#i haven’t been able to get back to sleep and my neck still hurts. i think a bit less bad but it definitely still hurts

[etherrreal]

"if it's with you"

Pairing: todoroki x fem!reader Genre: fluff, very light hurt/comfort if you squint Summary: as pro-heroes, downtime is especially hard to come by. when you and your boyfriend todoroki finally get the weekend off after a few particularly hellish weeks on the job, you’re determined to make the most of it. the universe, however, seems to have other plans— and a twist you never would’ve expected.WC: 9,889 Warnings: pro-hero!au where both todoroki and reader are pros, like one suggestive line buried somewhere, mentions of divorce and past bad relationships, reader has some trust issues and has also been through A Lot but she’s working on it, todoroki being the best bf ever A/N: my first mha fic! and before anyone asks, no i haven’t read the ending 😅 i’ll read it one day but until then, it’s none of my business <3 -Dawn

Your suffering begins, as it so often does, with the best of intentions.

You wake in the comfort of your boyfriend Todoroki’s arms, the two of you tangled together in the sheets of his bed, your back pressed comfortably against his front. The morning’s first rays of sunlight peek in through the gaps in the curtains, casting the entire bedroom in a warm, golden glow.

You smile to yourself, despite the early hour, contented by the simple fact that there will be no alarms going off this morning, no patrols to attend or mission reports to file. For once, there’s nowhere else either of you needs to be except right here, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Today is a special day, after all, the first one both you and Todoroki have had off in ages as a result of your demanding and often impossible schedules as pro-heroes. Unsurprisingly, you planned to spend it and the rest of the upcoming weekend together, determined to make up for all the time you’ve had to spend apart lately.

You shift in his arms, just enough so that you can admire him properly, and find yourself struck —though not for the first time— by how unfairly handsome he is, all mussed up hair and perfect features as he rests peacefully beside you. He’s always been devastatingly attractive, beautiful in a way that leaves people starstruck and enamored, that makes them wonder if he’s even real, and this is just as true of him when he’s asleep as it is when he’s awake.

Even now, you can’t help but stare at him, taking in the pretty curve of his lips, the strong slope of his jaw. He always looks so peaceful when he sleeps; softer, too, and it fills you with both gratitude and satisfaction, knowing you’re the only one who gets to see him like this, all serene and unguarded. It’s a testament to how deeply he trusts you, how much the two of you have grown together since you officially started dating a little over four months ago.

You’re tempted to curl further into him and fall right back asleep, letting yourself share in the warmth and comfort of his embrace in the way you so rarely get to do. That temptation only grows when he makes a sleepy little humming sound and nuzzles his face further into your neck, his lips brushing against your throat, right along your pulse point.

It takes a tremendous amount of effort not to fall back into him after that, but somehow, you’re able to steel yourself against it, knowing that what you’ve planned for today involves you having to leave bed sooner rather than later.

You know better than anyone that Todoroki’s had a pretty rough few weeks, even by pro-hero standards, enduring multiple overnight shifts, extra patrols, and mountains of paperwork he’s gone through great lengths to avoid.

The metaphoric cherry on top of it all was a fight with the escaped villain Mayhem that left him with a dislocated shoulder and you with a concussion that you know he still blames himself for, even though you’re the one who jumped in without thinking, as you are often prone to do.

It’s why you promised yourself, as you packed your bag for his apartment the night before, that you would do everything in your power to make this weekend together the best one yet, spoiling him with the kind of care and affection he so rarely affords himself. And the first step in your best weekend ever plan is to surprise him with breakfast, which is what leads you to slip out of his grasp and into the kitchen as stealthily as you can manage.

It’s far from an easy feat. Todoroki’s a bit of a serial cuddler, especially in the mornings, with an iron grip that latches around your waist and all but crushes you to him. But with a little bit of patience and a lot of maneuvering —plus a small boost from your wind-based quirk— you manage to escape and start on breakfast without waking him, leaving him behind with a fond look and a light kiss on his forehead.

And, to your utter delight, everything turns out pretty well. Amazingly well, in fact— or at least it starts off that way.

You locate almost all of the ingredients and materials you need for breakfast with relative ease, humming a little tune to yourself as you get to work. Soon there are strips of bacon sizzling in the skillet, the griddle you set on the stovetop heating up in preparation for the pancakes you plan to make. The mix itself sits in an All Might-themed bowl on the counter, sweetened with fresh fruit and just a pinch of cinnamon.

All that’s left for you to do is find a separate pan for the eggs, which you quickly spot on the top shelf in the cabinet, just out of your reach. Still, you refuse to let that deter you, climbing up on one of the nearby stools to grab it.

Why, of course, you willingly choose to get up on a stool when you’re a certified pro-hero with an entire wind quirk at your disposal —one that quite literally lets you breeze through your problems— will remain a mystery to you. Looking back, you’d like to think it’s a consequence of you working too hard, but really, the more you think about it, the more convinced you become that it’s really just a consequence of you being an idiot.

You’ve just latched onto the handle of the pan and are starting to bring it down when your foot slips. Immediately, you begin to panic, and it’s like every bit of pro-hero training you’ve received over the years vanishes instantly from your brain, leaving you almost comically off-balance and flailing. All of the instincts you thought you’d honed to perfection fail you at once, and just like that, you’re tumbling off the stool before you can stop yourself.

You land on your ass on the kitchen floor with a distressed and undignified yelp, your foot twisting painfully as you go. The rest of the pots and pans on the shelf follow you down, clattering onto the floor around you in a way you’re certain the entire apartment complex is able to hear.

You lift your hands automatically, shielding yourself with an invisible wall of air that protects you from getting smacked around with a frying pan like you’re some sort of cartoon character. It isn’t much, but it’s the best you can do for now, the rest of your senses distracted by the sudden throbbing in your ankle and the sheer bafflement —not to mention complete mortification— you feel for being in this situation in the first place.

Todoroki is next to you before you’re even able to form a coherent thought, having woken up and rushed into the kitchen after you the moment he heard all the commotion, which, admittedly, was probably loud as hell.

His mismatched eyes are wide with worry as he examines you, the trail of ice you see behind him letting you know that he must’ve used his quirk to get to you as quickly as he could. You think you’d be more touched by it if the majority of your energy wasn’t currently being focused on trying not to die of embarrassment.

“Are you all right, love?” Todoroki asks, voice filled with concern as he helps you sit up into a more comfortable position. “Does anything hurt?”

You shake your head before he even finishes the question, plastering a smile to your face. Your ego may be bruised beyond belief, your pride all but ready to shrivel up into a ball and disappear, but you'll be damned if you let this put a damper on your weekend, especially when it’s barely even begun.

“No, no, everything’s okay. I’m good, really, let me just—”

What’s left of your sentence quickly transforms into a wince, pain flaring in your ankle and shooting up your leg the second you try to stand up and put pressure on it. Todoroki is quick to reach out and steady you, lowering you back to the floor carefully.

“What happened?” He’s both curious and concerned as he lifts your injured foot and sets it gently onto his lap. He places his right hand on your ankle, fingers cool and careful with the iciness of his quirk, providing you with instant relief that has you sighing and squeezing his other hand gratefully. “Don’t tell me you were training on your day off.”

“I wish,” you huff, letting out a humorless laugh. At least then, you’d feel less annoyed about it, having already accepted such injuries as part of the reality of your work as a pro-hero, but nope, no such luck.

Instead, the injury you’re currently suffering is one that was both completely avoidable and partially self-inflicted. Leave it to a common kitchen stool to humble the shit out of you; and so early in the morning, too.

“I was trying to make breakfast before you woke up.” You can’t help pouting over it, heaving a disappointed sigh as your gaze falls to your lap. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, it worked.” Todoroki places a hand beneath your chin to make you look at him, the smile he offers as loving as it is teasing. “Consider me thoroughly surprised.”

You purse your lips, shooting him a flat look that makes him laugh. You can’t stop yourself from softening at the sound, especially when he leans in close and presses a soothing kiss to your forehead, smoothing away the furrow of your brow.

When he pulls away, you’re all but putty in his hands, the pain in your ankle reduced to a mere afterthought in the wake of how gentle he’s being with you now, how attentive he always is to every single one of your needs. You’ve always known he’d make an incredible partner, even before you started dating, and the fact that you’re the one who gets to witness it now never fails to make your heart stutter with glee.

“Come on,” he says, entirely unaware of the effect he has on you, his voice steady and reassuring. “Let’s get you somewhere a little more comfortable.”

His words snap you back to reality, returning your attention to the situation at hand. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he means to carry you, and while normally you’d jump at any chance to have his hands on you, the fact that it’s only happening as a result of your own clumsiness has you feeling a special kind of pathetic that you’re not entirely comfortable with.

It’s why you’re so quick to try to talk him out of it, placing a hand on his chest to stop him— or, at the very least, slow him down.

“I’m fine, Shouto, really,” you insist, waving your free hand back and forth in some vague gesture of reassurance. “You don’t have to—”

Todoroki cuts you off by scooping you into his arms, ignoring your protests about the food you still have cooking and the kitchen being a mess in favor of starting on a path back to his bedroom. Once you’re there, he deposits you safely on his bed with an effortlessness that would normally have you swooning, if only you weren’t so annoyed with yourself right now.

He takes the time to make sure you’re comfortable, fluffing up the pillows behind you and handing you your phone, like he can tell you’re just itching to complain about your misfortune in the group chat. It doesn’t make you feel like any less of a bumbling idiot, but it does temper your irritation for the time being, so much so that you don’t even protest when he excuses himself from the room in search of supplies.

He isn’t gone long, returning only a moment later with a handful of items from his hero duffle. You’re still pouting when he does, glaring at your swollen ankle as if that’ll be enough to make it go back to normal. You sit up when you see him approach, taking note of the first aid kit and the ice pack in his hands.

He takes a seat on the bed beside you and lifts your swollen ankle into his lap. You watch as he turns it back and forth to assess the damage, careful not to injure you any further.

In no time at all, you find yourself utterly transfixed by his movements. Your phone is still in your hand, the screen lit up with a half-typed text to your friends, but right now he’s all you’re interested in looking at, mesmerized by the gentle press of his hands against your skin and the delicate, almost reverent way he handles you.

You’re no stranger to the process of patching up your wounds, having experienced countless injuries over the course of your pro hero career, but what is new for you is letting someone else be responsible for it. You’ve never been good at asking for help, much less allowing yourself to be taken care of, convinced by an ugly voice in the back of your mind that doing so would reveal a weakness you might never recover from.

You like to think you’ve gotten better at it over the years, but old habits die hard. Your hyper-independence has always been a point of contention in your relationships, made worse by partners whose reactions to your vulnerability only served to remind you why you kept it hidden in the first place.

With Todoroki, though, it’s different. Years of friendship before you started dating have ensured that he’s seen you at your worst, probably more times than you would’ve liked. He’s been there for all your bad decisions and all your stupid mistakes, through shitty breakups and even shittier fights with villains— and not once has he ever faltered in his support of you, nor has he let any of it change his opinion of you.

Even now, he’s still taking care of you, and you’re actually letting him, knowing he’s someone you can trust to do so without any fear of appearing weak or less than. You know you’ve been kind of a brat this morning, huffing and puffing as he tends to your injury with all the petulance of a pouting child, but he’s taken it all in stride, soothing away your frustration with gentle hands and even gentler kisses against your wrists and forehead.

You’ve never been one to open your heart so easily, never saw any reason to, but you take one look at Todoroki and you know— you’ve never loved anyone the way you love him.

Not that you’ve ever told him that, of course. You know all too well about the trauma of your boyfriend’s upbringing, just like you know how hard he’s worked to put himself in the headspace of actually pursuing a romantic relationship. It’s why you refuse to be someone who pressures him into exchanging any sort of I love you’s unless you’re sure that’s a step he’s ready to take with you.

And while you’ve certainly done your own fair share of healing and growth when it comes to being vulnerable in your relationships, there’s a part of you that’s still hesitant to say those three words out loud, terrified that everything will go wrong once you do. That he’ll hear them and change his mind, and then he’ll leave, just like your dad did with your mom. Just like everyone does eventually.

It’s an irrational fear, you know, especially with someone like Todoroki, who’s proven time and time again how much he cares for you, how deep his devotion to you truly runs. Unlike your previous partners, he’s given you no reason to doubt him, but try as you might to convince yourself otherwise, the truth of the matter is that you’re not ready to say I love you either. Like you said before, old habits die hard.

Across from you, Todoroki opens the first aid kit and unfurls a set of bandages, distracting you from your thoughts. He uses one hand to lift your foot beneath your calf and the other to wind the bandages around your ankle, each one of his movements careful and practiced.

“It’s not broken,” he tells you, finishing off the wrapping and setting your foot on his thigh, “but it’s definitely sprained. You’ll have to rest and stay off of it until you’re ready to try putting pressure on it again.”

“Well, there go our dinner plans.” You can’t help the disappointed sigh that leaves your lips, meeting his gaze to send him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to trying that new soba place downtown.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He stacks a few pillows by your foot, his voice easy and reassuring as he rests your ankle on the highest one, elevating it. “The restaurant can wait. I’m more concerned about you.”

“You’re choosing me over cold soba?” You pretend to be shocked by it, eyes wide as you place a hand over your heart, though the teasing smile on your face betrays your satisfaction. “Yikes. You must really like me, then, huh?”

“More than you know,” he answers, steady and sincere, without any sort of regard for the effect his words have on you.

He says it calmly, doubtlessly, with the kind of sureness you’ve always admired in him. It’s a habit of his, you’ve learned, to say such romantic things without any sort of hesitation, to speak of his affection for you so bluntly and unapologetically. As if he doesn’t even have to think about it, as if the feelings he has for you are just another fact of life, a truth as natural and easy to him as breathing.

“Besides,” he adds a moment later, as if he isn’t the one responsible for the current fluttering of your heart inside your chest, “there’s always takeout.”

That gets a real laugh out of you, despite the situation. Todoroki returns the gesture with a smile of his own, reaching for the ice pack next and placing it on top of your ankle.

“How’s that feel?”

“My ankle’s definitely sore, but it’s not so bad. My pride, on the other hand, is hanging by a thread. At this point, I’m not sure it’ll ever recover.” You heave a dramatic sigh, slumping against the pillows behind you in defeat. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything that could help with that, would you?”

He pauses to consider it, tilting his head in a way that only serves to make him more adorable. Then he starts to smile to himself, sliding one hand up your leg and using the other to brace himself over your body.

He shifts on the mattress and leans in close, his lips hovering just a few inches away from your own. “I have one idea…”

You wrap your arms around his neck, more than happy to indulge him, your lips meeting in a soft, sweet kiss. He deepens it just for you, tilting his head and moving a hand to cradle your jaw.

You’re both smiling when you break apart for air, all tender and warm as your eyes meet his once more. He cups your face with both hands, and you lean into his touch, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“Feeling better now?”

“Much,” you answer, turning your face to kiss his palm. “But we’ll probably need to try that again. You know, just to make sure it’s actually working. Nothing serious, either, just two, three, maybe twenty more times—”

Todoroki laughs, a light, quiet sound you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing. He presses one kiss to your mouth and another to your forehead, and then he’s standing up, lightly pinching your cheek as he goes.

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” he says, squeezing the hand you lift to swat at him. “Try not to fall off any more stools while I’m gone.”

“Hey!”

You gasp and make an affronted sound, reaching for one of the pillows you’re not already using and launching it directly at his head. He dodges it, of course —figures his hero reflexes are working just fine, unlike yours— and smirks to himself on his way out, while you stick your tongue out at him.

Thankfully, your boyfriend’s wise enough to know better than to test your temper by coming back empty-handed. He appears in the doorway of his bedroom a few minutes later carrying a tray with two plates stacked with pancakes, an iced coffee for you, and a cup of tea for himself.

You perk up immediately, both at the sight of him and the amazing smell coming from the food, though you can’t help the guilt that settles in your chest when you remember that you were the one who wanted to bring him breakfast instead. You’re happy that the two of you are spending time together now, especially after the week you’ve both had, but it’s definitely not the way you imagined it would be.

Not that Todoroki seems to mind it, his lips curled into that fond little smile he only ever gets around you as he walks across the room to join you on the bed. He takes a seat beside you and sets the tray that’s holding everything down on the mattress between you, careful not to spill anything as he makes himself comfortable at your side.

“The bacon was beyond saving,” he announces solemnly, pausing as if he’s giving you time to mourn, “but the pancakes were surprisingly resilient.”

You can’t help but snort at his words. “They weren’t even cooking yet, Sho. It’d be a miracle if they hadn’t made it.”

“The real miracle is that they aren’t on fire. You know my culinary skills are abysmal at best.”

“Oh, come on. They can’t still be that bad. Isn’t Fuyumi teaching you a few recipes?”

“She’s certainly tried to. I’m afraid we never made it past our first lesson. Apparently the way I sauté vegetables is both frightening and destructive.” That makes you laugh, and Todoroki smiles, pleased at the sound, before handing you a fork and knife from the tray. “Thankfully, the pancakes were a lot more forgiving. I was able to get them out of there alive, and I even had time to add your favorite syrup.”

“My hero,” you coo, cutting off a piece of the pancakes from your plate and taking a bite. And though they’re certainly delicious, they do little to distract you from your earlier embarrassment, or from the disappointment you feel at being the reason why your weekend plans have gone down the drain. “I’m glad at least one of us lives up to our job description. After my epic failure in coordination this morning, I should probably suspend my own license.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Todoroki says, nudging your calf with his foot. “It was an accident. It could’ve happened to anyone, and it definitely doesn’t make you any less of a pro. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, especially not around me.”

“I know that, Sho, but it’s not—” You cut yourself off with a sigh, your gaze falling to the plate that rests in your lap. “It’s not just that.”

Being embarrassed is definitely part of it, you know, a feeling you’re sure won’t be going away anytime soon, but right now, more than anything, you feel guilty. When you woke up this morning, you were determined to help him relax and spoil him the way he’s always doing for you, but all you’ve done so far is give him more work. And though you know in your heart that Todoroki is far too kind and understanding to hold such a thing against you, that doesn’t make you feel any less awful about it.

You still aren’t looking at him, but you can hear the concern in his voice when he speaks, patient and considerate as ever. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Sho, it’s just— even though we work together, we barely see each other. And when we do, you’re always taking care of me, you know? This weekend was supposed to be my chance to return the favor, especially with how crazy things have been at the agency lately— but here you are, taking care of me again, all because I went and busted my ankle in the stupidest and most unheroic way ever.”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?” You look up at him just in time to catch the way his eyebrows furrow, his head tilting in confusion as he abandons his breakfast in favor of reaching for your hand. “I like taking care of you. I always have, especially because I know how hard it is for you to let me in the first place.”

“I know you do, baby. And I’m trying to get better at letting you, really, I am, I just—” Another sigh, tinged with both guilt and disappointment, falls from your lips, but you don’t hesitate to let your hand rest in his, winding your fingers together. “I wish I could take care of you even half as well as you’re always taking care of me.”

“Love, you remember all the mission reports I forget to file, you bring me soup whenever I’m sick, and you quite literally save my life on a daily basis,” he says, voice gentle but firm, reassuring in all the ways you didn’t even realize you needed until now. “You take care of me plenty.”

He brings your hand to his lips, and you watch, smitten and starry-eyed, as he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. And just like that, all your doubts and guilt fade away, lost somewhere between the graze of his lips on your skin and the sincerity in his mismatched eyes as they meet yours.

“So forget about returning the favor,” Todoroki continues, squeezing your hand lightly, “because you already have. And I can’t think of anything I’d like more than to keep being the one who gets to take care of you.”

And well, after hearing that, it’s hard to do anything besides kiss him, so you do. You kiss him, gentle and sweet, sweet the way he always is with you, and you hope he can feel the gratitude in it, the affection that’s burrowed its way so deeply inside your chest, it’s a wonder your heart hasn’t burst from it.

“I know,” you murmur against his lips when the two of you pull away for air, “and I—”

Love you, your heart supplies, meaning it. I really, really love you, you want to say, but can’t, the words honest and heavy on the tip of your tongue, held back by memories of past bad relationships and an irrational fear of what will happen if you let yourself be that vulnerable.

“...I want to do the same,” is what you end up telling him instead, safer and not as frightening, but still every bit as true. You place your hand against his cheek and smile at him, even as the voice inside of your heart curses yourself for backing out at the last second. “Always.”

“Always,” Todoroki agrees, returning your smile with one of his own, smooth voice echoing with promise.

The rest of your breakfast is a quiet, peaceful affair. You and Todoroki enjoy both the food and each other’s company as you exchange stories from earlier in the week, content to finally get to talk about something other than work. He tells you about his and Fuyumi’s growing suspicions that Natsuo has a new girlfriend, and you tell him about the gaggle of freakishly large geese you’re pretty sure tried to kill you the last time you flew over the city.

