of the au and is more so #just me doing the equivalent of popping a stress ball so nothing is smoothed over. mostly im just trying to keep bruce's trauma prominent i #danny's character because he IS Bruce. i dont want him to just be 'danny with bruce's backstory but without any of the ugly bits'.#danny and bruce is used interchangeably because they're the same person but sorry if his personality feels imbalanced i came up with this o #the spot. was going to type more but the stress has left me. for now. watch ur back danny 👀

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welcometosasakiworld · 10 months

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DPXDC prompt #22

Jazz at first wanted to be a Family Therapist because of how her parents were absent minded through hers and Danny's childhood, but that changed when she saw first hand the unseen side of hero work.

The side where they are plagued with trauma and insecurity and fear... She couldn't stand to look at Danny and not do something.

So... she decided to open a Therapy Clinic to the Hero Community.

She is very popular with the younger heros, so when someone, a reporter, ask her why she did what she does, Jazz just answers honestly.

"At first I wanted to be a Family Therapist, but when I found out my little brother was a superhero and saw first hand the emotional damage heroism did to him... I couldn't stand there and do nothing, now because he was pushed with no choice into hero work Danny is King to a whole dimension of the undead, and unable to chase his dreams... I don'twant others to end up like him."

#dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #therapist!Jazz #dp au #dc x dp #dpxdc #sasaki prompts

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llamagoddessofficial · 5 months

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I'm on my knees for any more crumbs with prison AU therapist Mc and Sans 🙏 the more equal(?) dynamic is just so good And to the anon that brought it up—I love you

I'll do you one better. Here's some crumbs for ALL of them

Since she's not a nurse, this Mc doesn't have a very strong stomach. Stories of Skull's crimes sometimes make her physically ill.

Generally, Sans and Mc's 'sessions' can be quite pleasant. They talk about current events, how things are going. It's only once she starts trying to explore his feelings that he starts toying with her.

... Red teases her a lot. She tries not to react to it, it's unprofessional, but he can always tell when he's flustering her. He gets this infuriating smug grin.

Since Red is a high risk prisoner, he has to have one hand cuffed to a table during therapy. He often complains that he wishes he could be cuffed alone in a room with her in different circumstances. What Mc doesn't realise is that, considering his strength, the cuffs are basically for decoration- Red just pretends he can't break out of them so she feels more comfortable alone in a room with a massive skeleton monster who openly displays interest in her.

Sans doesn't require cuffs in his sessions. And the only time he was cuffed, he snapped them 'accidentally' to make a point. It just makes it all the more nervewracking for Mc.

Skull doesn't know she's his therapist. He thinks she just really cares about him. That's why she keeps coming back to see him, right?

Red isn't the only flirt. Sans is a lot more forward in this AU, considering she knows the truth about his nature. Granted, Sans being 'clear' about something is still incredibly cryptic, but he enjoys the shock in her eyes whenever he calmly flirts with her.

Red's flirting is warm, sincere, and never crosses the line... it leaves her flushed and (though she'd never admit it) flattered. Sans' flirting is nervewracking. It makes her feel like she's a mouse, and Sans is a cat playfully batting at her, capable of clawing her to death at any moment.

Skull gains bits and pieces of speech back a lot faster with her. Unfortunately, that means he's learning how to terrify the guards. It used to be that Skull would just scream or snarl, but now he likes to say broken ominous sentences to guards he doesn't like to see them shit their pants.

He's also figured out that, when he's really upset and angry, if he screams her name enough someone will send her. It's not a great lesson to learn... but it's better than him deciding to attack people.

Whenever Mc tries to get Skull to do therapeutic art with her, he just draws the same thing over and over. The art is scribbly thanks to his tremor, but it always looks like three people; a tall skeleton, a shorter skeleton, and a human. He draws them in various positions- standing together, sitting around a table, sitting on a couch. She suspects one skeleton is him and the human could be her, but she doesn't know who the tall skeleton is.

(It's him, her, and Papyrus. His family)

Sans, for all his power and control, gets ratty and jealous when she treats other people. The first time he hears her laugh is when she realises that was why he's being moody.

She'd never seen him so delighted before.

Sans likes when she dodges his conversational traps. He'll try to lure her into talking about herself, revealing information to him, but she won't fall for it and always turns it back on him. There's not much he's been able to glean from her. It's always so fun, to play with someone who knows what they're doing.

