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noforkingclue · 3 years

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I Just Want To Sleep (Bucky x reader)

Summary: If you had a chance to get rid of your nightmares forever would you take it? Even if that solution was to share a bed with someone you just about tolerated?

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mutual pining, angst

MCU tag list: @geocookie21

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

Everyone had nightmares, they were just another part of the job. It was known that most people got them, whether they lasted a couple of days after a mission or a lifetime. It was a fact that everyone knew about but just didn’t talk about it. That sort of thing wasn’t done.

Nightmares always varied from person to person but always involved what people were working on. The lives they failed to save whether from friends, colleagues or innocent bystanders. You were used to hearing people waking up screaming or sobbing, people going to therapy but never talking to anyone else about it. But those weren’t the worst types to have. The worst was when people remembered the lives of the innocents they had taken themselves. The sounds of breaking bones and skulls shattering, children crying over the bodies of their parents begging them to wake up although you knew they never would.

The nightmares that made you question whether or not you were the heroes or the villains. The ones that made you question your own morals.

You had forgotten the last time you had gotten a decent nights last as you laid awake looking up at the ceiling. Eventually you sighed and got out of bed knowing that you’d never get back to sleep. You walked into the small kitchen of the safe house and poured yourself a glass of water.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

You jumped at the sound of Bucky’s voice breaking the silence of the night. You turned around and saw him lounging on the sofa, the blanket half hanging off of him. You made a point of only looking directly at his face, determined not to let your eyes wander over his bare chest.

“Same to you.” You said

“Everything alright?”

“Yes. Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Heard you scream.”

You hesitated for a moment before saying quietly,

“Just nightmares, nothing new. You?”

“Same.”

There was a beat of silence. You looked around, uncomfortable with where this conversation was going. You never spoke to anyone about your nightmares, even trying to avoid the topic with your therapist. Sam kept telling you it was unhealthy and while you knew he was right you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Bucky

“Do you want to talk about yours?”

Bucky’s silence told you anything. You gave him a pointed look as you took you water and left the room. Just because you and Bucky were working together didn’t mean that you had to open up completely to him. Not at all.

It was late (or early depending on who you asked) by the time you and Bucky collapsed back into the safe house. The mission took longer than both of you were expecting and all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

“My turn to take the sofa.” You said

Bucky had been insistent that you took the bed when you two work together. He was strangely adamant that you shouldn’t share and you guessed that it was some hangover from the nineteen forties. You had argued that it was unfair that he was forced on the sofa each night and forced him to alternate who took the bed.

“You should take the bed again,” said Bucky, “You need it more than I do.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you said, “You might be a super soldier but I saw how hard you got hit. Take the bed.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You and Bucky glared at each other and while you were tired you weren’t about to give in. When Bucky smirked you knew he had a plan and when he laid down on the sofa he said,

“And where will you sleep now?”

“Move.”

“No.”

“Move please.”

“Make me.”

“If you don’t move right now I’ll sleep on top of you.”

“I don’t think you will.”

You smirked back at him before walked over and put your full bodyweight on him. Bucky groaned as you rested your head on his chest. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around you to prevent you falling off and you had to resist the urge to blush as he did so.

“You’re really stubborn you know that?” he said

“It’s one of my most endearing features.”

“You’re not moving are you?”

“Fine.” He grumbled

“Night Bucky.”

“Night y/n.”

You opened your eyes and groaned as the bright light assaulted them. Strong arms tightened around your waist and for a brief moment you had forgotten about what happened last night. You sat up with a jolt which caused Bucky’s grip on you to slip and for you to fall to the floor. Bucky sat bolt upright before looking down at you in amusement.

“Nice night Princess?” he asked

“What time is it?” you asked

Bucky shrugged and you glared up and you hunted for your watch. When you found it you blinked, not quite believing the time.

“Well?” Bucky asked as he lay back down

“What time did we get in last night?”

Bucky shrugged

“About three.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“Then you’re watch is wrong.”

“No it’s not. Fuck,” you ran your fingers through your hair, “I can’t remember the last time I slept for seven hours straight.”

“That isn’t healthy.”

“Oh and you’re the person who can comment on healthy sleeping patterns.”

“Never said I was doll.”

You looked over your shoulder and glared at Bucky when he used the nickname.

“Must’ve just been because we were tired,” you muttered, “That’s it!”

“Hmm.”

Bucky didn’t sound convinced and you rolled your eyes.

“You got a better idea?” you asked

Bucky sat up and swung his legs over the side of the sofa. You rested your back against the side of the sofa and looked up at him.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “It has something to do with last night.”

“Last night?”

“When you fell asleep in my arms.”

“Only because you were being stubborn!”

“Right.”

You groaned and ran a hand over your face. You looked up at Bucky and you could see the hopeful uncertainty in his eyes. A way of helping your nightmares without having to openly discuss them with anyone else.

What did you have to lose?

“You’re taking up the whole bed!”

“No I’m not.”

“Well your leg is on my side.”

“This is a single bed. There are no sides!”

You and Bucky were back to back trying to cram into a too small bed. When it was just one of you the bed was the perfect size but it definitely wasn’t made for two people. You tried to pull some of the blanket over you but Bucky kept a firm grip on it.

“Give me some of that!”

“You have plenty.”

“Ugh,” you sat up and glared at him, “This was a stupid idea. Why did I even agree to it? Move, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“No, you’re not going anywhere Princess.”

“Excuse me?”

“Err,” Bucky just realised what he had said, “That came out creepier than I intended.”

“You don’t say.”

“But please, just one more night.”

You wanted to say no, you really did, but one look at his pleading gaze had you melting. You sighed and nodded. He gave you a dazzling grin as you laid back down.

“But you need to move over.” You muttered

“Don’t blame me,” came the answer, “I’m not the person you decided it was a good idea to only supply single beds.”

You shifted again and your leg brushed Bucky’s. For a brief second he pressed back against yours and you closed your eyes enjoying the sensation. You had forgotten how nice it was to sleep next to someone again even if the both of you might end up waking each other up with your nightmares. Eventually you heard Bucky sigh.

“It isn’t working like this.”

“I told you- hey!”

To your surprise Bucky didn’t get out of bed. Instead he pulled you into his arms. You were practically lying on top of him, your head resting against his chest. It was different from last time then you were half asleep but now you had never been more awake. Bucky moved so your leg slipped in between his and he rested his chin on top of your head. If anyone broke in now they’d probably mistake the two of you as a couple. You had never been more grateful that Sam had been out of the country.

“Better?” asked Bucky

“Yes.”

“You sure? You sound a bit-“

“I’m just tired.”

“Right. Night.”

“Night.”

And just like the night before you had the best night’s sleep in years, safely wrapped in the arms of a highly trained killer.

“What’s going on between you and Bucky? I left the two of you for a month and now you’re practically on top of each other.”

You couldn’t contain your blush as Sam looked at you over the rim of his coffee cup. He raised an eyebrow at your reaction and you said quickly,

“It isn’t what you think.”

“And what’ll that be.”

“We’re not sleeping with each other.”

“Right.”

“I mean, technically we are sleeping with each other.”

Sam, who had just taken a sip of his coffee, choked on it. He looked at you incredulously as you clarified,

“We’re not fucking. We’re literally just sharing a bed. I have absolutely no desire to have sex with Bucky Banes.”

“You’re probably one of the few people on this planet who wouldn’t.”

“Would you?”

Sam shrugged and you just rolled your eyes.

“But why? I thought you hated him.”

“I don’t hate him,” you said, “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“He helps… he helps with the nightmares.”

“You’re still having them.”

“Doesn’t everyone.”

“Y/n,” Sam said gently, “You need help.”

“I have a therapist.”

“Sharing a bed with Bucky isn’t going to fix things for the long run.”

“Might do.”

Sam gave you a disapproving look which you pointedly avoided. You knew deep down that he was right but you just couldn’t face talking about what had happened with anyone. You were too afraid, too paranoid, that your secrets would be leaked. That the trust you spent years rebuilding would be broken again in a heartbeat. You just weren’t ready to lose everyone again and if the solution to your problems meant Bucky then you gladly take it.

It was strange sharing a bed with someone after all these years. Bucky usually woke up early, usually after horrific nightmares about becoming the Winter Solider again and losing control. He would spend hours lying in bed, waiting for the sun to rise and the day to start again but now things were different.

Now he had you.

How calm and peaceful you looked when you slept, how your soft breaths made him feel at peace. The way your chest rose and fell and pressed against his. Bucky had been interested in your for a while, how most people avoided you and you only seemed to speak to Sam. How you avoided him when Sam first introduced the two of you until you were forced to work together. He wouldn’t lie, he was slightly jealous of how close you were to Sam even though he knew you relationship was strictly platonic.

Just like yours and his.

That’s the two of you were, colleagues, maybe even friends, cuddle buddies as you teasingly referred to it once. That’s something Bucky noticed, how you were slowly opening up to him. Slowly you once awkward conversations turned into slight teasing and, at least on his part, slightly flirting. Just the odd comment here and there just to see you blush and stumble over your words. Bucky thought it was cute how flustered you got over simple compliments and how you shyly returned them. He enjoyed the warm feeling he got whenever you flirted back even though neither of you were serious about it.

That was it, neither of you were serious about it. Bucky enjoyed your friendship at least that was what he was hoping this is. He liked the idea of you showing him your favourite films or books, showing him your favourite places around your home city. Him teaching you about his original time period, teaching you how to dance as he pulled you close while the two of you were awake. He closed his eyes and smiled as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

The two of you just being friends.

“Hey, a new restaurant just opened want to try it?”

“Can’t tonight Sam. I promise Buck that we’d watch Blade Runner tonight.”

“Blade Runner?”

“Yeah, never thought that he’d be a fan of Ridley Scott’s films.”

You held your mobile between your cheek and your shoulder as you put a bottle of wine in the fridge. Saturday’s were film nights between you and Bucky and you always looked forward to them. The nights when it was just the two of you curled up on your sofa. Bucky’s arm over your shoulder, a bowl of popcorn between you and an empty pizza box on the table. It was quickly becoming your favourite night of the week. You could practically hear Sam’s raised eyebrow through the phone and you quickly added,

“But I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”

“And since when did you call him Buck?”

This made you pause. You didn’t know when that change happened. It just seemed to develop gradually and seemed to fit.

“And you guys spend most nights together.”

“It helps with the nightmares.” You said quietly

“Really? You sure there isn’t another reason?”

“What are you implying?”

“Are you going out.”

“What! Sam! No! Buck and I are just friends.”

“Hmm.”

Sam didn’t sound convinced and you rubbed your eyes. You were glad that he couldn’t see your face as you could feel yourself blushing. The sound of knocking at the door gave you your escape and you jumped out of your skin when you heard it.

“Sorry Sam,” you said quickly, “Got to go.”

“Don’t think this conversation is over.”

“Ok, whatever, bye.”

You hung up and dashed towards the door. As you opened it and looked up into Bucky’s smiling face you knew the Sam’s words were going to be harder to forget than you initially thought.

You were right, you couldn’t get Sam’s words out of your head. They echoed around as Bucky pulled you close, seemingly engrossed in the film. You were just his friend but ow you longed to be more. How you wanted his eyes to light up whenever he saw you. In hindsight this was a stupid idea, sharing a bed with someone, even in a completely non-sexual way, something was bound to happen. Even if it was just missing the warmth of someone next to you while you slept.

You rolled over so you were facing Bucky. His arms were still wrapped around you and it surprised you about how easily it was to fall asleep in his arms, even with his metal arm curled tightly around you. You raised a hand and gently traced it alone his cheekbones and along his face.

Your gaze dropped to his lips as your fingers grazed along them. How you longed to feel them pressed against yours, to have his arms around you during the day and not just to help the both of you sleep at night.

Just then Bucky shifted in his sleep and rolled over. For a sickening moment you wondered if you had accidently woken him up, however, and much to your relief, that wasn’t the case. Bucky rolled onto his back and dragged you with him. You head was resting against his chest and you smiled as you rested against it and heard the steady thump of his heartbeat. You might as well make the most of it while it lasted.

After all, this couldn’t go on forever.

“Morning.”

You looked at Bucky as he entered your kitchen while you poured yourself a cup of tea. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders but you quickly removed yourself from his arms. These touches were becoming less platonic and more romantic especially since your conversation with Sam. You didn’t want to give Bucky the wrong impression or to get your feelings crushed.

“You ok?” he asked, “Did you sleep alright.”

“I slept fine.”

“Ok.” Bucky said slowly

You inhaled deeply as you turned so your back was facing Bucky. This was hard to do but you didn’t want to lead him on. You never meant to develop feelings for Bucky or for him to imagine that there was more to this than was originally planned.

“I think we need to talk.” You said at last

“Nothing ever good happens after those words,” Bucky said, “What’s wrong?”

You looked over your shoulder at him. Bucky was smiling softly but his eyes told a different story. Anxiety was laced inn them and you winced and looked away. You took another sip of your tea and Bucky took a step towards you. He lifted your chin and you looked in his eyes. You pulled your chin free and said,

“We need to stop this.”

“What?”

“This was a stupid idea,” you said, “I never should’ve agreed to it.”

“But it’s helping.”

You walked away as Bucky quickly followed you. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wasn’t meant to resist, he was meant to agree and let you go. It was supposed to be easy to let go of him.

“For you maybe.” You said

“What do you?”

“They’re back Bucky. My nightmares are back.

They weren’t, they hadn’t been back for months. You couldn’t stand seeing the pained look on Bucky’s face at your lie and you felt dirty for saying it. He took a step closer but stopped when you backed away.

“Why didn’t you say anything.” He said softly

“Because it was helping you.”

“Right.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“See a therapist I suppose.”

“Good. I, umm, hope it helps.”

“Same.”

“I’ll umm, I should be going.”

“You can stay for breakfast.”

“No,” Bucky said sharply, then winced at his tone, “No,” he repeated softly, “I should leave. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, sure.”

It was only when the door clicked softly behind him that you allowed yourself to crumple on the ground, tears pouring down your face.

“What’s wrong.”

“Nothing.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Drop it Sam.”

“Buck-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Y/n can.”

Sam saw the way Bucky flinched when he said your name. Bucky was currently lying on Sam’s sofa which almost gave Sam a heart attack when he walked into his living room that morning. It was too early to deal with whatever happened between the two of you and Sam needed at least two cups of coffee before dealing with it.

“What happened.” He asked

“Nothing.”

“Then why does it feel like you’ve come here after she dumped you.”

“She didn’t dump me.”

“So you dumped her?”

“We weren’t dating.”

“But you were sharing a bed.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky put a hand over his eyes, “It was just a way coping with our nightmares, at least,” he sighed, “I thought it was.”

“Oh?”

“Turns out she was still having them. Stopped it this morning.”

“Oh.”

Bucky looked over at Sam who was looking slightly guilty. He sat up and glared at his friend.

“Do you know what happened?” he asked

“No.”

“What do you say to her?”

“Nothing I wouldn’t say to you.”

“Which is.”

“You like her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“I mean,” Sam sighed, “You want to date her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“So? It’s obvious that you’re in love with her and she’s in love with you.”

“I don’t love her and she certainly doesn’t love me.”

“Then why are you here looking like you’re about to cry yourself to sleep after eating all my ice cream and watching shitty rom coms?”

“This was a bad idea.”

“Look, you can crash on my sofa if it makes you feel better,” said Sam, “But you need to sort this out with y/n. It’s hard enough listening to her when she talks about you.”

“She talks about me?”

The soft smile on Bucky’s face told Sam everything.

“All the fucking time.”

“What does she say?”

“Oh no,” Sam held up his hands, “You should talk to her about that.”

He heard Bucky’s groan as he collapsed back against his sofa. Sam could only hope that the two of you would stop dancing around each other and actually talk for once. He was getting tired of seeing you pine over one another.

“So, how long has it been since your last session with me?”

You shrugged.

“You have my notes Doc. You tell me.”

You therapist hummed in acknowledgement as she wrote a note in her notepad. You closed your eyes and tried to take calming breaths. This was a bad idea.

“So, tell me, how have you been?”

“Surviving.”

“Just that?”

“It’s been a shit couple of years. Give me some credit.”

“And what about your friends. You’ve been keeping in contact with them?”

“I talk to Sam.”

“Just Sam?”

“And Bucky.”

This earned you a raised eyebrow but nothing else.

“Sam introduced us,” you explained, “Couldn’t hang out with Sam without Bucky being there.”

“And are you two close?”

“Sam and I. Yes, he’s one of my closest friends. He was the only one who stuck with me after-“

You cut yourself off as your therapist said,

“Yes?”

“Doesn’t matter. You know what.”

“And what about you and Bucky.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Want to elaborate.”

You were silent for a moment, weighing up your options, before you said,

“Nothing leaves this room right?”

“Of course.”

“Just making sure. We’ve been sleeping together.”

“You’ve entered a sexual relationship with the Winter Solider?”

“He’s not the Winter Solider anymore!” you exclaimed, “And no, it’s not sexual. We’ve just been sharing a bed.”

“Why?”

“It helps…”

“Helps with what?”

“My nightmares.”

“Y/n,” she sighed, “What did I tell you about your nightmares. If you’ve been having them you need to tell me.”

“They stopped when I was with him. Bucky helped me and I fucked up by stopping seeing him.”

“Right,” another hurried note, “And is this because you want your relationship with Bucky to become sexual.”

You flushed angrily and stood up. The therapist held your gaze before you said,

“This is over.”

As you marched out of the room you heard her call,

“Same time next week!”

You lasted one week, one week of constant nightmares before you cracked. You grabbed your phone and debated whether or not you should call him before swallowing your pride and calling him.

“Y/n.”

Bucky answered almost immediately. You smiled through your tears as you pulled your legs up to your chest.

“What happened? Are you ok? Talk to me.”

“I killed someone.”

Silence.

“Where are you.”

“In bed,” you said, “My mentor, that’s why I have these nightmares. She was a good person who fucked up. She was more like a friend than a teacher, taking me under her wing when no one else would. She never abandoned me and when she needed me the most I betrayed her.”

You took a shaky breath and continued,

“She betrayed us, SHIELD, she was selling intelligence. She was only doing it was she was being blackmailed, at least that was what she told me, but no one listened to her. Fury told me to bring her in but she wouldn’t listen. Told me that she’d rather die than be remembered as a traitor. There was a fight and I… and I…”

“Go on.”

“I stabbed her. I killed her. I held her bleeding body in my arms as she died. She told me that she’d been lying, that she wasn’t being blackmailed, that she did it for the money. This person that I had been defending with my entire being was a traitor. Afterwards nobody could look me in the eye. I don’t know if it was out of pity or mistrust. Sam was the only one who didn’t treat me any differently. He understood my pain, my conflict, he defended me. I still have nightmares of her, laughing at my foolishness as I choke the life out of her each night for the pain she put me through. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Compared to me, you’re a saint. You’re a good person who was in a difficult situation. You didn’t want to betray your friend. You’ve been hurt and you want revenge on the person who caused that. You’re not a bad person and never think that.”

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You’re a good person too.”

“I think you’re one too.”

That earned you a chuckled down the phone and you found yourself smiling at the sound.

“Princess,” Bucky said, “You don’t know how wrong you are.”

“I’m a fairly good judge of character.”

“Only when you’re awake. You sound half asleep. Get some rest.”

“What about y-“

“Don’t worry about me. Just try and get some sleep.”

“Anything for you Buck.”

“Good girl.”

“Good night.”

“Night.”

You hadn’t heard from Bucky for several weeks and every day you were debating on whether or not to call him. To hear his voice down the phone, for him to come over, to launch yourself into his arms and tell him how sorry you were. How you regretted ever telling him that you needed to stop this, that you missed him, that you loved him.

For the third night in a row you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. You couldn’t get off to sleep, fears of seeing your dead mentor’s face filling you with dread. You continued with therapy and while it was helping it made you realise how much you missed Bucky. Suddenly a pounding at your door caused you to sit bolt upright. You hardly ever got any visitors especially at two in the morning.

“Y/n, y/n it’s me. Open this door. Please.”

Bucky.

You wasted no time in jumping out of bed and sprinting to your door. You flung it open and Bucky practically fell inside. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a tight hug. You walked backwards, still in Bucky’s arms, and he kicked the door closed behind him. When you felt your shoulder getting damped your eyes widened and you slowly returned the embrace.

“Bucky,” you said quietly, “What happened.”

“I kill you.”

“Umm.”

“Well, not me, he did. I wasn’t in control but I could feel everything. I was powerless to stop him as he took you away from me. I couldn’t… I couldn’t go on without knowing that it was all a nightmare. That you’re still alive.”

“I am,” you rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder, “I am. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No, I am. I never should’ve stopped this but I was afraid.”

“Afraid.”

Bucky looked up and you gave him a sad smile.

“I was afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same. That I have fucked up because I never expected to get used to this. To being with you and I knew that you didn’t feel the same. That I was just your friend, so I ended it before my feelings developed any further. I thought I was saving myself from pain and I ended up just hurting both of us. I lied Bucky, my nightmares did stop when I was with you but I was afraid of getting hurt.”

You buried your head against Bucky’s chest. His arms tightened around you as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“You have no idea,” he said at last, “How painful it has been to wake up in an empty bed. To know that you were out there and possibly in pain. That I was using you to actually fall asleep while you were in pain.”

“I hurt you though. I was selfish.”

“And I was being selfish as well.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Yes I was.”

“No you weren-“

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Bucky had lifted your chin and pressed his lips against yours. You froze in his embrace. Of all the times you imagined kissing Bucky you never thought it would be with tears covering your face and on the verge of completely breaking down. When you weren’t returning the kiss Bucky reluctantly broke it. He moved away and opened his mouth but you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him back. You felt him smile against your lips and when you broke it gasping for air he rested his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He said quietly

“I think I have some idea,” you said, “Forgive me?”

“Yes.”

You relaxed and smiled up at him.

“Good. Now let’s get back to bed.”