When your plates are empty and your stomachs are full, the two of you spend some time cuddling together in his bed. You pull up your calendar on your phone, wistfully rearranging your itinerary for the weekend now that you only have one good ankle left to work with, while your boyfriend watches from behind you, his chin hooked over your shoulder and his arm draped around your waist.

The reservations you made at the spa are the hardest for you to part with, a woeful sound leaving your lips as you swipe to confirm your cancellation. Thankfully, Todoroki is there to distract you, murmuring a suggestive promise into your ear about giving you a massage that has you sighing for a different reason entirely, his hands gliding along your body and making you feel warm all over.

When you’re comfortable and sated, he excuses himself to clear the dishes and take care of the much-needed cleanup in the kitchen. You try to convince him to stay, insisting that you should be the one cleaning up your own mess, but he refuses to be swayed, slipping away after distracting you with a perfectly timed kiss that’s as romantic as it is conniving.

It isn’t long after he’s left that you find yourself completely bored out of your mind. Scrolling through your phone can only be so entertaining before 8AM, and staring at the ceiling while you wait for Todoroki to come back to you isn’t helping much either.

You FaceTime Bakugou to distract yourself, which is your first mistake. Or maybe your second, if you count the whole spraining your ankle whilst making breakfast thing. But he’s an early riser and also responsible for covering your morning patrol shift, so you take your chances, figuring he’s the most likely of your friends to be awake.

You catch him just as he’s leaving his apartment for the day. He answers the call with a gruff “the hell d’you want?” that you imagine would’ve been more threatening if he hadn’t also picked up on the first ring, betraying his fondness.

You let him pretend to be annoyed with you anyway, thanking him for covering your shift in the most sickeningly sweet voice you can muster and laughing when all he does is roll his eyes and flip you off in response. Then you launch into the story of your own morning, eager to complain about your misfortunate to a set of fresh ears.

When you tell Bakugou what happened with your ankle, he offers no sympathy. Instead, he cackles so hard he drops his phone, and you hang up on him, vowing to yourself that the first thing you’re going to do when you see him is summon a tornado to knock him clean off his ass, childhood friendship be damned.

You FaceTime Midoriya next. He’s entering his apartment when he answers your call, having just finished up the tail end of his overnight patrol shift.

He yawns halfway through his greeting, his hair messy and his cape rumpled, but he doesn’t hang up, nor does he let you end the call once you notice how sleepy he looks. Exhausted as he is, he’s also a really great friend. Your best friend, in fact, one who’s far too kind and caring to ignore you, even if it’s for something silly.

He’s definitely amused when you tell him about your sprained ankle and failed breakfast adventure, but unlike Bakugou the gremlin, he doesn’t laugh at you. Instead, he offers you his sympathy, knowing how much you were looking forward to your weekend off. Still, he urges you to stay positive, convinced you’ll recover sooner than you think.

He lets you vent, too, listening to you with his undivided attention as you complain about finding shoes that’ll fit an ankle brace and having to rearrange your plans, and by the time you’re done, you feel a lot better.

“See, I knew I should’ve called you first. All Katsuki’s annoying ass did was laugh at me for being uncoordinated. ‘Some pro you are, Tempest.’” You do your best impression of Bakugou’s voice, complete with a matching sneer, making Midoriya laugh. “I swear, as soon as my ankle gets better, the first thing I’m going to do is kick his ass.”

“Kacchan means well,” he says. His camera is pointed at the ceiling while he changes out of his hero suit, so you can’t tell if he actually sees you rolling your eyes or not, but you imagine he doesn’t need to, having played the peacemaker between you and Bakugou for most of your life. “I’m sure he was worried about you in his own way.”

“Is that what he calls it? Because I’m pretty sure if we called him right now, he’d still be laughing at me. Jerk.” You shake your head, flashing a hopeful look at the camera as Midoriya, now clad in his pajamas, reappears on your screen. “Promise you’ll super glue his locker shut for me the next time you’re at the agency?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he chuckles, walking into his room with his phone in hand and settling into his bed. His green eyes are cloudy with sleep, but the concern they hold is clear as day he meets your gaze with his own. “You’ve been taking care of your ankle, right?”

“I’ve got an ice pack on it as we speak,” you answer, reassuring him with a playful salute. “I’m elevating it, too. Shouto made sure of it. He’s been taking really good care of me.”

“I figured he would. Speaking of which, has he asked you yet?”

“Asked me what?”

Midoriya’s hand freezes in place where he’s running it through his hair. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other through your phone screens, neither one of you moving. His eyes are wide, and he has that look on his face you’ve only seen a handful of times before, the one he only makes whenever he realizes he’s really screwed up.

None of it is making you feel better, especially not when he drops his hand and blinks like he’s trying to reboot himself.

“Uh...nothing?”

“Nothing, my ass! You can’t just say something like that and not tell me what it is,” you insist, narrowing your eyes at him as threateningly as you can manage over FaceTime. “What do you know? What is he going to ask me?”

“Nothing! R-Really, I— I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“Izuku, I swear to god—”

He hangs up on you.

You’re left to stare at your lock screen with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. You scramble to call him back, infuriated that he would even dare to hang up after dropping a bomb like that on you with no explanation whatsoever.

Predictably, he doesn’t respond. Your calls go unanswered, which means he’s either ignoring you, or he’s dead. And if he’s not dead, then he will be soon, because next time you see him, you’re going to strangle him, Symbol of Peace status be damned.

Your fury lasts only momentarily before transforming into panic when his words really hit you.

Todoroki is going to ask you something? Holy shit, is he going to ask you to marry him? What the fuck? The two of you have never talked about marriage before. You didn’t even think that was something he’d want, and honestly, before him, it wasn’t something you’d ever considered yourself to want, either. Not after your parents’ divorce, and definitely not after your own tragic romantic history.

The two of you have only been dating four months, for crying out loud. Granted, you’ve known each other since high school, but still. He can’t actually want to marry you already.

You know Todoroki’s always been a little slow on the uptake when it comes to social cues and expectations, but this is pushing it, even for him. He literally just witnessed you wiping out in the middle of his kitchen while doing something as mundane and uncomplicated as making breakfast. What part of that horrific performance would make him think you’re marriage material?

Why would he even think you would say yes? You —avoidant, allergic to vulnerability you— ready for something as serious and life-changing as marriage? Yeah, right. And to spring it on you without any sort of discussion first? Without even hearing you say you love him? How could that possibly make any sense to him?

But what else can it be? What else is significant enough of a question that it made Midoriya abandon you like he revealed a horrible secret, like you don’t know where he lives and won’t show up to strangle him for leaving you in the dark like this?

This is too much for you, too early in the morning. Your ankle still hurts and now your head does, too, plus you’re panicking and sitting on the bed of the man who may or may not be on his way back to propose to you right now.

Part of you is tempted to run from it, to avoid any and all attempts at discussing your relationship and pretend that what Midoriya told you doesn’t exist. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time if you did. It’s your go-to strategy in relationships, after all: ignoring the problem until it eventually goes away, if it ever does.

And maybe it’s a testament to how much being with Todoroki has changed you and pushed you to grow, but you don’t actually want to do any of that this time. As stressed as thinking about this has made you, the truth is you don’t want to run from him. You love him, after all, even if your trust issues have made it practically impossible for you to tell him.

The one thing you know for certain is that you have to talk to him about it. You have no idea how you’re going to bring it up, much less how you’re going to navigate the conversation once you do, but sitting here overthinking it is only making your anxiety worse. If you and Todoroki are ever going to have a chance at getting past this, then you’re going to have to stop running and start being honest with him, even if the idea of doing so kind of makes you want to hurl.

Still, you think, if anyone’s worth making yourself vulnerable for, it’s him. It’s always been him.

It’s with that thought in mind that you push yourself to stand, rising from the bed on your one good foot. You take about three steps away from the mattress before deciding that hopping around on one leg makes you feel more ridiculous than serious, which is what you’re trying to be right now. You end up activating your quirk instead, using it to hover above the floor without having to put any pressure on your bad ankle.

It’s at that exact moment that Todoroki decides to return to you, the two of you running into each other just before you can reach the doorway. He sighs when he sees you’re out of bed, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his gaze that lets you know he isn’t at all surprised to find you like this, floating above the ground in the middle of his bedroom.

“And where are you going?” He raises an eyebrow at you, leaning against the doorframe with his hands crossed over his chest. “Off to take your revenge on my poor kitchen stool?”

For the second time today, your words fail you. The whole reason you got up in the first place was to talk to him about everything, but now that he’s here in front of you, you find that you have no idea what to say.

All you can do is give a shaky laugh, fidgeting with your hands before wrapping them around yourself protectively, as if somehow that’ll give you the strength to say what’s on your mind. “Something like that, yeah.”

“I had a feeling you’d get bored and want to start walking again instead of resting,” Todoroki says. “It’s why I went back into my hero duffle and brought you these.” He uncrosses his arms, and that’s when you notice the pair of ankle braces he has tucked away into the crook of his elbow. “I figured at least one of them might fit you.” “Oh,” you mutter, “uh, thanks.”

It’s awkward and unsure, the complete opposite of all your playful and easy banter earlier this morning. If Todoroki notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

He makes his way towards you, and your eyes widen when he reaches for your waist. He wraps his free arm around you and leads you over to the bed, helping you sit back down. You deactivate your quirk and watch as he lifts your injured ankle, carefully propping it back up onto the pillow so you’re comfortable.

It’s sweet, the way he takes care of you, how gentle he always handles you. He’s sweet, and devoted, and protective. He’s taken such good care of you this morning, as he always has, and you know, somehow, that he always will.

And you realize, right then and there, that if there’s anyone you want to be married to, it’s him. Because he’s kind, and he’s gentle, and he’s brave. And more than anything, he’s good. He’s really, truly good, good in the way you never imagined you could deserve, good in a way that makes you think about forever.

And thinking that is just— it’s insane to you, really. Borderline impossible, because you never thought it would happen. After everything you’ve seen, all the shitty breakups you’ve been through —both in your home life and your personal one— you never imagined you’d feel comfortable or safe enough in a relationship to want more, but here you are.

Here you are, tentative but open and growing. Willing to try, with Todoroki.

And what a wonderful place that is to be.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t notice that he’s taken a seat at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. He holds an ankle brace in each hand, offering them for you to take.

“I wasn’t sure which you’d like more, so I brought both—”

“What are you planning to ask me?” you blurt without warning, unable to stop yourself.

Todoroki blinks in surprise, clearly not expecting your outburst. You weren’t expecting it either, honestly —when you decided to have this conversation with him, you really were hoping you’d be able to bring it up a lot more smoothly— but it’s too late to take it back now. And as rushed and awkward as your delivery is, you need to know before you pass out from all the stress.

It takes a few moments for him to understand what you’re talking about, but you see the realization dawning on him slowly, his eyes widening a fraction.

“How did you…” His voice trails off, and then he sighs. “Uraraka told you.”

“Izuku, actually,” you correct sheepishly, biting your lip. “Though, in his defense, he was coming off a night shift and half-asleep when I called him. Not that I should be defending him, anyway, since the bastard hung up on me without telling me what it was. Coward.”

You clear your throat, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Anyway, that’s why I’m asking you now. Whatever it is, I’d like to hear it from you, if you’re still comfortable sharing it.”

He’s silent for a few moments, like he’s considering whether or not he wants to move forward with this. But Todoroki has never been anything but honest with you, so it isn’t long before he lets go of the braces, getting to his feet and moving closer so he can face you properly.

He kneels in front of you by the edge of the bed, and the voice inside your head starts to scream, either in excitement, fear, or some strange combination of both.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he says softly, reaching to take one of your hands in his own. “It was supposed to happen tonight over dinner, when it was just the two of us.”

You don’t say anything, not trusting yourself to speak. He’s definitely not doing much to make you think this is anything besides a marriage proposal.

One of his hands moves to open the drawer in his nightstand, and you nearly have a heart attack right then and there. You swear your whole body jolts, your free hand shooting out and latching onto his shirt to stop him so fast you almost fall off the bed.

He stops reaching for the drawer, his hands going up to your arms to steady you instead.

“Are you all right?” he asks, frowning in concern. “You’re not feeling light-headed, are you? Because if you are, you should lie down—”

“I’m not light-headed, Shouto, I’m in love with you.”

The confession falls from your lips, as most of your words do, before you can stop it. It’s hurried and breathless but also true and sincere, the culmination of four months of rooftop lunch dates and Facetimes between patrols, of comforting touches and lingering glances and all the wanting and affection you’d harbored in the years before that.

It seems to stun him into silence, which is quite honestly your worst nightmare, but you don’t let that deter you. Despite the doubt and irrational fear your past relationships have burdened you with, you know what kind of man Todoroki is. He was your friend long before anything romantic happened between the two of you, and you trust him completely, not just with your life, as you have for years now, but with your heart.

It’s with that thought in mind that you push yourself to continue, taking his hands into your own and intertwining your fingers together while he watches you, wide-eyed and hanging on to every word.

“I think I have been for a while. I just didn’t know how to say it, or if I even wanted to, because honestly, I was afraid to. Not because of you or anything you’ve done, but because of everything else. Because of what happened with my parents and all my shitty exes— and god, I’ve had some really, really shitty exes—”

You shake your head, stopping yourself before that train of thought goes any further, because it’s not the point. The point is that you love him, that you’ve been in love with him this whole time, and you need him to know that before anything else happens.

“What I’m trying to say is that I was scared. I thought that if I told you the truth about how I felt, then things would change, and the thought of putting myself out there only to lose you in the end just— well, it terrified me. But I’m not afraid anymore, because I know you, and I trust you, and I just— I love you, Shouto. I really, really love you. And I don’t expect you to say it back unless you’re ready, but I just—”

Todoroki doesn’t let you finish the rest of your sentence, cutting you off with a kiss that quite literally takes your breath away. He moves his lips against yours with purpose, breathing you in and cradling your face in his hands like you’re something precious, like close will never be close enough, and it’s all you can do to kiss him back, sighing into his mouth and tangling your fingers into his hair.

It’s not the first kiss the two of you have shared, nor will it be the last, but somehow it feels like the most important, the one where you finally stop being afraid and start being honest. The one where you both do.

It feels like too soon when he pulls away, but even then, he doesn’t get very far, drawing back just enough to stare into your eyes. Todoroki looks at you like you hung the moon, like you’re the one thing he’ll never get tired of seeing. He looks at you like he—

“I love you,” he says surely, doubtlessly, without the slightest waver to his voice, and now you’re the one who gets to stare, wide-eyed and hanging on to every word. “I’ve always loved you, even before I knew what that meant. And I understand everything you said about being afraid, because I was, too. All of this is still so new to me, sometimes I’m not sure what to say or what to do, but when it comes to you…”

He lets his voice trail off, moving his hands from your face down to your wrists, and then taking your hands into his own. Your heart soars when he leans down to press a kiss across your knuckles, rising and stuttering with affection where it rests inside your chest.

“You are the one thing I’ve never been unsure about,” he says, and you can tell by the look in his eyes how much he means it.

It’s the kind of confession that steadies you, one that makes all the doubt and uncertainty you felt earlier disappear, until all that’s left behind is the love you have for him, the love you know is returned.

Your eyes are watery, your bottom lip trembling with relief and affection, but still you find it in yourself to make a joke, winding your fingers through his. “Even when I do something ridiculous, like twist my ankle in the lamest way ever?”

Todoroki laughs and squeezes your hand. “Even then,” he promises. “In fact, I happen to love you the most when you’re doing something ridiculous, whether it’s falling off a stool, or jumping into the middle of a fight without a plan, or even telling off one of the biggest reporters in the country despite what it could do to your career.”

“When did I…” It takes you a few seconds to think about it, but eventually you understand what he’s talking about. You blink as the memory resurfaces, images of yourself in a pretty gown, him in a well-fitted suit, and about a million cameras flashing around you replaying in the back of your mind. “You’re talking about the charity gala for the children’s hospital, with that reporter who wouldn’t leave you alone while we were on the red carpet.”

“She kept asking me all those questions about my father and what our relationship was like. I didn’t think it’d ever end.” He strokes the backs of your hands with his thumbs, lips curling into a small, fond smile, as if the memory somehow pleases him. “Then you showed up and chewed her out for being, and I quote, ‘an invasive, insensitive parasite who was more concerned about being on the front page than she was about sick children.’ I thought your manager was going to have an aneurysm when she heard you.”

“She almost did,” you admit with a laugh, recalling the sight of your usually poised manager Misaki staring at you in horror on the other side of the velvet ropes, red-faced and furiously shaking her head in an attempt to get you to stop talking, which of course hadn’t worked. “I had to commit to a month of good behavior and PR deals just to get on her good side again.”

The incident had been all over the news, the reporter you’d offended labeling you an ill-tempered, bad-mannered brat who had no respect for the art of journalism or even her own country. And that, of course, was nothing compared to the field day the rest of the press had with your reaction, speculating on what your actual relationship with Todoroki was, despite the fact that back then, the two of you were still just friends.

Your boyfriend at the time hadn’t appreciated it at all. In fact, he’d hated every second of it, to the point he’d broken up with you as a result, but you never regretted it. You still don’t.

You tell Todoroki as much, brushing a few strands of hair away from his eyes and smiling at him. “It was worth it, you know. You were worth it. And I’ve never regretted it.”

“I know,” he says, returning your smile with one of his own. “And that’s when I realized how important you are to me. I’ve been in love with you ever since.”

“Wait, what?” The confession leaves you floored, eyes widening as you all but gape at him. “Sho, that gala was almost three years ago. You’re telling me you’ve loved me since then? And you didn’t say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure how to,” he admits. “Besides, you were already seeing someone else. And while I certainly didn’t care for him, I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness. But I know now that I want to be the person who makes you happy. I want to be the one who’s there for you and who takes care of you. Always.”

You can’t help the joy that floods your heart at his words, your lips curving into a goofy smile. “Really?”

“Really. That’s why I want to ask you to move in with me.”

It sounds like a metaphorical record scratch. You have to take a moment to make sure you heard him correctly, and even then it still feels like you’ve just been thrown off a cliff.

“Wait, what?”

Todoroki releases your hands to open the drawer of his nightstand. This time, you don’t stop him, letting him reach inside to retrieve what he was looking for earlier.

You hear the jingle of keys before you see them, and sure enough, when he opens his hand, there’s a copy of the keys to his apartment resting in his palm, complete with the matching downstairs alarm and all. And you feel like—

Well, you feel like an idiot, mostly. An irrational, unbelievable idiot who jumps to conclusions and makes stupid assumptions but who is also really, really excited at the idea of getting to wake up with the love of your life every day.

“You were right earlier when you said we haven’t seen each other as much as we should,” Todoroki says, oblivious to both your earlier panic and how hard you’re trying not to laugh at yourself right now. “Our schedules and careers are mostly responsible for that, but having to go back and forth between apartments isn’t helping, either. That’s why I wanted to ask you to move in with me tonight. I even made a whole list of reasons to convince you.”

“Is that so?” You raise an eyebrow at him curiously, taking the keys out of his hand and twirling them around your finger. “Let’s hear them, then.”

“Our agency is closer to here than it is to your place,” he begins, rising from the floor and taking a seat next to you on his bed. “Midoriya and Bakugou are only ten minutes away. There’s a cat cafe on the corner, a plant shop across the street, and you’ve already tried all the local restaurants, so you know what you like and dislike.”

“All very practical reasons.” You move a little closer, and he lifts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders, allowing you to lean against his side. “Go on.”

“You spend more nights here than you do at your apartment. You already have a toothbrush, a place for your clothes, and a cabinet dedicated to just the foods you enjoy. And…”

“And…?”

Todoroki smiles softly at you, resting a hand against your cheek as he meets your gaze before he speaks again. “And I very much like the idea of getting to come home to you.”

“I like the idea of that, too,” you tell him, barely able to contain your own excitement as you smile and lean in for his lips.

The kiss you share now is slow and sweet, soft with the devotion you have for each other, the love you finally get to share. You feel him smile against your lips, gentle and content, and then he’s pulling back to meet your eyes, his fingers brushing the hair out of your face.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a definite yes. I’d love to move in with you, Sho.”

And when you see the way he smiles at you, warm and fond and so, so in love with you, you know you’ve made the right choice.

You snuggle into his side, making yourself comfortable with your head on his chest, while he welcomes you eagerly, tightening his arm around you and letting his cheek rest on the top of your head. When you remember your earlier distress, so different from the calm and comfort you’ve settled into now, you can’t help but laugh, pressing the keys that you were so sure were going to be a ring into your palm.

Beside you, Todoroki hums and faces you with a questioning look. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just— for a second there, when Izuku told me you wanted to ask me something, I panicked. I thought you were going to ask me to marry you.”