Again, she'll never admit it. But Mc is fascinated by Sans. Most serial killers are delusional and kinda pathetic, but Sans is as if all the stereotypes of the 'genius mastermind serial killer' were true. She gets to be up close and personal, see how he works; she gets to watch his mask rise and fall in real time.

Of course, he knows she's fascinated. He uses it to keep her coming back. He's fascinated with her, too~

#llamagines #prison au #prison therapist au #guard: ...#skull: .....#guard: ......#skull: ... you'll... bleed.....#guard: That's IT. I FUCKING QUIT

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ghouljams · 8 months

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Alright!! Here's the end of the first act of the Medieval AU, in which I hit poor reader with a stick multiple times and Knight!Ghost makes it better.

TW: this handles some stuff around sexual assault/sexual trauma, virginity politics, and period typical misogyny

You’ve always thought of sex as something that will be forced on you. Dreading your marriage night has become the norm for you. Even before Ghost came into your life. Though after his entrance it came to mean so much more than just an unpleasant night. It’s losing Ghost, losing the spare hope that somehow you could be his. Because you think if it was with him it might be nice. The way he touches you, the way he takes care of you, he’s kind, terribly so. He’s good to you, he’d be good to you.

Ghost presses his lips against yours, gentle pressure you instantly crave more of. He turns your head to kiss your cheek, your jaw, to press his nose against your pulse and breathe you in. His fingers in your hair direct you as he likes, and you’re more than willing to let him. Your eyes are heavy, everything wonderfully soft and ever so slightly out of focus. You run your hands over his bare shoulders, feel the firm muscle, trail them up to feel his jaw as he kisses your neck.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispers to you, his voice low in your ear. Your stomach clenches, your skin prickling with heat. Ghost’s hands are so gentle with you, exploratory as they run down your sides and up your stomach. His lips follow them over your chest, making you squirm and press into his touch.

“My lady,” He presses his words into your skin. His, you think, just his for as long as he’ll have you. No one matters like him, no one holds you like him, keeps you like him. You want him to keep you. You want to be his, greedily, you want him to be yours too. It’s not a quality you’re supposed to have. You aren’t supposed to want like this.

You aren’t supposed to dig your fingers into his shoulders, not supposed to let your legs fall open when he nudges his knee between them. “Just like that Princess,” He tells you, his voice raspy in a way that makes heat bloom over your cheeks, “spread your legs so everyone can see what a selfish little whore you are.”

Your head is jerked to look at the crowd of shadows gathered around you, their eyes so wide and watchful you don’t know how you didn’t feel them raking over your exposed skin before. You feel panic well in your chest, grabbing the sheets quickly to try and cover yourself. You scramble away from Ghost and he lets you, hardly bothered by your rapid breaths or the tears quickly gathering in your eyes.

“They already think you’re ruined,” He doesn’t sound like Ghost, voice cruel and taunting, “All because you value a knight over the only thing you’re good for.” His eyes aren’t Ghost’s, the shifting and changing shape and color, his face flickering through your previous suitors. “He won’t want you anyway once you’re sold, he doesn’t even want you now,” His hand grabs your cheeks between rough fingers and you push at his face- their many faces- you don’t like this, you don’t like this, you don’t- “Are you really so stupid as to think he’d protect you from your husband. This is your duty princess, and his is not to interfere.” Their hands push between your legs.

Your sobs shake you awake, heaving, trembling things. You scorn propriety and wail. Let the whole castle hear you, you don’t care. You’re a horrible princess, a terrible, selfish, greedy thing that hardly deserves the title. You know all of this, and yet you still sob because you want Ghost. You want your knight, you want the man that’s slowly leading you to ruin. The man that’s planted an altar of thorns around your heart and laid his kindness upon it like a lamb to slaughter. You want him to hold you and tell you it was all lies. That he wants you like you want him.

You sob, feel the fat tears roll down your cheeks and fall on your blankets. You sob, feel it scratch your throat raw, your chest barely expanding enough to compensate for the despair that rattles out of you. One of your nightly guards comes into the room to check on you and you scream at him. Force the sound out of you like a banshee until it rips your vocal cords. You hope it shreds them.

What a picture you’d make then.

What a picture you must make now.

The guard leaves in a hurry, apparently having deemed you safe from external threats, but mad enough not to stick around. It feels good to scream. You do it again, and again, curling in on yourself as you clutch your pain to your chest. The world can fall away like this, leave you to your self infliction. Who cares. It’s all bullshit anyway.