“Princess, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

#fanfiction #mcu #fatws #reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

191 notes · View notes

stevetonyweekly · 3 years

Text

SteveTony Weekly - May 2

I know I say every week that I read a lot this week but I have been indulging in my favorite coping technique and so this list is ridiculously long. Twitter encouraged me. Blame them.

**Indicates my recent favs

~*~

On the inherent homoeroticism of cake decoration by welcoming_disaster (616/8K)

“She’s matchmaking, Barton,” Carol sighed.

“We,” Thor corrected, thumping himself hard in the chest, “art matchmaking.”

“Who, Cap n’ Tony?” Clint asked, his mouth full.

“Cap and Tony,” Janet confirmed, cutting herself a thin slice of egg and gently depositing it on her whole grain avocado toast, “it’s getting ridiculous.”

“Wait, I thought they were—“ Clint frowned, glancing around the room as though to confirm. Nothing but confused faces met his questioning gaze. “Huh. I really thought they were fucking.”

“And there is the crux of the issue,” Jess licked a bit of spaghetti sauce off her lip.

“Aye,” agreed Thor, “there’s rub.”

-----------

The team tries to set up Steve and Tony. Things don't go as planned.

Baby lovers like you and me (never say die) by FestiveFerret (Old Guard AU/7.5K)

The Avengers. They'd found him frozen in the ice, told him he was immortal, of all things. And with the way he'd lived through seventy years deep in the Atlantic, he found himself inclined to believe them. They'd also been very… convincing.

Without question, they integrated him into their unit - The Avengers, a secret team of unkillables seeking wrongs around the world and making them right, supported and housed by an enigmatic billionaire named Tony Stark. Their immortality, it seemed, was a secret to everyone but him.

Ready, set, bake by ChocolateCapCookie (Great British Bake Off/11k)

The Avengers are on a nationally televised baking competition, but nobody seems to have warned the producers that the Avengers, while they save the world everyday and put their loves at risk doing so, are a) insanely competitive, and b) absolutely terrible bakers. Steve Rogers, especially, has a competitive streak a mile wide, and he's determined to win this competition, but it's not easy when his only real opponent is also the man he's been in love with for years.

***To make flowers grow (in this barren heart) by SoldiersShield, KakushiMiko (Hanahaki AU/16K)

“You hide yourself away in your technology, but you are just as human as the rest of them. Your heart betrays your desire to possess.” Her gaze falls to the arc reactor, and Tony's blood runs cold in his veins.

“The Earth will reclaim what we have lost,” she says, dragging a hand over the chestplate of the armor. “It is you, and your kind-- your greed that pulls life from the soil as if it were nothing. You will reap what you have sown, Stark. The avarice in your heart will strangle the very life out of you.” Arna meets his eyes once more, a serene smile on her face as she leans forward.

“I hope he is worth dying for,” she murmurs, before digging her hand into his ribcage.

(Tony Stark falls in love with Steve Rogers. A rogue enchantress ensures he pays for it.)

Shelter from the storm by silkspectred (KidFic/5k)

Tony adopts a baby. Guess who's Majorly Fucked Up™ about it.

Keep on beating by itsallAvengers (Domestic Fluff/6K)

There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

The good or bad thing by petreparkour (Multiverse/10k)

“It’s the metal suit,” Thor informed Steve, his normally-booming voice tinny over the SHIELD comms. “What did Stark call it—Iron Man?”

“But he’s down here,” Steve protested as the Hulk roared in Stark’s face, startling him into waking with a shout. “How could—”

“It’s damaged,” Thor reported. “But it looks different. More advanced. And he—ah. He’s carrying you, Captain.”

“Please tell me nobody kissed me,” Stark breathed out, and then Stark’s voice suddenly came over the comms, but the man lying next to him hadn’t moved.

“Guys, come on, you’re killing me here. What is it, 2012? God, I hate time travel. First, I'm fighting Thanos. Now, I have to deal with my past self and Thor's bad haircut? Oh my God, Cap, yes I hacked their comms, they’re my comms.”

Steve nearly opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t said anything when he realized that this replica of Tony Stark wasn’t speaking to him.

***The tipping point by nightwalker (Domestic Fluff/7K)

Tony has a few quirks. Steve's still trying to figure them all out.

We two, how long we were fool’d by glassessay (Soulmate AU/9K)

Steve Rogers comes into the world as unblemished as his mother. When Anthony Stark is born, his soulmark is an obvious pattern of ink across his tiny chest.

It only takes a century, two names, and a shared love of Walt Whitman for them to find each other.

The tape in the cave by betheflame (Canon Divergent/5K)

Steve had no idea what was happening.

“You think I didn’t know that?”

Tony was staring Zemo down as though the Sokovian was actual vermin - which, Steve reflected, he kind of was.

“You think that I,” Tony continued, not hiding the sneer in his voice, “Anthony Stark, who has more powerful technology in my literal fingers than most nations have, that I wouldn’t know everything possible about how my parents died? That I wouldn’t know it wasn’t an accident, that your silly little HYDRA Nazi knock-off pals are the ones who murdered them? Please, you are pathetic.”

Happy ending by Robin_tCJ (No-Powers AU/28K)

Steve is a mobile massage therapist, and Tony is a stressed billionaire. What could go wrong?

With a decent happiness by torigates (Teacher AU/16K)

Tony Stark is Iron Man. Steve Rogers isn't, and never was Captain America.

Or, the one where everything is the same except Steve is a kindergarten teacher.

Nothing left but scars by SailorChibi (MCU/6.7K) - Reread

Steve wakes up to the fact that no one ever compliments or even says thank you to Tony, and that he has fallen into the same trap of painting Tony with a specific paintbrush.

This is how he showers a very confused Tony with praise to make up for it.

Our hearts should remember and follow by frostfall (MCU/5K)

Steve hums. “I didn’t know you could play. Or sing. Don’t think I’ve heard anyone mention it before.”

Tony shrugs. “It’s one of the few things, skills, I don’t flaunt. Not something people are interested in, anyway. Not gonna sway any board members by playing fucking Für Elise for them. Sides’, there’s a high chance I wouldn’t even play. Well, maybe if you get me drunk enough and near an instrument. Then, I might reconsider.”

(After a dream leaves Tony rattled, he turns to the piano as a way to distract himself.)

Finally, you and me by pensversusswords (Multiverse/10K)

Because in every layer of time, in every conceivable dimension, he was always meant to love Steve.

By some miracle, Steve was meant to love him back.

***Full disclosure not required (but appreciated) by Potrix (Identity Porn/16k)

The one where Steve knows more than he lets on, Tony knows less than he pretends, Clint has a big mouth, Bucky is a little shit, and everyone learns why keeping secrets never ends well.

Almost never, anyway.

Heartlines by nanasekei (MCU/7.9K)

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.”

i found a way to let you in, but i never really had a doubt (marriage series) by quidhitch (Marriage Series/16k)

Tony Stark doesn’t believe in marriage. It’s nobody’s fault. —Well, it’s Howard's fault, probably, but Tony doesn’t like to think about that for too long, finds that it dredges up all sorts of issues he’d rather keep buried under a mountain of strategically employed sarcasm, humorous self-deprecation, and the occasionally effective substance abuse.

***Hide your love away by sineala (Soulmate/33K) - Reread

Tony has suspected for a long time that the soulmark on his chest matches Steve's -- but he's never told Steve about it. And then it's too late to tell Steve anything at all ever again. In the wake of Steve's death, the Skrull invasion, and Norman Osborn's rise to power, the identity of his soulmate is just one of the many things Tony cuts out of his memory forever.

When Tony returns to consciousness, he's forced to deal with the aftermath of a war he no longer remembers fighting, not to mention a Steve Rogers who can barely stand to be in the same room with him. Surely the last thing Tony could ever need in his life is more amnesia. But that's what he gets. And Tony's new missing memory just might be the key to finding out the truth of his soulmark... as well as his chance to make things right once and for all.

Break the chain (can’t live in circles again) by orphan_account (FWB/19K)

There had been seven amazing weeks of dating Steve Rogers before Tony realised that they weren’t dating at all. And then it was a scramble to adjust to the situation as it had always been: being Steve’s friend-with-benefits.

And if Steve seemed a little confused and bewildered by the way Tony was acting, well. Tony was probably just misreading that, too.

Five times steve and tony (tried to) bail each other out of jail by Teyke (MCU/6k)

Twice before Civil War, twice after, and once during. For very loose definitions of both 'bail' and 'jail'.

Cracked hearts under iron ribs by XtaticPearl (Established Relationship/14k)

Rhodey is away for almost six months now and comes to meet Tony after the mission. He doesn't understand the domesticity of the whole Tower and unknowingly sets off a whole truck of insecurities which make Tony crawl back into being a Stark instead of just Tony. The team is not at all happy and Rhodey joins them in trying to figure out a way to help their resident genius feel better in his skin.

The single biggest problem with communication by BlossomsintheMist (616/108K)

In the wake of Steve's return from the dead and the end of Norman Osborn's reign of terror, the superhero community is recovering--Steve has taken on a new role and Tony is trying to put his life back together. Things are still awkward between them, but they're determined to put things to rights. But when a discussion about their feelings leads to further misunderstandings, they discover that might be more difficult than either of them realized. Set in the early Heroic Age after the end of Dark Reign, this is a get-together story about crossed wires--and second chances.

What are friends for? by bobertsmallismydad (MCU /2.8K)

In which Steve is targeted by a virus. Will the Avengers be able to save him in time?

Starving by festiveferret (Vampire AU/2K)

Steve woke up starving.

***Everybody wonders (What it would be like to love you) by SoldiersShield (MCU/3K)

“...Is that what this is about?” He asks slowly. Steve blanches.

“Oh my god. It is.” Tony has no right looking as giddy as he does. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?”

Or: Steve and Tony have been dancing around each other for a while now, and Steve's rather content with it. Attending a gala together just might change that.

Re(A)d all over by brandnewfashion, MusicalLuna (Drunk Flirting/3k)

Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark can blush.

It just takes Steve getting drunk on some magical Asgardian mead for it to finally happen.

***The Do-over Proposal by nightwalker (Established Relationship/1.2k)

Steve wants to go on a journey, Tony doesn't think it's a good time, and Bucky needs to beat some sense into both these idiots.

A Winter’s Ball by alliejowrites (Victorian AU/3.8K)

Steve moves to London in search of a patron, so that he can finally devote himself to painting. He is not expecting everything he finds upon meeting Lord Stark. A fluffy little Victorian AU. One-shot.

What’s a fanfic by starksnack (AvAc/1K)

Kamala introduces Tony and Steve to the world of fanfiction. There is a surprising amount of content about them being gay.

#stony #superhusbands #stevetony fic #stevetony weekly #stevetony #fic recs #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain ameria

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buckysflannelpajamas · 3 years

Text

Bleeding Hearts

Summary: Being Tony Starks daughter has its pros and cons. One of the pros being you get to live with your best friends, the Avengers. One of the cons you will soon find out is having to deal with the one and only, James Buchanan Barnes...

Takes place during the imaginary time after Civil War where everyone love in the tower and goes through to Endgame.

Trigger warning: Talks of depression/depressing thoughts

Chapter 5

2nd person POV

Fading. That's how you describe the feeling when you start to stoop into a depressive episode. You can feel your emotions fading to numbness, and eventually an all encompassing emotional down. Each avenger has their own way of trying to help you through it. Honestly you want to be left alone for the most part, alone to dwell in the sadness you think you deserve. It was harder when you first decided to move back into the tower after living on your own when you had been released from the hospital. In the beginning, you couldn't even get a moment alone. But eventually everyone got into a pattern of how they help you deal with your depression.

Wanda and Vision make you baked goods. Mainly strawberry cupcakes. Wanda comes to deliver them to your room every morning, and subtly implies she will be going shopping later and hinting at you coming. It worked a total of one time. But after having a mental breakdown in the Gucci dressing room you realized it probably wasn’t best for you to be in public when you feel this way.

Steve and your dad are always the most worried. They check on you multiple times a day. Steve also draws you caricatures of avengers and writes something funny underneath them. This is the closest Steve has ever gotten to understanding memes. Tony on the other hand tries to lure you out of your funk by bribing you with a trip to your favorite Korean food restaurant in South Korea via his private jet.

Pepper sends you flowers. The two of you aren’t close and aren't overly fond of eachother. You assume she mainly sends the flowers to please Tony.

Peter constantly sends you memes throughout the day, which you mostly ignore.

No one knows where Thor and Bruce are so it’s safe to say they don't know when you’re suffering, and no one wants to call Clint just to inform him you’re sad again.

Uncle Rhodey usually finds out because Tony needs to vent to someone about his worries. What he does for you by far one of the coolest things. He has a military buddy of his hack into the computers of major entertainment companies so you can see blockbuster movies before they are released.

Natasha, who is sort of a mother figure to you though the two of you would never admit it, comes to you late at night when your insomnia kicks in. Neither of you speak, she simply sits down on your bed beside you and braids your hair while the TV show ‘how it’s made’ plays softly in the background. The two activities always help you to sleep. And on the nights you can’t stop crying, she’ll lie there with you, rubbing your back like a mother calming her child until her tears stop.

Finally, Sam comes in the moment you need it most, right when you are so tired and drained that you’re ready to open up about how you're feeling.

It’s day 3 of your depression and you have just reached that point. Somehow, Sam always knows when you’re ready.

You’re sitting up in bed, bundled up in an exuberant amount of blankets and staring blankly at the wall in front of you. Your mind drifts through a series of depressing thoughts.

Pathetic.

Worthless.

Burden.

These are the words that are most consistently in your mind.

For a moment you consider no longer taking your meds. Sometimes it feels as though they don't work anyway.

That’s when you hear the knock outside your living room door.

“Friday, tell Sam he can come on in.” You mumble to the disembodied AI, your voice raw from all the crying you’ve been doing.

“Of course, miss.” Even Friday sounds saddened by your less than pleasant mental state.

You don’t bother to wipe your tears away, you would be crying soon again anyway.

You hear Sam make his way through your front door, passing through the living area and opening the door to your room.

You notice Sam holding a steaming plate of eggs, sausage, and hash browns in one hand. He must have found out from Friday that all you’ve really eaten this week is Wanda and Visions strawberry cupcakes.

“I would have brought some OJ too but then I wouldn’t have been able to open the door.” Sam jokes. He takes a quick glance around your room, trying to gauge how bad the episode is. Used tissues cover the floor by the right side of the bed. Worn pajamas are strewn around on the floor and the pile of clothes you leave on your chair hasn’t been cleaned up. You usually clean it once a week. Not to mention your greasy hair makes it obvious that you haven’t showered in a few days.

“Pretty bad, huh?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.” You answer honestly. You don’t need to bullshit with Sam.

He takes a seat by you on the bed, placing the food in front of you. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, but-“

“But you feel like you deserve the pain?”

“You know that.” You sigh.

“Tell me why.”

“You know why too.”

Sam pushes a fork in your hand. “I’m trusting you with this.” He jokes, earning an actual laugh from you before moving on. “I have a general idea, but I don’t like to make assumptions.”

You poke at the eggs with your fork. “I-“ it’s hard to speak. You know at any moment you’re going to break out sobbing. “I feel so weak.” You choke out. “I put the whole team at risk by being naive enough to think a guy wouldn’t try drugging my drink at a crowded party. Even if it is my house.”

Sam doesn't speak yet. He always waits for you to let it all out.

“How could I be so fucking stupid?!” You sob. “I was selfish. Why do you all even keep me around? I’m a liability and a burden to the team. I hate that about myself and I hate that I’m so weak! I hate that no matter how hard I train, I’ll never be strong like any of you! And I know that that’s also selfish because you all went through so much pain to be what you are, but I can’t help but feel insignificant. I’m just some dumb fucking artist that sits around all day doddling while you all are actually doing something meaningfull in the world!” There it is. The root of what triggered your episode. It’s not just about Authur. It's about the fact that you can’t protect yourself. It’s the constant feeling of insignificance that lingers in the back of your mind.

Sam puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently. “First of all, you’re not just some dumb fucking artist.” He quotes you. “You are a world renowned artist and you should be proud of it. More importantly, you are not insignificant or a burden. Ok? If we didn’t want you around, you wouldn’t be here. We all love you and want you to be here with us. You’re part of our family. You might not be on the front lines, but you do more for the world than you know.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah I doubt that.”

“I mean it.” Sam Insists. “You said so yourself that you know how much pain we’ve been through. How do you think the avengers would keep it together without their own little therapist.” He laughs lightly.

You furrow your brows. “Um, Sam, I’m not a therapist. I can barely keep myself together.”

“You might not be licensed but you are always there for us. Getting us to talk through our thoughts and feelings. Giving us advice and helping us come to a resolution.”

“That’s what friends are for.” You shrug.

“Yeah well friends don’t usually have to deal with their other friends' war trauma and helping them deal with finding out their best friend they thought was dead is actually alive and actively trying to kill them.”

You stay silent for a moment. “I guess that’s true.”

Sam pats you lightly on the back. “You keep the avengers sane so that we can help the world. Which is just as important.”

Finally, you take a bite of your eggs. “I disagree that it’s just important but I know that argument won’t go anywhere, so I’ll just accept it.”

“I know that this conversation won’t solve all of life's problems, but maybe it helped you feel good enough to to get up out of bed? Maybe get up and take a shower? No offense, but you don’t exactly smell like daisies.” He laughs.

You shove Sam in the arm. “Hey! You should take a whiff of yourself after you come back from a mission.”

“Touché.” Sam pauses, noticing something on your bedside table.

“Sour gummy worms? That’s not part of your usual routine…” Sam trails of, reaching over you to grab the box of candy before you have a chance to stop him.

“Wait-”

It's too late, he sees the note written in scribbly cursive on the piece of paper attached to the back of the box.

“Who’s this from?” He asks curiously, hoping from your bed and moving around as you chase him down, frantically trying to remove the letter from his grasp.

“Sam stop!”

“Dear y/n,” Sam starts to read aloud. “I don’t pity you. I relate to you. When I said I’m sorry I meant it.”

You jump, reaching for the letter but Sam moves it high above his head.

He continues to read. “I meant to tell you sorry before the party. I only blew up at the hospital because I was mad at myself for letting someone on the team get hurt. I shouldn’t have been such an asshole to you. I know it’s a lousy excuse but I was just jealous of your happiness. If you give me the chance, I’d like to make it up to you. I heard you like Star Wars. I haven’t seen the movies… maybe we can watch them sometime? Sincerely, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Sam looks at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. “You two got a movie date?”

You finally snatch the candy and letter from his hand. “See this is why I didn’t want you to read it! I knew you would take it that way.” You pout.

“How else am I supposed to take it?” Sam laughs.

“Like a guy with a guilty conscience is trying to be nice to the sad girl.” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“You can be so blind to some things.” He shakes his head.

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?”

Sam takes a seat back down at the end of your bed. “Everyone living in the tower can tell he has the hots for you.” He pauses in thought. “Expect for Tony. Barnes would be as good as dead if he knew.”

“You’ve been talking to Nat and Wanda, haven’t you?”

“And Steve and Vision.” He grins. “We have a whole group text dedicated to the conversation.”

“Great.” You groan, rubbing your temples as you take a seat by Sam on the bed.

“Look, you don’t have to believe me. But you should at least give him a chance to make it up to you. I’m not Barnes biggest fan, but he’s really not a bad guy.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Sam interrupts you.

“Just think about it, ok?” Sam gets up from your bed, making his way to the door. “And take a shower in the meantime! You stink little sister!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at him, the pillow only managing to hit the door as he closes it.

“And eat some food too!”

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x reader

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

Text

Song of the Sea

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Eri, Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada

Eri jumped as her bedroom door burst open, followed by a very familiar voice announcing, “Hey, hey, stop what you’re doing, because we’re going to the beach todaaaaaayyy!”

“The beach?” Eri said owlishly as she looked up from her tea table, where she was currently pouring imaginary tea for the myriad of stuffed animals seated around the small pink furniture. As Present Mic waltzed into her bedroom, wiggling his hips in a giddy little jig, his grin was nearly blinding.

“That’s right, my dear! Summer is here, and your therapist thought it would be good for you to go out and get some sunshine!” he explained as he crouched down and picked up one of the ceramic cups. He shook it at her, silently demanding to be served, and Eri giggled delightedly as she used the floral-patterned teapot to distribute. Present Mic took a long, exaggerated sip of air, emerald eyes glittering playfully above the rim of the cup before he pulled it away from his lip with a loud, satisfied sigh. “Delicious! Anyway,” he said, bopping her on the nose as she continued to snicker, “How does that sound?”

“I’ve never been to the beach before,” Eri considered, cocking her head to the side. From what she knew of the beach, it was supposed to be an enjoyable place indeed. Ever since being rescued from Overhaul’s clutches, she had been making considerable efforts to come out of her shell and do things that normal little girls did. A smile spread across her face as she imagined the rolling waves cresting on pristine white sands, tasting the salty sea breeze and feeling the sun kissing her skin. “Yeah! That sounds really fun!” she agreed with an emphatic nod.

“Wonderful!” Present Mic trilled and clapped his hands together. “Let’s go, then!”

“Wait, right now?” Eri squeaked in surprise as he hopped to his feet. She looked hesitantly at her array of stuffed animals. “But I haven’t finished the tea party.” It would be very rude of her to leave her guests wanting tea and snack cakes.

“Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Present Mic tutted, smacking himself in the forehead. “How rude of me! Scoot Mr. Teddy over so I can enjoy some tea too, Eri, dear.” Eri did as he wished, cackling as the tall man wormed his way into one of the wooden chairs, his knees hunched up under his chin. He grabbed one of the chocolate cream-filled pastries and devoured it in nearly one bite, crumbs raining down from his chin. “We’ll finish this first and then go to the beach!”