A beat of silence follows. You expect him to laugh with you, but instead he grows quiet. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing, but then he reaches for your hand and slides his fingers through yours, shifting so he can face you properly, mismatched eyes curious and searching.

“Is that something you’d want?” he asks, more quietly than he needs to, like he’s afraid he might scare you off. “With me?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” you answer, voice as quiet as his. “In fact, I’ve actually tried really hard not to think about it. I didn’t think it was an option for me before.”

“Same here,” he says, and for some reason, hearing him be so honest and knowing that he thought the same fills you with relief, the steadiness of his voice comforting you the way it always has. “But if it’s with you…”

“If it’s with you…” You lift your head to look at him and press your palm flat against his chest, right above his heart. “I think we could make it work.”

He kisses you, then, slow and soft just like before, with his heart beating against your palm, strong and steady, unwavering when it comes to you, the way it’s always been. There’s a promise in it, too, one you hope he feels is reflected in the way you kiss him back, one that feels like forever.

You’re both smiling at each other when you pull away. Todoroki looks at you like he’s always looked at you, like you’re all he wants to see. Like you’re home, and for the first time in your life, you know you are.

And he doesn’t need to say anything else, doesn’t need to prove himself any more than he already has, but he says it anyway.

“Yeah. I think we could, too.”

And the best part is, he means it.

Written by: Dawn Taglist link

[fingertipsmp3]

Literally lying in bed like a Victorian child about to perish from the consumption

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

It’s a running joke in the manor that Tim’s kid was like a cat

And he would never admit that he could kind of see it himself.

The climbing, the ability to go from zero to a hundred in energy, and unfortunate ability to be too cute to actually get mad at him for anything he does.

Finding said son running out and about when there was breakout was pushing through.

“Hi Dad!!”

“Danny! What are you doing out here?!it’s still lockdown chickadee!”

Danny looked down at the ground and scuffed one of his shoe against the pavement.

“I know… but you’ve been gone so long and I’ve been worried!”

Tim sighed and tapped his comm,

“Oracle, please keep lookout for the next couple minutes.”

And crouched down in front of his son,

“You haven’t been home in a while and I missed you..”

Tim sighed as he wiped a tear from Danny’s face.

It was almost unfortunate how much the kid took after him.

“Kiddo I’m sorry, that’s my fault, I know we haven’t been able to hang out for the past week-“

Danny stomped a foot in frustration,

“No you don’t understand! You forget to sleep when you don’t come home ‘n’ great grandpa Alffie said we got to sleep because it’s good for you ‘n’ that when you don’t you are more likely to get hurt! I don’t want you hurt!”

Tim wanted to argue, and say that he was fine. He’s been taking cat naps between searching and the fights. If it was anyone else in his family he would’ve done so.

But this was his son, his little chickadee who loves so much and worries about himself so little.

He needs to set an precedent before bad habits emerge.

Picking Danny up, Tim set him down onto his hip and stuck his chin on his head.

“You’re right, I guess I haven’t been being nice to myself like I’m supposed to. How about we go back home and I’ll lay down with you for a couple hours?”

Danny peered up with glassy eyes,

“Can you stay for breakfast?”

And didn’t that just hurt to hear? Faded memories of asking that same question only to be given this almost pitying look danced in the back his mind.

“Sorry kiddo, but we just don’t have enough time before our flight but don’t worry when we get back we’ll have a family day, just the three of us!”

Clearing his throat Tim met his son’s eyes.

“Sure champ, and when we finally get joker back in Arkham we can ask everyone to have a family day, how does that sound?”

Stars almost seemed to take over Danny’s eyes as he let out a little gasp.

“Really?!”

“I promise.”

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

Yes, many of Danny’s mannerisms were reminiscent of a cat, but this was new.

Tim pinched his eyebrow in exasperation as he looked at his siblings.

He wished he never got up this morning.

“And how exactly did Danny somehow get a crowbar?”

The kid in question just happily swung his legs as he sat on the bench unaware that he himself was going to be getting a far longer conversation as soon as they got back to the manor.

“To be honest.. in hindsight, not my brightest moment.”

“WHY IN GODS NAME A CROWBAR?!”

“He said he needed something to help take care of the trash! I thought he would use it like a knapsack or something!”

Jason Thew his hands in the air, and Dick let out a snort while he nudged the mess of a clown next to him.

“Well he very much did use it for something.”

“Nightwing! I’m just as mad at you for somehow loosing the kid this badly to begin with!! You. Are. Not. Helping.”

“I know but I’m just saying, he gets his dramaticism from you.”

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

At the end of the day, Joker ended up paralyzed from the neck down.

Jason and Dick were both no longer allowed to babysit Danny alone.

And one little munchkin was, though very much grounded, hailed a hero by all of Gotham for the actions that were live-streamed by onlookers.

And once he was no longer grounded, he did get his family day.

[xazse]

scara would be such an asshole to bunny!reader (or hybrid!reader in general) lol, constantly pulling your ears and pulling your tail..

can I request scara teasing bunnt reader and then he starts to feel a little bad when he notices his bunny is all sad and sulking!

How can he not feel bad when he hears your sobbing in the middle of the night?:( He'd probably fxck you dumb and fill you as a sorry <3

SCARAMOUCHE X BUNNYGIRL!READER

Notes: you guys are killing me so good 😭, btw if you do want more scara stuff leave me some prompts like the first anon did, I’m kinda running short on ideas. And I decided to combine two asks

Pairings: Scaramouche x Bunnygirl!Reader

Tags: Hybrid!Reader, Crying, Squirting, Mean!Scaramouche, Biting, NOT PROOFREAD (lol none of my works are)

Oh he’s such a bastard some days, when he thinks you’ve been a little too annoying some days he’ll simply tap your nose, he knows how sensitive the damn thing is, it’s the only thing that’ll get you to give him some time to hear his own thoughts, it doesn’t last long before you’re giving him feather light kisses all over his face.

A day where he’s relaxing in his office, all his work finished you come prancing in yipping for his attention again… for the third time today. He’s sitting in his chair when you come wrap your arms around his neck and sit down on his lap. Scaramouche really isn’t in the mood

to entertain you, so he gently pushes you off.

“Not right now..” Scaramouche scolds, he can’t see the hurt in your eye but you make no move to leave the room, you’ve been with him for a while but still aren’t used to blunt attitude.

The rest of the week is spent him pushing you away, turning you away, barely engaging with you, it hurts you so badly, you want to be able to talk about your day with him, cuddle and kiss him but he just isn’t going for it.

Your breaking point is when you were both in bed, you were half asleep and attempted to move on top of him just for the extra comfort, it was fine the first few seconds, your long fluffy ears relaxing before he once again brushed you off of him, insisting it was way to hot for you to be ontop of him.

That really was it, you started to sleep in the living room, giving scara the excuse that it was too stuffy in the bedroom right now, he didn’t even double check to see if that was the real reason. Later that night he’s awoken by soft sobbing, he’s been waiting so patiently for this, for you to break down already. He knows it’s a terrible thing to do, make his own girl cry just for the sake of pleasure, he can admit it was a little hard but nonetheless his pants tighten at the sound of your sniffles.

He treads soundlessly to the living room where you’re under the cover, on your stomach. your sobbing becoming more apparent. You haven’t noticed his presence yet, not until you jump from feeling a hand rubbing your cunt back and forth, only the thin layers of your panties keeping him from directly touching you. A small whine leaves your throat in-between your sniffling, and it’s so fucking hot, he doesn’t stop the motion of his hands before he’s palming his heavy cock beneath his hand.

His eyes are half lidded looking at your twitching tail, the small thing visible even under the cover. You don’t make a move to look at him either, simply content with just the pleasure he’s giving you. He removes the cover off your form he can’t see your face due to it being buried into a pillow, you won’t allow him to see your ruined face, won’t allow him to see the progress.

That just spurs him on further, his breathing’s increased a tenthfold. He grips your hips and lifts them up, but he lets you continue to sulk in the pillow, a nice arch being showcased to him. He doesn’t want to rush into fucking you, he wants you a little dumb and numb.

He pulls his underwear down a little, letting only his cock free, his balls heavy with need looking at your clothed cunt. He grabs ahold of your hips again and pulls you right against him: agaisnt his cock, he starts slow when he rubs himself against your pussy, groans are already leaving his throat in short pauses. He’s guiding your hips up and down.

You looked so cute, the ultimate submission from your part has his hips speeding up, he’ll worry about apologizing later, right now he needs to be balls deep inside of you.

He quickly pulls your panties down, exposing your pussy to the cool night draft. His sweet bunny is oh so wet from the grinding: it makes the situation much easier. He jerks himself off a few times before lining up with your hole and pushing himself In all the way.

A sharp whine leaves your lips, it doesn’t even take another second before your clenching down on him, he doesn’t give you time, already giving you fast deep strokes, so deep he has to use a little bit of strength to hold your torso down. The way his cock drags along your walls is so good, so dizzying, he positions himself to press his stomach on your back, getting close to your head right in your ear.

“So good, you feel so good..” the way his voice shivers makes you feel a tad bit better but that doesn’t excuse the hurt, your tears have dried up, your sobs have stopped but the constant sniffling remains.

He continues to fuck you hard, whilst still whispering obscenities into your ear, he leans up just a little, seeing your ears twitch a sudden desire fills him, a mean one at that: he bites the fluff of your ear down hard. Your eyes flutter shut hard and you cry out in pain, he feels your pussy contract around him, and a liquid coating his cock, he feels his body flare up , he’s hammering into you even harder than before while you cry and babble out his name repeatedly, it’s the first time he’s made you ever squirt but it’s still an achievement, he didn’t even know your ears were just that sensitive.

[nackrosor]

~Magic Hands~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 '𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽' 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

warnings/tags: smut, massage, hurt/comfort, female receiving, v. fingering, soft Ghost, romantic tension, the room is packed with your mates so you have to keep quiet hehe

synopsis: in the aftermath of a rough mission, you find yourself unable to fall asleep due to muscle aches. Your Lieutenant offers to help you release the tension by giving you a massage, which escalates rather quickly.

word count: 4,1k.

[a/n: finally writing for my man Ghost and I'm quite proud of how this first story turned out. Now I'm curious to know what you think of it! Also, this wasn't beta-read so if there's any typo/grammatical error, let me know. Alright, enjoyyyyy 🌶️✨💀]

"You can't sleep?" 

Ghost's deep hushed voice coming from somewhere behind you makes you turn in your bedroll. The room is nearly pitch black, with only a sliver of moonlight streaming in through the half-closed window, yet providing enough light to make your close surroundings visible. Therefore, when you turn around, you can see Ghost sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, his back to the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest and legs stretched straight in front of him. The thin dark gray t-shirt, paired with the intense chiaroscuro that imbues the room, highlights the outline of his massive biceps. Your eyes linger on his arms before they meet his, which twinkle slightly as they capture the moonshine.

"You neither?" 

He hums in response.

A weary sigh escapes you as you sprawl on your back, hand flying to the nape of your neck, where the muscles tug and burn. You feel like a wreck. You knew today’s operation would have been rough, even more than the last ones and you were prepared for it, you had trained so hard for months. You've risked your own skin multiple times during the offensive, although in the end you got away with only a scratch or two; nothing major. You were still high on adrenaline as you made it back to the base camp -a dilapidated temporary facility in the middle of a thick forest- and you were even rather impressed of yourself for having handled it all so well… until fatigue came crushing on you like a double-decker bus, almost knocking you to your knees and you felt the magnitude of the efforts made in all its gravity. You tried to mask it as you dined with your brothers in arms, a scarce sorry meal that didn’t even quench a third of your appetite, then instantly dragged your 200 pounds heavier than normal legs to the storage room adapted for sleeping and flopped down on your bed roll. You thought the ache would pass, that you only needed to lie down and let your limbs rest but it has already been three or four hours since then and you haven’t been able to close your eyes not even once.

"Everything aches so much. I might have strained a muscle or something. Possibly all of them." 

Ghost hums again in understanding. A moment of silence follows; silence only interrupted by the rhythmic snoring of your mates, laying in their bedrolls all around you in the tiny room.

"Come here." 

Your head snaps up. 

"Uh?" 

"You heard me. We need to do something about those sore muscles. Can't allow them to get in the way of the mission tomorrow." 

You look questioningly at him, eyes roaming over his masked face, as if expecting to be able to read his intentions. What can he do for you? The same as he can do for himself, which is pretty much nothing; he’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you to suck it up. If only there was a medic in the facility, you could have asked for an injection to ease the tension in your body but alas, you're on your own down here, equipped with no instant medication other than a pack of analgesics reserved for battle and a pain drug; but there's no way you'd take one on a night before a mission and risk waking up as a zombie in the morning. 

You’d have to wait for a proper medical treatment when you’re out of this hell, assuming you’re still in one piece by then.

“We don’t have all night, Sergeant.”

Ugh, using your title, of course. It can only mean the Lieutenant won’t accept a refusal from you. And who are you to refuse anyway? Just a lower soldier in pain; nothing special about you.

Even though you are still perplexed about his intentions, you scoot toward him, crawling silently so as to not wake up the others. Fortunately you don’t have to step on someone’s lying body to reach your superior.

He spreads his legs to give you room to get closer and you swallow the thrill that inflames your body at the sight of that big hunk of a man welcoming you in his lap. This is not the time to give in to such fantasies. Nor there will ever be. Hard truth.

Ghost’s fingers masterly find the waistband of your cargo trousers and tug at it to make you slide closer.

"Turn around." 

His commanding voice compels you to do as he says without question. There's no room for hesitation when he employs that tone; you must obey his directives, whether you're on the field on a mission or killing time at the HQ. Nobody can stand up to it, least of all you.

You’re barely able to suppress a gasp when you feel his huge hands take hold of your hips and settle you between his thighs, your back colliding with his firm chest. You can't, however, physically stop the shiver that runs down your spine as his palms climb up your sides, sliding upward over your back, causing you to bend slightly forward as he reaches your shoulders. There, he begins to knead your muscles carefully, knowing where to apply more pressure and where to let the tip of his fingers do most of the work.

You’re too stunned to speak. Never in a million years you would have guessed this is what he had in mind to do to help you. Ghost, your Lieutenant, has his hands on you, in a room full of fellow soldiers, in the middle of the night while you are on duty. What crazy-ass dream is this?

"Ghost-," you shudder, his hands working on a particularly sore spot, "a m-massage, seriously?" 

“What?”

“They only make things worse-”

While having Ghost do it is a whole new experience for you, you've received your fair share of massages, both throughout your years of training and after you became a special agent and they never seemed to work on you. They always left you in more pain than you were in before. You could have blamed it on the medic if only you hadn’t changed so many during the past years; they couldn't all have been incompetent, could they?

"You never got one from me, innit? They don't call me magic hands for nothing." 

You frown, throwing him a sideway glance over your shoulder. 

"Nobody calls you that." 

You hear him huff and your head is forced back to face straight by a firm nudge.

As strange and unexpected as it may seem, you must admit that his hands are truly doing Lord’s work against your shoulders, easing your tensed muscles and relieving some pain, so much so that you find yourself closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. 

"See? Just relax." 

His hands scoot lower, sliding down your back and sides, resting just above your bum. The warmth of his palms rubbing that sore area in circular motions sends more shivers up your spine. In his ascent back up, he pays attention to the tensed muscles of your arms, thumbs kneading deep into them and then finally, he goes back to your neck. Your breath catches at the feeling of his strong hands wrapping around it. His firm touch appears to arouse something primal within you. You can feel heat pooling in your core right away. 

"Fucking hell. Your neck is rock hard." 

He increases the pressure, rubbing the skin and working on the knots. His thumbs slide up and down your larynx, matching the movement of his other fingers on the nape. Your head bends backward on its own, landing on his chest. 

Ghost hums again, appreciatively. 

"You liking it?" 

"Y-yes, sir-"

His chest shakes softly against your back, a light rumble coming from his throat. 

"Good girl." 

You bite back a gasp. Those hushed words only add to the growing ache between your legs. The massage is clearly starting to turn you on and you feel… conflicted. You know you shouldn’t let his skillful touch, nor his raspy voice whispering so close to your ear or the warmth of his chest pressed against your back affect you so much. However, you are basically caged in his lap, how are you supposed to not let that cloud your judgment? To not allow your fantasies to run wild in your head? Yes, you’re strong, but… not that strong. You can’t possibly stop your body from reacting so naturally to all of these overwhelming sensations. Especially when you’re so touch-starved, and having Ghost being the one to indulge your craving doesn’t help in the slightest.

 " Mh, you're tensing up again." 

Ghost swiftly resumes working on your back, placing the palm of each hand on either side of your spine and working his way up, keeping his hands parallel to one another. When he reaches the top of your back, he fans his hands outwards across the shoulders, as if outlining the top of a heart. Using a kneading motion, he returns to the lower of your back to work the large muscles on either side of your spine then presses his fingertips firmly into your flesh before quickly releasing as he works his way up. The constant pressing and releasing sends your spine tingling and you fail to hold back a moan.    

“Yes. Don’t fight it.”

If only he knew what you were actually fighting against. How can the tension leave your body if his touch and his closeness and his voice are all working so hard together to make you tense up all the more?

You feel his hands close into fists and his knuckles start to rub gently but firmly across the tops of your shoulders and then glide down your biceps, the inner part of your arms, the side of your chest... 

Inadvertently, your body jerks at the new sensation, and his hand accidentally brushes up against your breast, fingers knocking into the slight bulge in your top caused by your aroused nipple. You stifle the moan that erupts from your throat by biting your bottom lip hard, your body stiffening instantaneously. 

Silence falls into the room, coating it in tension; your mates are not even snoring anymore. You don’t dare to move a muscle, you can barely keep your ragged breathing under control. 

Has he noticed? Does he realize what has just happened? It’s so dark in here and it all happened so quickly, he may have no idea what he has just touched, he may have not caught the lewd sound that came out of your mouth, either. Your body has tensed so much, however, that your reaction must have caught his attention. Any doubt goes out the window when you feel his hands retract and his body shift uncomfortably behind you. 

Well, fuck it . You just had to make it awkward, didn’t you? For both of you! How embarrassing. He will look at you and treat you differently from now on, you know it already. You're soldiers, for god’s sake! You're professionals! And he’s your superior! These things shouldn’t happen! They should stay out of work. And to think that you've managed to get this far, despite Ghost's strong magnetic pull on you since the first time you saw him... You’ve hidden your emotions so well for months. But unfortunately, no matter how hard you try and succeed at hiding it, you can’t really control your body and how it reacts to his presence, touch, or gaze. This was bound to happen sooner or later, as much as you prayed it wouldn’t. Besides, how could you have even imagined you would find yourself in such a crazy situation at one point? Working with him every day, getting very physical on the field and still keeping your emotions at bay was already enough to drive you insane. There was no way you could have handled this and came out victorious.

But perhaps you could still salvage this somehow, or at the very least escape the horrible truth-spilling conversation that awaits you. Yes, it is possible. You simply need to get the hell away from Ghost, crawl back to your bedroll, attempt to sleep it off, and put the burden aside to deal with it another day. Easier said than done.

Your hands fumble around you, hoping to meet the cold tiles of the floor -rather than those god-like legs stretched at either side of you- and you bend forward in an attempt to hoist yourself up. 

“A-alright, this has been nice-”

A steel-strong arm snakes around your middle and forcefully pulls you back. You gasp as your spine collides with his chest once more. 

Now that you're pressed up against him, even closer than you were before, you can feel his bulge against your lower back and your mouth goes dry.

"Ghost-", your voice comes out in a loud, unsteady squick and he instantly hushes you, tightening the grip around your waist. 

You feel his hot breath caress your ear even through the balaclava. “We’re not done here, yet.”

His hands start to travel up and down your body once again, bolder this time, skimming over areas he hasn't touched before. The hand wrapped around your middle slips under your tank top, fondling the smooth flesh at your side as it raises, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin, until it reaches the upper area of your stomach. There, his fingertips tease the lower curve of your breast from above the fabric of your sports bra. Your breath catches again but you don't dare to move. He holds his palm there for a long minute. 

Is he testing you? Is he messing with you? Is he silently asking for permission to move forward? The affirmative guttural sound that rewards you as you finally throw your morals out the window and boldly place your hand over his and tug it upwards, sweeps away any doubt. His big hand instantly covers your whole breast, groping it gently at first then squeezing it decisively. His other hand comes to match the motion as they both slide inside the cups and fondle your soft sensitive flesh before turning the focus onto your erect nipples, causing you to arch your back forward and shiver. 

“Is this-”, your voice catches in your throat as his fingers pinch your nipples hard, lips squeezing together to muffle a groan, “-why they call you magic hands ?” 

You feel a light chuckle rumble in his chest and against your back.