"How long has she been like this?" The voice is furious, unfamiliar. You’ve never heard anyone that mad in your life. You can barely hear the reply over your hiccuping sobs. You don’t want people in your room, you don’t want them to see you like this. Not when you feel like a child throwing a tantrum. Some part of you is still clinging to decorum even now. How well trained you are.

“Get out!” You shout, reach behind you to grab a pillow to throw blindly at the intruder.

Big warm hands grab you and pull you from your misery, wild brown eyes dart over you searching for injury. Ghost pushes your hair from your face, and you scream at him the same as you screamed at your night guard.

He’s not wearing his mask, in the back of your mind you wonder if he came here like that. He pulls you against his chest, presses your face to his shoulder to stifle your screaming. His frame curls over you, shielding you from the world you were trying to drown out. You can feel the rapid expanding and contracting of his chest, his breath quick, as he drops his head to your shoulder. You wonder if he ran here.

“I’m sorry I was late,” He tells you, and you fall apart again.

The way you shake and curl up in his arms, guarding yourself against whatever hurts you, breaks his heart. His poor love. Ghost wraps his arm more tightly around your shoulders, holds the back of your head as he turns to kiss your temple. “You’re alright,” He whispers, “I have you, you’re safe.” Your sobs feel like a full body effort. Each one wracks your chest and forces the air from your lungs. He can feel your tears soaking through his shirt. God, you- you’re safe. You’re safe.

He repeats it to himself, presses his lips to your cheek, your shoulder, keeps you held as tightly as he dares. He’d seen the maids running from your room for the court physician, and assumed the worst. Assumed you’d been screaming due to some grave injury, that he’d find you bloody, and- But these were just tears, anyone should have been able to help you through your tears. How long had you been screaming alone? How long had you been left to deal with your pain while others whispered about sedation?

Ghost feels his anger bubbling again, feels the hot licks of fury against his ribs as your sobs settle into gentle hiccups. You don’t need his anger right now, but it will come. Later. Now he does his best to keep his voice from shaking, to keep it gentle for you.

“Tell me what happened.” So that he can take his revenge on whatever hurt you.

Your breath shudders. “You let them touch me,” you sob, your hands desperate where they hold onto his shirt. Ghost’s heart stops, he feels his grip on you tighten more than wills it.

“Never,” He growls, forcing himself to look at the remaining staff in your room, “No one is coming near you.” It’s a threat, he means it as a threat. He’s never felt more dangerous than he does in this moment. Never felt more sure of his own deadly precision. At least your court lady is smart enough to usher the rest of the nervous onlookers out of the room. “Who touched you?” He watches the door shut tight, tries to keep the anger out of his voice. Who the fuck would be stupid enough to touch what was his?

“I-” You hesitate as Ghost slides his thumb against your tear stained cheek, “I want to be selfish.” Your poor hoarse voice, he’s almost willing to let you change the subject when you sound like that. Screamed yourself raw, and they all let you.

“Who touched you princess?” He asks again.

“No one,” Your voice raises and breaks without your willing it to.

“No one,” Ghost repeats, feeling his shoulders drop with relief.

“What would you do if they did?” You ask him, and he knows exactly what he’d do, “Nothing.” Ghost stills. “You’ll throw me to my wedding night the same as the rest. Give me up as is your duty and ask me to forget every time you’ve touched me. How can you ask me to forget that, when every time I touch you I ache for the next time you’ll let me close? How can you hold me like this before you throw me to the wolves?”

Blood rushes in Ghost’s ears, his breaths short as he listens to you swallow your heart. No. He’s not so noble as to give you up like that. He imagines it, how chivalrous he’ll be letting you go. But he knows. He’s not a noble man, not kind, not half as honorable as he pretends to be. He can’t leave you in anyone else’s hands. No one else can have you, no one deserves you. Not when they’ll let you scream yourself hoarse. Not when their first thought is to sedate you in your grief. No. He knows.

He’d kill your husband before he ever reached your wedding bed.

He tips your head back and kisses you. You all but melt against him, your soft lips wet with your tears, sweet and salty. And warm. You’re so warm. How could he ever delude himself into thinking he could give you up? You’re right. You slide your lips against his with a sigh, and all he can do is ache for the next gentle kiss you give him.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #knight!ghost #princess!reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #medieval au #when you only hear about how awful sex is and how it's your duty to give it up #you tend to develop some complicated feelings about it #I was explaining this whole chapter to my therapist and she was like #woah and people like when you write this?#no but it's cathartic for me so I'm writing it anyway

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