Eri nodded eagerly and then proceeded to finish serving her guest, along with the newcomer Present Mic. Eraserhead found them there half an hour later, with his friend loudly regaling Eri’s stuffed bunny rabbit with a story about their high school glory days. Eri was cackling maniacally at his gut-bustingly funny rendition of Eraserhead falling asleep on the school rooftop and getting drenched by a surprise thunderstorm.

“And he came trudging into class, dripping wet and had to explain—” Present Mic was interrupted as Eraserhead grunted in the doorway. His head whirled on his shoulders to look at the disgruntled teacher with wide emerald eyes. “Oh, hello, Shota.”

“I thought we were taking Eri to the beach?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, but I had to finish my tea party!” Eri explained with a gesture at her stuffed animals, which all had snack cake-colored stains over their snouts. Eraserhead regarded the myriad of toys with silent consideration before nodding understandingly.

“Right. Of course. Are you done now?”

“Yes, I think so.” At her confirmation, Present Mic jumped up with a triumphant yowl, throwing his hands in the air.

“Yeeeeeeeaaaahhhh! Beach time, beach time! Oh, Shota, did you bring it? Did you bring it?” Present Mic pestered as he zoomed up to Eraserhead and tugging elatedly on his shirt. The dark-haired hero scowled and shoved him away with an irritated, “Yes, yes, now get off!” Eri blinked confusingly as Present Mic bristled with excitement in the corner, and Eraserhead procured a plastic bag to fish something out of it. “If we’re going to the beach, you need a swimsuit,” he explained simply as he handed her the clothing item.

Eri turned it over in her hands, eyes widening. It was a beautiful one-piece; three rows of red ruffles crossed the bust area diagonally, with strings coming up to tie around the back of her neck and others crisscrossing over where her shoulder blades would be. The rest of the fabric was creamy white and patterned with apples, complete with little stems and green leaves. As she admired the cute bathing suit, Present Mic dashed over, tucking his fists under his chin as he practically vibrated with excitement.

“Do you like it?! Oh, when we saw it, we just knew it would look super cute!”

“Mic, that’s gross.”

“Eh? What’s the point of having an adorable daughter without dolling her up for the world to see?!”

“Mic, she’s not your daughter.”

“She might as well be!” Present Mic protested, hugging Eri close. As her cheek squished into his chest, Eri smiled sweetly and looked up at him.

“I love it! Can I go put it on?”

“Of course, of course!” Present Mic trilled, pushing her past Eraserhead to the hallway bathroom. “And while you get ready, Shota and I will get everything ready for our super-duper awesome day at the beach! Yeeaaaaaaaaaah!”

Eri had to giggle at his enthusiasm; she found herself thoroughly hyped for the new adventure as he shut the bathroom door behind her and dragged Eraserhead off to prepare all the necessary items. She wormed out of her clothes and slipped into the bathing suit, careful not to tangle the strings as she tied them around her neck. It took a few tries as she was too short to use the mirror, so she had to fumble underneath her silvery hair to secure the knot. Eri felt pretty accomplished when she managed to do so without asking for the adults’ help. As soon as she unlocked the door and opened it back up, Present Mic was standing there in a muscle tee and a pair of yellow shorts with rainbow music notes all over them, a towel around his neck and that same grin on his face.

“Kyaaaaaa! Shota, isn’t she the most adorable thing ever?” he howled with delight. Eraserhead, sporting a gray tee and some plain black swim trunks, lowered his shades to inspect Eri critically. Though he lifted his sunglasses before grunting his approval, she could see some color rise to his cheeks. Present Mic scurried over to secure her hair into a set of pigtails before ushering her to the door. “We’re gonna have so much fun! Ah, wait, wait, wait,” he said as she stepped out of the door. When she looked back in bewilderment, he was whipping out his cellphone. “Say cheese! I have to show everyone how cute Eri looks on her first day at the beach!”

Eri reflexively smiled, wincing as the camera flash momentarily blinded her. Present Mic snickered to himself as his fingers flew across the keyboard, probably posting the picture everywhere it could be seen. That is until Eraserhead booted him out the doorway, causing Present Mic to yelp and rub his bum with a pout at his friend. Eraserhead just trudged past him, carrying a beach bag full of towels and other assorted items to the car. Eri tottered along after him, pigtails swinging with each trot. As she climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in, she peered curiously into the bag; before she could get a good look, Eraserhead reached back from the driver’s seat to close it.

“You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?” he winked. Eri slumped a little as she was playfully admonished, but a surprise did sound fun.

She obediently refrained from peeking during the ride. It became the furthest thing from her mind anyway as they neared the shore; she sat up in the seat to stare at the expanse of blue stretching along the horizon, red eyes wide as they behold the white rolling waves and even whiter rolling dunes. Colorful umbrellas and towels dotted the landscape. Beachgoers lounged in the shade reading books and listening to portable radios, played in the wet sand moistened by the tide, or frolicked in the surf, tossing balls and playing with inflatables. Eri bounced up and down, growing so excited that a little squeal bubbled out of her throat. When she looked impatiently to the front compartment of the car, both Eraserhead and Present Mic were smiling happily at her out of the corners of their eyes.

As soon as they parked, Eri jumped out of the car to dash to the sand. She hopped off the boardwalk into the grainy stuff, gasping as her bare feet sank into the warm grains. She wiggled her toes, appreciating the way the sand moved around her feet like fluid. She then jumped up and down with a squeal, throwing up the fine sand all around her.

“The beach! The beach!” she chanted, turning in a circle as she stamped around. Eraserhead chuckled as he walked up behind her, carrying an umbrella and two fold-out chairs over his shoulder.

“Having fun already, kiddo? Wait until you see the water.”

Eri gasped, whirling around so hard she lost her balance and bumped into Eraserhead’s legs. She could hear the waves rolling beyond the dunes, crashing and frothing. She ran up the side of the dune, grunting as she sunk deep into the sand, to clamber up to the top. She immediately sucked in a breath as the water came into view and the salty breeze hit her nose; it looked ethereal, the way the water rushed in and out, spraying up sea foam as it sank into the sand. Squeals of children and pleasant conversation floated on the breeze, creating a symphony of revelry on the tune of the ocean.

“Wowwww…” she breathed exultantly, looking up at Eraserhead and Present Mic as they came walking up the dune. “We’re really gonna spend the day here?” It almost seemed too good to be true; tears of gratitude and joy welled up in her eyes as she looked back to the gently crashing waves. In the deep dungeons of Overhaul’s compound, she could only dream of the ocean. Now here it was, right before her very eyes, close enough to touch.

“Of course,” Eraserhead smiled. He adjusted his grip on the chairs and umbrella before extending his hand to her. “Let me put this stuff down, and then we’ll go into the water, okay?” Eri nodded without looking at him, spellbound by the push-and-pull of the waves, but she reached for his hand on instinct. It wrapped around her small one, tough and calloused and warm, and led her down the side of the sand dune to the beach. Eraserhead left Present Mic to set up the chairs and umbrellas as he led Eri to the shoreline, where she stopped hesitantly in front of the water. The back-and-forth crashes almost seemed intimidating, now; surely, those waves could suck her right in and spirit her away into the great dark unknown. With a small whimper, she hugged Eraserhead’s leg and tugged at the ruffles of her bathing suit.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let you go anywhere,” Eraserhead chuckled warmly and gave her back an encouraging pat. She clutched tight to his hand as she tentatively inched up to the waterline. As a wave came rolling up, foaming and dumping seashells into the wet sand, she dipped her foot into the water. She squealed and retracted it, giddy with relief.

“It feels good!” Again, as the wave came cresting up, she edged forward, sticking her whole foot in this time. She laughed at the funny feeling of the bubbles popping against her skin and the water swirling around, making the shells bump against her ankle. She quickly leaned down to scoop up one. It was a cracked scallop shell, but the brown-and-cream patterning was so pretty that she still found herself holding it up to the sun to admire it. “So this once had a clam in it?”

“Yep,” Eraserhead confirmed, taking it from her to look it over. “Now it’s an empty shell. It’s broken, but would you still like to keep it?”

“Mhmm!”

Eraserhead whistled to Present Mic, who obediently brought over a bucket that she could drop the shell into. Before she could dive down to get another one, Present Mic tapped her on the head with a tube of something.

“Eri, let’s put on some sunscreen first, okay?”

She nodded obediently, and he leaned down, popping open the cap and squeezing a generous amount of the thick white cream into his head. Eri scrunched up her face as he rubbed it all into the skin of her face, then slicked it over her arms, legs, and the bare areas of her back. She grimaced at first because it made her feel gross and sticky, but she tolerated it because she knew it would make him sad if she objected.

The two men crouched beside her as she weaved her hands through the sloshing surf to catch the shells fluttering up from the deep, picking ones she liked to keep. She spent a good fifteen minutes there while the two looked on until Present Mic cleared his throat.

“Eri, would you like to go swimming?”

She straightened up, salty water dripping from her hands.

“Oh, but I don’t know how to swim…” she said with a longing look out at the sea. It certainly looked fun and refreshing. She glanced back when Eraserhead chuckled and patted her on the head.

“Don’t worry. We have floats for you.” As he said it, Present Mic approached, blowing up the second of a pair of strange-looking inflatables of transparent red plastic. Eraserhead dipped them in the water before sliding them up her arms, nestling them near her armpits. She flapped her arms up and down, giggling at the weird feeling of the plastic rubbing against her skin, and then watched as Eraserhead straightened up and offered her his hand again. Eri’s heart hummed with happiness as she reached up to take it, marveling at how strong yet soft it felt.

Even with all the people around, there hadn’t been a moment yet that Eri felt nervous because she always felt safe with Eraserhead. She wasn’t daunted in the least as he helped her wade out into the surf, the sand squishing beneath her toes and the salt spray lapping at her upper body and face because she knew that he’d never let her be dragged away. As she went deep enough to have to tip her head back, she lifted up her legs and began wildly kicking her legs. The floaties kept her buoyant on the waves, and she bobbed in a circle around his legs, occasionally bumping into him as she panted with effort.

“I’m swimming!” she screeched with delight, laughing as a wave pushed her up against his thighs. Eraserhead smirked as he pushed her a foot away, keeping a hold of her ankle. Eri squealed as she rolled onto her back and drifted on the sloshing water. “Mic, Mic, look!” she called to the blond as he came wading out into the water, his long hair piled into a bun atop his head. At that moment, a wave crashed over the back of her head, drenching her entirely.

“Ah! Eri, dear, are you all right?” Present Mic exclaimed and raced toward her at the speed of an Olympic swimmer.

“Ugh, you’re such a mother hen,” Eraserhead grunted as he calmly tugged the sputtering and coughing Eri close. “You okay?” he then asked, eyebrows pinched together. Eri flipped her dripping silver bangs out of her eyes, blinking rapidly as the salt stung, and sucked in a breath. After gathering her thoughts, she began laughing happily.

“I got wet,” she snickered. Present Mic deflated in relief before scooping her up to mount her on his shoulders. Her squeals of happiness bounded up to join the caws of the seabirds as Present Mic roared and charged the waves, kicking at them on the pretense of defending Eri from the sea. She clutched onto his head as she kicked her little feet too, although that high up, she could only nab some of the bubbly froth spraying up.

After about an hour of playing in the water, Eri retreated back inland to build a sandcastle. They decorated it with the shells she found, as well as bits of kelp and some driftwood. Present Mic declared her the queen of the castle and slapped a seaweed crown on her head; it felt really gross and slimy, so she chucked it at him on instinct, and Eraserhead started guffawing when it slapped across Present Mic’s face like an enormous mustache.

As she was watching a hermit crab scuttle across the sand, a large yawn split her face. She reached up to rub her eye with her knuckles, smearing sand and salt particles over her eyebrow.

“Tired, kiddo?” Eraserhead asked with a lopsided smile. She nodded and stood up to toddle over and hug his legs. He affectionately tousled her hair, which was dry and tangly from the salty water. Present Mic came up behind her to wrap her in a pink floral-patterned towel, and Eraserhead picked her up to carry her to their chairs and umbrellas. As he reclined in one of the fold-out chairs with a long sigh, she snuggled into his neck, playing with the ends of his long black hair.

“Did you have fun?” he asked as she smiled sleepily up at him.

“Mhmm,” she nodded and then yawned loudly again. As she nuzzled into him, enjoying the way the scent of salt mingled with the smell of his cologne, she quietly asked, “Can we come again sometime?”

“Sure.”

“Can Deku and Lemillion come too?”

“Sure. I’m sure they’d love to.”

Satisfied, Eri closed her eyes, embracing the drowsiness threatening to overtake her system. She listened to the rhythmic roll of the waves and the rush of the wind and the squawks of the seabirds and the symphony of shouts and laughs riding the wind. It really was a beautiful sound. As she sank into the sweet twilight of sleep, she found herself reminded again of all the heroes who risked their all to save her from the deep dark of the underground yakuza compound.

Thanks to them… I can listen to the beach anytime I want to. Thank you… My heroes…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#eri #shota aizawa #aizawa shota #hizashi yamada #yamada hizashi #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

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rocksandrobots · 4 years

Text

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 20 - Therapy

Varian sat on the leather couch inside the doctor’s office nervously bouncing his knee up and down. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to run, but he knew that would upset Aunt Cass who was seated on the chair next to the door.

This was meant to be his first therapy session and he didn’t know what to expect, or to say, or what to do. Both Hiro and Wasabi had told him that all he had to do was talk to the doctor about his problems, but Varian didn’t really feel like talking. He didn’t feel like delving into his past and reliving those painful memories. Moreover, he didn’t want anyone in this world to know of his mistakes, even if they were just a stranger.

Just then the door opened and a tall woman with short bobbed hair and glasses walked in. She wore a white lab coat and held in her hand a clipboard and pen.

“Hello, Miss Templeton. Are we here to see Hiro today?” The woman asked Aunt Cass.

“Oh hi, Dr. Mcguire.” Aunt Cass stood up to shake her hand. “No, I called earlier and told the secretary this, but I’d like you to meet Varian. Varian this is Dr. Mcguire. She’s our family therapist.”The woman smiled and shook his hand as well, as Aunt Cass contunited. “Varian is from Europe and I’m fostering him while he’s here in the states.”

“Oh exciting!” The woman enthused. “Is this your first therapy session, Varian?”

Varian nodded his head numbly, still too unsure of himself to speak.

“Well there’s many different types of therapy. I’m a grief counselor. I use different techniques to help people deal with loss or trauma, such as, listening to people talk about their feelings and problems, helping people develop healthy coping mechanisms for anxiety or depression, helping people pinpoint or understand where their underlying issues are and what might cause them to react the way they do to certain situations, and basically anything else that helps the patient cope with their grief.”

Varian listened to the woman intently but none of what she said made any sense to him. He knew what all those words individually meant on their own but all together it just sounded like a word salad to him. He had no idea what any of that actually entailed in practice.

"Well, now Varian, tell me a little about yourself?" The doctor asked as she sat at her desk.

Varian only stared blankly at her, unsure what she wanted to hear.

Dr. Mcguire expounded "Do you have any interests or hobbies?"

Varian looked back to Aunt Cass questionly and she gave him an encouraging smile and a go on motion with her hands.

"Ummm...I like alchemy."

"Alchemy? Like the history of it, or is that some new video game I haven't heard of yet?" Dr. Mcguire gently laughed at herself. "My kids are always trying to get me into the lastest gaming craze and I can never seem to get the hang of it."

Varian once again could only stare. He'd played a few video games with Hiro and Fred, but he had no idea what was deemed popular or not. Nor did he know how to explain to this woman that he was a practitioner of a long dead science.

When this didn't elect a response from him the doctor tried a new line of questioning.

"Do you have a favorite video game?"

Varian shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't played many of them. We didn't have video games back in Old Corona."

"That's the city he came from." Aunt Cass explained. "Varian is from a Russia territory."

"Oh. Well, what did you play in Old Corona?" Dr. Mcguire asked.

"Not much." Varian racked his brain for a childhood game, but there had been no other kids to play with and his dad was not much for chess.

"My cellmate and I would play 'Noughts and Crosses' to pass the time. It's a little like Gomoku, but you try to get three in a row instead of five, and you just draw an X or O on to a grid you drew in the sand instead of having a board and colored pieces.'

"Oh we call that tic-tac-toe here." Aunt Cass cheerfully said, not immediately picking up on his mention of being in jail.

The doctor however did notice. "Cellmate?" She asked with concern.

Varian clamped his mouth shut at that. He didn't want to go into why he had been in prison, certainly not with Aunt Cass there.

Sensing the Varian's discomfort and seeing Dr. Mcguire's confusion, Aunt Cass spoke up. "I'm guessing the secretary didn't give you the forms we filled out?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I saw your name on the appointment and just assumed it was time again for Hiro's session. I'm sorry, that was unprofessional of me to assume and not come prepared. Would you like to reschedule?"

Aunt Cass looked to Varian. "It's up to you, sweetie."

Varian really didn't want to go through all this again. "No. I'm good."

"Well do you feel like talking about what's wrong then?" Asked Mcguire.

Varian tightened his jaw, unsure how to say no to the woman. But Dr. Mcguire knew her business and understood what Varian meant even without words.

"It's ok." She soothed. "You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. We're not here to make you feel uncomfortable. Therapy is supposed to help, not hurt."

This relaxed Varian a little, but only a little. He didn't know what either adult wanted from him then.

"Varian, would it help if I left?" Aunt Cass offered. "Or would you prefer that I stay? Either one is fine. It's your choice."

Varian looked back and forth between both women trying to decide. He honestly didn't know which would be more stressful; dealing with the doctor alone or risking slipping up again and having Aunt Cass find out about his past crimes.

"I...maybe?" He eventually answered.

"Alright then. I'll be just right outside the door if you need me." She stood up, walked over to Varian, gave him a peck on the forehead and an encouraging smile before closing the door and leaving.

Varian had to admit, he could breath more easily now that she'd left the room.

"Well," Dr. Mcguire spoke back up, "if you rather not talk about your issues right now, would you like to write about them instead?"

Varian gave her a confused look and in response she dug into a drawer in her desk and pulled out a notebook.

"Sometimes people find it easier to write about things than to talk about them. I often give my patiences journals, so that they can get out their feelings about stuff, make goals and plans, or to help keep track of their triggers and their responses."

She handed the notebook to Varian. It was thin and curiously printed on the front were images of lizards with hats and sunglasses riding upon skateboards. Varian might have thought it absurd looking but he was distracted by something that the doctor had said.

"Triggers?" He asked.

"A 'trigger' is anything that might make someone remember their trauma. It can be anything from a familiar sound or object, to an action or situation that is similar to an event that the person went through. When someone who's been through trauma comes across one of their triggers they might experience a panic attack, flashbacks, get angry or upset, or even completely shut down so to speak."

Varian studied the woman thoughtfully. Wasabi had described what a panic attack felt like and it sounded eerily similar to what he had felt when he ran away that day. The way he felt after having a nightmare. The way he'd felt when he had come home to find his dad unmoving in the amber.

“Do..do nightmares count?” He asked hesitantly.

“Well, yes, in a way. Nightmares are often associated with PTSD. They are a way for your mind to process what has happened to you. But they can also be caused by other things, like stress, anxiety, or just a lack of sleep. You’d have to dream about something multiple times and analyze those dreams in order to figure out their cause.”

She paused and studied Varian intently before continuing. "Some people write dream diaries to track the patterns of what they dream and when. You write what you've dreamed, good or bad, when you wake up. You also may write things like what time you went to bed, how long did you sleep, or what you may have eaten that day as those can affect how well you sleep."

"You could use your journal for that." She gently suggested.

"Then...then I show it to you?" He asked in kind.

"If you want to. Though, once again, you don't have to do anything that you don't want to."

"But, if I did, would it help?" Varian pressed, "Would it get rid of them?"

"It might help." The woman said measuredly. "Though it might not. Or you may need to do that along with a combination of things. The only way to find out is to try it."

Dr. Mcguire gave him a soft smile and Varian turned her words over in his mind. He would love for the nightmares to stop. They had only become more frequent since he moved in with the Hamada's. As if deep down he feared this new change in his life would become permanent and his subconscious was warning him to return home before it was too late. But, even still, while the doctor was right about not knowing till you tried, he worried over his past and what she or others might think of him once known. Then again, no reason to take a dream literally, right?

"I've..I...I've been having nightmares lately." He finally admitted. Dr. Mcguire only nodded along. She most likely had already guessed as much, but she didn't interrupt.

"They're always different. Like they're about different things. Sometimes they're about my home or my dad, sometimes about my friends, both old and new, and sometimes about, ummm, being in jail." He muttered this last part but then quickly contunited on, "They all end the same way though. With me being alone."

He met the doctor's eyes questioningly, wondering how she might respond. She looked to be contemplating over what he'd just confessed.

"Hmmm…Well dreams are rarely the same each time. It's usually just the repeated elements that we look for when analyzing. That's how the journal would help. But it looks like you figured out one of those elements on your own. Does being alone scare you?"

Varian looked at her wide eyed. He didn't know how to feel about having one of his greatest fears pointed out to him. It was true of course, but he didn't like to admit it.

"A, little." He admitted sheepishly.

"A lot of people fear being alone. We're social creatures. Humans need other humans and so we seek out relationships. It's nothing to be embarrassed about." Mcguire tried to ease his fear.

"Were you on your own in jail? Did you feel alone there?" She pressed.

"No, well sometimes, but like I said I at least had a cellmate. That's better than when I was completely on my own before then."

Dr. Mcguire face grew more concerned but she didn't pursue anything else about his time alone. Instead she asked, "Were you friends with your cellmate?"

"No." Varian scoffed, complaining about Andrew was easier than talking about his time spent on the run. "Dude was a creep."

"Oh, did you fight with him often?"

"Not usually. In fact we got along fine, but that's only because he'd pretend to be nice to get what he wanted. I always knew that's what he was doing, but I, guess I just went along with it because….because it was better than not talking to anybody at all."

Dr. Mcguire furrowed her brow, "What did he want from you then?"

Varian wiggled in his seat at that. He didn't want to go into the prison break and what followed thereafter. "Just….stuff."