“You catch up real quick, Sergeant…”, he whispers in your ear in that gravelly voice that makes you squirm, “...but you don’t know the half of it.” And as if on cue, one of his hands sneaks out of your tank top and slides down your stomach, skimming over the inseam of your pants and resting on your crotch, causing a warmth to spread from deep within your stomach. Two fingers push against your core, suggestively and your heart races. Your breaths are ragged in anticipation. 

“Bet you’re desperate to find out, innit?”

You don’t even realize you’re nodding in response until you feel him huff a laugh through his nose, blowing cool air right next to your ear. 

"Curiosity killed the cat, didn't you hear?" 

His palm rubs against your crotch up and down a few times before giving it a firm squeeze. 

You suck in air through your teeth and your hand lands on his thigh at your side, fingers dipping in his firm muscle. 

" Please -" 

You're not sure what you're even begging him for, your mind dazed with desire, and all you can focus on is the heady sensation of having his warm palm rest so close to your aching cunt but still denying you the touch you desperately crave for. 

Ghost doesn't need you to say anything, he clearly knows what you're pleading for and he makes quick work of unzipping your pants before sliding his hand inside. His eager fingers meet your panties which are, unsurprisingly, already soaked; a small detail that he seems to appreciate greatly. He runs his digits over the wet patch on the fabric, eliciting a loud moan from you. 

An abrupt stirring sound freezes you and your head snaps up, heart jumping in your throat, while your eyes dart across the room expecting to meet the shocked expression of one of your brothers. The thought of having been spotted however doesn't seem to stop Ghost from pushing his fingers beneath the damp fabric of your undies. You don't have time to still the violent beating of your heart as he begins to circle his way through your folds, instantly drawing back your whole attention. A harsh whine crawls up your throat when the pad of his finger meets your clitoris and his free hand immediately moves to cover your mouth. His clad lips suddenly draw close to your ear, skin tingling at the contact. 

"You don't want to wake up the boys, do you, kitten?" 

You shake your head profusely and he hums softly. 

"Thought so."

You suppress the cries of pleasure that he provokes by rubbing his fingers up and down over your slit in a slow intoxicating way, your hips shaking with each swipe. He presses his forearm against your stomach to hold your body still, squeezing you closer to him as a result. 

You wince as you hear it; the wet sound of your desire seems to be the only noise in the otherwise silent room and it only grows louder when Ghost teases your entrance, rubbing his pads around it before easily pushing two fingers inside. You screw your eyes shut and throw your head back against his chest. As he thrusts inside you in a steady rhythm, he presses his palm on your most sensitive part, and drags his hand in a firm circle against it. The feeling is dizzying and it sends lightning jolting through you. 

Ghost's hand leaves your mouth to grab your inner thigh and push it over his adjacent knee, spreading your legs wide apart to gain better access to your core and thus shove his fingers deeper inside you. In fact, his next thrust perfectly hits that sacred spot buried deep between your walls and you grasp a fist of his t-shirt and pull it against your lips to muffle your whimpers, while your other hand tugs firmly at his tensed arm lying on your stomach.

You are close, so close. You can feel the heat in your gut begin to bubble and spread, scorching and hair-raising, to the rest of your quivering body. Ghost too seems to notice by the way you tuck into him and clutch at his arm as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded, your safe anchor. His fingers grab your chin and angle your head so that your eyes meet. 

His eyes… his big eyes. The only visible part of his face, the only part you are allowed to lay your gaze on and let it linger. And oh, how beautiful they are. Especially now, glinting with moonshine and looking down at you with a special twinkle which you can’t quite decipher but that makes your heart swell. 

You prompt yourself up in a daze, just enough to cup his cheek and pull him down to meet you in a quite unorthodox kiss. You press your lips desperately to his mask, just above his own and you feel them twitch at the contact, responding to the kiss only a moment later. 

You stay like that while his hand still works against you, faster and sloppier but hitting you perfectly with each push. You keep your lips glued to his as the coiling pleasure in your belly finally snaps, a heady wave of pleasure washes over you and makes your body jerk uncontrollably. Your cries are muffled by the fabric of his mask, even more so when his hand cups the back of your neck and presses you harder against him. He continues to slowly dip his fingers inside your fluttering walls then litter your small bundle of nerves with a few more soft teasing caresses all the while subsiding your spasms with his strong embrace. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your chest heaving hard, heart still racing and legs still shaking when his hand slips out of your pants and you pull back. You let your head rest on his chest as you take a deep long breath. Almost instantly a subdued ruffle of fabrics strikes your ear and you can feel a cool breath blowing on your neck before a pair of soft damp lips meet your boiling skin. You bite your lips at the shiver-inducing sensation; it feels like a vital secret shared in utmost confidence and you don’t dare break the touching moment until his lips retreat and the mask is safely put back on. Only then you chance a look up through a heavy-lidded gaze and you meet his beautiful eyes again, which in turn watch your reactions with a hazy, adoring gaze. All is forgotten; the packed room, the initial conflict you felt, the aching muscles… The only thing you can focus on is the tingling sensation abandoning your body, leaving the way to the heartening warmth of his embrace and gaze. 

“Ghost-”

“Simon.”

You gulp, nodding feebly as you reverently search his eyes. 

“Simon…” 

Saying his name feels strange but also… meaningful. Like uttering a magic word or being handed the sole key that unlocks the armored door that keeps the treasure safe; treasure so priceless and vulnerable that only a few trusted people are allowed to take a glimpse at it.

“I’m-” you fail to find the words, mind dazed and heart hammering in your chest, “that was…”

“Kitten got more than she bargained for.” 

You catch an amused hint in his voice and even if you can’t see it, you’re certain there is a smile tugging at his lips, for the corner of his eyes curl up slightly.

“I take it the massage didn't make things worse after all?”

"Well…", you shift in his embrace, turning to face him with a sheepish grin, "that was some effective massage, alright." 

You prompt yourself up and reading your intentions he closes his legs to let you settle on his lap, your knees resting on either side of his hips. His eyes never leave yours as you lean up, arms latching around his neck. 

"Nothing aches anymore thanks to you…", you grind your hips slowly down against his, relishing in the sound of his heavy breathing picking up, "...but maybe it's you now who is in need of a release ?" You bite your lip at the rousing feeling of his throbbing bulge rubbing against your still sensitive center, as well as at the rare thrilling satisfaction of seeing him crane his head slightly up to look at you. 

His hands descend on your hips, fingers almost painfully gripping the flesh, causing you to groan.

"I wouldn't mind it one bit kitten, believe me…", his lust-clouded eyes rake over your body. You see him swallow hard as he glances down where your hips meet and a long breath escapes his lips. His gaze then trails back up, savoring every inch of you, until it finally locks with yours once again. "But you should hit the sack now."

Disappointment shows plainly on your face.

"But-" 

"Besides, I'm on second watch tonight."

"T-That’s good! I can sneak out to keep you company. I'm not sleepy! Even less now than before. We can-" 

" Negative .” His tone is peremptory and it shuts you up at once. “And don’t fret. You’ll be asleep before your head hits the mat.”

" But -" 

His hands slide up your sides and squeeze your waist, pulling you down to sit on his thighs and hold you at eye level.

"We're taking a rain check, Sergeant."

The title again. His words are final, then. 

A huge sigh escapes you and you nod at last. Reluctantly, you climb out of his lap, his hands following your every movement to support you. Before you stand on your feet and turn around, you chance one last look at him. Your heart swells as you meet once more his big beautiful eyes which look at you so gently, so wistfully… you think you can catch the promise behind them.

"Don't you dare die tomorrow, Simon."

The corners of his eyes curl up again. 

"Surely not on your watch, Kitten."

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[arctickat2400]

Post-It Note Surprises ∞ Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Some of the ways Henry shows you he loves you while he’s away, using multi-colored post-it notes. 

Word Count: 3517

A/N: Usually I wouldn’t write something with Henry being gone because in my head, I don’t like when he’s gone, but I found a post for inspiration and this is how I thought it out. 

A/N2: Usually I will have notes to write a story from but this is just something random I came across and decided to write it at the top of my head, so I apologize if it’s not very good. Sorry for the weird, cheesy repetition. No method to my madness. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

* * * *

You woke up to a gentle stroke over the bridge of your nose, a small smile rising to your lips. Opening your eyes just slightly to see Henry gazing down at you as he leaned on his arm above you, “Good morning, beautiful,” he smiles once he sees your eyes, an index finger tracing gentle lines across the smooth skin of your face. You let out a quiet giggle as you turn to hide your face against his chest. Henry chuckles deeply in return, burying his fingers into your hair. You turn your head to look up at him, his eyes still on you.

“Morning, my love,” You respond as Henry leans down and rubs his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss. 

“How did you sleep?” Henry questioned, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“Okay since I was sleeping next to you,” You answer with a grin on your lips. “But also not the best considering what tonight is,” Your smile faded a bit at the thought of Henry leaving. He was leaving tonight to go on a trip for the next two weeks to shoot some scenes for his upcoming movie in Europe, and although there’s been times he’s been gone for longer periods of time, any length of time away from him was excruciating. 

“I know, baby,” Henry offered you a sympathetic smile. He hated leaving you. He hated not being able to hold you in his arms every night. But he planned on making this few week transition as easy as possible for you. “But I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll FaceTime everyday so I can see that gorgeous face of yours,” Henry stated, leaning down to press a kiss to your nose.

Giggling and moving onto your back to look up at him, “More like so I can see your handsome face,” You placed your hand on his cheek, tracing your thumb over his lips. “Luckily I have quite a bit of work to get done so hopefully that’ll make time go by faster.”

Henry brushes a strand of hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “Are you going to work today?” He asks.

“Unfortunately, yes. The one day I have to go in is the day you leave. Figures,” You roll your eyes with frown. Henry chuckles softly.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I have stuff I need to get done around here before I leave anyway.” Henry mentioned as you sat up in bed, Henry turning onto his back as you turned to look at him.

“Oh, do you mind if I take your car today? I haven’t put gas in mine and by the time I leave, I won’t have time to get any before work.” You requested, even though you knew he’d say ‘yes’ - he always did with whatever you asked - but you always asked anyway. 

“Of course, love,” He answered, his arm propping his head up to look up at you with a look of adoration. You leaned down to press a kiss of gratitude to his lips before getting up to get ready for work, however reluctantly. All you wanted to do was stay in his arms all day. 

~ That Night ~

“Be safe. Try your hardest not to get hurt on set. I don’t want a phone call from someone that’s not you telling me you’re in the hospital again,” You told Henry jokingly, although you were far from joking and he knew it. Your arms hung around his neck and his arms enclosed around your waist, holding you close as you stood in the airport to say goodbye. 

“I’ll try my best, my love. We shouldn’t be shooting anything too dangerous. I don’t want you worrying your pretty little head about me. You have enough going on as it is.” Henry responded, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“I love you so much, bear,” You whispered close to his lips, a single tear sliding down your cheek.

“I love you, my sweet girl. I miss you already,” Henry leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips to yours in a passionate, goodbye kiss. Henry wrapped his arms around you tight in one last hug. He pulled back, thumbing away your tear as he looked you in the eyes once more, a sad smile on both your faces, before he kissed your forehead and you watched him off to his flight. 

The next day, you’d decided to run some errands, stock up on some groceries. You’d meant to do it yesterday after work, but decided against it so you could spend as much time with Henry as you could before he left. You didn’t really have it in you to go out, considering you had gotten your period last night after you got home from the airport and you were exhausted, and add that to the fact that you always felt overly tired when Henry was gone. But you knew you needed to get it done and get it over with. You went to look in the fridge to see what all you needed when you spotted a small basket of your favorite kinds of chocolate, and your entire day just became a tiny bit brighter. 

You reached in after you noticed a purple post-it note on top. 

Hey, sweetheart. I wish I was with you to comfort you through your monthly curse, but I hope this will help until I can be there for you. Enjoy, my love, and I’ll see you soon 💜

You didn’t know whether it was the overstimulated hormones or just the fact that you missed your super sweet boyfriend dearly, but a few tears managed to slip down your cheeks at the wonderful gesture. The fact that Henry even knew that you were going to have your period while he was gone was unbelievable, but what was even more insane was that he went to the store and bought things for you to help you feel better. This man was a saint, and you loved him all the more for it. Even when he’s not home, he’s still taking care of you. You stuck the post-it onto the fridge with a smile on your face.

Opening one of the bags of chocolate, you ate a few pieces, reveling in the deliciousness as you made a list of everything you needed at the store. Putting the bag back in the fridge, you grabbed your mini backpack, keys, and phone, sliding on your shoes and walking into the garage.

“Man,” You groaned the moment you laid eyes on your car. You forgot you needed to get gas. That’s why you took Henry’s car to work yesterday. Now you have to get gas and go to the store. You were already in a lot of pain (the second day was always the worst), and all you wanted to do was lay in bed and sleep. You jumped in your car and turned it on, and just as you were about to turn on your music, you caught in the corner of your eye the gas meter. It was not actually almost empty. It was, in fact, completely full. “What?” You muttered to yourself, before your eyes flicked down to the middle console to see a red post-it note there. 

Hey, gorgeous. I filled up your car and I hope having one less thing on your plate makes you feel a bit better. I miss you so much. I hope you know you are loved and cared for and that you’re always on my mind ❤️

This man really knows the ways to a woman’s heart. You made a mental note to make sure to stick this post-it note on the fridge next to the first one when you get home. You pulled out of the garage with an adoring grin on your face for the amazing man that you graciously get to call yours. On the drive to the grocery store, you began making a mental list of all the things you could do for Henry. He never expected anything in return. All he wanted to do was love on you and take care of you. But how could you not do things for him to thank him for literally being Henry? 

Once you got home, you placed the red post-it next to the purple on the fridge before putting away all the groceries. You had some work that needed to get done but, deciding to work on it in the next coming days, you decide to go relax on the back patio instead. An ocean view was something very high on your list of what you had to have when looking for a new place to live once you and Henry decided to move in together.

You absolutely loved to sit outside on your favorite patio swing that was covered with pillows and cushions with a book while listening to the waves crashing against the shore. However, it was just last week that you’d noticed the two screws on the right side in the ceiling were coming loose. You’d gone to tell Henry who had come to look at it and advised you not sit there until he was able to fix it. He’s been so busy lately that he hasn't had the time to fix it.

Fortunately, you had some other comfy patio furniture that you were happy to sit on in the meantime. You were just disappointed because the swing reminded you of all the moments you would sit there with Henry all snuggled up in his arms, listening to the waves, talking about everything and nothing. 

You went to grab your book in case you decided you wanted to read, and a blanket to cozy up with on the patio, choosing the L-shaped couch. You set your things down before turning to go back inside to get a drink, but something caught your eye. A blue post-it note sat on the neatly made patio swing. 

Hey, angel. I knew it was inevitable that you’d want to come lounge around out here so I fixed the swing before I left. I wish I was there to hold you and cozy up with you. We’ll be able to do so soon enough. Enjoy the peace and quiet, my love 🩵

After recovering from the sweetness of the note, you remembered what the point of the note was and you instantly looked up to see that Henry had indeed fixed the swing. He’d even replaced the screws on the left side as well. You gasped quietly at just how amazing this man is. You walk inside to place the blue post-it next to the red on the fridge before strolling back outside and settling onto the swing. Taking a deep breath, you bask in the peace as you lean back into the cushions with a smile on your face, swinging gently in the breeze as you imagine your big bear of a boyfriend holding you tight in his embrace. 

Just as you were finishing up a chapter of your book, you felt your stomach rumble in hunger. You checked your phone to see it was already time for dinner. Placing your bookmark inside, you closed your book, took your blanket, and headed inside. You began looking through the pantry for something to eat before moving to the fridge. You’d gotten stuff for dinners when you’d gone shopping, but you couldn’t tell what you were in the mood for. 

Finally, you bent down to open the freezer, not having bought anything that needed to be freezed, so you wanted to see what had been stored in there. What you found on the very top was a delicious looking glass dish full of cheesy, crumb-topped, bacon-filled spaghetti carbonara, and on top of that, a green post-it note.

Hey, Princess. Thought a prepared meal would lift your spirits so you don’t have to cook for the next few nights if you’re not up for it. Heat at 350 for 20 minutes. I love you always 💚

Even when he’s not here, it seems like he still is with all that he’s done. And he did it within a single day without you even knowing! Everyday, you find yourself loving this man just a tad bit more with all the ways he shows his love for you. It is impossible not to love Henry. He could do absolutely nothing at all and just be with you and love you, and you’d still love him with all your heart. 

You place the green post-it next to the blue on the fridge with a sweet smile as you take the pasta dish and place it into the oven. You do just as Henry instructed of you on his note and heated Henry’s gesture of love at 350 for 20 minutes *she says in a dreamy tone*.

“How do you do it?” Was the very first thing you said to Henry the moment you answered his FaceTime call later that night. 

“I’m guessing you found the notes I left you,” Henry responds with a grin, trying to keep the blush from showing on his cheeks. It wasn’t working. 

“I did, and I am just so astounded at how a man, my man may I add, could possibly be so amazing that he can make my day so much better without even being around. How I could feel so loved and be so taken care of when you’re not even here. How is that even possible?” You exclaim, bewildered. 

“You’re just that easy to love, sweetheart. I can’t help but show you in every way possible how much you mean to me and how much I love you,” Henry answers with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders, although his gaze never parts from yours as a crimson blush rises to your own cheeks. You’ve always had a tough time loving yourself. But with Henry, he made it seem so effortless, like he was made to love. 

“I love you so much. You always do so much for me, and I just hope you know how much I love and appreciate you,” You express to Henry, receiving a smile from him. 

“I do, baby. I really do,” Henry winked at you, making your cheeks blush deeper. The rest of the night, you both talked about your days and everything that you did. You love to hear all about Henry’s time on set and all that he gets to do and see. 

“I wish you were here, or I was there. I just wanna be home with you,” Henry admitted, staring dreamily into your eyes.

“I know, darling, I wish I was with you, too. It’s so hard being without you. But, soon enough, you’ll be home, and hopefully for a long while,” You smiled, followed by a yawn. You hadn’t taken a nap today, and you hoped it would allow you to sleep better even without Henry in bed with you. 

“Get some rest, sweet girl. I’ll text you in the morning before going to set. Sweet dreams, my love,” Henry wished to you with a smile of his own. 

“Goodnight, handsome. Talk to you soon,” You replied. Henry winked at you, pulling a giggle from you and a cheerful smile from him before you both hung up to sleep.

~ A few days before Henry comes home ~ 

Placing a plate of brownies and a glass of milk on your desk, you sit down in front of your computer to continue working on your project. You take a bite of your snack, followed by a sip of milk before opening your drawer to take out your notebook. Except there was something on top, exactly where Henry knew you would look at one point or another. There, set on your notebook, was a mini picture frame. Inside was one of your most favorite photos of you and Henry - you could never choose just one.

It was when you and Henry had first moved into your home and you had taken it standing outside on the patio with the ocean in the background. Henry’s arms were wrapped around you, his head on your shoulder, and you both had such happy smiles on your faces. It was quite rare that there wasn’t a smile on your faces when you were around each other. You made each other happier than either of you ever thought possible. 

Then, there was the pink post-it note right beside the frame.

Hey, baby girl. I’ll be home soon and you’ll be back in my arms in no time. When I went out while you were at work the other day, I saw this and thought of you 💗 I put my favorite photo of us in it and I hope it puts that beautiful smile on your face that I absolutely adore. 

The longing for your most precious man was almost excruciating. You missed him so much, and seeing him touch you but not being able to feel him was one of the hardest things to have to bear. 

You headed to the kitchen and placed the pink post-it next to the green on the fridge before sitting back down at your desk and propping the mini frame up next to your computer so you can always see it, always bringing a smile to your lips, whether Henry was right by your side or miles away. 

~The day before Henry comes home ~

Henry had a late night and a very early morning. Right after he ended on set, he would go straight to bed after, meaning you wouldn’t be able to FaceTime tonight. However, you couldn’t be too disappointed because his early morning meant he came home tomorrow!

Henry: I love you so much, darling! I can’t wait to see you tomorrow! Just a little while longer! 💜❤️🩵💚💗

His goodnight text brought a smile to your face as you noticed his string of heart emojis were the colors of the post-it notes he set out for you to find during his time away. Your body buzzed with excitement, anticipation for the love of your life to finally come home. You almost couldn’t wait, but you had no choice. You attempted to get some more of your project done, mostly just staring at the screen and daydreaming because you could hardly focus. Finally, it was late enough that you could go to bed and sleep away the hours keeping you from Henry. 

You moaned as your alarm went off, one eye peeking open to see it was only 5 AM. Why was your alarm going off at such an inopportune time of the morning? 

You hopped up instantly the second your mind remembered that Henry was coming home! In less than 2 hours, you would finally be back in each other’s arms. 

