Alan Rickman x Plus-size Reader One-shots

Panic & Attack

The lump in her throat swells, her chest getting tighter and tighter. She has to work. Work is the only thing that can take her mind off the incident. She doesn't have time to cry over it. She's never cried over anything so unnerving, why is she getting emotional now?

"I'm fine," she lies while opening the laptop again. 

God, her voice sounds horribly weak. Alan definitely noticed it. She feels like she can't get enough air, like the thermostat is turned up all the way and the walls are closing in. 

Stop thinking about it.Don't think about it.Focus on work.Don't look at Alan.

"Are you positively sure?" Alan stands upright, walking around the counter to stand next to her, his face showing genuine concern. "You're shaking, my dear."

He's gonna notice.Breathe.Don't give it away.

(Y/N) looks down. Her delicate hands are trembling, her knuckles white as she tightly clutches a fountain pen between her fingers.

I cannot tell Alan all of it.He cannot find out.Work.Must focus on work.

"(Y/N)," she jumps as Alan's voice comes from beside her. 

She feels his warm hand press against her forehead, yet he feels so far away. 

Oh, no.Shit.He's gonna find out.Keep.It.Together.

"Do you feel alright? You're sweating like a glassblower's arse. I'll make you some tea."

A pussy like yours sure does smell nice. Here, can I stick it in your hole? She can still feel the man's hand on her clothed mound before she had smacked him in the face with her bag and proceeded to run home. 

She's not sure if she answered Alan's question. The world suddenly tilts on its side, and she can hear the clatter of the pen before she feels herself falling. She feels like she is sinking into drying cement, her muscles and lungs seizing. 

God, (Y/N)...I'm pathetic.Just look at me.Can't stay of trouble, can I?

Alan's muttered swearing sounds miles away. 

As quickly as the darkness conceals her vision, the spots clear and she blinks some of the blurriness away. She can see Alan's face, feel his strong arms around her and the cold kitchen floor beneath her stocking-clad legs. Her head is throbbing terribly, and her stomach is sloshing in nausea, the muscles in her neck tightening in a desperate attempt to not be sick. 

"Easy, darling, easy," Alan encourages, rubbing her back soothingly. "Take some deep breaths for me. Come on."

I'm a let down.Look at me.Reduced to a puddle of panic on the floor.What's Alan gonna think of me this time?

"Can't," she rasps, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She feels like she is on fire, her nerves tingling all the way down to her toes. "I-I c-can't breathe."

'Course I can't breathe.I can't do anything right.BREATHE.If not, Alan's gonna notice how pathetic I am.

"Alright, it's alright," he says in his utterly calm tone of voice, moving his hand to the back of her neck in an attempt to soothe her. 

(Y/N) leans into his chest, trying with all her might to find some semblance of peace within her, but everything is in turmoil. 

Oh, no.Here we go.Now I'm breathing too fast.I can't do anything right.I can't even breathe the right way...

"Come on, darling," she can hear through her hyperventilating, his words hardly audible over the rushing of blood. "Breathe with me, everything will be alright."