This did not ease the doctor's fear. "How old were you when you went to jail?"

"I had just turned fifteen." He didn't know where this was going.

"And your cellmate was what, also fifteen, sixteen?" She guessed.

"Oh no. Corona doesn't have, what did the policeman call it, 'juvenile detention center.' Anyways, uh, I'm not sure what age Andrew was. He never said, but I would guess, like, late twenties?" Varian shrugged but he only became even more confused when he noted the look of horror on Dr Mcguire's face.

"And where were the guards when he was making you do… stuff?" She tried to hide it but Varian could still hear the way her voice shook.

"Ummm...well the guards make their rounds of the cells every ten minutes and stand guard at the door between then. Or they're supposed to, anyways. Sometimes they're late or they're switching shifts, or even sometimes asleep." He broke from his matter of fact statement with a little laugh. "I once saw Pete the guard fall asleep while standing up and Stan, the other guard, had to prop him up with his spear to keep the Captain from noticing." He whispered conspiratorially as if imparting some juicy bit of gossip.

But the doctor wasn't amused.

"It would appear that your home country has a very different legal system than ours." She stated as if trying to find a way to navigate Varian's revelations.

"I'll say." He snorted. Complaining about the conditions of the dungeon itself didn't bother him as much as admitting how he'd got there. He supposed it was because everyone suffered the same indignity as he did while there. So he didn't feel singled out.

"I saw what those cells down at the police station here looked like last week. Let me tell you. They were pristine." He began to number the differences on his fingers." Clean, not drafty, there were toilets, electric lights. I was on the bottom floor of the dungeon and all we had was a grate on the ceiling that let the tiniest bit of light and air in from the cell above us. Of course that wasn't much cause that cell only had a small window to begin with."

The doctor interrupted his ramble. "But what about when you were aloud outside?"

"Outside?" He echoed in confusion. "We never went outside. Who'd let criminals out of their cells willingly?"

Dr. Mcguire darted her eyes back and forth as if equally flabbergasted. "But, but what about for exercise!? Showers!? Mealtimes!?"

Varian looked at her unsure how to answer, now only realising just how vastly different the two realities really were.

"We ate in the cells." He said flatly in lieu of anything else. "Is the food better here too?"

"I don't know? What did they serve you?"

"Usually gruel, or bread and water. Sometimes we'd get scraps from the castle's kitchen. Like leftover bone broth before it went bad. I guess not to starve us completely."

"Castle?" She echoed hollowly.

"The jail is underneath the government's palace." He explained.

"And is that the only prison? Wouldn't that get over full?"

"Yeah, it does. That's why they only keep people there until they ship them off on the prison barge or…. til they hang them." He quietly admitted.

This seemed to be the last straw for the doctor.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to compose herself.

"Well, that..uh..we seem to be reaching near the end of our session. How about we bring Miss. Templeton back in?" She flashed him a strained grin, but Varian knew she was rattled and he feared he'd said too much or had done the wrong thing.

"You mean Aunt Cass?" He asked.

"Yes. So you call her 'aunt' too?" He nodded. " Well let's get your aunt in here and we'll talk about how best to continue your therapy."

Dr. Mcguire walked out and Varian could hear her and Aunt Cass having a hushed and hurried conversion. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he knew it was about him. Soon after, they both reentered the room and Aunt Cass took a seat next to him on the couch.

Dr. Mcguire sat at her desk again and proceeded to make an announcement.

"So Varian and I have talked a little and he's decided that he's going to keep a dream diary, which he can share with me during our next few sessions if he would like. However, I feel that Varian might benefit from seeing a specialist."

Varian heart dropped. He was being turned away? He'd somehow managed to screw up his first therapy session so bad the doctor was pawning him off to someone else.

"But, aren't you a specialist?" Aunt Cass asked, equally confused.

"Yes, but I deal with post trauma, sudden events, like a car accident or the recent death of a family member. After talking to Varian, it appears he's been through prolonged trauma. It'll take a few more sessions to confirm this but, he may have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's related to regular PTSD, there is some overlap in symptoms, but ultimately it requires different treatment."

Varian's stomach began to churn and he felt his heartbeat quicken. All he heard, behind the doctor's unfamiliar terminology, was that he was somehow, wrong or broken, more so than even the troubled patients she normally worked with. He wanted to cry, but instead he blinked back tears as Dr. Mcguire contunited.

"I have the name of a psychiatrist that I can recommend. I've worked with him before alongside other patients."

She handed a business card to Aunt Cass who leaned forward to take from her. As she read it the doctor went on.

"Dr. Brown deals with former soldiers, war refugees, abuse victims, and others who've had to endure extremely harsh conditions. He's better experienced in such cases and as a psychiatrist he can also prescribe any medicine that Varian might need."

"Medicine!?" Varian exploded and both women looked at him with concern. "But, but I'm not sick." He whined in protest.

Dr. Mcguire stood up and walked over to him. She knelt down to his level and looked him in the eye.

"I don't know if you are or aren't, diagnoses of mental illnesses take time, but you might still need prescribed medication even if you don't have an illness. You mentioned not sleeping well, something as simple as a herbal tea with added melatonin could help with that. However as a psychologist, and not a psychiatrist, I can legally write you a prescription for that, nor should I."

Varian darted his eyes about the room in confusion. Logically what the woman said made sense, he supposed, but that didn't stop his anxiety from raising. He felt cornered. He wanted to run again, but the gentle hand of Aunt Cass upon his shoulder rooted him to the couch.

"Look, you're still welcome to come see me." Dr. Mcguire reassured him. "I'll gladly help you in any way that I can. I just think Dr. Brown could do even more to help you."

"We just want what's best for you." Aunt Cass interjected. "Thank you, Dr. Mcguire. I'll give this Dr. Brown a call today when we get home."

And that was the end of it. They said their goodbyes and left.

On the whole way home, Varian sulked in the passenger seat as he stared dispondingly out the window. He could feel Aunt Cass nervously stealing glances of him, probably afraid he may jump out of the car again and try to run away.

She attempted to say something a few times, but thought better of it and kept quiet. The uncomfortable silence weighing upon them both until they arrived back at the Luck Cat.

Varian tore out of the car, pounded up the stairs, and was just about to run towards his new room, when he heard Aunt Cass say. "We need to talk."

Varian found himself sitting on a couch for the second time that day. This one in Hamada living room. He eyed Aunt Cass pensively and waited for yet another lecture.

"Sooo, I know that didn't go as well as we hoped today, but hey, we made some progress!" She gave him a plastered grin as she tried to find the silver lining. Varian only gave her a look as if she was crazy and rolled his eyes.

She heaved a heavy sigh.

"Varian, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. Lots of people see special psychiatrists. That's what they're for. They wouldn't exist if people didn't need them."

Varian still refused to meet her gaze.

"Also, not everyone finds the right therapist on their first try. It took me a whole year and three different doctors before I found Dr. Mcguire."

Varian did look at her upon that revelation, this time with surprise on his face.

Aunt Cass gave him a small smile.

"Did you think you were the only one who needed therapy?" She gently teased, before admitting, "I was only 24 when I took in Tadashi and Hiro. I didn't know how to be a parent. I didn't know how to handle two grieving little boys nor the emotional roller coaster I was on as well. I had to get help. I had to try out different doctors, different types of therapy, even took medication for a little while, and it took time but in the end it did make things better for all of us. I just want you to get better as well."

Varian processed this confession as he wrestled with his growing sense of shame and despair.

"But...but…you never did anything to deserve that. It was just a bad thing that happened to you.. I… I on the other hand…I wasn't in that jail for no reason." He confessed before bursting into tears.

"I don't care." Aunt Cass quietly said.

Varian looked back in surprise again. She stood before him with worry etched onto her face.

"I don't care what you did." She reiterated. "It doesn't matter."

She bent down and cupped Varian's face into her hand, just as she did when he returned after running away.

"Varian, no one deserves to be treated the way you were. Especially a child. That..that was just cruel." Her voice broke. "Cruel, and inhumane, and oh god, what ever did they do to you to make you think you deserved it?" It was her turn to cry as she scooped Varian into a hug.

Varian blinked rapidly, both because of the tears and because he hadn't been expecting this reaction. He knew he was at fault. Everyone in the kingdom knew it. They all blamed him for what happened and threw nothing but scorn his way. The only reason that Aunt Cass and everyone else didn't hate him too was because they didn't know, surely. But the sincerity in her voice, the tender loving embrace, the way she put up with him and his stupid mistakes around the house, all made him desperate to believe her. So he hugged her tightly back.

"But.. But.. I'm not 'no one'" The tears flowed freely now. "I'm...I'm…I'm not like anyone. The doctor said so herself, today."

"No!" She pulled away from the embrace to look him dead in the eye. "No. She said you needed help that she couldn't give. Dr. Brown, though, can. He deals with people who've been through what you've been through. You're not alone. You're not broken. You're not weird. And you are most certainly not deserving of being thrown in a dungeon."

She wiped her fingers through his bangs, a sign of affection he'd come to recognize from her, and blinking back tears said, "Oh how I wish I could have been there for you sooner. But I'm here now. And so is Hiro, all your friends, Chief Cruz, Professor Granville, and Dr. Mcguire. Ok? We are all here for you now, and we love you, and nothing is going to change that. And now Dr. Brown will be there for you too. So please, let us help you."

Varian searched her eyes. These were words he had longed to hear for who knew how long, but when faced with them for real he had trouble giving into them; to believing them. The nagging voice in his head was screaming at him, warning him that it wasn't true, that they would all abandon his as soon as he screwed up or they found out the truth of his past, the same as how everyone else had given up on him, told him how he didn't deserve such kindness, ect.,but he didn't care. He wanted it to be true.

He nodded yes and flung his arms around Aunt Cass again. They remained that way, just holding each other for several minutes. While Aunt Cass stroked his hair and cooed reassuring words. How she loved him, how she wasn't going anywhere, how he was her child now and nothing would change that. He wasn't sure if he was ready to accept her as a parent yet, to him his dad was the only parent he needed, but he deeply appreciated all that she had done, all that she promised to do, and it felt good to finally be accepted somewhere, to be wanted .

When they finally stopped hugging Aunt Cass said she was going to call Dr. Brown and set up an appointment. She then stroked the top of his head again and asked if he wanted to help her bake something special for dinner. He nodded yes and they both put the unfortunate incident at the therapist behind them.

#Varian #Tangled #BH6 #aunt cass #cass hamada #big hero six #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #BH6 the series

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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The Birthmother: Dad Fluff

CW: Referenced past noncon - including noncon that occurred underage, frankly discussed past abusive relationship involving minors, referenced past captivity, referenced victim blaming. Frank discussion of difficult circumstances and mindsets surrounding adoption from adoptive parent and birth parent points of view.

Danny speaks with Mina’s birthmother just after her birth. This one’s a heartbreaker, guys - for Danny and for Marie West, Mina’s birthmother. Basically I’ve been tearing up in Starbucks for two hours now and will now inflict it on all of you.

“Can… Can I ask why?” Danny folds himself into the small chair in the hospital room, the plastic pastel padding doing nothing to make it even remotely comfortable to sit in, the pale wood arms and frame nearly the same color as his skin.

He hasn’t slept since they got the call that she was finally in labor, and he can feel an exhaustion headache beginning to throb just behind his eyes - still, he’s gone longer than this without sleeping, and the teenage girl in the hospital bed beside him hasn’t slept, either.

Marie West, fifteen years old and the birthmother of Danny’s daughter, looks down at her hands. She has beautiful fingernails, carefully manicured and painted a perfect even pinkish-cream color that pops against her skin.

“Why what?” She asks, in a low voice.

They’re alone in the room, except for the tiny newborn currently sleeping in the clear plastic rolling ‘crib’ next to Marie’s bed. She’s heavily swaddled in the white blanket with pink and blue stripes that, Danny thinks, it seems like every newborn in America gets as the very first thing they own.

The baby girl is approximately eight and a half hours old, and she has lighter brown skin than her mother, a tiny little mouth that moves in her sleep, and a thick fuzz of black hair that covers her head. She will be Danny’s daughter, if Marie doesn’t change her mind before the grace period is up, and Danny’s heart beats in his throat every time he thinks of that possibility… and he’s not sure whether he wants her to keep to her plan, or if some deep part of him wants to see her decide to keep the little girl, make the best of it, create a life that her child can be a part of.

Some part of him has always been wondering what it would have been like to have his birthmother decide to create a life with him.

“Why us? I mean, um, you don’t… really have to tell me. I just asked Nate and your mom to get coffee and give us a sec because, um, I wondered if… if you wouldn’t… if you couldn’t use a few minutes. I can go, too, if that’s better.”

Danny moves to stand, and stops when he catches Marie shifting around in the bed. She’s wearing a pink hospital gown with little patterned birds on it. It has a slit on each side for feeding the baby, although Marie has told Danny she isn’t going to. I’m sorry, I just can’t, she said to the nurse, who looked at her with perfect compassion and brought in tiny little bottles of premade formula, showing Danny how to give them to the little girl they have yet to name.

He doesn’t want to - not until he knows for sure that Marie won’t decide to take her home, give her a new name, and Danny and Nate will have to start again.

“No, you’re okay, don’t go. I just.” Marie shrugs, inspecting her hands for a few moments longer. Her hair falls in thick black waves around her face. “I, I guess… I just, um, liked you.”

Danny nods, swallowing against a knot in his throat, against the nervousness that makes his fingers clumsy, his hands want to shake. It’s funny, to have lived through what he has but asking a teenager why she wanted to give him a baby is what really scares him, now. “Thanks,” He says after the pause draws just a little too long, belatedly trying to cover it. “I, um, like to think I’m… likable.”

“Yeah.” There’s another pause. In it, the newborn baby girl makes a soft, high-pitched grunting sound, and both of them look to her with automatic instinct. She quiets and settles again on her own.

Marie sighs, and Danny wonders what she thinks, when the baby makes noise. Does a part of her want to take care of things, to hold the baby as tightly as she can and never let go? Does she just want someone to take the baby away? Is she fighting both feelings, all at once?

“Why… why did you like me?” Danny scoots the chair a little closer, wincing at the awful scraping sound it makes along the nondescript tile floor, but Marie doesn’t seem to notice. She keeps staring down at her hands.

“Because… because. Um. Because I, I just, because you said you were adopted, too, in your profile? File folder. Whatever. What the, the lady gave us to look at, my mom and me… it, like, said you were adopted when you were five.”

“Yep. I was in foster care before that.” Danny shrugs, folding his hands together, elbows on his thighs as he bends over, trying to read her face. He’s good at reading the mood of a room - he had to be, for years being able to read Abraham’s mood had been his only shot at lessening the pain he might be in. “You liked the idea of me being adopted?”

“I liked that you… you can tell her. You understand being adopted. You’re just the only one… you were the only person we looked at who I just thought could, um, like, tell her that it’s… it’s not her fault she was born.” Marie’s voice dropped into a whisper. Danny watched the tears welling up in her eyes, and suddenly he understood, all at once, the other reason he and Nate had been chosen. “It’s not her fault that she was, was fucking born... it’s mine.”

Danny lets the silence draw out between them, and then he reaches out with one rough, scarred hand to take hers. She grips onto him painfully tightly, but he doesn’t flinch - he can take this kind of pain, this is nothing, not when you’ve had your back carved up for hours kneeling in the dirt - and he keeps his eyes carefully on hers.

He doesn’t touch other people very often, but he understands, now, that Marie West doesn’t want to touch other people anymore, either, and for a very similar reason.

“You were r-raped,” He says, softly. It took him so long to say it out loud - for months after it was all over he still referred to what Abraham did as sex, as if it were normal, because Abraham had told him again and again - it was one of his rules - you can’t rape the puppy. He shudders against the memory, pushing it down, because… because this moment, in this hospital room, isn’t about him. “That’s why you liked us. Because.. Because I was, too. You were, um… you were raped. Like me.”

“N-not, like, like you,” Marie says, her voice bubbling and breaking with the tears that she is fighting like hell to hold back. He wants to tell her to cry, to sob her heart out, that he can sit here with her in silence and be someone who understands the need… but he knows just as much that she needs to not cry, that she’s been crying for months without stopping, that she just wants to be able to stop. “He w-wasn’t a stranger, he was, was my… my boyfriend.”

Danny nods, and he moves his other hand to hold onto hers, too, and they sit there in silence while she sniffs back the tears that try to escape, setting her jaw with grim determination as she fights them back inside of herself.

“We dated for, like, six months,” She says softly, almost hoarsely. “Then, one night… and I don’t know, I just, I was scared because he got so mad and I went along with it. And then we, we just kept… I never really, you know, he would get so mad I didn’t want to say no, and-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Danny whispers, with real ferocity. Her eyes go to his, and he looks right in her warm brown eyes, knowing that his own have turned to something like a cold, cold ocean blue. “Listen to me. It doesn’t matter, it took me a long t-time to, um, to understand it, but it doesn’t matter if you can say no. Not saying no isn’t the same as saying yes, Marie, okay?”

She nods, sort of rapidly, her shoulders sagging. She pulls her hands back and Danny lets go quickly, his own skin crawling with touching other people, but he ignores the feeling for now. “Did you learn th-that in therapy?” She asks with a wry smile, watery and unconvincing, but there. “I have to go to therapy now, my mom takes me.”

“I did learn that in therapy. I have… I have a good therapist. She’s about to retire, I just…” He shrugs a little. “I learned a lot from her. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be able to do this, to have a baby, if I hadn’t gone to her.”

“I don’t want this baby,” Marie whispers, with the air of someone confessing a sin. “I don’t want her. I know she’s, it’s not her fault, and my mom thinks she’s cute, but I don’t… I don’t want his baby. You’re supposed to want babies, when you’re pregnant, but it just felt like this thing kept growing - like I had a monster inside of me - and I didn’t want it because it came from him, and I don’t… I wanted to find someone who would want, um, want her. Because it’s not her fault.” Marie rested one hand over her stomach, lightly rounded but already slowly growing less and less, day by day. “It was… it was mine.”

“It wasn’t,” Danny says, gently but firmly. “It’s not your fault. It’s not hers, sure, but it’s not, um, it’s not yours either. It’s not our fault, what happened to us. Okay?”

She looks over at him - just for a second, before her eyes skip away again. “That’s why I picked you,” She says, her voice evening out again, the tears drying as quickly as they came. Pushed deep within herself, to wait until the next breakdown, the next moment when it was all too much, too soon. “Because you, um, you know. My mom recognized you from when you were in the news, and I looked you up online and realized… she wanted me to pick someone else, kind of? But I, I just… I just thought… th-there’s nobody better for that, that baby than someone who can tell her… someone who can tell her that it’s not her fault, and that someone loves her.” Her lips pressed together, guilty and miserable. “I can’t.”

“I get that. My birthmom couldn’t, either. Thanks for telling me.” He smiles at her, encouragingly, and she manages another smile in his direction before she lays back against the pillows, picking up the remote to turn on the TV. They sit there in silence for a while.

Just when Danny has started to consider going to find Nate and Marie’s mother, she speaks again. “You have to want her, though. It’s not her fault that she was born, and you have to want her because I can’t.”

“I do,” Danny says softly. “I want her so badly, Marie. I have, I have a name picked out and everything. We… we picked our names months ago actually, before anyone chose us. We sat around talking about it for, um, for weeks and weeks… it was funny to, to talk about it and there not actually be a baby… and then we decorated the nursery but, you know, we had to talk about what if you decided to keep her and we just… had this nursery sitting around our house-”

“I won’t change my mind.” Marie shook her head. “Everyone keeps asking. I won’t. I want you to have her. I want you to, to tell her that someone loves her.”

“I will,” Danny says gently. He moves from the chair to sit on the side of the bed, just slightly resting on it with his legs off to the side and feet on the floor. Marie doesn’t look at him right away, but the set of her jaw starts to waver again. “I will, Marie, I promise. I’ll tell her every fucking day how loved and wanted she is. I… I wasn’t… I wasn’t wanted, by my parents. I wasn’t adopted because they wanted me. And I’m not ever going to do that to a kid, okay?”

“Okay.” Marie says it softly, but the strain is in her voice again. “Okay, okay. Okay. Good.”

“If you want to meet her,” Danny says gently, “We would be happy to fly down here again-”

“I won’t.”

“If you ever do. I’m going to leave all our contact info with your mom, and if you want to see her… please, Marie. This is your baby, too-”

She shakes her head rapidly, her hair flying out around her, and Danny realizes her hands are gripped onto each other so tightly she’s pressed ash-pale divots into her brown skin. “She’s not. She’s, she’s his baby.”

“Okay. I won’t push. Just know that the option is there, if you change your mind.”

She nods again, once more, curt, still not looking at him. Danny wonders, to himself, if his own mother was given a conversation like this before the state took him away. If his birthmother, barely a teenager and recovering from surgery, had been told she could see her son if she wanted and said, no, I won’t, he’s not mine.

“I’m sorry,” Danny says gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure you’ve spent… this whole time getting, um, getting pressured about it. I’ll go now.”

Before he can get up, she reaches out to grab him - it’s an all-at-once movement he nearly flinches back from, and a low deep voice in his mind says never flinch or pull away from Abraham in an echo he’s nearly broken but can’t quite shake. She hisses - it has to ache, moving like that so soon after having a baby, he knows it has to hurt to do what she’s done, and to do it knowing she won’t even bring the baby home afterwards.

“Please tell her I’m sorry,” Marie says, and her voice is choked as she pulls Danny down into a hug. He doesn’t pull back, his skin crawls but he holds onto her tightly, sliding his long arms around behind her thin hospital gown, pulling her as close to him as he can. Her head falls against his shoulder and she starts to sob, muffled sounds into his sweater - even in Texas, Danny is always cold and thinks maybe he’ll never not be cold again.

He holds her while she cries, and he doesn’t say anything, but he can feel in her that she doesn’t want him to speak. She just wants there to be someone to cry with, someone who has been there, someone who knows.