You scrambled around trying to look for clothes and shoes in your half asleep, half amped state. You grabbed your keys, backpack, and phone and rushed to your car. The only thing keeping you awake was the anticipation of finally seeing Henry again in person.

You arrived at the airport with 10 minutes to spare. You parked the car and ran inside where you would meet Henry by baggage claim. You stopped at the end of the hall where a group of people were walking through after getting off their flight. You checked the tv that listed all the flight stats and instantly found Henry’s flight - on time. You smiled when you felt your heart flutter, looking ahead when you finally caught sight of the man who never ceases to make your knees weak and your heart melt. The biggest smile came to your face, and the moment Henry saw you, his smile appeared and the sparkle in his eyes burned bright.

Your eyes meet and your feet start moving on their own accord. You ran closer and closer until Henry dropped his bags to catch you effortlessly in his strong embrace, spinning you around as you held on tight. 

“I missed you so much, my darling baby girl.” Henry admitted, setting you down but still holding you in his arms, holding your head against his chest as he reveled in the feeling of his most precious girl. 

It was hard to let go, but when you finally did, you met in the middle with a fiery, passionate kiss, long overdue. When you pulled apart for air, Henry placed his hands on either side of your face, holding you there so he could finally look at you again. He’s had you memorized ever since he first met you. But everytime he comes home from a trip, it’s like seeing you again for the first time, having to look at every inch of your face as you hold on tight to his wrists, making sure he won't let go.

“Tell me everything!” You exclaimed blissfully. You had the brightest look on your face as you couldn’t look away from him. Henry gazed at you with the most adoring smile on his face - he’s finally home.

[whoreforhorror]

So, I literally have no motivation and am just not in a great place right now. I can barely get out of bed for work and showers are exhausting.

Have a repost from my AO3

Movie Intervention (Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher)

Summary: You’ve been working yourself too hard at school and haven’t given the boys the attention they need, so they take things into their own hands.

It was a bad habit to fall into, you knew that. Still, there wasn’t much you could do about it. Between actually having to go to school, the homework you got after, and work, your day was jam-packed. There weren’t enough hours in the day, so you had to free your hours at night. This means that you were here again, gearing up for another late late-night study session. Physics specifically had been kicking your ass and you had to ace this next test or you were certain you’d be doomed to repeat the class. For the sake of your long-term sanity, you couldn’t let that happen.

Several times now, you’d had to cancel on your friends. You still saw them at school, and Randy at work as well, but it wasn’t the same as actually hanging out or partying. You’d had to turn down numerous invitations to sleep over at Tatum’s with Sydney and gossip. You’d had to miss Stu’s parties and miss movie nights with him and Billy. You couldn’t really indulge Randy in his usual rants at work, as well. You missed them all, especially Billy and Stu.

You cared deeply about the both of them, more so than the others in your group. You weren’t sure if they noticed or returned the sentiment, and you weren’t really sure what to call it. Maybe a crush, but it felt more comfortable than that. It would definitely be too early to call it love, too. Every time you had to turn them down, to hear the disappointment over the phone or see the looks of yet another letdown in person, it felt like someone stacked another ten-pound plate on your chest. Sooner or later, if this continued, you just might crack under the pressure.

It was nearly eleven at night now, not too late yet but you could be assured that most of Woodsboro was fast asleep by now. Knowing that was, perhaps, even more isolating than your room which you’d spent the better part of two weeks in. The desk in your room had felt more like a prison as you studied. To avoid distractions, you turned off the lights in your room and used solely the little desk lamp in the corner as you worked. It was less burning the midnight oil and more someone set the entire pot of oil on fire and poked a hole in it so that it was both burning too fast and spilling out the bottom. You were, in this moment and for the past two weeks, a fiery ball of leaking oil.

Time stretched on and your back ached. Your wrist, fingers, neck, and shoulders ached with it. Your… well your everything seemed to hurt. “It’s not even that late…” talking out loud to yourself was the only way your thoughts could be coherent at all. “I’ve stayed up way later than this. I can do this.” You could repeat a similar sentiment to yourself all you wanted, scream it at the top of your lungs and say it with all the passion your heart could hold but it wouldn’t stop the words on the pages from blurring and doubling. Nothing you looked at could stay still and you took another gulp of your half-filled energy drink (the fourth of the night and sixth of the day) which only served to prove just as unhelpful. You could feel your mind start to spiral into nonsensical half-thoughts and abstract concepts you didn’t have the energy to define.

A knock at your front door pulled your brain from its spiral and shot adrenaline through your body, enough to be able to pull yourself from your chair and drag yourself to the door. You opened it to be greeted by Stu, with his fist in the space where the door had just been, and Billy who had popcorn and a tape in hand. They seemed, at first, surprised that you answered at all, then taken aback at your disheveled, sleep-deprived appearance.

“Hey, buddy!” Stu was the first to speak up. “We missed ya’ so we thought we’d drop by. If you can’t come to movie night, we’ll bring it to you!” You weren’t quite sure what to say for a few very long seconds.

“Oh… I’m sorry guys. I can’t- I mean, I’d love to and I wish we could but I’ve got to study. Maybe some other time?” You could hear the exhaustion in your voice, much to your displeasure. You sounded worse than you thought. It hurt to have to turn them away, especially when they had gone out of their way to come to you with everything needed, but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t.

“We’re not taking no for an answer,” Billy spoke up.

“Yeah, no can do, man! I mean, we’re already here and your down here as well! It’d be more work to go allllll the way back upstairs.” He chimed in and pushed past you as he spoke. Billy followed suit.

“Guys…” you sighed out.

“Shut it.” Billy cut you off before you could finish your thought. He grabbed hold of your arm, pulling you fast enough that you could just barely shut the front door before you were much too far away. You were too tired to physically resist.

The two made their way to your living room, dragging you along with them. Billy was first to set on the couch, pulling you to sit in the middle so he was on your left. He opened the pre-made popcorn he had with him and offered you some. You were too tired to chew, if that even made sense. Either way, you shook your head. You were quickly losing any energy you had left and verbally responding to anything took far too much effort that you didn’t have.

Stu grabbed a large, fuzzy blanket from somewhere in your living room, spreading it out to cover both you and Billy, with enough extra to cover himself when he sat down as well. Billy tossed him the tape to get the movie started. You knew from the music as the movie began that they had chosen Halloween. It was a movie you had watched a thousand times, hundreds of those times being with Billy and Stu. You knew the movie like the back of your hand by now, and you were sure they knew that. They’d purposely chosen a movie you’d seen before so you could sleep without worrying about missing anything.

It dawned on you as Stu sat down on the couch right next to you on your right, covering himself with the blanket and putting his arm around your shoulder, that the boys, perhaps, felt the same closeness to you as you did to them. Certainly, they hadn’t done this for anyone else in the group. Not Randy, not Sydney, and not Tatum, even though the girls were dating Billy and Stu, respectively. It was enough to pull a smile on your lips; the first in weeks. You felt Billy put his arm around your waist and rest his hand on your thigh, pulling you into him just slightly but allowing you to stay in Stu’s arm as well. The two passed the popcorn back and forth between each other as they, or really Stu for the most part, rambled on about different cinematic techniques the movie used and the landmarks the movie had made, all while you put your head on Stu’s shoulder. Your eyelids grew heavy and each time you blinked, you found yourself wanting to open them less and less.

You fell asleep like that, with your head on Stu’s shoulder as he rambled on about the movie, in the hold of your two favorite people in Woodsboro. And, as you drifted off, you decided there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Your hearing was the last to go as you faded out.

“Stu, shut the fuck up. You’re going to wake them up.”

“Am not!”

“Stu.”

“Fine, whatever man.” A pause. “G’night sweets.”

“Yeah, sleep well, babe.”

…And you were out.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Love

Summary: Buck shows up at Reader's house in the middle of the night and soon makes a confession that sparks joy in her heart.

TW/CW: Evan "Buck" Buckley x Reader, Fluff

Requested?: No

Word Count: 1,138

A/N: I finally started watching 911 again and here we are.

--- Your POV ---

I roll over in bed for the umpteenth time, still scrolling through TikTok. I pause the video for a second thinking I heard something. Holding my breath, I listen carefully. I hear a soft thud and a few footsteps which causes my heart to leap into my throat. As quietly as possible, I step out of bed and grab the baseball bat tucked between it and the side table. I carefully and quietly make my way to the kitchen, bat held high ready to strike. As I round the corner, the intruder jumps, “Woah, woah! (Y/N) it’s me! Don’t swing!” 

I drop the bat to my side and breathe a sigh of relief, “Buck? What the fuck are you doing here?!” I had given him a key to my apartment a while ago in case of emergencies but here lately, he has been using it just to come over and say hi or hang out when he couldn’t sleep. Even still, he usually lets me know ahead of time. 

He shrugs, “Been tossing and turning all night.” 

Still confused, I tilt my head, “No text? No call?” 

He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly turning around to tend to something he had brought with him, “I didn’t wanna wake you. I know you haven’t been sleeping well.” 

It occurs to me why he had turned around so abruptly, “I-I’m gonna go put pants on,” I stutter out, looking down at my oversized hoodie and lack of pants. 

As I turn to leave, he responds, “Y-yeah, I’m gonna... make some coffee.” I shuffle to my room and retrieve a pair of sweatpants before tugging them on. I throw my hair up in a messy bun as I shuffle back to the kitchen. Buck is watching the coffee pot fill up and there’s a bunch of Chinese food laid out on the island. 

Buck notices my reentry as I take a seat on a barstool, “We’re you hungry or something?” 

He looks over his shoulder at me, shrugging, “I couldn’t decide what I wanted and I figured you’d be hungry when you woke up.” 

“Speaking of waking up, I haven’t been able to sleep either,” I jump as a bolt of lightning emits a white light through the window and thunder crashes soon after, “because of that bullshit outside.” 

Buck turns around, handing me a mug of warm coffee, and nods, “Yeah, it’s been keeping me up too.” He makes his way over to my side and takes a seat on the other barstool. Together we consume nearly all of the buffet he brought and soon we’re plopping down onto the couch, having decided to watch a movie. As I’m scrolling through Netflix, I feel Buck’s eyes on me. 

I look over at him and he immediately turns his attention back to the screen. “What? Do I have food on my face or something?” I ask, turning back to the TV. 

“N-no,” he replies quietly. 

I toss the remote onto the coffee table, forgetting about the movie, and turn my body to face his, pulling my knees to my stomach and tucking my feet under me, “What’s wrong, Buckaroo?” 

He shrugs, “Just been thinking a lot lately.” 

“That’s a first for you. Don’t hurt yourself,” I tease with a giggle. 

He finally looks into my eyes with sadness etched into his features, “Too late.” 

My brows scrunch together and I frown, “What do you mean?” 

His gaze drops to his lap as he fiddles with his fingers, “I’ve caught feelings for someone but I’m almost positive they won’t feel the same way. Not to mention it’s not a good idea for me to date them; I don’t wanna risk them getting hurt.” 

I pat his shoulder, “Buck, Honey, Sweetheart,” he looks up at me, “First of all, you never know how someone feels unless you ask. Secondly, anybody would be insane to not feel the same and lucky to date you. Finally,” I place my hand on his forearm, “why do you think they’d get hurt just by being with you?” 

He ponders for a moment, “I mean, my job comes with risks. There might be a day where I don’t come home from work and she gets a knock on her door from the LAFD…” he trails off. 

“Buck, you can’t go through life afraid to do something just because you might die… When you love someone, you walk through life side by side no matter what might come,” I state gently, rubbing small circles into his arm with my thumb. 

He stares at his lap for a few silent minutes. Just as I take a breath, about to speak again, he takes my hand in his, “What if I’m scared of losing the friendship I already have with her because she might not feel the same?” 

I feel my cheeks heat up as he stares into my eyes. My heart skips a beat thinking he might actually be talking about me. I swallow those thoughts as I reply, “Buck, if she’s truly your friend, you won’t lose her. It’ll be something the two of you need to discuss thoroughly but if she values her friendship with you then I’d hope she’s smart enough to work it out.” 

He takes a deep breath, never breaking eye contact, “(Y/N), do you value our friendship enough to work it out if you don’t feel the same as I do?” 

I smile softly at him, trying not to get my hopes up, “Of course I do, Buck. I value our friendship above most things.” 

“(Y/N), I’m in love with you,” he blurts out, looking away to fiddle with the string of his hoodie this time. 

I place my hand on his cheek and nudge him to look at me. Upon making eye contact, I confess, “I’m in love with you too, Buck.” 

The smile that arches across his face is so bright even the flashing lightning outside couldn’t compare. He leans forward, placing his forehead against mine, closing his eyes, “Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?” I nod happily and he takes the opportunity to kiss me. Unfortunately, our sweet moment is short lived as thunder booms outside. 

I jump and glare at the window, “Way to ruin a good moment, Mother Nature.” 

Buck laughs, pulling my attention back to him, “I know you got beef with her and all but let’s just drown her out for once, yeah?” 

I nod and curl into his side as he retrieves the remote and begins scrolling through Netflix once more. I glance up to see a smile still plastered on his face, a smile that mirrors my own. When he first started talking, I was scared I was losing him but now he’s mine and together we’ll take on the world. 

More 911

Masterlist

[axailslink]

Bunny

Toxic! Riri Williams x poc FEM reader

Synopsis: After seeing you all buddy buddy with another ex Riri is fuming and takes it upon herself to pay you a visit.

Warning: out of character Riri Williams this is a toxic fic it wasn’t supposed to be but I let my hands guide me and turns out I like drama. Also there are some words that some might not be too fund of when it comes to the spicier scene.

Riri tries her best to control her breathing or calm her heart as it sets on fire from the inside of her chest it's like she can quite literally feel it being pulled out of place and squashed like a bug beneath a church shoe. It suffocates her and you would think that this would make her sad bring tears to her eyes, but it only warms her body as she almost gets the urge to go at you right then and there with every inch of hatred that swells in her bones seeing you with her it's like a candle that tipped and caught a curtain on fire and the more she stands here watching you smile, giggle and fucking he-he and ha-ha the more she wants to wring the neck of the newly reconnected "friendship" of someone who was supposed to be buried way in your pa- "Riri you good?" Riri glances at the person in front of her than her attention is back on you "30 dollars interest for being late on this payment. I sent you the work on time you send me the money on time or I continue to add interest.”

~

Riri has never been so worked up in her life what the hell could you be doing talking to someone who supposedly hurt you so much in the past? Her mind is so stumped she hasn't been able to focus on any of her studies and it's not as if she needs to, but it would calm her mind and soul if she could shit... and if she could do that it would stop her from making the commute to your apartment that's only fifteen minutes away from campus but due to her rage and focus seems to be more like eight. She does not hesitate to bang on your door as if she owns the damn place and you're quick to open your door because you do in fact pay the damn bills. You only blink when you open the door it may be your initial shock or the fact that you were in a very deep sleep and it's barely five in the morning... yeah it's definitely the latter. For a moment Riri wants to smile seeing you all cute in your worn-out tank top titty half out, bonnet slightly lopsided on your head and your lash stuck to your eyebrow but then she remembers seeing you all hugged up with miss whatever the fuck her name is and she's hot all over again. "No whatever it is come back tomorrow or a week from now I know you know it’s five in the morning I got class in a few hours I haven’t even gotten up to ru-“

“Is she better?” “Excuse me?” You’re rubbing your eyes now and fixing your clothes “who?” “The bi- ole girl I see you running around and laughing with recently” you’re racking your brain for a moment but then you realize Riri ain’t got no say who you hang with who you fuck who you kiss or who you’re bent over backwards for, so you suck in a sharp breath and force your next words through your teeth.

"I'm not yours" your words are hushed but there is no lack of confidence while speaking so she hears you just fine "oh" it's as if Riri has just been put back in her place easily too there's no yelling, cursing or fighting just simple to the heart words. Somehow your voice seems to be more confident than your true feelings because you can't help but question your own words "am I?" Riri bites her tongue as she looks at you now somehow without either of your knowledge you both seem to be getting closer in the moment and of course this is a dangerous game. You both broke up for a reason so why do you still have these feelings? Why do you still pine for each other? Why in heaven and hell do you want to kiss her right now?

Why are you allowing her to kiss down your neck? She approached you with all sorts of hostility but somehow, you're not saying anything about the current situation you find yourself in. No, you're tilting your head back and panting as if she's had you running on a leash without any sort of water Riri closes the door and she's somehow pushed you up against it in a gentle manner which is confusing because the tone she took with you only minutes ago was anything but gentle anything but soft and caring. It is insane how it differs from her actions. It truly is insane that she's leaving soft kisses down your chest now and you're allowing her to rid you of your clothes; first the pajama pants that were already oversized and barely hanging on your hips are gone then the tank top which seems to be proving a bit more difficult getting caught in your hair and snatching your lash off your face but eventually it's gone too.

Finally, there's no obstacle between you both no thick layer of clothing keeping either of you at bay she can touch you the way she wants.

Now that you're exposed to the cold air of your apartment her kisses have you feeling feverish every lick, nip and bite leaves behind a warmth cozy feeling which shoots down to your feet and back to your chest. Riri already has her confirmation but now she has a point to prove she has to prove that no one not a damned soul can make you laugh, giggle, or feel ascomfortable as she does.

Jealousy truly can be a beautiful thing sometime.

Riri works her way down your body she makes it her unspoken mission to kiss every inch of you she wants to touch your soul with her hands and lips. You're in such a frenzy you haven't noticed just how long she's been doing this she's gone from your neck traveled down your chest gave your nipples a gentle suck tongued her way down your abdomen kissed in-between your thighs and hugged them as she allowed the tip of her nose to gently tap what she won't rush to get to. Then she’s down your legs all around giving them the attention they deserve. The woman goes to your feet she is persistent on showing all of your body that you belong to her only her and no one else and she is doing a damn good job. Something so simple so soft so comforting should have no effect whatsoever on the rest of your body, right? Right? Wrong you can't help but spread your legs just the smallest bit as Riri runs her hands up them she's not willing to apologize for being an ass for coming to your home unannounced for playing with your feelings but she's willing to beg for you on her face. "Baby" Her saying that damn word has you wanting to do anything to shut her up, so you incase her between your legs and she's humming in contentment before she even begins to taste you.

You're holding onto the door handle for either your stability or your sanity as Riri glides her tongue across your slit teasing you but you're too impatient for her to be playing these types of games. "Ri" you breath out a warning makes her want to laugh how only a day ago you two were not on talking terms but now she's quite literally on her knees in front of you gripping your thigh like her life depends on it as she tongue fucks you trying to rip any sort of sound from your lips. Your moans and gasps just aren't enough. She stands in front of you again kissing you so passionately, needily. So hungrily and it stays that way as you wrap your leg around her, she's slow taking the silent offer upon chance as she trails her hand up your thigh and around the curve of your ass cupping it tightly bringing you close as if you weren't already a simple step away. She slips two fingers inside of you and you let a soft mewl escape your slightly parted lips humming in satisfaction she begins to gently caress your walls with just those two fingers

You want to cry as you hear a phone ring because please don’t let this stop not right now not yet. Riri pulls her hand away unbothered by its wetness as she answers the phone you whine in dissatisfaction but she gives your wet cunt a gentle tap ushering you to shush and be patient. As she takes the call her free hand continues caressing your thigh “baby it’s five in the morning what’s wrong?” Even though her hands are on you right now you can’t help but feel a sting in your chest as she speaks to “this” unknown caller “okay how about I bring you some breakfast and we watch movies til our first class? That sound good?” You want to be sad upset even but her hands sliding from around your thigh to your oh so sensitive clit proves to be a great distraction you can’t help but gasp out a moan. “Okay see you in thirty” she drops her phone on the floor and she’s quick to get up and press a harsh kiss against your lips before you can begin to ask questions or doubt what’s happening. “I gotta go” you look her dead in her eyes and laugh “you gotta go?” She doesn’t let you pull away even though she can see it in your eyes before you try “yes bunny I gotta go I’ll be back tonight what time you want me here?”

“I don’t want you here… shit ion think so..?” Riri sighs “eight? Seven? What you want to eat tacos? You know that food truck-“ you let her talk as you just sit and dwell for a moment on your couch “bunny? She’s baby and I’m bunny?” Riri watches you confusedly before saying “you said you’re not mine I’m simply abiding your wishes that’s what you want right? To not be mine… BUNNY it is.”

A/n: I know I’m trifling but I had fun with this it’s so out of character though but the fun was worth it and I probably won’t make a part 2.

[pretty-blkgirl]

Let Me Take Care Of You

//black!fem reader x idol!Chan//

Synopsis: You and your boyfriend love each other so much

Genre: fluff

Warnings: tiny bit suggestive towards the end, SICKENINGLY sweet fluff, reader is fem

A/N: I LOVE this so much, and I really wanted to make something sweet for our Channie. As you can see, the reader is described as a black female (but of course, anyone is welcome to read).

~~~~|~~~~

You walk into your house, immediately kicking your heels off and walking to your bedroom.

Your feet were hurting and your eyes were heavy after a long day of work. You wanted to jump right into bed and sleep for a hundred hours, but something caught your eye before you made it to your bed.

Chan, your boyfriend, sat at your large vanity mirror. His hair was in its naturally curly state, and you watched him twirl a piece of his hair while staring at himself.

He had been working hard for the newest comeback he and the group were about to have. He rarely gets time off, and his chances of a break get lower during the comeback season. However, he was able to get a few days off this time.

He hadn’t noticed you coming in, so you walked up to him and set your hands on his shoulders. He had a look of distress on his face.

“What’s wrong darling?” You ask, making him take his hand from his head.

“My hair… I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I love it how it is!” you smile, making him let out a shy laugh.

“It’s all..messy though? I feel like maybe I should straighten it or something?”

“If you want” you shrug, “But you know I can help you manage your curls though. All you gotta do is ask sweetheart”

A genuine smile formed on his face as he looked up at you, “I would love that”

You smiled back and leaned down to give him a small kiss on his nose.

You then stood up straight again, looking at your boyfriend and taking in all his beauty.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

He blushes, “I should be telling you that. I still don’t know how I got so lucky”

“I’m the lucky one”

“Bullshit. Have you met you?”

You chuckle as he stands and takes you into his arms. He lets out a loud sigh, relaxing in your hold and tucking his face in your neck.

“How was work?” His question is muffled, but you still make out what he’s saying. He asks the same question every day, but you never get tired of it. You know he just wants to hear about your day, and it makes you happy to know he listens to you.

“It was fine. I did argue with Jessica today though”

“Fuck that bitch” He says bluntly. You laugh out loud which launches you both into hysterics.

After a long while of laughter, you walk to the bed and lie down.

“I’m exhausted,” You say, “I just wanna sleep”

“You haven’t eaten yet, though. Let me make you some food”

“No” You protest, sitting up and looking down at him, “You’ve been so stressed from work, and you finally have a day off. Let me take care of you”

“You’ve been stressed out too though. And that bitch Jessica is making things worse”

You laugh again as he sits up to grab your hands.

You stare at his face, again relishing in his beauty.

Everything was so perfect about him. His pretty, brown eyes. His gorgeous nose. His deep dimple that sits on the right side of his face. His perfect, pink, plush lips.

But besides his beauty, you loved his personality. He was so sweet and caring- not just to you- but to everyone he met. He treated you like a princess, making sure to pay attention to your needs and wants.

He went above and beyond to ensure your comfort, well-being, and happiness.

You took care of him too, giving him unconditional love and support. You loved taking care of him because he was so busy taking care of everyone else. Chan was willing to lack if that meant the people he loved had everything they needed.

He didn’t want the people he loved to worry about him- you especially.

But, you always worried about him. You always wanted him to be happy and healthy. You always checked in on your man to make sure he didn’t overwork himself.

If he is in a bad mental state, you would go straight to his studio and pull him out by the hair if you needed to. You loved him too much to see him hurt himself.

All in all, you two were the best couple. You both were amazing together. You knew he was your life partner, and you couldn’t wait to experience every moment -good or bad- with him.

“Baby?” He asked, making you snap out of your thoughts.

“Sorry honey, what were you saying?”

“You were staring so hard” He giggles, “I seen your pupils dilate too, that means you loveeeeee me”

You roll your eyes to try and hide your embarrassment, but Chan notices and starts to tease you more.

“You loveeee meeee, you wanna kiss meeeeee” He sings, making you cover your face.

“Hush!” You groan, taking your hands out your face, “What were you saying?”

He wants to keep teasing but he stops and takes your hands back into his

“I just wanted to say that you should let me take care of you. Let me pamper you.”

You smile, “You already do that bae”

“Yeah but I haven’t been doing it lately”

“Cuz you’ve been working! It’s comeback season”

You take your hands back and hug him, startling him a little bit, but it takes him no time to melt into the hug.

“How about we take care of each other? You can make dinner and I’ll draw us a bath afterward”

“Only if you let me give you a massage when we get back to bed”

You smirk and pull away to look at him, already seeing the mischievous look on his face

“A massage? That’s all you wanna do?”

“I mean, if it leads to something more then….” He shrugs and you playfully hit his chest.

You both get up and he goes to cook while you strip out of your work clothes and put on a T-shirt and some shorts. You then go to the mirror and take your hair down, rubbing at your scalp before grabbing your brush and gel to slick your hair back down.

After a little while, you achieve the perfect slick back puff and do your edges. You go on to grab your scarf and put it on to make sure your hair stays slicked down.

You rush to wipe your makeup off, then run to the kitchen to bother Chan while he cooks.

But he’s not annoyed by you, he only falls more in love.

[arkhamknightz]

LABYRINTH

summary: after a bad relationship, you didnt expect to meet evan, who somehow turns your entire life around.

warning: shitty writing, lowercase intended.

you’d been terrified, allowing another relationship into your life, fearful of how something that barely started would end. your last partner had broken up with you abruptly, hardly any words being exchanged after the matter, 2 years gone within the blink of an eye.

evan was kind, he never pushed the idea of dating onto you, allowing the relationship to come naturally. the conversation had come up on your first official date, about how you didn’t wanna rush into a new relationship. your nerves slowly disappeared from your body as he laughed, “well there goes my proposal plan!” you smiled, a small laugh leaving your mouth before he quickly assured you he was absolutely okay with taking things slow for you.

you were sat on the carpet with him, it had been a few months into your new relationship. you had been over at evan’s house more often than your own. it had been his laundry day. rather than folding clothes on the bed together, you both settled for the floor. a movie was quietly playing in the background. it felt scarily domestic, you hadn’t noticed you spaced out until you felt his hand over yours.

“you okay sweetheart?” you looked over at him, a small smile growing on your face as you took in his worried expression. “im okay, just thinking.” he softly nodded, pressing a small kiss to your forehead before going back to folding clothes. there was something about his expression, something about how concerned he looked that made your heart feel warm.

you had met him 2 months after your breakup. it hurt more than you like to admit, it was tough, the heartbreak was suffocating. you shared a lot of your life with your ex partner, it felt like you would never be able to get over them before you met evan. you had been cautious, the amount of trust you had for him scared you sometimes.

but being with him felt different. you felt safe, and secure. but security was something you never expected this early on, but every inch of him started to feel like home. oh no. i’m falling in love. you quickly shook the thought away, finishing the rest of the clothes. “im gonna go put these away okay baby?” he pulled his eyes away from the movie looked at you, softly smiling and nodding. “thank you sweetheart. ill clean up here okay?”

you grabbed a stack of his clothes, getting up and opening his drawers, neatly placing them down in their correct places. you heard him shuffling around behind you, quickly getting lost in your own thoughts again as you put his clothes away.

there are a lot of things you love like about evan. his kind soul and the way he always found a way to put you before himself. his dedication to his work, how he would do anything to make you smile on a bad day. he understood you better than most people, you appreciated how he held you when you cried. how for a few days after he would reassure you its okay to still be upset, how you didn’t have to bounce back to pretending to be okay around him if you weren’t.

you finished putting the clothes away, placing the small pile of the clothes you leave over at his house in your own small portion of his closet. he promised to make more room if you ever needed it. the small thought making you smile. you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his face making its way to leave a small kiss on your neck. “you ready for bed baby?” you nodded, turning around and wrapping your arms around his waist. “can we make tea before bed? i haven’t been able to sleep very well, maybe it’ll help?”

a small frown made its way onto his face, “sweetheart why didn’t you say something sooner? ill make you tea, go get ready for bed” he smiled down at you and gave you a small kiss, leaving the room. you got ready for bed, laying down on whats became your side of the bed as he walked in with a cup of tea, gently placing it on the nightstand next to you. “wait a few minutes, its still hot”

you smiled. “thank you love” you plugged your phone in as he got into bed next to you, instinctively you huddled your body next to his side, his arm wrapping around you as he unpaused the movie you were both watching. you looked up at him, the words leaving your mouth faster than you could comprehend. “i think i love you.” he turned his head, looking over at you. a small smile grew on his face as he opened his mouth. “yeah?” you nodded, the smile on your face matching his. “yeah.” he softly kissed you, resting his forehead against yours as he pulled away. “i think i love you too.”

i thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?

[drsuessrhymelord]

My bones have been hurting for years master post. Shot in the dark to the chronic illness side of tumblr, maybe someone here can point me in a direction that “X” amount of doctors haven’t. I have always been so quick hide or pretend my pain wasn’t there/as bad as it was, even when at times I was in so much pain I had a hard time moving, I’m now trying to figure out how heal/live with whatever this is.

I am in pain most all the time, I am exhausted all of the time, I have a very hard time sleeping/resting. Walking hurts, standing hurts, sitting hurts. I hardly eat due to no appetite/digestive issues and severe (SEVERE) stomach pain. My ankles, legs, and knees hurt whenever I lay down. My right hip/sciatica hurts when I walk. My lower back is a wreck (no cartilage between bottom two vertebrate) and sometimes causes so much pain I can’t walk in my own. There’s constant muscle ache in my whole back, neck, and shoulders. My forearms, wrists, and hands ache constantly, and sometimes get worse with applying pressure, gripping, or cracking knuckles.

With all of this, I am extremely athletic, I coach parkour and in college could have moved forward with playing professional ultimate frisbee. My body has always been able to do far more than it looks like it should be able to do in a 5’7 frame (strength, agility, vertical, dexterity) and I love being able to do these things; however, it’s gotten to a point where though I can still do all of these things, the toll it takes on my body just isn’t worth it, which has taken a huge toll on my already unwell mental health (depression, anxiety, suicidal tendencies).

Even if it’s just a chronic fatigue/pain syndrome or something, I just want to try to figure out what’s happening to my body, so I can learn to live with them. I’ve had Lyme, I tested positive for indicators for lupus, but after a rheumatologist appointment and more testing my doctor said she could confidently rule that out. She suggested the possibility of a hypermobility or connective tissue disorder, and I have very little resources for that where I am, but will be exhausting what I have. (Doesn’t seem to be consistent with EDS)

I just don’t know what to do anymore, and I’m hoping maybe a random online stranger might empathize with some of what I deal with and maybe have some tips or direction. Interaction and DM’s are welcomed

[vodika-vibes]

I hit a bumpy road in my personal relationship. Could I get a soft Boss?

Exhaustion

Summary: Boss has been on a mission for a month, but he's home now.

Pairing: Clone Commando Boss x Reader

Word Count: 810

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm sorry that you're having a rough patch, I hope this helps even a little bit!

You heave out a sigh as you toss and turn in your bed.

Normally, you don’t have a problem sleeping. Even when Boss is away, but for some reason, tonight, sleep is just eluding you. Of course, Boss has been away for the better part of a month at this point, so maybe that has something to do with it.

You flip around on your bed for several minutes longer, and then you flop onto your back and release a sigh of frustration. 

This isn’t working. 

You kick your blankets to the end of the bed, and sit up. If you’re not going to sleep, you might as well get up and do something. Well, nothing too loud, so cleaning and laundry are out, but maybe you can catch up on your trash TV.

That way you’ll at least have some entertainment while your brain refuses to rest.

You swing your legs off the bed, and silently pad down the dark halls, not bothering with lights until you reach the living room. You turn the lamp on with a touch of your finger, and fold yourself onto the couch, tugging a fleece blanket over your bare legs, and you grab the remote as you flip through the channels.

At this time of night, most everything is infomercials, though you do find a station showing the latest blockbuster movies, and that’s the one you settle on. You don’t expect them to be terribly good (why would they show good movies at 2 am?) but it’s better than nothing.

About half an hour later, you hear the familiar sound of someone keying in your door code, and the sound of the door whooshing open, and then closed again. There’s no noise, or movement, for a moment, and then you hear heavy footsteps walking down the hall.

Boss stops in the doorway leading into the living room, he’s still dressed in his armor, though he has at least taken his helmet off, and he looks surprised to see you awake. Of course, you’re just as surprised to see him, you haven’t expected him back for another couple of weeks.

“Boss!” You say with a blinding smile as you scramble off the couch to run over to him. 

“Why are you still awake, little love?” Boss asks quietly, even as he opens his arms to accept your hug.

You fling yourself into his arms, carefully though as to not hurt yourself against his armor, and you bury your face in his neck. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you decided to stay awake and watch bad movies at 2:30 in the morning?” Boss asks, a hint of judgment in his voice.

You pout at him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but that’s not an answer to my question.” A small smile crosses his face as he notices your fingers moving to the seals of his armor, starting to pop the seals to help him out of the armor.

“I thought maybe I would fall asleep to the movie,” You explain.

“And how’s that going?”

“Very poorly.”

“Hm,” Boss smiles at you, soft and warm, before he leans in and catches your lips in a deep kiss, “Let me get out of this, and then we can curl up in bed together.”

“You don’t need a shower?”

“I showered at base,” Boss explains as he lightly bats your hands away from him, and he removes his armor with a methodical swiftness that you would never be able to replicate. “I was gross.” He adds.

“I’m sure you weren’t.” You say loyally.

“Oh, I was.” He sets his armor on the couch, to be dealt with at a time that isn’t 2 in the morning, and he lightly sets his hand on your hips, “Alright, cyare, time for bed.”

“But I’m not tired.” You whine.

“But I am, and I want to cuddle with you.” Boss replies with a small smirk.

“Oh.” You blink at him, and then you grin and take his hand and tig him towards the bedroom, “That changes things.”

“I thought it might,” Boss agrees with a laugh as he allows you to tug him towards the bedroom. He only pulls his hand away from you for long enough to peel off his shirt, and to toss it in the laundry, and then he’s laying in bed, with you pressed up against him, your head resting on his chest.

Boss lightly strokes your head, and down your spine, glad to have you back in his arms after being away for so long. “Love you, cyare.” He murmurs, his eyes closing in exhaustion.

“Love you too,” You murmur as you press a kiss just over his heart.

Boss is warm and his heartbeat is steady in your ear, and slowly you drift off to sleep. Which was his plan from the beginning.

[igotanidea]

Growing up : Jason Todd x fem!reader

A/N: the reader vigilante name is Ego (messing with people heads, but not like a metahuman, she just has natural psychological talents). Previously named Cheshire (I realised that there already was a character named like that a bit too late and had to fix it - Ego is the story about it)

Other parts of this verse: Cheshire cat, That damn gala, Five years later, Tired, Benched (not necesarilly in that order, but Five years later is previous to Tired)

***

I was so, so, soooo tired my eyes were simply closing themselves without any involvement from my part.

I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Guess it had something to do with my broken and casted right leg. According to the doctor it's been healnng perfectly and the aching and itching that prevented my night rest was the first example of it. Maybe, but I still hated it. Over six weeks ago I had an accident during patrolling. Silly, rookie mistake got me falling down and before I was able to regain my balance I found myself lower.

Three floors lower.

It was a miracle I only ended up with broken leg. I mean, a little bit more impact and I would end up with damaged spinal cord, paralyzed for life, unable to move a single muscle from the neck down.  However, at the moment everyone who were fighting besides me held their breaths.

6 weeks ago

“EGO!” I heard Oracle yell through the comm. Honestly, her voice would bring the dead from behind the grave.

“Damn it!” Dick hissed and without any hesitation ditched his opponent and rushed to check up on me, doubling on my pain and guilt. I screwed up and now, the team was paying the price. Nonetheless he did not seem to care when he landed next to me in his swiftly, acrobat-like way.

“Stop showing off” I rolled my eyes, grabbing the leg “It’s not that kind of circus.”

“One thing for sure, your tongue wasn’t damaged during the fall. Where does it hurt?”

“Knee.”

“Show me.”

“It’s not that bad….” I tried to move away from his hands and it made me squeal in pain.

“Y/N.”

“Red card, Nightwing. You broke the “no real names” rule of Batman. You’re off the field.”

“Stop it.” He said, so calmly that it really did make me hold back my words. “Let me help you.”

“Ok.” I muttered looking down, letting him check on my limb.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but anyway, I need to get you out of here. It’s dangerous for you to stay any more than necessary. Anyone could get to you in this weakened state.”

“That’s the sentence I haven’t heard …. ever I think. Up till now, it was hazardous for criminals to meet me, not the other way round.”

“There’s a first time for anything, I guess” he shrugged. Oh, how I hoped Oracle got that on her record. I was so going to use his own words against him in the future “can you try to help me lift you up?”

“Sure. I think” I leaned onto the left, unharmed leg, that was supposed to bear my weight, but the second Dick held his hands towards me to support my efforts, we both heard a loud snap and I couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. If it wasn’t for Dick I would fall again and as an addition to the leg injury would also get some bruises and cuts on the face. “FUCK! I think it’s broken now.”

“Both of you are getting home. Immediately. You better get her here without any more bodily harm or we will have to deal not only with disappointed Bruce, but also with enraged Jason.”

***

“I’m sorry Dick. I really am.” Half an hour later I was sitting on the examination couch, my leg splayed in front of me, while Babs was scanning it and using all of her cutting-edge tech to assess the injury.

“Could you just stop it? WE missed a chance, not the first time and definitely not the last one. This guy we were chasing tonight were not even that important and we will get to him this week, I’m sure of it. You just made a mistake, which frankly speaking wasn’t even yours.”

“What?” I shifted a bit to face him and the change in angle made me gasp in sudden piercing pain.

“Don’t move!” Babs hissed and I smiled apologetically, my eyes still on Dick.

“What do you mean it wasn’t my mistake?”

“I had it all calculated, you know. He was going for that punch, you were in perfect distance so you could get to him, but when I took a swing he used this as a leverage to turn and push you with right hand, not the left I was aiming at.”

“Thanks for the clarification, Dick. But I still take a bit of the blame. After all I was the one who slipped a bit. Damn those shoes need fixing.”

“You won’t be needing them for a while, Y/N” Babs muttered “you have a  disjointed kneecap and a fracture in your  shinbone.”

“Shit.” I rubbed my forehead in frustration. “How long?”

“Tim has better experience in the medical field, but …..”

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud, Babs” Dick couldn’t help but let out a laugh and met with our angered gaze “Sorry girls, but this is funny…. Isn’t it….? Ok, all right! Stop giving me this murderous look of yours! I surrender!”

“I think you’ll be excluded for something around 6 weeks.”

“6 weeks?! Can I get a second opinion?”

“From Tim?”

“Will do. Hope he, Damian and Bruce had more effective patrol in their part of Gotham. ….. Wait, you didn’t tell them what happened, did you?”

“Of course not.” Barbara scoffed and fixed the strand of hair that was falling in her eyes. “But I’m pretty sure they already know.”

“How?”

“Um….”

 “Babs!?”

“I might have used the open channel while talking to you…..”

“So, everyone knows?” Dick jumped from his chair and came closer to us “like… the entire family ?”

“ I’m afraid so.”

“You know what guys? It makes me feel so much better that you two make rookie mistakes as well.” For the first time this night I grinned happily.

***

“It was a simple task. In and out. No obstacles. No complications. No intruders.” Bruce with his most stern expression was haranguing us, like we were some newbies in the vigilante business. Like he never did anything wrong while fighting. I mean, I’m sorry, let me recall this statement. Of course, he never made any mistake. He was the Batman.  “Could you tell me, what went down there, that now one of you is about to be put in the cast and the other is pacing around my cave?”

“Sorry, Bruce, I’m just overly excited because of the fact Y/N won’t be able to run away from my surprise hugs for a while” Dick grinned and his statement made me curse under my nose.

“What happened there? And focus on the facts.” Bruce sighed and his face dropped a bit.

“I’m not really sure.” I tapped my chin “What do you think, Dick? What happened there?”

“I thought you hurt your leg, not your brain?”

“Side effect, I suppose.”

“That’s a shame.”

“I’m just giving you the opportunity to come up with a reliable story before Jay gets here and tear the batcave down in his fit of anger.”

“Fair point.” Dick nodded “how about this: a ninja came out of nowhere…..”

“A ninja?” both me and Bruce asked in unison, his voice desperate, mine incredulous of his idea.

“What? I hate ninjas.” Dick shrugged

“We know.” we both retorted together once again.

“I’ll just tell him I ditched you on the field and tripped while returning to the manor. I like this rebellious strike this story gives me. You know, that whole I don’t give a fuck attitude.” I chimed in before Dick could develop his idea further.