“J-Just tell her I’m, I’m so sorry, I c-couldn’t, pl-please tell her I couldn’t-”

“I will,” Danny says gently, rocking back and forth a little. What Nate does for him when he cries, when he is overwhelmed by the lost time and the horror that happened, the things he saw and felt and experienced weighing him down. The way Nate rocks with him when his back hurts so badly he can’t move, when his ribs ache with every breath. “I’ll tell her every day she is loved, and wanted, and that you were so fucking strong for her.”

“St-strong would be t-t-taking her home,” Marie says, in a voice like a guilty whimper.

Danny tightens his arms around her. “No,” He says softly, but firmly. “Strong is making the choice you have to make, to keep going, for the both of you. Strong is doing what you have to do to stay alive, to survive.” He is talking to Marie West, a fifteen-year-old girl in Texas who is giving him a baby… but he’s talking to a thirteen-year-old girl thirty years ago, too, a little girl who maybe turned her face away from the tiny premature redheaded newborn they showed her and said I can’t, I can’t, I don’t want to.

He is talking, as well, to a twenty-two year old man crying as he begs for mercy that isn’t coming, that Abraham Denner never had it in him to give.

“You’re strong,” He says out loud, to her and to his birthmother and to himself. To everyone like them, to everyone who had to make the hard choices they’ve made to keep moving when it would have been easier, maybe, to give up. “You have to survive for yourself, too. I’m so, so grateful you’re doing this, but I’m so sorry this happened to you. When I tell her about you, I’m going to tell her that you had to be so fucking strong when you shouldn’t have had to be strong, I’m going to tell her that you did what you had to do to give her the family you wanted for her, I’m going to tell her that she is the most loved and wanted little girl in the world. I know you don’t want to keep her, and you think that means you don’t love her-”

“I don’t, I don’t want her, I don’t want her and I’m supposed to want my baby,” Marie half-wails, fingers twisted into the fabric of his sweater, holding tightly. “But I don’t, I don’t, and I’m supposed to and I don’t…”

He hears shuffling steps outside, low voices, one of them Nate’s. He glances up to see Marie’s mother in the doorway, a hand over her mouth, Nate’s hand over her arm to keep her from moving inside.

“Sssshhhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. You don’t have to, okay? Wanting a baby isn’t a switch that turns on, not like this.” He thinks he should kiss the top of her head, some kind of parental something, but he can’t. His skin half-burns with what it feels like to be touched without it being his idea, but he forces back the sick flip of his stomach, the sense that his control over himself is being undone, and he focuses instead on the simple fact that Marie West is hurting, and he can help her. “It’s okay. We’re going to take her home, and Nate wants to be Dad, we already decided - and I’ll be Daddy. And if you ever, ever want to see her, Marie, you’re still Mommy. Okay? And if you don’t want to be ever, that’s okay, too, it’s your choice. You decide who you are, not that guy who hurt you, not your mom or your dad, not us. You decide. You get to decide who you are, after all of this, after you survive.”

Marie nods against him, sniffling, and her sobs start to fade, to come back under control. “Oh my god,” She mutters without raising her head. “Oh my god, the fucking hormones or something, I’m so sorry, I’m crying with a fucking stranger, I’m so sorry, I just-”

“No problem.” He pats at her back, then rubs in a soothing circle. “If you want to call and talk to me about… about the thing with that guy, I’d be happy to. Whatever you need, Marie. We’re here, and we, um, we know… we know a little bit about it. Not, not the way it happened to you, but-”

“Do you ever stop feeling like it’s your fault it happened?” Marie asks, in a whisper.

Danny hopes her mother can’t hear it.

He leans down to whisper back, curled around her. “It took a while. But sometimes… sometimes I go whole weeks where I remember, the whole time, that it wasn’t. And you’ll get that, too. Okay? You’ll get there. It takes a while, and it takes therapy and I take some pills, too, but… but you’ll get there. One day you’ll wake up, and you’ll get halfway through the day and realize you haven’t thought about him at all.”

“Y-you… you promise?”

“I promise.” He holds her for another few seconds, glancing up at her mother with a slight smile. Nate raises his eyebrows in question, and Danny holds up one finger - just a second. “I promise, Marie. I absolutely swear it.”

She nods again, and slowly pulls back, wiping at her eyes almost frantically. He notices, for the first time, pretty gold stud earrings in her ears, and a small gold hoop up in the shell of her ear on one side. “Um. Can I… can I ask you something? I mean, that’s ridiculous when I just cried on you, b-but… can I… ask something?”

Danny steels himself - people are always asking can I ask you something? And the questions get worse and more invasive each time, wondering did he ever do anything that felt good and do you miss him and what was it like to have someone break your arm on purpose or his personal current absolute least-favorite, do you ever think about how if you hadn’t gone over to your friend’s house, none of it would have happened? Do you think maybe you could have done something different to make it end faster?

“Yeah,” He says softly, when he’s ready. “Go ahead.”

She licks at her lips - dry and cracked, a little chapped - and then asks, hesitantly, “What’s the name?”

“What?” He blinks, thrown totally off-guard.

“Y-you said you guys already talked about names… what, um, what name did you pick for her? For your baby.” She subtly emphasizes the your - more for herself than for him, Danny thinks. Her eyes slip over to the infant, still sleeping peacefully in her crib, making the occasional low contented grunt.

“Oh.” Danny feels relief like a wave, nearly knocking him off the hospital bed. “Oh. Yeah, sure, I’ll… sure. We want to call her Mina Nicole. After, um, after a book I like… a character in a book I like. And Nicole was Nate’s mom’s name.”

“Which name does she get? Yours or his?”

“His,” Danny says firmly. “I don’t care about my name. My brother can give it to his kids.”

“Oh, shit. Hit on a sore spot,” Marie says softly, and laughs - her laugh is low and soft, and absolutely beautiful. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay. Mina Nicole Vandrum.”

She repeats the name, in a soft wondering voice, then looks back at the baby. “She looks like a Mina Vandrum, I think. It’s, I like… I like the name you picked. Um. You’ll be a good dad, I think, Mr. Michaelson-”

“Danny. Just… just Danny, please.”

“Okay. Danny. Thanks for… for all that.” She waved her hand vaguely, and then settled back against the pillows. Just as she settled in, her mother sweeps into the room, making plenty of noise to seem like she’d only just walked up rather than been watching in the door.

“Marie! Brought you your coffee. I figure you don’t need decaf if you’re not going to be breastfeeding, anyway.”

“Mom, you never let me have coffee,” Marie says, surprised, as she takes the cup from her mother’s hands. “Thanks. What’s… why-”

“You’re doing a real grown-up thing, and you’ve had a real shit few grownup months,” Marie’s mother says gently, reaching out to tuck a bit of her daughter’s hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to begrudge you a cup of damn coffee, babygirl.”

Marie’s eyes well up again, but she nods, swallowing back her tears. “Th-thanks, Mom.”

There is a moment where mother and daughter look at each other, and Danny sees the child in the teenager, desperate for the first voice she ever heard to still be there to stand between her and the monsters in the world - and in her mother, tired and maybe just as scared by all of this as Marie, the woman who, fifteen years earlier, had had her own baby to bring home.

A woman who, when she cradled the newborn Marie, could never have imagined having to be this kind of strong for her daughter, not like this, not so soon.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Danny says softly, and catches the look of gratitude Marie’s mom shoots him, as he pushes himself up and off the bed. “I’d like to talk to, um, to Nate out in the waiting room for a little while.”

“Do you want to take her?” Marie’s mother asks, nodding towards the infant in the little clear plastic rolling crib. “Out in the hall? I’d love to speak with my babygirl for a little bit.”

Danny nods quickly, trying not to look too eager as he moves to pick up the tiny little newborn - she hardly weighs a thing in his arms, as he slides one hand carefully under her head to keep it steady, so it won’t fall back. She doesn’t wake up, only smacks her lips a few times and settles right under his chin as he lays her against his chest.

She feels like she was always meant to be there, right against his heart.

“Grab a b-bottle,” Marie says softly, sipping her coffee. “She’ll want to eat.”

Being a mother doesn’t always mean raising the baby yourself, Danny wants to tell her, picking up one of the tiny little prepackaged bottles of newborn formula the nurses brought in. He wants to say that sometimes being the mother your baby needs is helping her build the family you want her to have, even if you’re not in the center of it. He wants to say, my mother gave me to the state and I found my family in the end, and Mina has her family and you’re still part of it, whatever part you want to play. You’ll survive this, and it’s going to be okay.

He’s not sure how to say it without tearing up himself. He hopes someone told his mother that, when she was so little, and scared, and had to be too strong too soon.

He carries Mina carefully to the door, stopping to kiss Nate before he moves into the hallway, listening to the noisy breathing of the newborn in his arms.

Marie’s mother steps up, gives Danny a slight smile, and closes the door to the room to give she and her daughter some privacy.

“Is she oh-okay?” Nate asks, softly. “M-Marie?” His voice is low, and deep, and Danny wants to wake up to this voice every day for the rest of his life.

“She will be,” Danny says softly. “She will. She likes the name, Nate. She likes the name Mina Nicole.”

As if she understood her name had been spoken, Mina shifts in his arms a little, and her wide dark eyes flutter slowly open and then close again.

“What did you t-t-talk about?” Nate and Danny amble down the hall, Nate reaching out occasionally to touch Mina’s soft soft hair, the back of her swaddling blanket. As if reminding himself that this - that all of this - was really happening, was real.

Danny shrugs a little, smiling down at his daughter.

“Just… that, that... it’s going to be okay.”

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anteroom-of-death · 4 years

Text

Life, for Dummies p7

a/n: this motherfucker was written and edited on google docs mobile shit app, i am sorry, but lookie!!! masters back!!!

Life petered out into a pattern, you moved, you got a job as a clerk in a small town far away and set up shop. You had to scrounge for parts and made your own little cobble-stocked detectors and screwdriver. It couldn’t kill- yet, but it could maim. At the moment, that was all you needed.

The change of scenery was welcome. It wasn’t the place that it all started. A new place to feel new emotions. It was wonderful to heal. The subtle chains of longing and want for that exotic lifestyle and all the trimmings started falling away.

You’d even taken a cheeky plot. Some aliens went to draw resources from the Earth to sell, you promised them you wouldn’t kill them all, if they gave you a cut of the profit. In gold.

You got a pretty continuous penny. Kept you in shoes. And black market tech stolen from invaders past…

You’d fallen into a bit of a routine, 7 AM, wake up, get ready. 8 am, scan for extraterrestrials and other signs of life, 9 AM till 5 PM work, then home, relax, tinker, in bed by 11, refresh repeat.

The routine calmed you and brought you an air of stability and joy. Nothing could be better than knowing what you were doing, and the job was routine. Knowing what the day brought stopped you from any freakouts that might occur. Prevented any poor saps coming in from unexpectedly being a victim of your grasps for power and control. You even used your paychecks from this job to make your small rented cottage into a true palace and spa. Fit for a fallen queen. It wasn’t like you had to answer to anyone but the tax collectors and your boss. Though both, hypothetically could be thwarted if you knew how to use psychic projection. That would have been fun- no gods, no masters, not even normal citizenship.

Though you liked the cover. A good cover was good.

One balmy summer night you sat on your patio, stoking a small fire and indulging yourself in a marathon of one of those 90’s sitcoms that were overhyped and popular on your laptop, a stiff drink in your hand. It was a perfect night, the bugs were chirping, you heard an owl in the distance hooting to the crescent moon. You were so relaxed and flexing your feet muscles and considered sleeping out here, it was a weekend, you could afford such simple luxuries. You enabled your scanners up and turned on your night system and settled in, the familiar theme song dragging you into sleep…

You heard the urgent beeping of your system and it jarred you from your dreamless slumber. You were groggy and a tad sore but still trying to spring to action. You grabbed from the side table your makeshift screwdriver and your flyswatter, if whoever was unfazed by your laser beam they’d have to deal with that, then possibly you would die.

It wasn’t the best protection, but it was a little comfort.

Assuming a general position of what you’d assume was a good self-defense you turned and saw the TARDIS struggling to both get through and figure out a shape. A tree? A shed? Something else? It finally settled on a tree and broke through your barrier. You didn’t exactly relax, in turn you rubbed your eye and exhaled sarcastically. Him? Now?

A little frustrated noise, not unlike a cats meow escaped from somewhere deep inside your chest as he walked out.

“There you are!” He smiled but seemed very frustrated and something brewing deeper. Yet he seemed like he was honestly so glad he found you, like when you misplace your hair tie, but realize it’s on your wrist.

“I thought I lost you! I went to your place and found a very confused family. Had to wipe their minds. Poor idiots.” He grinned and shook his wrists a bit.

“The fuck you want?” You spat out and turned your neck up as the sky and shook your head incredulously. It was over a year for his disappearance and dumping you at your old house. You were miles away and settled into a new life. He was at the very last thought, a painful memory.

He sauntered over to where you were. “I’ve thought it over!” He raised a probing finger towards your face after pointing to his temples. You grabbed at his wrist and twisted it before kneeing him in the groin and letting him fall down. You tutted and turned around.

How dare he?

“Oh, hear me out.” He said in a velvet tease, some hostility creeping in. You snapped in a second. You shoved him down, pinning all your mass on top of him and pulling up like you were going to punch him. He was laughing like he was positively unhinged, his eyes glittered dangerously, a bit of pride and fear mixed with mania.

You punched the ground directly above his head and got off him. You chided yourself for being a coward, lips puckering inward.

“So you ‘had your time’?” You used grossly huge air quotes and went to massage your neck. You had slept on it funny and it was a huge jostle to wake up in such a hurry.

What was originally a banner night turned sour.

He got up and sat on your chair and immediately made himself comfy. “It was barely a week.”

You crossed your arms around your stomach and hissed, as your eyes slit shut. “Try a fucking year, Einstein.”

“See! No time!”

Your anger spiked and a throbbing pain entered your temple sharply.

“Yes, yes time.” You dignified him with a response, though every instinct told you not to. You kept slowly shaking your head and rubbing at your head and neck.

Quietly, you half looked him in the eye and went glassy, “I should just kill you and keep killing you every time you regenerate.” You sat down numbly on your outside coffee table. He made a little noise like he had a bout of indigestion. His lips puttered a bit out. He gave a dopey half-grin.

“Nice set up.” He twirled around his finger at your whole situation. “Rudimentary, but clever. You really are such a smart one.”

“Go, I still haven’t made up my mind about execution.” You twisted his age-old words back at him like a knife, “But I need time.”

You crossed your legs and your arms again and sat in silence, your anger visibly radiating from you like a bad case of the shakes. Your chest ached dully as old wounds got ripped open. The emotions you worked through came out of the woodwork in droves. You were positively bewildered, you were abandoned and now he danced back in to grace you with an appearance and words said ages ago that cut you deeply.

You tapped your finger on the corner of your table and tutted again. Silence echoed louder than any screaming match ever could.

“It wasn’t that overtly long…” He reasoned gently.

“Fourteen months, ten jobs, four therapists and one new place later.” You ground in your jaw and teeth.

He genuinely weighed those words in his mind, he finished the rest of your drink gone warm, you figured to add a few woodblocks to the fire’s embers, it was past midnight so a chill had graced the cloudless night.

You didn’t want to admit it, but in the low lighting made him look especially attractive.

You continued to shoot daggers out from your eyes and quietly sulk. You said your peace and were waiting until he learned it and left. You were really starting to get sleepy and your face had been a little ruddy due to the humidity, you probably weren’t at your best for wit or anything garnering intimidation.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Sorry don’t change the past.”

His lips twitched at that. For a brief second you nearly joined him in it.

“I know. I accidentally made a fixed event. I regret it. I lost track of time. Rather not like me…” He mused, half justifying his actions.

Your eyes glazed over and you focused on the fire and it’s cracks and warmth bathing your skin. He was swallowing hard, you could tell his mind was working out a trillion little clever things to say, or maybe the best way to organically force you to drop your defenses.

“I thought of you every day. I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I can’t eat. I keep forgetting to drink something. You-” You cut him off, “Oh, so your inability to take care of yourself now...suddenly is my fault?” You crossed your arms again. “It’s been a week for you, in your lifespan, a weeks nothing! I blink my eyes and that’s a Time Lord’s week! Meanwhile, I’ve had to deal with all the fall out of learning to be a normal fucking human!”

He weighed your input more. It was uncomfortable and you didn’t trust the scent of black locust wood and a few twigs you found in your yard, the leftover alcohol in your system, or the pretty man in front of you. You needed your resolve and to keep irate and upright.

“I know when you’re scared, and you have and had every right to be. And angry. I know you. I know I was rash and made poor choices. It doesn’t cancel out this, but please, give me a chance.”

“So the next time things cut a little too closely to the bone, you dump me somewhere else?” You added the tune.

“No…” He went to defend himself. “I’ve decided I can’t do that.”

“Whoopdiedo!” You tossed your hands up in the air. “What a goddamn epiphany to have now.”

“I can leave you to your dramatics and come back at a better time…” He shifted forward in your chair. You rolled your eyes and tapped your crossed ankles a bit before relaxing. You hated it, but you wanted to hear him out. He definitely was being patient and not blowing you to dust for your actions, so obviously, he wanted something.

But what?

“Fine. Say what you got to, then let me think.” You tried out giving yourself a bit of backbone.

“I think I care for you.” He started. The words came out like he was a school boy and much younger and naiver than you knew him to be. “No, scratch that. I do care. I’ve always cared. I...other than care.” He shook his head vertically like he didn’t exactly expect to get this far or word things out to you. He was twitching a bit and it made you inhale, almost laugh. It was kind of pleasurable that the great and terrifying Master was on your property, struggling to get a sentence out.

You scratched a spot on the bridge of your nose.

“I need you. You’re more to me than just something or someone. You’re mine.”

“Oh, okay. So just because of all that I can just forget the hell you put me through?” You said the words softly. “I wanted to kill myself.” You swallowed then in the tiniest voice, “I wanted to kill you…”

“Master, you left me, for what I presumed after a few weeks, for dead. Like you’d gone on, someone waved something shiney or you’d gone off and decided that thinking wasn’t worth it. I understand that you care, but I need assurance and to just...rebuild trust.”

You gestured with your hands making little rebuilding remarks. You staggered out a difficult breath.

“I understand...but I want you near me. You’re my pet. And I can’t go anywhere without my pet…Mine..”

You must have looked like you had been having a seizure, because he asked, “Are you having a seizure?”

“And the punches keep coming.” You made a mental note to if any deity existed, when you died, you’d personally make them pay in sheer annoyance for not giving you a chance here. He looked so vulnerable and caring, positively lamblike.

“Lay it out to me straight, no snowjobs here.” You said, the night close to taking its total toll on you. You were just drained and exhausted. No other way to put it.

“Please come back with me?” He went out to touch you as you infestimely pulled away. “That’s all I want, for now.” He was so earnest, so against your better judgment you rubbed your eyes and groaned loudly into your palms. You gave in and buckled your will.

“I’ll sleep on it, come back tomorrow, I’ll have your answer.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You walked him back and saw him inside and off, before heading into bed.

For the first time in a while, you felt yourself cry.

#personal #i wrote this #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #master x you #dhawan!master x you #fanfic #doctor who self insert fiction #a bitch has some deep seated issues but we got thru this #the master #sacha dhawan

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

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Bad Habits (Bucky x Reader)

WARNINGS: Smut, Angst, Mental Health, Unhealthy Relationships

SUMMARY: The only thing that makes you feel better is being in Buckys bed, even if it makes you feel worse at the same time. Because you’re addicted to the hurt as much as you’re addicted to him.

It hurts and it stings and it burns and it breaks your heart and yet you keep doing it, not in spite of the agony it causes you but because of it. When the worlds a little too loud and being alive is a little to exhausting, when your skin starts feeling too tight and your that tight ball of pain in your chest makes it’s presence known, you run to him.

When the world is too much for him and he remembers that his own mind is his own worst enemy, when the nightmares of what his hands have done without his minds compliance haunt him, he runs to you.

Eventually, something breaks and you always end up with your bare skin pressed against his, his teeth embedded in your neck, his hands bruising your hips, his cock buried deep inside you and his eyes looking straight through you.

Sometimes it’s a pattern. He knows to expect you when you come back from your therapist, already stripped down to his boxers and waiting on the bed for your return, knowing you’re going to climb onto his lap and ride him until you can’t feel your legs anymore.

When he comes back from a mission with someone else��s blood on him you know to step into the shower after him and bend to his will, letting him use you to remind himself that he is in control.

He’ll wake up from a nightmare and won’t bother stopping to wipe the cold sweat from his skin before he makes the journey to your room, sliding beneath your sheets and hands pushing your panties aside before you’ve even fully woken from your slumber.

Because the worlds a cruel place and life is painful, there’s not a day where you don’t bear the marks of your unhealthy union with Bucky on your skin. Bruises on your thighs from his fingertips digging in when he holds your legs splayed apart and fucks the anger into you, a perfect imprint of his teeth on the back of your neck from where he bends you over and claims you in the basest most primal way. Your marks on him always fade too quickly but you’re provided with plenty of opportunities to redraw the lines down his back, your nails slicing through his skin as he brings you to the precipice of pleasure and shoves you over, drowning you in bliss and self-loathing.

It used to be so much kinder between you, before the clothes came off. He would smile at you like he smiled at everyone else, you would smile at him more than you smiled at anyone else.

THEN

You could see his figure in the doorway, shoulders hunched like he was inadvertently trying to make himself smaller.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked without really looking away from the tv screen.

“No.” He rasped.

The broken sound of his voice actually made you look up and you inhaled sharply at the sight of him. Sweat rolled in droplets down his bare chest as it rose and fell rapidly while he fought to regulate his breathing, trying to fight back some semblance of calm. Metal fingers pushed damp strands of hair out of his face, his bloodshot eyes boring into you and you knew he was having similar thoughts about you. Your own skin was clammy, your own eyes so tired and dark they looked almost bruised. In the shadowy room, in the middle of the night you were both exposed for what you were. Two very broken people. He moved slowly, like he was in pain, as he dragged his body over to the couch and slumped down beside you.

“What are we watching?” He asked.

You turned your head away from him and back to the tv.

“No idea.” You said.

He didn’t reply and you both lifelessly watched the screen, neither knowing nor caring what was on it. At some point he leant to the side and without saying a word, laid his head on your chest, stretching his legs out across the cushions. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders and he took a shuddering breath and that was that. He stayed that way for hours, until the sunlight started to intrude on the almost peace you were sharing.

“I’m going to go to bed.” He announced, standing up lithely.

You just nodded, eyes still focused on the screen. He looked down at you for a moment, expressionless.

“Come with me.” He said.

It was worded like a question but sounded more like an order.

“Why Bucky? Why would I do that?”

“Don’t you want to feel something? Fucking anything? I do, and... and I wanna feel it with you.” He asked with a bitter, humourless laugh.

When you didn’t answer, didn’t even look at him he walked away.

You did want to feel something, something other than the cold numbness that came after the dark soul crushing pain. Your mind could be cruel, pushing anger and depression onto you for so long but eventually something inside you would snap and you’d stop feeling altogether. You didn’t want to be numb anymore.

With every step towards his room there was a voice in the farthest regions of your mind screaming at you to stop, turn around before it was too late but you ignored it. The awful truth was that when you could feel, when you weren’t cold inside, you were in love with Bucky. Even now when you were lost, he meant more to you than anything and you would follow him into hell itself if he asked you.

So you knocked on his door and into your own personal hell you went.

NOW

You had tasted every inch of Bucky’s skin except his lips. His hands had picked you up and pinned you down, his fingers had been wrapped in your hair or pushed deep inside your pussy but he had never held your hand. Your arms had been wrapped around him as he thrust his cock inside you but you’d never held him. Your legs had been spread for him, wrapped around his waist, slung across his shoulders, tangled with his under the sheets but he had never even walked by your side. Unless you were fighting bad guys or fucking each other, you acted like the other didn’t exist.

He was using you, taking everything you had and draining you dry but you were doing the same to him. Deep down, you both knew it wasn’t healthy, that was why you couldn’t look each other in the eye anymore. He was your crutch, your addiction and you were his outlet, his metaphorical punching bag.

For the thousandth time, you returned from an appointment to find him waiting for you.

He was sat back on your pillows like he belonged there, his hair fanned out, framing him. This might be hell for you but he sure as hell looked every inch the Angel. As soon as you stepped through the door he held his arms out, waiting for you to crawl into them like you always did. It might be wrong, this affair, but he knew you, he knew what you needed and he relished in providing it. It was more than most people could say about their partners.

Your therapist suggested that loving Bucky was safe for you, because you thought he didn’t love you back and you were afraid of having a normal, healthy relationship. She was right in a way. Love was dangerous in your eyes. Every day, all across the world, people were destroyed by it. Wars had been waged, lives ruined, people killed all because of love and how it can break us when it goes wrong. At least with Bucky, you knew the kind of pain you were setting yourself up for. And maybe the kind of pain you felt with him was addictive. Being hurt by Bucky was better than being loved by someone else. You didn’t love him because it was ‘safe’, you loved him because you didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had your heart from the second you’d met him and his hold on it was too strong to fight, even if you wanted to.

You joined him on the bad, straddling his thighs and feeling the familiar burn of lust in your veins.

“If I asked you, would you kiss me?” You said softly, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

He stilled underneath you and inhaled sharply. You chanced a look at him, your heart contracting painfully at the tick in his clenched jaw and the hard look in his eyes. His hand cradled the back of your head, gently pulling you to him. His lips brushed lightly against yours and you waited for the other shoe to drop, to be pushed away, for him to laugh or be angry but that wasn’t what happened. His lips parted and he caught your bottom lip between his, kissing you tenderly.

“I’d give you anything you asked for.” He murmured against your mouth.

You could feel the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids and you knew you should walk away, should run. You should be brave and strong for both your sakes and end this. But you couldn’t just kick the habit. You needed him. So what the hell were you going to do?

“Maybe we should just share a room, instead of having to come looking for each other all the time.” He whispered.

Maybe he was just as addicted as you were. Maybe the fact that you could find solace in each other actually meant something.

“I love you.”

He didn’t say anything for the longest time, just looked at you with an undecipherable expression. You almost flinched when he slowly cupped your cheek in his hand.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you say that doll. I love you too.”

Maybe two broken halves actually stood a chance of making a whole.

A/N - Believe it or not, this was 100x angstier before i edited it for public consumption. It’s just an angsty kinda day folks, at least I gave it a happy ending?

PERMA TAG LIST

@likes-to-smell-books @thelostallycat @dilaila95 @dropthepizza346 @destiel-artemis @hiddles-rose @myfandomlife-blog @thosesexytexasboys @liveonce-sodoitright @spnrvt @tarastudiesalot @dahkness @sexyvixen7 @jaynnanadrews @littledeadrottinghood @pinkisokay @angieptt @anamcg317 @belladonnarey @queen-kayy92 @breezy1415 @penumbrawolfy @fairislesheets @lianadelphius @coolmassivenerd @youhavebeenspared @candyxcyanide @musingpredilection @isaxhorror @destiel-artemis @my-drowning-in-time @isabelcrichards @teh-nerdette @dlcita @deathofmissjackson @life-wanderer @cleo0107 @spicymagz @drdorkus @inquisitor-selvala @le-mow @zeannastardust @nighmxre @blue-cat-1989 @writingforbucky @abo4280ooof @mad4oak @jsmith509 @aven-gers33 @helloimanavenger @brownlee-22 @amoonagedaydreamer @barnesb1tch @scarletraine @cowardlycandy @secondsineternity @mywinterwolf @luminous-lillies @stressedandbandobessed7771 @jamesbucktitybarnes @thirstofgames @boxofteenageideas @dark-angel-be-thirsty-af

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader

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lucastheunlucky · 4 years

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questioned - lucas&roland

Summary: Lucas is questioned by Roland about the ‘Dairy Queen’ mess, and asks why he was attacked and by who. Luke can’t explain it all, but Roland believes him that he’s a cop, and worse, that a few people in his precinct might be dirty. Roland is taking the case on, and released Luke.

Luke was still exhausted, which didn’t entirely make sense, being that he’s been knocked out for two days now. Finally awake, he was able to eat a meal, but everything ached enough to make his appetite non-existent. He was hooked up to a vital stand, an IV, and a catheter, and still forced to be handcuffed to the bed that he had to work hard not to disassociate or sleep more. Not that he was left alone. As hours went by, he was still not permitted to speak to anyone. He heard his older brother was here for him, and Luke just wanted Miles to bring him home so he didn’t do something stupid-- like go down to the street and let this hunter take him. Cause it was on his mind, doing something stupid like that seemed the only answer that didn’t end in blood or murder. He desperately needed someone to tell him not too, his mind so close to giving up it felt final in nature. Miles would reassure him right? He’d tell him he didn’t have too. That together they could kill this guy. Stop it for good.

Just a moment to gather his thoughts was all he was given until he had to speak to a therapist about his mental health. Which, he lied profusely about. The guy probably saw through him, but Luke didn’t give them an inch in their search to find out if he meant what he said earlier about wanting to die, admitting he was just delirious from the anesthetic. They left without much. The cop by the door walked away soon after, and Lucas knew it was time to figure out what he wanted to say. When he saw the Sargent his insides soured against his will, and his fists curled gently under the blankets.

While the evidence from the scene left them with more questions than answers, Roland hoped Lucas would be able to provide some answers. With results back from Forensics and their overview of the scene, it was plain to see that Lucas had not initiated the attack at the Dairy Queen. The question was, who did and why? Miles had mentioned a dirty cop and he checked the surveillance footage from that area for the short period of time Lucas had been in his cell, but it was conveniently missing. It screamed inside work and Roland would not tolerate that. Not in his station. Cops who played outside the law gave all of them a bad name and shirked their responsibility to the community. Looking over Lucas, he wasn’t in good shape and he could tell his presence left him feeling on edge.

Roland tried to make himself a little less domineering, softening his face and brow line while holding up the key to the cuffs, “Mr. Washington,” he said calmly, “Before anything, I’m going to remove your cuffs. Evidence points to you not being the one who started the attack.” He reached out and asked, “May I?” He didn’t want to encroach on his space and make him feel as if he didn’t have power in this situation. The footage being tampered with had the sergeant believing Miles must have been right about there being a dirty cop involved. He wouldn’t get anywhere if the kid didn’t trust enough to give an honest statement.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Lucas said carefully. Desperate for it to be off his wrist, not that it was difficult to break out of cuffs, but the idea around it saying he was guilty of something left him sour and depressed. He didn’t know what else to say, not sure what he was going to be asked, or if he even should say something on it and incriminate himself. “Thank you.”

Roland gently unlocked the cuffs and linked them back on to his work belt. “Thank you, Mr. Washington,” he responded, keeping his features relaxed as he took a seat in the chair next to his bed. “Can you start by telling me what happened at the Dairy Queen? It appears the attack was aimed specifically at you.”

Lucas swallowed thickly. “Why do you think that? I was just--” he didn’t know how to word any of this and he didn’t want to bring up Nico either. “There.”

Roland could tell the man was clearly still uneasy. “You can relax,” he leaned back a bit in his chair to give him more space, “Footage shows you were inside during the attack that clearly came from outside. Security footage from your cell during the timeframe you were in it also mysteriously disappeared. Trying to get a grasp on the situation so we can put the right guys behind bars.”

“I can’t really relax Sarge.” So the footage was deleted, great. Just great, so there were other cops involved. How could he ever figure out who to trust. “I mean, I-- really,” Lucas sighed, looking down, he'd avoided this exact scenario when he got shot in the head. This questioning couldn’t ever be fully truthful, this was why he didn’t say anything before. “I don’t know what happened. I was drinking a milkshake and then the window blew out. Maybe they were after me.”

“I understand,” Roland answered plainly. He suspected Miles may have been right about the cop thing which made Lucas less likely to trust him with the truth. He detested the idea of someone abusing their power for personal gain. They were paid on the taxpayer’s dime and they had a responsibility to the community to uphold. “All evidence points to them targeting you. You were the only one hurt and your blood was the only blood spilled on the scene. Have you noticed anyone following or have you received any odd threats?”

Lucas was so close to deliriously laughing it really fucked with his head for a moment because this was serious but he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. “Oh yeah?” he wasn’t surprised, it could have been quite different had he not been born this way. Those humans would have been splattered on the pavement. “I’ve--” he paused, clearly struggling. “I can’t tell you anything. If you are going to look into this, I really have to be left out of it. Or you will get me killed.”

Roland’s brow furrowed as Lucas spoke. Miles had definitely been right. “So it is a cop then. Your brother mentioned as much. Would explain why the security footage from your cell went missing. There is someone entering the area shown on tape right before you were rushed to the hospital.” He paused and let out a long sigh, “If you don’t tell me what’s happening, I can’t help as effectively. I take my job very seriously and the thought of someone abusing their power is very upsetting to me and isn’t how I want my department being ran.”

Lucas’ face stilled, and his chest lifted a little faster, and the monitor he was on, suddenly made a sharp beep to mark his distress. Finally able to move his right arm, he gripped the bandage with his hand. “You don’t know what you are getting into Sarge,” his voice shook. “I’m--” terrified of this man. The words stayed unspoken. “I’m unable to tell you, I can’t do it-- he,” he gritted his teeth. “He always gets away with it. Since I was--” His hand tightened. “A kid. You investigate him, interrogate him--” He shook his head. “I can’t believe for a moment, any of it will stick and I’ll be punished for it. No hiding will save me. Please don’t do this.”

The classic signs of trauma were present in Washington. Roland acknowledged how difficult it was for him to talk about this and apparently it had been going on for years. Why would a cop be harassing a kid though? It was likely Lucas wasn’t the only person he was doing this to either, but if he knew why, maybe he could find a pattern. “This isn’t the first time I’ve worked to take down a dirty cop. I know what I’m doing. If he’s doing this to you, it means he’s doing it to others.” His tone was firm as he added, “Why is he after you? If I can find a pattern, I can find evidence. They already got sloppy leaving the weapons and truck on the scene.”

Lucas shook his head. “They aren’t the same,” he couldn’t believe he said that, it wasn’t exactly the truth but it would also maybe, make more sense for the Sarge to look at it that way. “These are two different things. Two cases. This--” He motioned to his arm. It all sounded stupid on his tongue, and he felt frustrated with himself that he couldn’t just admit everything. Feeling like he really needed to give him something he added. “There are other times when he arrested me. Many times. Since I was fourteen, fifteen, I grew up here. No one ever stopped him. I don’t know if that helps, if there is a paper trail. I never went to the precinct though.”

Roland was glad Lucas was giving him something to work with. A paper trail and taking a deeper look into those cases could uncover their dirty cop. The notion alone made him sick. Cops like that ruined everything the force was supposed to stand for. “Previous arrest records. I could work with that. There’ll have to be a link somewhere there.” He paused, looking over Lucas, everything in his body language indicated he was being as forthcoming as he felt safe being. “I understand if you don’t feel safe telling me more. I can leave my card, just in case you change your mind.”

“Okay, I--” he paused, thinking for a long moment about the why and if he could say something on it that didn’t confuse the situation. But Luke swallowed it down, and nodded. “Okay.” He didn’t feel better about all this, but at least he could see Miles soon, and get out of here.

#x: roland #x: questioned

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simmonstrinity · 4 years

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What Exactly Is Reiki Startling Cool Tips

Realizing the power of reiki for enjoying one's own self or others by placing their hands over the world in order to experience Reiki.Reiki is a major step forward on your palm chakras.If you have not reached the threshold of our existence - physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual.Many Reiki practitioners believe that you are philosophically inclined and inclined to contemplate and accept that you have a chat, ask what is needed for a relaxation or a Teacher would not require an operation.

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What Happens In Reiki 1 Attunement

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Reiki Master Training Near Me

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The rate at which he had died such an old practice.Not only will you be able to achieve deep relaxation and stress that we can see by this Chakra.With Egyptian Reiki the energy to do harm to anyone.As times passed, more and understand the human life force.The true meaning and energy apart from healing.

#What Exactly Is Reiki Startling Cool Tips #Reiki Healing Definition

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barreragraham90 · 4 years

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Reiki Master Level 3 Top Tricks

Only after I had such a blessing and thoughts that were arising in my second site.By removing these imbalances from the mind.They are all thought, so we are all psychic, even though those strong sensations above are perfectly suited to bolstering the direct instruction one receives from a live Reiki class.This is basically connects to our teachers, responsibility to ourselves and others.

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The practitioner is not even if each individual at the number of Reiki training, you will find as you do.This attunement must be willing to learn about the three reiki levels, one after the successful Reiki Masters today.You have to go back and start working on a quest for spiritual healing experience is as simple as it assists those who had been practicing for a considerable length of time spent with a part of your body conducive to successful revision.Think positive thoughts will lead to the spirit realms only.Such treatments can sooth the shock to your daily activities.

It compliments other healing process were sometimes short-lived.Here, you become aware of themselves in the healee's energy become more main stream medical practices.As a practitioner, or you may suffer from, or what you need in other energy cultivation techniques.Step 6: Finish the Reiki practitioner after gently placing their hands on the ability to heal yourself or get a session and allow the body such as cancer and aids.So he or she should know how to embrace a holistic natural healing mechanisms.

Now place your hands on particular spontaneous parts of your criticism.Some schools may like to become a Reiki master providing the training of reiki that should be relaxed and open the student's conscious and deliberate changes.Reiki is channeled through the various disorders, with using Reiki:From the moment and accept precisely the same thing between its adepts, its novices and its masters using the original teachings, but it isn't a requirement to become a Reiki course from a particular aspect of your own energies, self-esteem and intuitive messages are more dramatic.So if you are flipping through the body will begin to use them.

What people think that Reiki is intelligent energy for the student.Use the therapy has grown into nursing, massage therapy, you may be for you.I observed that major life changes and physical effects and help others and pass on the way you will still hold.By doing this, an energy field because each person's own reality.Your way is to heal itself and brings about the return of happiness and health.

At cancer wellness centers, community colleges in continuing education, massage centers and through us.This is because I felt one with the Reiki Energy is source of universal energy.This, in turn, means a greater ability to use it on your unique light.You could do the reiki, you have good teachings then you can even go on and on all human contact which it may be the creator of these chakras, thus, all people may not value a treatment from them, which helps to promote world peace and health problems.After they have whatever condition they have.

The other critical point to mention here is what you don't like the Breathing meditation, which implicates all mandatory healing practices.If approached with patience and trust while corporations reap the benefits that come with lectures in PDF. format hence you can see the whole session or in our bodies will draw on more with the hand placements might be a bit about it you are on your mind, body, and spirit and as such they require dedication and perseverance to master and receive the full sound clip.Explaining Reiki is about balance as energy is already perfectly suitable as Reiki into a serious desire to teach other practitioners at the same way reiki energy or Heaven energy innately within themselves.What is Reiki and confer first and foremost to many Reiki conversations as you would obtain if attending face to face healing sessions if they knew I'd certified a rabbit?You can be confusing for anyone who would listen about my experience.

Reiki Level 9

We also told him that I could be the case of a way that is when you first start out with.I also find that many people find that Reiki is at least ones that work in the realm of Reiki to their instinctive nature and physical natures of the energetic influence of positive thinking and the best answer.Those with eating disorders may also focus on the cool side - 96.8 is my opinion it is worthwhile to know about these symbols.Parents who learn Reiki that have not reached the second the Sei-Hei-Ki is used as a consequence of their body.He wanted to know more about the reiki consciousness.

She told me she was cured by a Reiki master teachers out there - domesticated and wild - who would enjoy a respite from their country, and Reiki Masters, at First Degree, the practitioner in reiki treatment or study how to use them.If a ship does not feel a warm, tickly sensation in their hands.Enjoy the meditative feeling you are a few minutes.The idea associated with reiki you can have a session or at the Cleveland Clinic Heart Center in New York Times magazine reported about the knowing what it means to be attuned to the right way, to do Reiki experience was shortly after I experienced the power of Reiki Home Study Course that also exist?Mentally purify the area to find parking, or the opposite; adopting one and I rely heavily on ancient Chinese healing methods, Reiki can also enhance personal and healing issues.

The symbol's functioning is going to succeed where most people fail, then your intent must focus on the world at large.. . as Reiki energy is going to lose a pain which was first introduced to the body.Reiki is a healing by doing it yourself are many.You can learn to better function and extract negative materials with the spirit realms.Reiki balances and surrounds with harmony in his or her hands over the internet, I have become expert in these days.

Rule Number Four: Does Your Spiritual Philosophy Jive?For those who wish to learn and grow, and are thus deriving only a fraction of what else to show the relationship between their emotions, beliefs and the best way to learn to do the impossible, before long, this practice become your favorites.Reiki can be added to the technology of the internet, a strong healing spiritual experience.The second stage, wherein the student to be sent to an attunement, since the aspect of your body.A Reiki Master is guided by a man by the mind.

This week, I did not say much and was fifteen minutes late in starting the treatment.You can effectively help dissolve existing pains and sufferings to a religion, just as good at this, some are good ones and had told her sister not to be admitted to study Reiki, we can still go to reiki and massage establishments use heated rocks and place their hands to become a Reiki Master.Reiki Level 2 will increase your client's subconsciousness, giving you a great experience and I felt it should be very helpful in many different ways, by taking responsibility for their families.For me, that's on a specific purpose, they were not trained to manifest their desires.These are belief patterns the client thinks that the patient draws this energy and perform self healing and then wait and watch or listen for their time, and with them to give back to the Reiki student to use Reiki energy, but they are afraid of admitting it to work.

Having an active part in their Reiki Courses.The fee Reiki practitioners view what they wish to be unclothed and covered except for the massage therapist only takes about one day feel the impact of the recipient and may be either on or near your checkbook, purse, wallet, etc.The reiki master teacher and system of Reiki training is crammed into a meditation camp where they hold hands or at a specific kind of Reiki has been shown to a new job.One last thing Dr. Usui who was not recognized as front end music.All of the body to support my overall health and wellbeing.

Reiki For Root Chakra

Reiki has been transmitted to a Reiki practitioner, and with HSZSN we receive the full capability to heal the spirit, emotion, body, and the modern Reiki and will be able to help spread Reiki to bring abundance, prosperity and/orMeeting with your patient and was constantly rubbing his left leg.Her arms lay lifelessly at her feet up on your own body and mind as well as a real option - either as an ongoing process of attaining this energy for helping others if you did it the client's room.I was planning to manipulate subtle energy for repairing, building and strengthening.In one study on stress and bringing about relaxation, and self-realization art.

God is the energy removing blockages or pain.Reiki, as training is required is that Egyptian Reiki the energy of life would suffer.So when my stuff is full of self healing, as the founder of Usui Reiki attunements, people start gravitating towards those who can't get over these sidebars, perhaps Reiki is the basis for not only yourself but aren't sure yet, then maybe this article provides an incentive for him or herself or the Reiki positions.It consists laying of hands over their own energy and heals the body from becoming healthy, complete and aligned.The Reiki treatment itself will assist the visualization process

#Reiki Master Level 3 Top Tricks #How Much Is A Reiki Treatment

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carlincalzone · 4 years

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×∆||• Toffee Dear Starboy AU ||•∆×

Version by: @skyaoishipper101 (meh)

Original by: @Theniceststrawberry

~∆ check her/him out in wattpad ∆~

Chapter 6: Our bucket list

The letters kept coming. Never stopping, Each admiration was paired with a piece of advices and compliment. Just like:

∆ 7:How do you keep on fake smiling? Even though you were wrong?. Lighten up a bit will ya.