“Oh, he will never believe that you left me alone.”

“And why exactly not?”

“’Cause everyone knows you have a soft spot for me, Y/n. You wouldn’t endanger my health and life this way. It’s simply improbable.” His smile was so ridiculously confident it made me question my sanity.

“In your dreams, Grayson. “

***

With some help I was transported to my room, while I had to wait for the family doctor, Jonah Hill to come and put me in the cast. The thought of being benched for so long made me feel like vomiting. Up to that I was still wondering why the hell all the Waynes, including Cass and Steph were now back from the patrol and the person I needed most was out of reach. It made me worried and spinning into belief something might have happened to him. Luckily, Tim was there to keep me company.

“How are you doing, Ego?”

“I’m about to be crippled, can you imagine?” I rolled my eyes and Tim pursed his lips “Sorry, Tim, I didn’t mean to be harsh. I need to switch the mode from the one tuned onto your older brothers to the one tuned on you.”

“How is that different?” he asked sitting on the edge of the bed.

“With Dick, it sometimes feels like he see the little girl in me and I have to prove that I’m a grown up, capable of handling myself. With Jason, you know, we tease each other, we bicker and spite but it’s just a common sense of dark humor we both understand and that brings us closer. With you, I can be more sensitive, withdraw for a while without thinking I’m losing, drop all the pretenses.  I think out of everyone in this family you are the most insightful and I really, really like that, Tim. You might be the only one that brings some sense of peace to the Waynes. ” I smiled

“Thank you y/n/n.”

“You see, that’s consciously used nickname. I haven’t heard it in a while.”

“Just had a feeling it might lift your spirit.” He squeezed my hand lightly and I reciprocated.

“It did. Thank you too.”

“Y/n. Tim.” a male voice reverberated from the entrance.

“Morning, doctor.” Tim nodded in acknowledgement.

“Hi, Jonah” I smiled. He might have been an esteemed doctor etc., but he was dealing with this family for way too long to use his title. He has seen many, many injuries of Dick, Jason and mine, some more embarrassing then others, never knowing the real stories behind getting them. I mean, of course, no one ever told him we were Gotham’s vigilantes. Besides, he was at the same age as Dick, so I treated him like a friend, rather than someone who I should keep distance from. Even if he wanted more and was very clear about it in the past. Before me and Jay got together.

“What happened this time?” Jonah smirked

“Not much. Just casual broken leg.”

“Out of everyone I met in my practice you are excelling when it comes to self-distance. And you are a Wayne.”

“I was never legally adopted.” I pointed out.

“But you were raised by Wayne. With all the respect he’s not the one to joke about himself.”

“Can’t blame him for that” Tim muttered obviously referring to the part of our life Jonah had no idea about. “I’ll leave you two to it. I believe you are in good hands Y/n and …..”

“Can’t you be my emotional support here, Timmy?” I whined eyeing him with doe eyes. Maybe, subconsciously I didn’t want to be alone with Jonah. He still had that unintelligible tendency to flirt with me. Directly. Even if he knew I was with Jay. (speaking of the devil, I was still wondering what the hell was with him.) “Please?” this sounded more desperate than intended  but it was hard to give the air to the handsome doctor who I was not interested in but with who I had to keep good relationship. For the sake of the family and our health of course.

“Y/N?” Before Tim was able to answer Damian peeked through the half-open door. This little demon. Ever since he arrived at the Wayne Manor he had learn so much about people, emotions and relationships. Thanks to his natural intelligence he quickly figured out why I was acting strange around some family friends  and felt the need to keep me safe from any intrusion. Much to Jay’s annoyance since the red bat felt like his brother was stealing his job from him. What was even better about Damian was that he developed the ability to switch between his assassin, cold, sneaky self and the charming, innocent, youngest member of the family. And now, using his softest voice he was asking permission to come in and accompany me in the medical procedure. He looked almost sweet. Only Tim and I noticed the murderous glint in his eyes. He wanted to watch over me, rather than expand his knowledge.

“Come on in, Damian. I bet dr. Hill has nothing against your presence here, isn’t it right, Jonah?”

“Um… I…..” the MD stuttered and that gave away the fact that he was in fact going to flirt with me again and Damian just got in the way.

“See, Dami. Told you. “ I smiled and patted a spot next to me on the bed “You can even take a place here if you’d like.”

“Mhm. I think I’d like that.” He smiled, but this time it was more predatory then before “I could observe carefully.” And with those words, he jumped on the bed.

I really loved this silent connection with Damian. We never needed any words to communicate. It was extremely hard to get to him at the beggining, but unlike everyone else, who was approaching him with caution and gentleness I never did it. He was an assasin. He was dangerous, sometimes. He was harsh and extremely direct in his opinions. But that was what I liked about him. And while everyone focused on showing him the meaning of friendship and family, introducing Dami to the other part of life, he never knew about, I was rather concentrated on proving to him that all the traits he possesed that people assumed were bad could actually be used for his benefit. I think that was why in time we developed pretty strong bond.

***

“I think that would be it….” a while later Jonah finished his work and started gathering  utensils, almost shaking under Damian’s predatory gaze. He did not have enough time to get used to the little Wayne.

“You can ease up, now.” I whispered when the doctor turned around “I think you scared him enough. And besides, he’s leaving now.”

“Whatever.” Dami shrugged but eased up his glare. A bit.

“I guess I’ll see you in two weeks, Y/N. Just to make sure everything goes in the right direction with healing.”

“Sure. You know I appreciate your care Jonah. We all do, right Dami?”

“Sure.” the boy crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes

“I… um… I’m gonna go now. I know the way, no need to see me out and …..”

“Where is she?!” of course Jason chose this moment to burst through the door and immediately collided with the other man “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Dr. Hill came to provide medical attention, Jason. Which I desperately needed.” I explained in the low voice, accenting some parts of the sentence just to spite my boyfriend further.

“I was just leaving.” Jonah stuttered. Guess he still remembered his last confrontation with my jealous boyfriend. To tell the truth, I remembered it too - the aftermath were quite pleasurable, Jay made sure of that.

“Good for you” Jason hissed “farewell, doctor. Now, off you go too, demon. I need Y/N for myself.”

“Are you sure she wants it?” Damian stood up in front of Jay, the height and posture difference being so comical I couldn’t help a single laugh.

“Pretty positive.”

“Why don’t we ask her then? Y/N, do you want Todd to stay?”

“Hm. I’m not sure…..” I tapped my chin thoughtfully

“WHAT?! How can you not be….?!”

“You are late, Jay. How does the saying goes? You snooze you lose?” Damian smirked upon my words.

“Y/N!” Jason exclaimed.

“Oh, and now you are yelling at me.” I pouted “And I’m severely injured. And in extreme pain. This is just so… so…. “ I sobbed in a phony matter “… unfair….”

“Oh, come on….” he gasped and threw hands in the air in desperation “this is way too dramatic for you.”

“Yeah, you’re right” I dropped the theatrics immediately. It was no fun pretending when he already knew I was doing it. “I’ll be fine, Dami. You can go. Thanks for staying though, it was funny observing Jonah so intimidated.”

“If you need anything......”

“Don’t worry, demon. I got her covered.” Jace practically pushed Damian out the door and closed it tightly. “He’s a menace.”

“He’s… intense. But we both know he is a good boy, Jace.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He shrugged standing in place. Oh, the war of nerves he was waging against me. Of course, he was not going to show any care. At least not in the beginning. But I wasn’t going to relent. If he wanted teasing, teasing he would get.

“Guess I’ll be benched for a while.” I pointed towards my leg “and that means Jonah will be coming here to check on me. I wonder if he’s going to be as friendly as usually when he gets me alone.”

“Stop saying his name!” he hissed and fell onto the bed next to me, cupping my cheek. Unlike his harsh voice, the touch was so gentle caring and loving. “Stop talking about him. I hate that guy. He almost stole you from me.” He moved closer, leaning his forehead on mine and then he realized “You did this on purpose didn’t you, my girl?” 

“Of course. But I love how it turned out.” I stretched my arms and locked them around his neck pulling him closer. “Hi, Jace.”

“Hi, baby.” He pecked my lips chastely and rubbed my sides carefully “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll survive. If anything I would die out of boredom in the next weeks.”

“We’ll figure something to keep you entertained.”

“Like helping Babs in her woman in the chair position?”

“For starters. You will get to see me in action on the big screen, how does that sound?”

“I’ll make a crack video.” I laughed at him and he frowned “Hey, don’t be mad, Jay.” I laid my head on his shoulder and he exhaled deeply, playing with the strand of my hair.

“I could never be mad at you.”

“Is that a challenge?” I sneaked a peek at him.

“Ok, stop it now. I’m trying to be thoughtful and caring here. You’re ruining the moment.”

“Sorry. Guess I have tendency to push the point.” I sighed and felt his arms wrap tighter around me. It must have been hard and uncomfortable to hold me like this, with my leg outstretched but he did not complain. “What took you so long? Are you all right, Jaybird?”

“I’m good. Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, baby, I played a vital part in the ambush for the …..”

“ I know. I knew the plan we were executing. I was just worried and the crazy thoughts kept creeping in and ..... ”

“Hey. Stop spiraling. It's about you, not me.” he pulled away “look at me” I followed and once again our gazes met, making me melt. Jason was stubborn like a mule, ironic, impenetrable, acting like an edgelord towards everyone and keeping his distance. But when someone (like me) was persistent enough to get through, all the good things inside him were enough to cover up for the worse ones. Now, he was looking at me with so much love, attention and care it was indescribable ”I love you.” he whispered slowly, eyes never leaving mine and tears started falling down my cheeks. Guess we both sucked when it came to good emotions. 

“I love you too Jason. So freaking much. Please, don’t leave me now.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. But you need rest. Your body needs rest. Let it have it. I’ll keep you safe.”

“From who?” I laughed and he followed.

“Anyone.” Jason answered kissing the top of my head. “You do realize you will have to stay in the manor until you heal, right?”   

“Look who’s ruining the moment now.”

***

Third person POV

10 hours later.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Dick hissed when he saw Y/N walking around in the batcave “You are injured!”

“It’s not an excuse for being lazy.”

“I swear you are getting worse than Tim. You need rest!”’

“Mhm, sure, someone told me that before. I think I got enough sleep for a lifetime. And now….”

“Do you want me to call upon Damian?”

“I don’t think he respects you enough to come upon a call. He wouldn’t listen. Besides, what would he do?”

“Do you want me to call Jason?”

“Getting desperate here, Dickie?”

“Y/N.”

“What? I just… I want to help you guys. It’s 9 p.m., normally I would be preparing for patrolling and my body just falls into this pattern, adrenaline kicking in. I won’t be able to stay here doing nothing.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Sure. Remember what happened last time you said it?”

“Care to remind me?”

“You got shot!”

“Minor inconvenience. And it healed fast.”

“I swear everyone in this family is insane.” She turned around to the extend her cast allowed her and threw hands in the air dramatically.

“You included?”

“Of course me included. It comes with even standing close to you or Bruce. You are like a disease.”

“You’re my favorite too, Y/N. Now go. The hell. Upstairs.

***

She swore she won’t be able to fall asleep, but her organism knew better. Or rather Jason knew better. When he saw her limping up the stairs, he just breezily, yet mindful of the leg picked her up and tucked in the bed.

“I hate it!” she pouted trying to get out again.

“Don’t even think about it” Jason warned.

“I’m not thinking, I’m simply doing.” she threw the blanket away but Jason was quick to take action.

“The hell you are.” taking her by surprise he laid in the bed next to her, putting an arm around her, nailing her to the mattress. “I’m not letting you out.”

“So what, now I’m a prisoner?” she shifted only to lay on the side and face him.  

“Am I a punishment for you? Is that what you are saying?”

“No” she sighed “this shit on my leg is.”

“I should really kick the ass of the one responsible for letting it happen.”

“That would be me, Jay.” She pointed out “Are you really ready to fight me?”

“We’ll spar after you get back to full health.”

“I’ll hold you to this word.” she smiled lightly “You know, I like it when you’re here, next to me…. Maybe I should not let you go.” Her hand travelled up his muscled arm and then down, tracing all the scars and cuts, relishing in his presence and this little moment of peace and open vulnerability. “Not that I hold such power over you, of course.”

“Sure not. You’re getting a bit too cocky here, sweetheart.”

“Hm.” She muttered “Can I at least keep you until it’s time to go?”

“I think I can manage that. But since we got only like an hour left, how about I compensate for it by bringing you closer to me?”

“I think I can manage that” she whispered and hummed softly when his hands found her waist pulling her in and shifting positions so that he was lying on his back and her head landed on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The fact that they didn’t need any words to fill in the silence was the perfect indicator of how they felt about each other. Much to her displeasure she slowly started drifting off, lulled by Jason’s touch and gentling, his warmth and safety she felt with him. “Come back to me in one piece….” She muttered before the sleep enveloped her fully.

***

It was so damn hard to leave her and Jason’s heart ached at the simple thought of being forced to wriggle out of her embrace. Said hour later, Y/N was deeply asleep next to him, her warm, soft body being the sweetest weight he could imagine. Only now he realized he would have to go through the entire night without being able to hear her bickering through the comms and it made him shiver. She was probably the only one to understand his wicked sense of humor and help him keep his cool and remnants of level – headedness without falling back into the killing and violence with which he acted right after the pit. He loved her. He would give her everything and yet, she would settle for anything from him. She always claimed that his protectiveness was welcomed but not necessary. She didn't need his action, she needed him, his presence, time and soul. It was hard to comprehend at the begginig, but he was slowly learning how to love and be loved fully.

Jason closed his eyes, feeling her breathe calmly next to him. She was right, it’s been a while since they have been this peaceful and this close together and he hated the thought of being forced to break it. But she would understand. After all, she was a vigilante as well, familiar with the night patrols. And she would never ask him to stay back just for her whim.

Involuntarily, reluctantly, he started moving, the coldness of the air immediately replacing the softness and happiness he felt with her. Y/N whined quietly and adjusted her sleeping position to his absence, her hair falling straight onto her face due to the movement. Jason smiled, tucking them over her ear and caressing her cheek, which made the girl lean into the touch.

“Enough.” He had to bring himself upright. One more touch or kiss and he would forget about Gotham, patrols, missions and his entire family and lie down next to her again. She thought being benched would be hard for her, and yet never realized how much he would struggle through it.  

***   

“Babs…..” Y/N limped into the cave, dressed in Jay's hoodie and rubbing her eyes.

“Rough night?” the red haired girl turned from the computer, facing her younger friend.

“Something like that. I had a nightmare.”

“About? If you want to talk about it of course.“

“Nothing explicit” Y/N shrugged and perched on the edge of the desk “mission going wrong, people getting hurt…. the usual stuff.”

“You need something to keep your mind busy?”

“Yes, please. What do I do?”

“You have some tech skills, so you can be the one to walk boys through the patrol tonight” Babs smirked

“You want me to take your place?”

“Not fully. I’m not quitting my job just yet. But you can be the support. From what I see Red Hood has been unusually violent today and someone needs to pacify this one.”

“I’m not sure if it’s good idea for me to do it.” Y/N hesitated, picking her fingernails.

“And why exactly not?” Barbara frowned and eyed Y/N carefully “you’re working together on a daily basis. You are a couple. You know how to get to him.”

“I…. I don’t want to, Babs.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s out there and I’m here. If anything happened I won’t be able to rush for help and…..”

“You’re worried.” Babs stated

“Maybe. But please, don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I promise. And believe me, I get it. When I was forced to hang the mantle of batgirl and Dick was out on the streets, I felt the exact same thing. But it’s just something you learn it time in relationship. You learn to let go of  your own fear for the benefit of the other person. You have to learn it or it will consume you and eventually lead to fights and misunderstandings.”

“Can you help me with it, Babs? I… I really don’t want to mess up what I have with Jay.”

“Sure y/n. I’ll help you. And I’ll make sure Dick have the same conversation with your boy.”

“I don’t…..”

“Hey, relax. It would be just brotherly talk. Jace is a prick but he loves you. But love needs to be mature. And he’s not there yet, sometimes he acts too emotional for the sake of both of you. I only do it because I care about you.”

“Thank you, Babs.”

"What are friends for?" Barbara nodded and would probably add something more if it wasn’t for the voice coming out of the speakers.

“Oracle, are you there? Why aren’t you responding?”

“I’ve just had important conversation with Ego, Nightwing.”

“About what?”

“Emotions. And you won’t like what I will ask you to do after you get back from patrol."

"Given our history together I think nothing can surprise me anymore."

"I'm sorry, is anyone working there? I need some intel!"

"Polite as usual, Red." Babs hissed "And in fact...." she glanced at me "I'm taking a night off."

"Whatever. I'll just handle myself then."

"Ego will guide you tonight." Babs smirked and I mentally facepalmed. She was so much like Dick at times.

"I hate you" I muttered but took her place in front of the screen "Hello Hood. Guess I won again. You are condemned to my advice."

"I think this is going to be an interesting night then, Ego."

"Oracle! Get Ego and Hood off the line now." Bruce hissed through the comms. "I swear I am working with immature kids."

"We're working on growing up, Bruce. We really do." Babs smiled, with zero intention of listening to his orders. Guess I was in charge after all and in fact, I started getting the feeling it would be quite enjoyable.

@pinksirensong

[starry-hughes]

❝  i don’t want to have to think or have control.  just,  do what you want with me.  if something is too much i’ll let you know.  trust me.  ❞ jamie

finishing up 1 year celly requests!

-

for you, it was a long day. your body ached when you got to the apartment. despite not having to sleep on the couch anymore where you practically had to laid on top of jamie, you swore your neck still hurt from that.

maybe it was the thrill of the new job. you were still adjusting to the timezone and the morning traffic. that’s why your body hurt so much. for jamie, it was a frustrating day.

he was nervous that he’d be traded again at any moment. that he would get a phone call and he’d have to pack up everything again. so he had been pushing himself hard in philadelphia. he wanted to stay and be appreciated.

jamie got home after you, entering the bedroom as you were getting out of the shower, standing in front of the new dresser and towel drying your hair. he felt his mood slowly change seeing you getting dressed in his clothes. “hi j, how was your day?” his hand brushed your lower back as he walked by. “frustrating.”

you frowned a little. “do you want to order take out for dinner? we haven’t gotten through that stack of take out menus cam gave us.”

“that’s fine,” he huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “jamie,” you frowned and sat on his thigh, his arm immediately wrapping around you, “can i make it better?”

“i just need to get my anger out.”

you thought for a second. “take it out on me.” his eyes widened and his face went red. “what? no, i don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

“we haven’t broken in the bed yet. i had a long day, you had a frustrating day. i don’t want to have to think or have control. just, do what you want with me. if something is too much i’ll let you know. trust me.”

jamie swallowed hard, not being able to ignore the feeling in his pants as they tightened. “please jamie.” you had only gotten him rough in bed maybe once or twice. but that’s what you needed right now. “okay,” he said.

jamie was red in the face and sweat formed all over him a while later. the bed was definitely broken in now. you hadn’t been able to keep up with how many orgasms you had. he had his way with you, anger and frustration melting away as he held your hips tightly and you were just moaning under him. “fuck jd, again,” you warned him.

he pulled you up, your back hitting his chest as he rubbed fast and hard circles on your clit with one hand and he kept you upright with his other arm and you practically screamed his name. jamie, who hadn’t even bothered to put on a condom came as you clenched around him. all your thoughts had melted away and you were twitching as he pulled himself out after a while.

“i wasn’t too hard, right?” he gasped for air. you were fucked dumb at that point. “no, j-just want you to hold me now.”

[miasmal-sweetness]

Needle in to a bug (part 2)

I recall being told years ago that many surgeons have an unusually perceptive sense of touch, able to feel and palpate things that others struggle with or can’t feel at all. I think that could describe Derek.

Also, I know why it’s usually not mentioned wtf a kidnapped darling does when they need to pee, but I personally prefer it. Being able to just use the bathroom and clean ourselves up plays a big part in feeling human and dignified for so many of us. Whether they’d treat it like nothing at all, enjoy your humiliation, or degrade you for just having human needs, I think it would all stress me out way more than getting slapped around a lil bit every now and then.

Summary: 4.7k. You finally get the chance to move around and learn more about Derek, but he’s studying you, too.

Alt summary: Your hot surgeon is really hands-on and gives you the worst sponge bath you’ll ever have.

Pairing: yandere!Derek Stiles x reader x (in the future) yandere!Victor Niguel

Warnings: author’s medical trauma is showing, general medfet, kidnapping/captivity, bondage, urine (but like not in a sexy way, it’s just there), reader refers to having a period, noncon, violence, use of pet names (princess, honey), general yandere and obsessive behaviors

part 1 part 2 part 3

MDNI – NSFW – 18+ only – take care of yourself

Needle in to a bug (part 2)

You’re still sleeping. You breathe quietly as your eyelids flutter. You’re dreaming, and Derek hopes it’s of him. Whether it’s of him holding your hand, fucking your brains out, or slicing you open, it doesn’t matter—he just wants it to be of him. Derek glances at your throat. The blade has left red circles on your chin and chest, but it doesn’t look like you tried to scream at all, and that brings a smile to his face.

He hopes this means that you’ll adjust quickly, but he’s not against the idea of you putting up a fight, either. You could squirm and swing at him, and he’d smack you in the face and shove you on to the floor and—he’s getting carried away. Derek clears his throat and adjusts his glasses; heat is flowing from his neck up to his face. And down to his pants.

You’re here. You could help him fix that. And it’s tempting—but you’re still healing, and he also hasn’t had the decency to feed you yet. Derek pinches his thigh in an effort to calm his raging libido, before kneeling down beside you and smoothing some of your hair out of your face. He always thought you were cute, even when you two first met, but you look adorable when you’re sleeping.

He should have just taken you back then. He gave you a pass and didn’t kill you because you were so sweet, and then you were smart enough to not come back for a while. He thought he wouldn’t be so soft this time, that he’d rip you apart and be done with you, but then you had to go and look so adorable while he was cutting you apart.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” Derek coos, running his finger down your cheek. You eyes flutter open, showing only your white sclera for a moment, before your eyeballs roll to the correct place and slowly focus on him. “How are you feeling?”

He knows you can’t speak without getting hurt, and he knows you’ve likely forgotten in your current state. “I—” You wince and whimper when the blade digs in to your flesh, and you snap your mouth shut to try to end the pain.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot,” Derek says in a tone that is far too chipper. He undoes the leather collar around your neck, returning your ability to speak. “Better?”

As if you fear the ghost of it will manage to hurt you, you hesitate, slowly opening your mouth to test it before actually speaking. “My—my back hurts. My lower back.” Your sacrum is both numb and aching, likely from the pressure of being against the hard tub for so many hours. The pool of your own urine underneath it only added to the damage.

Derek doesn’t want you to get a pressure ulcer. Those are nasty and annoying to heal. Even so, you haven’t been here that long. “If you behave,” he begins, touching his finger to the irritated red spot on your chest. “I can let you move around a little bit.”

You immediately nod. Ugh, that hurts. The back of your head feels like the skin is ready to slough off.

“No running. You stay by me the whole time unless I give you permission not to, okay? No screaming,” he lists, tapping the spot on your chest with each new rule. “No silly ideas.”

“Okay,” you quickly agree, eyes wide at the thought of actually getting to move. Maybe you can’t escape with him right next to you, but you can at least get your bearings and start mapping the place—and take some pressure off your sacrum and head.

Derek smiles at your agreeableness and reaches down to pull you upright. It hurts; if anything, you expected relief, but you were only met with more pain. Your muscles are already sore and stiff from being contorted behind and underneath you for so long, unable to stretch, flex, or extend. Your hips click loudly. Your knees pop. You can feel cold urine running down your skin and it makes you want to throw up a little, but there’s nothing in there for you to expel.

“I should get you cleaned up first,” Derek muses. He’s unfazed by what a fucking mess you are. He’s a doctor, a literal goddamn surgeon, of course he isn’t bothered by the sight of your red skin and dried blood and urine all over you. The mats at the back of your head. The indents and edema left by the rope he bound you with. The fluid that oozes from the flesh he tore in to. This is the reality of the human body, a reality he is very familiar with, and one that he can now make a personal show of through your trembling little form.

You’re stupid for expecting hot water. You’re dowsed with ice cold water from the shower head and you suppose you should just be grateful that it isn’t a tub full of it, but you’re not. Urine, blood, and sweat run off of you and flow down the drain. He’s careful to avoid wetting your sutures; those need to be cleaned differently, he says, but you already know that, right?

Derek runs a rough, soapy washcloth up and down your arms. You’re shivering like he’s dunked you in an ice bath, but you haven’t complained, at least. His gaze trails down your spine, to the blooming red over your tailbone, and he presses his fingers against the center of it. As he expected, your skin doesn’t blanch from the pressure, but you do wince.

“That hurt?” Derek asks automatically.

“Y-yes.”

Of course it fucking hurts, it’s a pressure injury, but it made his cock twitch to hear you say it. Derek isn’t gentle when he scrubs your back or washes your hair with his soap and shampoo that just dry you out because he isn’t the kind of guy that has figured out how to take care of all that yet. Even he can tell that you’re in need of something gentler by how tight your skin feels now, but you’re still pretty soft, so it’s not that big a deal.

He drags the washcloth down to your inner thighs. You jump and wriggle, your limbs instinctively trying to lash out at him, but you make no progress. The ropes around your wrists and ankles might be wet, but they’re still tied tight around your limbs.

“You’d rather get an infection?” Derek mocks, pressing the harsh cloth in to the soft skin of your thighs. “Do you think that would make me stop?”

“No,” you whimper, averting your gaze. “I-I can do it myself.”

“No,” he mumbles, his eyes fixated on the soap running down your mound, “I don’t think you can.”

He was already harsh when he washed your back, and he was even worse when he started scrubbing your inner thighs and folds. Fuck. The soap burned and this washcloth was made of sandpaper.

“Stop,” you hiss, squeezing your thighs together. “That hurts!”

Derek mutters something you can’t hear past the water rushing out of the shower head. He doesn’t even look at your face; he just forces your thighs apart enough for him to wedge his hand in between them again. And then you see that his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are parted as he takes in deeper and deeper breaths.

“Stop,” you plead again. It’s no longer just the washcloth against you; you can feel his fingers exploring, teasing, prodding. You should have known, you think. You should have known that the man who cut you apart and kidnapped you and tied you up would be a fucking pervert, that he wouldn’t leave you with any kind of dignity intact. You feel your hope of escape draining from your soul when you look in to his eyes. He won’t look at your face. He looks exactly like the kind of man who could cut a person open, take out their heart, and feel nothing about whether they lived or died.

The kind of man who would never let someone go if they had even the slightest chance of fucking up the life he crafted for himself.

“I told you to stop!” you screech, throwing yourself against the wall of the tub in an effort to escape his touch.

“No screaming,” Derek reminds you. His eyes lock with yours for only a second, long enough to remind you of the rules he laid out for you. He shoves his index finger in to you without any warning and thrums. You’re squirming and writhing and whining, your face red from salty tears stinging your skin. You feel hot and soft around his finger, even with how cold the water still is. “You’re tight. I wouldn’t be able to pull out if I tried.”

You don’t hide your disgust at his words; not like it matters when he just keeps staring at the finger he pushes in and out of you. It’s invasive and gross, and there’s nothing you can do about it except cry and growl and sniffle. He’s done after just a few more moments; he clears his throat and does a little shake of his shoulders, like he forgot himself. He looks at your face now and smiles, smiles like the kind doctor you met years ago that you would have never expected to be a probable murderer and rapist.

“All clean,” he says with a grin. “Let’s get you dried off.”

The towel he uses is as rough and miserable as the washcloth. His bathroom might be fancy, but he’s still a young and clueless single man who doesn’t know the first thing about maintaining a home. He tousles your hair dry, inevitably filling it with more knots, and doesn’t bother to brush it.

“Remember the rules,” Derek said, grabbing the ropes around your wrists. “You said you’d be good.”

“I will be,” you assure, leaning away from him.

Derek leans closer, of course, and tightens his grip on your bindings. The soaking wet rope scrapes away a layer of your skin. “I mean it,” he warns, “Don’t test my patience, princess. I use most of it for work.”

You feel his breath on you. You want to spit in his face—he’s certainly close enough—but you also don’t want to die yet, so you simply nod and bat your lashes at him. He looks at you for another moment, but finally undoes the ropes around you. You immediately shift in place and bring your hands in to your lap to stretch.

“Don’t get too excited,” Derek says, rising to his feet. He looks between your hands and your hair, and ultimately decides to pull you up by your hair instead. Punishment for your scream earlier, he thinks as he watches you wobble in your attempt to stand. “I can’t let you keep your hands and your eyes.”

Your eyes widen, and you hide your hands behind your back. He was going to amputate them? “I—n-no, I—”

“Not like that,” he laughs, his eyes crinkling as he watches your plight. He looks so genuinely happy in this moment; he’d be pretty cute if he weren’t joyful over your suffering. “Come on, princess. Follow me.”

Like you have a choice. Your feet feel heavy and borderline useless from pins and needles as you stagger after him. You get only a glimpse at the bedroom connected to his bathroom before he throws a blindfold over your eyes. No use in fighting it—you’re too weak on a good day and still shaking from the shower.

“And… there.” He’s slid something over your hands. Mittens, by the feel of it; the kind of soft restraint you sometimes saw applied to patients who kept grabbing at tubes and lines. They’re soft and useless and utterly harmless. The most you could do is bat at him like a kitten would at a toy. “You can stretch and move your legs, but stay by me, honey.”

You grimace at the pet name—a pet name you probably would have enjoyed before all this shit—and nod. He guides your covered hand to his arm and has you hang on as he leads you further in to his apartment. Your plan of learning the environment has failed. Your head is too foggy from pain and drugs to keep track of how many steps you take or the turns you take. You’ll have to try again another time, if there is one.

Your foot catches on something soft—a rug, you realize—and Derek is nice enough to catch you before you can bust your face open on his living room floor.

“Careful,” he warns, placing your other hand on his arm.

“I can’t see anything,” you grumble. You’re pouting like a kid who was scolded, and it just gets worse when you realize that and hate yourself for it.

Derek pulls you towards his couch and lets you fall against the stiff cushions. It feels like a couch that was bought for looks over function and that badly needed to be broken in. There was no wear on the fabric, something you could feel even without putting your hands down, since this man did not have the decency to give you your clothes.

Maybe your period would strike and you’d bleed right on his fucking couch. You bet it’s a white couch. Judging by his bathroom, his apartment is probably a soulless, monochromatic bachelor pad that costs an absurd amount to rent; a place that looks more like a picture in a magazine to advertise one of the three pieces of furniture in it than a place anyone actually lives in.

“You can relax,” Derek tells you, seeing how rigid you are. Back straight and tense, legs squeezed together; you’re even tightening your core. You look pretty cute—it’s not like he’s immune to what it’s doing for your tits and waistline—but also pretty uncomfortable. “I’m not going to do anything to you right now, princess. You sit here and I’ll get you something to drink.”

The thought of your captor continuing to hang out next to you on his couch that felt like it was stuffed with books wasn’t appealing, but somehow the thought of being entirely alone here was worse. You tried grabbing on to his arm, but the mittens don’t allow you to actually grip anything. Still, he feels it and chuckles at your attempt.

“Cute,” Derek purrs, “I’ll be right back, honey.”

Honey. Princess. You feel his weight leave the couch as the saccharin sweetness of his voice leaves an aftertaste in your mouth that makes you grimace. You run your mitten-covered hands over your thighs in some attempt to soothe yourself and then pat the cushion you sit on. Stiff. You can hear the roughness of the fabric. You can hear his footsteps, too; he’s awfully loud for a criminal.

You hear liquid splashing, the sound of a fridge door opening and closing. What was he going to bring you to drink? Your mouth was so dry. IV fluids did not feel the same as oral hydration. A cold glass of water would be heaven in liquid form—but what were the odds he’d actually give you that?

He’d cut you open. Peeled your flesh back and toyed with your sinew. Probably took a fucking souvenir, unless you in your entirety were that souvenir. Assaulted you while he bathed you, bound you so you couldn’t scream without a serious injury, and left you without the dignity of being able to use the toilet. This little excursion, his offer of a drink, were both more likely to end in more pain than anything that could restore some of your humanity and comfort.

Your anxiety grows in your chest as he approaches. You feel the air pressure change around you; he’s to your… right. Leaning over you, exuding warmth. Cool glass touches your lips.

“Here,” Derek says, pressing a glass to your mouth. “Drink up.”

It’s fizzy; you feel bubbles popping and misting your face. It smells sweet. Your thirst outweighs your fear, and you take a hesitant sip that quickly turns into a desperate guzzle when you recognize it as lemon-lime soda.

“Slowly—you’ll upset your stomach, princess,” Derek laughs. You can already feel your stomach expanding from its shriveled state and starting to ache. He pulls the glass away from you; you follow it, but lose it immediately. “You can have more in a little bit. If you do well with this, then we can see about moving to full liquids. Okay?”

He tilts your head up, holding you by your chin. He can’t look you in the eyes like this, but he can still see your quivering lip. “Okay,” you breathe.

“I’m going to get a few things to clean your incision. In the meantime, you should stretch,” he says, pulling his hand away. “And make sure to take deep breaths regularly. I don’t want you getting pneumonia or a blood clot.”

“Okay,” you say again, in a strained voice. He’s leaving you here? Alone? Your hands might be soft and close to useless right now, but even you can bat off this blindfold with enough effort.

“I’ll be right around the corner, cutie,” Derek warns, his finger tapping the shallow wound on your chest. “No silly ideas.”

That makes much more sense. He leaves you on the couch to bitterly stretch out your tight calves. You can hear him rustling around somewhere nearby; any attempt to leave will end in tears.

He speaks to you like you’re a patient. Not only like you’re a real patient in a real hospital, but like you don’t know this shit anyway—like you don’t work at the same stupid hospital he does, the hospital that doesn’t pay you enough to afford real medical care, so you end up going to coworkers that are kind enough to treat you even though you can’t pay and they fucking kidnap you. Greatest goddamn hospital in Angeles Bay—in the nation, even—and they won’t pay their non-physician staff members a wage that would afford them something so basic. Caduceus was evil enough just for that without Derek slicing and dicing in their empty units.

You thought he was nice, once. When he worked at Hope Hospital and he saw you needed help, he pulled you aside after you refused treatment and offered to help you at no cost. It wasn’t an emergency, so you just had to come back later; he’d take you to the little office he worked out of for this and treat you. And he did. Your desperation paid off, and you left with the hope that you could be like him and never lose that kind of compassion when you started your career.

You wanted to be like him, as disgusting as it is to admit that now. You ran to him for help again. Let him put his hands on you once—a murderer’s hands—and then asked for more.

You slouch forward and let your mittens touch the hard floor beneath you. You’re stretching, technically. The fold is hurting your belly, but it distracts you from your thoughts, at least.

“Feeling any better?” Derek asks as he approaches you again. You look like you’re broken in already, and it’s better that you can’t see the overjoyed grin on his face at the thought of that.

“A little,” you mumble honestly. Your muscles feel ten times better, although your back is still a tad sore.

“Good, good,” Derek chirps, guiding you back on to the couch. “I’m going to clean your incision so it doesn’t get infected. All you need to do is lie down, honey.”

You stay put, bringing your hands close to your chest and your arms over your abdomen.

Derek’s eyes narrow in the slightest, but he remains smiling to keep his voice sweet. “You can have more to drink after this, princess—if you’re good,” he bribes.

That’s enough to get you to behave again. You lie down on the couch, and it feels only a little more comfortable than the tub. You twitch each time a package rustles as he readies his equipment. A bottle opens—antiseptic. Paper rustling—a box of gauze. Plastic peeling—a transparent dressing.

You hiss and bristle when icy antiseptic runs over the inflamed incision on your belly. One of his gloved hands grips your thigh, as though he’s trying to steady you.

“Breathe and relax,” Derek orders, running a new piece of wet gauze over the wound. “You’ll be fine.”

The kind thing to do before dressing a wound is provide pain medication. You are not in a position where you are afforded any kindness, so you bite your cheek and accept the pain of antiseptic sinking in to your flesh. It dries quickly, at least, and he’s soon applying antibiotic gel and a transparent dressing.

“There. It shouldn’t need to be changed for a while, if it heals normally,” Derek says, peeling off his soiled gloves. “I think I promised you a drink, right?”

Your brain digs up a memory at that word—promise. “You promised something else, too,” you say in a weak voice. Your incision still burns, and the dressing feels itchy and sweaty.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You said—before you left, you said you’d tell me why,” you remind him, sitting up from the couch.

Derek sighs and adjusts himself so that he’s sitting down on the floor in front of you. “I did say that,” he mutters, furrowing his brow. His smile returns to his face and voice, and he rests his hand on your knee. You’re still cold to the touch; probably from low blood sugar, he thinks, so he gives you another sip of soda. “You want to know why I took you as my patient?”

You grit your teeth. “Why you kidnapped me and tortured me,” you whisper.

“Well, I’ll admit that my ways are unorthodox,” Derek says, tapping his fingers against your thigh. “And maybe the medical board wouldn’t be thrilled with me—they’re pretty clear that they don’t want us pursuing our patients.”

What the fuck is he talking about? You widen your eyes behind your blindfold and think that he’s somehow crazier than you thought—again. “Pursuing? Do you… Do you think this is romantic?”

Derek laughs. “Are you asking me, Derek, or are you asking Dr. Stiles, the man who cured GUILT?” He grins at the sight of you swallowing.

“You,” you quickly say, “I’m asking you. I want a real answer—please.”

“So polite,” he praises, just as you expected. “I think it is. You’re the one person I’ve changed my mind about killing, after all.”

That’s not romantic, you think and nearly say aloud. You don’t want to know how he’d respond. Instead, you ask, “Why did you try? Why did you change your mind?”

“You were an easy target,” Derek admitted, letting his fingers freely wander up and down your thigh. “You know, I mostly get older patients. They’re used to this. They’re calloused, inside and out. But not you; you’re still young and soft. Softer than normal. I’ve operated on hundreds of people, but you felt… different. Like an actual human, not just another body on my table.”

He leans his face against your thigh; his cheek feels hot, so hot you think he’s actually blushing as he murmurs this delusion against your skin. His fingers brush against the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis; it tickles, but you’re too focused on his words to react. He’s murmuring it like a confession of a crush, rather than a confession of how much he wants to see you suffer.

“It felt incredible to touch you like that,” Derek breathes. He presses his lips against your thigh, gripping your legs in place when he feels you lean away. “You don’t need to be shy with me, honey. I know you need me, too.” He drags his lips over your skin, his fingers trying to pry your thighs apart.

“Stop,” you whimper. You raise your hands to push his head away, but he grabs them by their straps and pulls them to the side. “I don’t want this! Just let me go and I—”

“Won’t tell anyone, you swear,” Derek finishes. The warmth in his face is gone, as is his smile. “I’ve heard this before, princess. You aren’t clever. Now, I’m going to give you another chance because I know you’re scared. Try to be good this time.”

Refuse again and he’d tie you back up. And probably worse. You can’t stop shaking as he kisses up and down your thigh, like he’s your lover and not your captor. You want to throw up every ounce of your drink, but the most you can do is pathetically try to pull your hands away from him.

“Be good,” he says against your flesh, “I won’t need to hurt anyone else if I can just feel you, princess. Think of all those people you’ll save.”

If you weren’t so panicked and weren’t blinded, maybe you’d see the tension in his shoulders and the way his eyes widened. Maybe you’d see his lower lip tremble and the desperation he held back in his kisses. Maybe you’d realize it’s been a long time since he was last given someone’s vulnerability, instead of taking it by force. But you can’t see him, and he’d never admit just how much he wants to hear you moan.

“I don’t want you,” you spit, twisting your hands out of his grip. “Get away from me!” You tear at the blindfold, managing to push it above one eye, when you hear him laugh and feel his hand leave your thigh.

“Well, that’s too bad, princess.”

You’re grabbed by your hair and dragged kicking and screaming across the floor of his living room. He’s taking you back to the bathroom, back to that stupid fucking tub. You gnash your teeth at his hand when he reaches for your face, but it only earns you a slap across the face. Fuck, that stings.

“You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not,” Derek growls, tightly gripping your chin in his hand. You squint your half-revealed eyes up at him; your cheek is bright red and starting to swell from his strike. “If you want to keep acting like a bratty little girl, be my guest, but don’t expect to get anywhere. I don’t reward noncompliance.”

You wriggle and thrash and bite and yell and it gets you absolutely fucking nowhere because he flips you on your belly and ties you up before you can so much as blink. The Healing Touch. The power that made him a surgeon above all other surgeons—the power that probably made it possible for him to get away with murder all these years.

“We could have had fun,” Derek laments, dropping your rigid body back in the tub. “And I would have been nice at the end and given you your pain medicine, but it seems like you’re refusing my treatment… So I guess we’ll try again tomorrow.” He’s all smiles as he speaks, and you’d give your life savings to smack that stupid grin off his face.

“Fuck you,” you gnarl, glaring up at him.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Derek straps the bladed collar around your throat and takes the blindfold off from around your face. You grit your teeth as you glare up at him; he can see every bit of fire and poison in your eyes, every unspoken curse you want to spit at him, and every ounce of fear that keeps you from opening your mouth with a blade at your throat and his presence threatening your life. “There. Maybe we’ll try again tomorrow. See you in the morning, honey.”

And he leaves you. You’re back in your porcelain prison, counting ceiling tiles again and trying to block out the pain going through your body. You should have kept your mouth shut and gone along with it; all you did was delay the inevitable.