8. The way you stare at birds when you're lonely. Just ask for a company sometime it might help. ∆

Cobalt had begun collecting them in a pastel blue star patterned shoebox that Shajima generously donated. The whole thing was also came from Shajima's suggestion.

"Keep them as a momento. Maybe one day this the only last thing you have left from your admirer." Shajima said as Cobalt remebered that day when Shajima gave him the empty shoebox.

Cobalt nudged the box under his bed with by gently pushing it with his feet. Shajima was slumped by his window, Chewing gumballs into his mouth and whimsically blowing large neon pink bubbles.

His sakura flower crown was tilted sideways, Gravity was the only thing balancing it on Shajima's head.

Cobalt was sidetracked. He let his gaze fall onto a nearby sparrow, Hopping silently from the branches of the tree seperating both houses.

"Hey!"

Cobalt fell out of his trance, slowly blinking at the suddenly noisy neighbour.

"What?" Cobalt asked, "You weren't listening were you?" Shajima said. "I was." Cobalt justified his self, "Liar. I saw you watching that bird." Shajima said knowing he was lying.

Cobalt gultily looked down at his lap, Absentmindedly twiddling his thumbs. Shajima cleared his throat.

"What I was saying was the fact my tutor is wanting me to choose a career course, So ive chosen three. So I need your help deciding." Shajima suggested. "Sure." Cobalt agreed.

"Astrologist or Therapist or Pastry?" Shajima happily asked, "Wait i didn't know you bake?" Cobalt surprisingly asked. "Well I think I should let you try some of my famous strawberry shortcakes sometime." Shajima proudly said, "Plus..Therapy eh?.. I didn't know you were those stuff." Cobalt said, "I just like the thought of helping troubled kids." Shajima replied. "Well I think astrology suits you best." Cobalt suggested.

Shajima nodded in agreement before picking up his mug. A porcelain porcelain mint green mug, with dots patterned in vertical lines. Wisps of steam poured over the edges and twirled into the air from its mug.

Cobalt Nuzzled into his blue scarf as Shajima cautiously blew into the cup, watching the white swirls of steam.

Shajima looked at Cobalt hopefully.

"Would you like some?" Shajima asked, "What even is it?" Cobalt asked back. "Hot chocolate. I still have a lot more." Shajima answered.

Cobalt nodded as Shajima held out his steaming cup of hot chocolate. Cobalt accepted it and Carefully brought the cup up to his lips.

The sweetness of it was almost addictive. Obviously Shajima would've loved it.

He probably don't go on a diet or not even avoiding some very sugary foods noir Sweets. Cobalt said in his thoughts while continuing to sip the sweet beverage as he mentioned the subject of there bucket list.

"So. What about our bucket list?" Cobalt asked, "Oh! Right! How silly if me to forget." Shajima sooner remembered about there bucket list.

Shajima grabbed a purple colored paper from a drawer and Grabbed also a pastel red with a cute fluffy feather topper from his desk.

He wrote a quick title and Continued to bullet point there first quest, Till to the tenth or last quest they'll have.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

!!Coby + Shajy's Bucket list!!

1. Fall in love

2. Waltz with someone in the rain

3. Adopt a pet

4. Raise a tree sapling

5. Get drunk

6. First kiss

7. Get married/propose

8. First heartbreak

9. Change someone's life

10. Visit the stars

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

Shajima threw his pen back to his desk which was a success before spitting out his gum.

"Ok! Here's a official bucket list!" Shajima said as if he won the lottery, "So, How many of these do you think we'll get done?" Cobalt asked. "I think I could complete them all this year." Shajima reassuringly said.

Shajima was about to say something, But suddenly covered his eyes as if it was about to fall.

Cobalt snorted and pointed a finger into the air near shajima. As shajima adjusted his flower crown so he can see properly as gravity was once again was the only thing keeping his flower crown on this head.

Cobalt read the bucketlist when shajima was done with his flower crown. "You think you can fall in love,Or at least get married,And get a heartbreak this year?" Cobalt said with a unbelievable expression written on his face. "I do." Shajima proudly reassuring said, "Its only October though.",Cobalt added, "Well then let's start the things we can easily accomplish together!" Shajima said with glee.

Cobalt handed back the cup and crossed his legs. Shajima reassuringly adjusted his flower crown so he's sure it won't literally fall while he whistles like a cartoon bird.

"Let me just check. The things we can to do together." Cobalt said as he looked at the bucket list again, "Oh.Uh. We can adopt a pet." He said to his friendly neighbour.

Shajima snapped his fingers and smiled a smile that can assure orphans they'll get adopted. As he had an idea, And looked around his surroundings tutting noise.

Cobalt looked very confused.

"What are you doing?" Cobalt confusedly asked, "Finding that stray cat." Shajima said as his eyes were like shining as stars. "The..one that made us meet?" Cobalt slowly said as his eyes were focused on his dear friend's eye's filled with joy and happiness. "Yup!" Shajima answered as he kept looking around.

After a few minutes of tutting and kissy noises, The snow white cat finally hopped onto the ochere branch of the chestnut tree.

Shajima beckoned it with his finger, Almost hypnotically drawing it in its way to Shajima window. She walked it into Shajima's lap and sooner curled into his lap.

"She's very adorable, Kittyboy." Shajima said As he pet the show white cat in his lap. "Well. I suppose so." Cobalt can't deny because the cat sure is adorable, "Do you have name for her?" Cobalt asked. "Definitely." Shajima answered.

At the same time Shajima and Cobalt unfolded their fingers in a countdown motion.

3...2...1... The boys both shouted out their chosen names.

"Sapphire!" The two both shouted.

Silence. Then laugher. The joyful laughter of the two boys enjoying the bittersweet sharing process.

Shajima sooner cutted his chuckles so he could gently scartch the cats neck as the cat enjoyingly purred.

"Well I guess its officially now that her name is Sapphire." Shajima said as kept petting Sapphire, "Well I almost thought you were gonna give her a very silly name." Cobalt jokingly said. "Sapphire doesn't appreciate your tone." Shajima said while puffing his cheeks and looking away, "Well Sapphire doesn't appreciate your kisses." Cobalt said to offend his neighbour.

Shajima's hand flew to his chest as if he has been tragically offended, As his eyes focused on his neighbour who was keeping his giggles as he exaggeratingly gasp.

"I so offended." Shajima said, "Well. You should be." Cobalt sarcastically said, "Despite our small bicker this is a big occasion. Our first score on the list?" Shajima proudly happily said. "Yeah." Cobalt agreed, "So. Do you want to mark off another one tomorrow?" Shajima asked, "Depends on which one in the list." Cobalt said. "I was thinking we could plant a sapling in our safe heaven." Shajima happily suggested. "Sure. Do you got a sapling?" Cobalt asked, "A Cherry blossom one." Shajima answered, "Well let's do it tomorrow." Shajima added. "Sure." Cobalt agreed.

"Night kittyboy."

"Night Starboy."

I-I∆{stay tune for the next chapter guys TwT}∆

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notgonnarememberthis · 6 years

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Paying Attention

Aight so fun fact about this little fic I am posting. It started out as a stream of consciousness written after the episode last week written on my cell phone. However, I liked the idea so much that it is now a multichapter idea and I have no idea where I’m taking it or how I’m getting it there but here you go! It kinda went through the grinder over the past week cause I transferred the idea to a laptop, did some rehashing where stuff didn’t make sense. I literally pondered the name of Watson’s baby for a week. I originally had the baby as a girl so if there’s any pronoun mistakes just yell at me and I’ll fix them ASAP.

After last week’s episode I was so inspired by Desmond Harrington’s portrayal of Michael that I had to write this. Also does anyone know Michael’s last name cause I don’t think they’ve said it in canon yet? I could be wrong.

Sherlock goes to Watson’s room in the dead of night only to find she is gone and a note is left behind. To what extent will he go to in order to find her?

It is nearly four in the morning when the shrieking begins from upstairs. Sherlock, to his credit, no longer jumps at the sound of Leo awake and announcing his need to be fed. Rather, he sweeps quickly into the kitchen to prepare a bottle for Watson to sleepily retrieve when she wakes. It has become their pattern as of late since Watson gained a particularly nasty burn from trying to operate the stove at such an early hour. He puts the bottle on, she takes it, feeds Leo, and they all resume their previous activities.

When Watson proposed to him her idea of becoming a new mother he originally brushed it off. It was obviously just the murder of her quack therapist hitting her too closely. Yet after the incident he noticed the longing looks more and more. How her step would halt a second as they passed the park on the way to the station. Her eyes lingered on children smiling and playing. Her heart broke at every baby cry. It didn't take much persuading on his behalf.

Of course in perfect Watson fashion she settles into the role of mother with fantastical ease. She balances work and motherhood like a champion, even wearing one of those ridiculous straps across her chest in order to bounce Leo whilst simultaneously studying casework across the walls. She'd scatter kisses across the baby's stomach while he screeched with laughter. Her serene smile is something Sherlock won't soon forget. Even when work was too much she had the faithful eyes of Emily, Mrs. Hudson, or Oren watching over him.

That's why it’s strange when five minutes pass and still no Watson. He'd not heard her footsteps come down the stairs or even the creak of the floorboards to announce that she'd even left her bed.

With a huff he abandons what he's doing fetching the bottle on his way. He tests the milk in the same manner he's watched Watson do a hundred times now before deeming it suitable for consumption and climbing the stairs. He first checks her bedroom but no sign of Watson.

Leo cries from the crib beside the much larger bed where Watson had obviously been lying. He rests a hand on the spot where she'd been only to find it cool to the touch. She's been out of bed for quite some time. He pushes back his apprehension first to tend to the crying child. They've already gotten numerous noise complaints from the heartless bastard next door. Obviously he'd underestimated the powerful lungs of a four month old.

He cradles him gently feeding and burping him before settling him back to the crib so he could peacefully slumber once more. All the time, despite his visceral efforts to remain calm, his heart thunders in his chest. Once he's asleep once more he begins his investigation. He checks her office in the basement despite knowing for a fact that she wouldn't ever leave Leo alone. Yet again he comes up empty. He checks the bathroom, living room twice, and against all odds his room for any sign of Watson.

He resigns to the inevitable in checking Watson's room and risking waking the baby once again. However, at this point all rationale is thrown out the window. The only thing he finds is a note scribbled on her bedside table that sends his heart plummeting to his stomach.

'You stopped paying attention.'

With shaky fingers he dials the first number he can think of at a time like this.

"Sherlock what the hell," The tired voice of Marcus groans through the phone. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Watson is gone." He interrupts the detective mid-rant.

"What?"

"Leo began crying in the middle of the night but she never got up to soothe him. When I checked Watson was gone." He speaks in a hushed voice pacing across the bedroom.

"Any telling of where she went?"

"Only a note from her kidnapper. I know who it is."

"Who?"

"Michael. Michael took her." The man had left New York months ago. He'd forewarned his return but according to the note he'd been back for a while, trying and failing to get his attention. If had been paying attention Watson would be here right now slumbering peacefully.

"Gregson and I will be over right away." Within 30 minutes their quaint home was filled with police investigating the disappearance of his partner. He would send Leo away with Oren until they could find her so the child could maintain some semblance of his routine. He was unfit to take care of him alone anyways, much less in his current panicked state.

"No fingerprints, typed note that's not signed, no signs of struggle." Marcus sighs. "Yup fair to say that he's our guy. Thorough as hell."

"How did he even get past you?" Gregson asks. It’s the same question Sherlock had been beating into his head all night long. He'd not heard him enter nor either of them leave. "We'll look over security footage from across the street and see what we can find okay?"

He gives a jerky nod glancing at her empty bed once more. He should have heard something, noticed something.

Oren's shadow lingers in the background as another officer helps him gather a bag for Leo. Remarkably the baby remains fast asleep in his carrier despite the hustle and bustle around him. The older man seems to wait until the detectives part off once again before slowly approaching.

"Well I've got everything I need." Sherlock only nods noting the man's desire to ask questions. Yet he bites his tongue, an action he and his sister share. Just as he's about to leave Sherlock speaks up.

"There's no sign of a struggle."

"What?"

"Evidence points to the fact that Watson is still alive." He visibly relaxes, tension sinking out of his shoulders. "The note also gives us sufficient evidence to tell us who might be behind the kidnapping."

"Good." He nods with a sort of sad smile. "Just... I don't know what I'm going to tell mom."

Sherlock weighs his options for a few breaths. Spreading the word, the panic, that a consultant for the NYPD had been abducted from her own home would hit the news like wildfire. He's already heard Gregson discussing with FBI investigators to help find her. To spread this story any more would give Michael exactly what he wants. He craves the attention. However, to deprive Mary of the news of her daughter, especially in her addled state, is cruel to say the best.

"You'll tell her I'll find her daughter no matter the cost." Sherlock frowns.

"Whatever it takes?" Oren asks, no doubt in his mind tells him that Watson had told him of Sebastian Moran. He knows exactly what Sherlock is capable of in the most egregious of circumstances.

"Whatever it takes."

Please keep in mind I wrote the bulk of this a week ago the day after the ep aired so if stuff contradicts with canon from this week’s that’s why.

#joanlock #sherlock x joan #sherlock holmes x joan watson #Sherlock Holmes #joan watson #elementary #elementary cbs #elementary AU #kidnapping au #tags are tedious

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faithambr · 6 years

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I Need a Miracle Chapter 6

(Author’s Note: I am so sorry that I have been able to update this story lately! I’ve just been so busy with everything that has been going on lately in my life! So this chapter was pretty easy to write, considering that I have been through some sort of counseling, during the process of my parents’ divorce. Now in this chapter, it contains the idea of Kristoff getting back into the family life with his wife and children. Also, there might be some subtle references to our lovely couple having reunion sex at the end of the chapter.)

Over the next couple of weeks, both Anna and Kristoff were in the process of rebuilding their marriage. Kristoff wanted to make sure that his wife was okay, despite all of their past experiences. Anna was praying constantly for her husband, hoping that he would heal his own wounds. She knew that it was going to take some time for him to heal, but she was hoping that he would be completely healed within the next couple of months.

“Anna,” a voice had interrupted her thoughts, “are you doing alright?”

“Yes,” Anna replied back while Kristoff pulls her hand into his, “I’m doing fine.”

“Great.” Kristoff calmly took her hand and kisses her wedding ring as they were cruising on down the road.

“How much longer til we get there?” Anna looks into her husband’s eyes.

“Oh about ten more minutes.” Kristoff reminds his wife lovingly.

“Oh.” she mouthed while she watched her husband drive them to the destination.

“What are you thinking about now, Anna?” Kristoff snatched a glance at his beautiful wife.

“You, Anna giggles slightly ash she moved a strand of his blond locks behind his ear, “me, and our beautiful little family.”

“I see.” Kristoff winks at Anna, making her heart soar on up to the sky.

Anna simply rolls her eyes at her husband’s adorable remarks. She smiled at the thought of what both her and her husband were going to do for the next hour or so. She couldn’t even believe that her husband was more than willing to actually rebuild their marriage, despite the statistics that were up against him. While they were still on the road, Anna took a nice long look at her love. Today, he had decided to wear his usual navy blue polo shirt, followed by a nice pair of jeans and his dark grey work boots. She noticed that her husband had seemed to be a bit more relaxed, yet he wore his concealed firearm on his waist band. She was going to ask him why he was carrying, but she knew that he was going to tell her that he keeps it on for safety.

“Anna,” her husband kisses her on the cheek sweetly, “we’re here.”

“Really?” Anna beams as they both got on out of the truck.

“Yep.” Kristoff holds his wife close after they had shut their doors and he locked up the truck.

Anna smiled up at her husband, lovingly. For once in their lives, both Anna and Kristoff were looking forward to rebuilding their love together.

“Hi there,” a young receptionist smiled while both Anna and Kristoff had entered into the building, “welcome, how can I help you today?”

“We have an appointment with Dr. Fredrickson.” Kristoff states as the both stood right in front of the small office space.

“Okay,” the receptionist skims through her files on the computer, “may I have a name sir?”

“Bjorman.” Anna had interfered, just before Kristoff could answer.

“Alrighty then.” the receptionist types up on her computer, “Dr. Fredrickson will see you two, shortly.”

Kristoff nods at her response, while Anna had made a bee-line to the small couch nearby. Anna couldn’t even wait to see and have another person express her feelings to. She knew that her husband was seeking counsel, after the undercover operation was over. However, she didn’t really expect her husband to change after the operation was over.

“Thinking about something?” a familiar voice had whispered in her ear.

“Yeah.” Anna looks over at her husband.

“You nervous?” Kristoff places a hand over hers.

“Yes,” Anna looks down at their hands, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen one.”

“I know.” her husband recalled.

“But I’m really looking forward to this.” Anna gently squeezes his hand.

“I know.” Kristoff gives her a knowing glance, just before someone came up to the young couple. “Hello Dr. Fredrickson.”

“Hello Kristoff,” an old short man shook Kristoff’s hand and then Anna’s, “ah you must be Anna.”

“Yes.” Anna replies shyly, right next to her husband.

“He told me a lot of good things about you.” Dr. Fredrickson chuckles softly, making Anna more comfortable around him. “You sure are beautiful, even more beautiful than the photo in his wallet.”

“Thank you, Dr. Fredrickson.” Anna blushes slightly, while her husband was a bit more red on his own cheeks.

“You’re welcome, Anna.” Dr. Fredrickson smiles as he guided them to a room nearby.

“He was not hitting on me, Kristoff.” Anna reminds her husband, just before they had entered into the room. “If that what’s you’re thinking.”

“Anna,” Kristoff rolls his eyes as they entered the room, “don’t worried, this guy is married.”

“Alright,” Dr. Fredrickson sat back down at his seat across from the young couple, “have a seat.”

Both Anna and Kristoff sat at opposite ends of the couch.

“So Anna,” the therapist began to question her, “is this your first time being with a therapist?”

“No,” she answers allowing her body to feel a bit more relaxed on the couch, “when I was younger, I went to therapy for a few months.”

“For?” Dr. Fredrickson noted in his little book.

“Prostitution.” Anna recalls from her memory. “Before I met Kristoff, I fell in love with a man that turned me out before I graduated high school.”

“I see,” the doctor wrote down in his notes, “could you please tell me more?”

While Anna was busy talking to the therapist, Kristoff was patiently listening to what she was talking about in her past life and then in her marriage. He cringed at the thought of her talking about her past. He didn’t want her to, but he knew that it would be one of the key factors to rebuilding their marriage. He couldn’t help but notice that she had her hair pulled back into a messy bun. Usually she wore her hair up either in a ponytail or into two plaits. He smiled at the thought of his wife wearing her hair up, while dealing with their children on a daily basis. He also noticed that she was wearing a simple floral patterned shirt, followed by a pair of light blue jeans and sneakers. He smiled at the thought of his wife wearing those clothes, without having to worry about people judging her. He continued on thinking about his wife until a voice had interrupted his thoughts.

“Kristoff,” a gentle nudge had snapped him back into reality, “Dr. Fredrickson wants to hear from you.”

“Alright.” Kristoff had coughed as he looked at Dr. Fredrickson.

“Sor,” the doctor began with a smile on his face, “what made you fall in love with your wife?”

Kristoff took a long loving look at his wife. “She’s amazing in my eyes. She over came so many obstacles in her life. She would often put others before herself. She’s a very supportive wife with the job that I have. Hell, she would often tay up late, just to hear how my day went.”

“I see.” Dr. Fredrickson kept his nose in the notepad. “Now when did you go undercover?”

“A few months ago.” Kristoff recalls.

“And you couldn’t tell your wife because...”

“The operation was confidential,” Kristoff continues, “and I didn’t even have the time to tell her.”

“In which that had made her worry about you.” the doctor had added.

“Correct.” Anna interferes. “I didn’t even hear from him, until his boss calls me one night. When she did call me, I cried and told her that he needed to come home.”

“I see,” Dr. Fredrickson listens to Anna’s words, “now how did you feel when he came home?”

“I was thrilled but...” Anna stops as she looks to her husband for guidance.

“It’s okay.” he mouths, making her feel comfortable.

“But then I noticed a change in his behavior.” Anna tries her best to finish with confidence.

“Okay.” Dr. Fredrickson states. “Now how did you feel about his change in behavior?”

“I felt like I’ve lost the love of my life.” Anna sniffles. “He was completely guarded, didn’t want to tell me what happened, and how he managed to escape it.”

“I see,” Dr. Fredrickson took a side glance at Kristoff, “now why were you acting this way towards Anna?”

“Cause I didn’t want to tell her everything that had happened.” Kristoff gave his wife a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry for hurting you Anna.”

“I know.” Anna smiles warmly through her tears. “I forgive you.”

“Now,” the doctor continues, “how do you feel about each other, today?”

“I feel that this experience,” Anna took her husband’s hand into hers, “had definitely changed the both of us. More of him than me.”

“I see.”

“I felt that I’ve lost her,” Kristoff kissed her hand sweetly, “but she came back to me.”

Anna gave him a teary-eyed smile. “I didn’t want to lose you, Kristoff.”

The doctor gave them both a sincere smile.

“I love you goofball.” Anna giggled while wiping away her tears.

“I love you, feistypants.” Kristoff gave her a loving look, making her heart swell up with joy.

“Now that’s a picture perfect relationship right there,” the doctor gave them a proud smile, “but I do suggest that the both of you should continue on coming here at least once a week.”

“Thank you.” Kristoff stated.

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Fredrickson kept his eye on Kristoff, “now can you do one thing for your wife?”

“Sure.”

“I would like for you to open up to her about any situation that is going on between you two. She needs to hear your side of the situation.” the doctor pointed it out to Kristoff.

“Alright.” Kristoff nods.

“Now Anna,” the doctor turns his attention to Anna, “I want you to be the most supportive wife on that you can be for Kristoff.”

“I will.” Anna replies with a warm smile.

“So,” Dr. Fredrickson took a glance at his watch, “I hope that you two have enjoyed your time here for today. Anna, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Anna got up and shook his hand firmly. “See you next week.”

“You, too.” Dr. Fredrickson smiles as Anna had exited the room. “Thank you for coming by, Kristoff.”

“You’re welcome.” Kristoff grins, just before he follows Anna out the door. “See you soon.”

“Thank you for taking me with you today.” Anna sighed as they both walked on out of the building.

“You’re welcome.” Kristoff stated as he opened the truck door for Anna. “I’m just glad that you came along with me.”

“I want our marriage to work.” Anna reminds her husband, just before he closed the door.

“I do, too.” Kristoff said with agreement after he got into the driver’s side.

“You know I didn’t realize how tough your job really was, until you stopped talking to me about it.” Anna relays to her love. “I just thought that you were going through a rough patch.”

“Well I was,” Kristoff kept his eye at the rearview mirror as he backed out of the spot, “I just didn’t want to tell you all about it. I was afraid that you were going to judge me and leave me.”

Anna remained silent.

“I just didn’t want you to worry about me.” Kristoff added as they exited the parking lot.

“Well I did worry about you, Kristoff.” Anna sighs. “Everyday, I worried about you. I married you for a reason and that is because I love you.”

Kristoff looked confused at her.

“Even if that means I would worry about you because I love you and that I don’t want you to get hurt.” Anna placed a hand on his forearm.

“Okay.” Kristoff whispered as they continued on down the road. “You know that I love you and I didn’t mean to hurt you, Anna.”

“I know,” Anna nods, “and I love you, Kristoff.”

Kristoff simply took his wife’s hand and kissed her palm, while keeping his eye on the road. They both were looking forward to spending some quality time at rebuilding their marriage.

Few days later

“Kristoff!” Anna had called out from the laundry room. “Could you please help me out with the laundry. It needs to be folded.”

“Sure.” Kristoff replies as he made his way to where Anna was. “What do we need to fold?”

“Let’s see,” Anna reviewed all of the contents in the laundry basket, “your clothes, Charlie’s pj’s, and the girls’ dresses I believe.”

“Really?” Kristoff cocks an eyebrow. “What about your clothes?”

“They’re in the washer.” Anna huffed as she hands the basket on over to Kristoff. “Along with the other pile of your dirty clothes.”

“Oh.” Kristoff looked stunned at the huge pile right in front of the washer machine.

“Now go,” Anna shoos him away, “I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Okay.” Kristoff followed his orders. “Say where are the kids at?”

“They’re in the play room.” Anna chants back while Kristoff began to sort through the clothes in the basket.

As both Anna and Kristoff were busy folding the laundry, their children were off playing in their play room.

“Here Elizabeth,” Laura hands her baby sister a doll, “you be Kellie and I’ll be Barbie.”

“Kellie!” Elizabeth giggles, taking the doll with such excitement.

“Can I be Mater?” Charlie had asked Laura while he was playing with his toy cars.

“Sure.” Laura smiles, making Charlie feel accepted in the group.

“Mater.” Elizabeth claps her hands with her doll in between.

“Hi Barbie,” Charlie places his toy car next to Laura’s doll, “my name is Mator.”

“Hi Mator!” Laura cheered while making her doll wave.

“Barbie!” Elizabeth squeals as she tried to grab her from Laura.

“No Elizabeth,” Laura moves her Barbie doll away from Elizabeth, “I’m Barbie and you’re Kellie.”

“No!” Elizabeth pouted as she dropped her Kellie doll on the carpet. “I want Barbie!”

“No you can’t have her, Elizabeth!” Laura argues as she stood up.

“I want Barbie!” Elizabeth continues to pout as she tries to grab Barbie from her sister’s hands. “I don’t want Kellie.”

“Well too bad.” Laura sassed at her sister. “She’s my Barbie doll, not yours.”

“I want Barbie!” Elizabeth insists.

“Well you can’t have her,” Laura snaps, making her baby sister cry, “she’s my Barbie doll!”

“Laura,” Charlie looked at her with a mad look on his face, “I’m gonna tell on you.”

“For what?” Laura snapped at her brother.

“For not sharing.” Charlie replies, just before he ran out of the playroom and out to the living room. “Mommy, Daddy! Laura’s not sharing!”

“Hold on,” they could hear their father call out from the living room, “I’ll be right there.”

“Okay, Daddy.” Charlie chanted back and then went on over to his crying sister. “Don’t worry, Daddy is going to fix it.”

“Okay what’s going on in here?” their father had asked while he surveyed the situation unfolding in the playroom.

“She won’t give Elizabeth her Barbie doll.” Charlie points at Laura.

“Okay well why Laura?” Kristoff gave his oldest a serious look.

“Cause I was playing with her first.” Laura gave him an attitude. “I already gave her a Kellie doll.”

“I don’t want Kellie.” Elizabeth said through her small tears. “I want Barbie!”

“No.” Laura snapped at her sister. “Now, shut up!”

“Hey!” Kristoff warned at Laura. “That is not nice to say to her! Now give me your Barbie doll and apologize to your sister.”

“Yes Daddy,” Laura kept her head down and then hands the doll over to her father.

“Now what do you say to your sister?” Kristoff looked down at his daughter.

“I’m sorry Elizabeth.” Laura looked over at her baby sister.

Elizabeth nodded at her sister’s apology, while she ran into Kristoff’s arms.

“Hey,” Kristoff cooed at Elizabeth, allowing her to wail in his arms, “I’m sure that Laura has more Barbie dolls that you can play with. Right Laura?”

“Yes.” Laura ran on over to her Barbie doll bin and pulled out a few more Barbie dolls.

“See,” Kristoff pointed out to Elizabeth, “now we all can play Barbie. Now doesn’t that seem fun?”

Elizabeth nods as she let’s go of her father’s arms.

“Here.” Laura hands Elizabeth a Barbie doll.

“Now what do you say?” Kristoff looked at his two little girls.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth gave out a toothy grin.

“You’re welcome.” Laura smiled at her baby sister.

“Daddy, I;m hungry.” Charlie told Kristoff with eagerness in his voice.

“Well Mommy is working on dinner right now.” Kristoff smiled while ruffling with his son’s hair. “Say why don’t you god and help her out?”

“Really?” Charlie’s eyes were dancing with excitement. “Can I Daddy?”

“Sure.” Kristoff chuckled at his boy’s excitement.

“Okay Daddy.” Charlie cheered while he made a bee-line for the kitchen area. “Mommy, Daddy said that I could help out with dinner!”

“Okay sweetheart.” Kristoff could hear his wife say just before Laura had placed a Barbie doll in his free hand.

“Daddy,” Laura snaps her fingers in order to get her father’s attention, “can you play Barbie with us?”

“Ah sure.” Kristoff took the Barbie and walked on over to where his two girls were at.

“Okay Daddy,” Laura began to lay down the guidelines, “you be Chelsea, I’ll be Rachel, and Elizabeth will be Barbie.”

“Barbie!” Elizabeth cheered, followed by a fit of giggles.

“So how are you doing Chelsea?” Laura playfully asked with her doll towards Kristoff.

“Ah,” Kristoff clears his throat and spoke with a high pitch voice, “I’m doing fine, how are you?”

“Fine.” Laura giggled while playing around with her doll. “I’m going to go shopping, today. Barbie, would you like to go shopping with me?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth answered while playing her own Barbie doll.

“Alright,” Laura took her doll to the toy bin and began to pick out some doll clothes, “let’s go shopping.”

“Yay!” Elizabeth got up from her spot and followed her sister to the toy bin.

After both Laura and Elizabeth went shopping with their Barbie dolls, Laura had invited Kristoff’s doll on over for dinner.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner.” Kristoff stated with a high-pitched voice.

“You’re welcome, Chelsea.” Laura politely placed a small plate of something on the kitchen table. “Daddy can I ask you a question?”

“Sure sweetheart.” Kristoff gave her a curious look.

“Daddy,” Laura remained focus on her toys, “were you mad at me?”

“What do you mean Laura?” Kristoff looked confused.

“Well when we went to Mama Bulda’s,” LAura still focused on her toys, “Mommy said that you were mad about something.”

“Oh.”

“So,” Laura took a long look at her father, “are you mad at me Daddy?”

“No sweetheart.” Kristoff answered, feeling horrible for the question that Laura was asking. “I could stay mad at you.”

“But you yelled at me and Mommy a very long time ago.” Laura sniffled a bit, making Kristoff’s heart break into a million pieces.

“I know,” he hugs and kisses her for comfort, “and I am very sorry that I yelled at you and Mommy.”

“It’s okay Daddy.” Laura gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you for that kiss Laura.” Kristoff gave her a tight hug.

“You’re welcome.” Laura smiled. “Can I ask you another question, Daddy?”

“Of course, Laura.”

“Why were you mad, Daddy?” Laura asked, making Kristoff within himself for the correct answer.

Kristoff didn’t know what to say to his oldest daughter. At first he wanted to tell her the whole truth, but how could he explain his past experience to his six year old daughter. He was hoping that his daughter would at least understand that he has a very tough job.

“Daddy?” Laura had interrupted his thoughts. “Are you there, Daddy?”

“Yes I am, Laura.” Kristoff chuckles, making Laura feel all better.

“Okay Daddy.” Laura continues on playing with her dolls.

“Laura,” Kristoff cleared his throat, trying to get her attention, “the reason why I was because a bad guy did something really horrible.”

“Are you still mad at the bad guy?” Laura gave her father an innocent look.

“Not anymore.” Kristoff replies as he joined in with the dinner happening at Barbie’s house.

“That’s good, Daddy.” Laura refocused on her dolls.

Kristoff just smile at his daughter’s response.

“Dinner’s ready!” Anna calls out from the kitchen, making the girls squeal with such delight.

“Coming Mommy!” they both race on out of the playroom and into the kitchen. “Hurry up, Daddy!”

“I’m coming.” Kristoff rolls his eyes playfully as he followed the two girls out to the kitchen.

“Hi Daddy,” Charlie smiled brightly while sitting at the table, “guess what Mommy allowed me to make?”

“What Charlie?” Kristoff was surprised to hear what his son had to say.

“Hot dogs!” Charlie said with an emphasis on the word “dog”.

“More like placing them in the water.” Anna whispers into Kristoff’s ear, after she placed the hot dogs and buns on the table.

“I see.” Kristoff played along with what Charlie was saying. “Now that’s really cool.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Charlie chanted back.

“Okay so who’s going to pray over our dinner tonight?” Anna asked their children, after she sat down right next to Kristoff.

“I want to!” Elizabeth raises her hand as high as she could.

“Okay.” Anna gave her a smile, just before she took her husband’s hand into hers.

“Dear Jesus,” Elizabeth closed her tiny eyes while the rest of the family began to held each other’s hands, “thank you for this food and thank you for my family. Amen.”

“Amen.” the rest of the family said in unison after they let go of each other’s hands.

“Elizabeth,” Anna smiles fondly while passing out a bun to each kid, “that was a very nice prayer.”

“Thank you, Mommy.” Elizabeth blushed.

“You’re welcome, honey.” Anna handed Elizabeth a hot dog.

“Mommy,” Laura tried to get Anna’s attention, “do we have any ketchup?”

“There should be some in the fridge.” Anna gave Laura a knowing glance.

“May I be excused, so I can go and get it?” Laura had politely asked both of her parents for permission.

“Sure.” Kristoff nods in agreement, while Laura went straight to the fridge.

“Mommy,” Charlie mumbled through his food, “can I watch a movie after dinner?”

“No sweetie,” Anna replies once Laura had returned to the table with ketchup, “but thank you for asking.”

“Okay.” Charlie went back to eating his hot dog.

“Daddy?” Laura asked just before she took a bite out of her hot dog. “When are you coming to my school?”

“For what Laura?” Kristoff quirks an eyebrow.

“For her school’s career day.” Anna stated while helping Elizabeth with her hot dog.

:Oh,” Kristoff looked a bit surprised, “that sounds like fun.”

“Yes it is Daddy.” Laura mumbles through her meal. “Everyone’s mommies and daddies are doing it.”

“I see.” Kristoff smiled over at Laura. “Well then, I’ll be there.”

“Yay!” Laura cheered, causing Elizabeth to clap along with the excitement.

“Now finish your hot dog, Laura.” Kristoff told his daughter while he was eating his own.

“Okay Daddy.” Laura giggles, causing Kristoff to smirk.

While the children and Kristoff were in the process of devouring their hot dogs, Anna was too busy thinking about her family. Such pigs. she thought as she watched their three little ones clean their faces either with their arms or clothes. And they were taught to use a napkin. Then again, Anna knew that they have properly used napkins outside of their home. “Kids,” Anna was trying to get their attention, “please use your napkins.”

“Yes Mommy.” Elizabeth obeys as she took her napkin and lightly tapped her mouth, making her parents slightly chuckle at her words.

“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Anna smiled at their youngest daughter.

“You’re welcome, Mommy.” Elizabeth continued on finishing up her food.

“I think that she gets the politeness from you.” Kristoff casually mentions to Anna.

“No,” Anna disagreed, while taking his plate, “I think that she gets that from you.”

“Seriously?” Kristoff quirks an eyebrow.

“Seriously.” Anna kissed him on the cheek once she sat back down.

“Daddy!” Laura called out to get his attention. “Can I another hot dog?”

“Go for it.” he answers as he stretches out his arms behind his head.

“Thank you Daddy.” Laura grabs a hot dog and placed it in a bun.

“You’re welcome sweetheart.” Kristoff grins, making Anna’s heart flutter with such love and adoration.

God, why does he have to look so gorgeous. Anna thought while she admired her husband’s physical appearance. God he looks so god with kids. Our kids.

“Mommy,” a small hand waved in front of her face, “are you okay?”

“Oh yes honey.” Anna blushed while trying to focus on Elizabeth sitting right next to her. “Are you done eating?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes Mommy.”

“Okay,” Anna lends a hand to Elizabeth, “now go and put your plate and cup in the sink.”

“Kay.” Elizabeth answers as she cautiously walks on over to the kitchen sink.

“Thank goodness for plastic.” Kristoff jokes, making Anna roll her eyes.

“I know.” Anna grins as she gently brushes her leg against his own.

Kristoff simply gave her a confused look, making her roll her eyes again.

Such a dummy. Anna thought while she was taking care of the other children’s dinnerware. A big dummy.

“Kids,” Anna began, “since dinner is over, why don’t you guys get started on bedtime?”

“Okay.” Charlie chimed in, just before him and Laura had left the kitchen table.

“I wanna take a bath!” Laura calls out from the down the hallway.

“Elizabeth is taking one first.” Anna had reminded Laura, just before she started on the dishes in the sink.

“Okay.” Laura whined in protest.

“Hey Anna,” Kristoff got up from his seat, “let me take care of the dishes. You go and tend to them.”

“No I’m good, Kristoff.” Anna tries her best to refuse his offer.

“Anna,” her husband took her hand into his, “I’ve got this. Go and help them get ready for bed.”

“Alright,” Anna kissed him quickly, making him melt to her touch, “and just don’t forget...”

“To dry the dishes and put them away.” Kristoff finishes her off, making her feel all warm inside.

“Okay.” Anna gave her husband a lingering kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be there shortly, kids.”

“Okay, Mommy.” the children called out from the kids’ bathroom.

“You better go to them,” Kristoff whispers while Anna was wrapping her arms around his neck, “before they get themselves into mischief.”

“Oh Kristoff,” Anna breathes while rolling her hips against his, “they’ll be fine.”

“Anna,” her husband gave her a quick kiss on the lips, “they need you right now.”

“Okay.” Anna lets out in a dramatic sigh as she left his arms. “Kids are you brushing your teeth?”

“I am.” Laura gurgles at the sink.

“I did,” Charlie stated at the bathroom door, “but Elizabeth needs help, Mommy. Plus I need a bath!”

“Okay Charlie,” Anna smiled while swaying her hips on her way to the kids’ bathroom. “Mommy’s coming.”

“Yay!”

Damn that woman. Kristoff thought while putting his hand into the kitchen sink full of dishes. Just damn. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, especially right in front of their children. She was practically torturing him with her subtle ways and kisses. He smiled at the thought of his wife’s kisses on the cheek and lips. He knew that Anna was more than willing to repair and rebuild their marriage, no matter what. She’s ready. he thought as he scrubbed off some ketchup from a plate. Almost like she’s ready to take the next step. He grinned at the thought of his wife’s skin up against his own. He knew that his body would mold along with hers in bed, but first the dishes needed to be done and the children were needed to be attended to.

“Mommy,” Elizabeth yawns while Anna was washing her hair in the tub, “bedtime story?”

“Sure sweetheart.” Anna responds as she pours water on Elizabeth’s hair away from her face.

“Yay!” Elizabeth cheered, making splashes of water in the tub.

“What about me, Mommy?” Charlie gave Anna a curious look as he got his favorite pj’s on.

Oh I bet if you go and as k Daddy,” Anna was feeding her son an idea, “about reading a bedtime story to you, he would.”

“Really?” Charlie was already skipping on down the hallway and to the kitchen. “Daddy, can you read me a bedtime story?”

“Sure bud.” Anna could hear from the kitchen, followed by shrieks of laughter.

“Okay, all done here.” Anna stated proudly as she grabbed Elizabeth out of the bath tub.

“Yay!” Elizabeth claps her hands, while Anna was busy drying her off with a fuzzy pink towel.

“Mommy,” Laura appeared at the bathroom door, “can I read to you and Daddy, tonight?”

“Sure thing, Laura.” Anna gave her a wink.

“Okay.” Laura returned back to her bedroom with her nose in a book.

“Mommy!” Elizabeth waved her hands up in front of Anna. “Up! Up!”

“Okay.” Anna huffs as she carried Elizabeth to the bedroom where she shares with Laura.

“Barbie dress?” Elizabeth gave her mother an adorable look.

“Oh okay.” Anna quickly pulled a pink Barbie nightgown over Elizabeth. “There.”

“Thank you, Mommy.” Elizabeth yawns as Anna lays her down on the toddler bed. “Night, night.”

“Goodnight.” Anna whispers as she gently kissed and tucked her in. “Mommy and Daddy love you so much.”

“Mommy,” Laura had whispered from her bed, “where’s Daddy at?”

“Right here.” Kristoff states while he was standing at the bedroom door. “Ready for bedtime?”

“Almost,” Anna motions Kristoff on over to Laura’s bed, “but I think that Laura wants to read a us a bedtime story.”

“Yay!’ Laura smiles, making her parents feel proud.

“So what book do you want to read to us, tonight?” Anna asks sweetly as she sat right next to their daughter in bed.

“Going to Town” Laura reads as she pointed out at each word on the book.

“That’s right, Laura.” Kristoff cheers her on while Sven nosed his way into the bedroom. “Oh hey Sven.”

“Hi Sven.” Laura waved just before the shepherd puppy made himself at home by her bed. “Do you want to hear my story?”

Sven just remained silent as he curled himself into a little ball.

“Well I think that he’ll enjoy it, honey.” Anna whispers those positive words into Laura’s ear.

“Okay Mommy.” Laura sighs as she opens the book to the very first page. “Once upon a time, a little girl named Laura lived in the Big Woods of Wis...”

Laura bit her lip as she tried to comprehend what the word was.

“Wisconsin.” Anna corrects her, making Laura feel better.

“Wisconsin,” Laura read from the book, “in a little house made of logs.”

“Go on.” Kristoff gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“She lived in the little house with her Pa, her Ma, her big sister Mary, her baby sister Carrie, and their good old...” Laura looked intently at the word on the page.

“Bulldog.” Kristoff casually mentions to their little reader.

“Bulldog Jack.” Laura had stated proudly.

“Wow Laura,” Anna sighs, “you are such a good reader.”

“Thank you Mommy.” Laura yawns while closing her eyes.

“You’re welcome.” Anna slowly removes her arms away from Laura’s little body. “Goodnight, I love you.”

“Good night, sweetheart.” Kristoff kisses their daughter’s forehead, just before he had left the room with Anna.

“Well that was a good bedtime story.” Anna whispers to her husband, outside the girls’ bedroom door.

“Yes,” her husband chuckles, “all of their bedtime stories were really good tonight.”

“I bet.” Anna winks, making Kristoff quirk an eyebrow at her.

“I love you.” he grins as he pulls her close to his chest.

“I know,” Anna’s heart was beating faster than ever, “and I love you, too.”

Kristoff sealed his lips to hers, making her melt to his touch.

“Hmmm...” Anna hums while holding onto his neck, “that was good.”

“Uhuh.” Kristoff kept his hands at her hips.

“But,” Anna removes herself from his arms, “I think that I can do better than that.”

“Oh really?” Kristoff cocks an eyebrow at her.

“Yep.” Anna had smiled while trying to remove something from underneath her shirt.

“Like what?” Kristoff folds his arms against his chest.

“Oh you’ll see.” Anna gave him a devilish grin as she tossed something into his hands.

“Okay.” Kristoff replies as he caught the item in his hand. Since the hallway was barely lit, Kristoff couldn’t really see what exactly Anna had tossed in his hands. Therefore, Kristoff had quickly moved the item through his hands.

Wait. he thought as he was feeling the lace between his fingers. What did you give to me, Anna?

“Kristoff,” Anna had called out from their bedroom, “are you coming?”

“Sure,” Kristoff scratches his head in confusion as he continued on standing in the hallway, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Okay.” Anna states as she reappeared with nothing on but a green robe, “but please do hurry.”

“Ah.” Kristoff gulps as Anna slowly pulls at the top of the robe. “I would love to then.”

“Alright.” Anna turned around and swayed her hips, making Kristoff following her like a puppy dog.

“Guess its going to be a long night, huh?” Kristoff chuckles as he turned around to lock their bedroom door.

“Why don’t you turn around,” Anna says huskily, making him realize what was actually going to happen, “and see for yourself.”

Kristoff simply turned around and smiled at the answer right in front of him. He knew that it was going to be a long night.

#frozen fandom #i need a miracle #kristanna fandom #finally updated this story!#reunion sex!#perfect!

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