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peachesofteal · 5 months ago

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Simple Math / Part Fifteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader AO3 - 4.7k words Tags: 18+ mdni, nurse!reader, hospital setting, domesticity, feelings of anxiety, self doubt, anxiety about sex. PTSD. Tiny bit of a panic attack. Tiny smidge of Simon's past if you know where to look. Comfort. Cockwarming. Barebacking, anal fingering, masturbation, praise kink, daddy kink. Basically the guys fuck while Bunny watches.

You’ve been having dreams about the hospital.

It’s always the same one.

You’re running a code with an intern and a fleet of baby nurses. No one is moving as fast as you are, no one is following direction. You’re on fast forward, they’re on rewind.

Every time, the dream starts and ends the same way. For some reason, you can’t see the patient’s face. You work on them for what feels like hours, and then only once it’s been called does the mental block disappear, you look down-

To see yourself.

Intubated. Bruised and broken.

Dead.

“Bunny.”

“Hmm?” You glance up across the counter, feeling the focus of Simon’s eyes before you see them.

“Everything alright?” Pen babbles ‘moremoremoremore’ while making the sign at the same time.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He mimics Penny’s sign, and then gives her a yes, spooning more yogurt into her mouth.

“You’ve been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes, staring into your coffee.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry… I’m just a little… scatterbrained this morning.”

“Still having that dream?” It’s been a week and a half since it started, and a few days since you finally confided in Simon and Johnny it was bothering you. “Do you think it might be related to going back to work this week?” You shrug.

“Maybe? I don’t know… I’ve never dreamed of working on… myself.” His jaw flexes, and then he sighs.

“I’ve been thinking…” Penny squawks, demanding the attention of the room, and you pull some blueberries from the counter and put them on her plate. “My therapist is taking new patients. I don’t want to push you before you’re ready, but I’d like you to consider it.” The grimace slides onto your face without preamble. Sure, you’ve considered therapy in the past, but it’s a risk. Mandated reporting, paper trails, everything you don’t need.

“I don’t need therapy right now.”

“You have PTSD.” He says point blank, and you blink. Your mind fractures, little pieces twisting and turning, trying to knit together a larger picture.

“No- I- I’m not… it’s…” You’re a medical professional, don’t you know what PTSD looks like?

“It’s hard to see, in yourself.” Simon senses the confusion and tries to soothe it away, cool balm on a burn.

You suppose he’s not wrong. It’s not unrealistic, you having PTSD, but you’ve never been confronted with it. Never been forced to face the truth.

No one’s ever known you well enough, to see.

It stings. It stings for some reason, and you don’t know why.

“I’m sorry.” He stands, moving around the counter to stand in front of you. “I want to help you, bun, but I should have approached that differently.” You shake your head, relenting into the steady hand at your back, and tip your face into his chest. The confrontation of the truth aches, but there’s comfort in Simon’s touch, understanding, and you relent to it, drifting away inside his tender hold.

“What’s goin’ on?” Johnny’s close, appearing in the kitchen after sleeping in. He was deep in his own dreams when you woke up, sweet like angel in the clouds, buried in the pillows, and you couldn’t stand to wake him.

Simon rumbles something over your head. You can’t make it out, ear covered by his bicep, and you turn your head to peek, reaching for Johnny.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi.”

“Why don’t ye come lay down wit’ me on the couch?” He coos, stroking a hand over your hair. “’m not quite awake yet.” Simon gives you a squeeze, and you nod.

“Yeah, okay.”

Johnny holds you close. His nose in your neck, fingertips carefully tracing over your skin, heat at your back, he calms you, comforts you, lulls your stiff muscles languid. He’s so good at it, pulling and kneading until you settle, and it dawns on you he’s had practice.

“Would you tell me about you and Simon?”

“What do ye want to know?”

“What was it like… in the beginning. When you got together.” He kneads your hip, thoughtful for a quiet moment, and then takes a deep breath.

“He was difficult. Didnae wan’ to let me in, no matter how hard I tried. Had to corner him in his room on base just to get him to kiss me.” Johnny chuckles low, rubbing your shoulder. “Took him forever, to break down, let me see him, really see him, for the first time. I had glimpses, here and there. Moments in the field, on base, at the bar with the team when we’d decompress but… it took a lot of work. He tried to push me off, hide away.”

“Why?

“It’s his story to tell ye, bunny. An’ he will, in time.” He sighs. “He’s always been like this, strong, steadfast, more serious than me, but he buried a lot of things, deep. Always was very aware of it, jus’ not willing to show it to anyone else. Wanted to be a ghost.”

“But… he’s okay."

“He’s okay. Has some moments where he gets lost, still, but works through ‘em, wit’ me or on his own.” He kisses your neck, soft enough to tickle, and you shiver. “He’s really good at this, bein’ a da, takin’ care of a family. Treats us all like his little unit. I miss him too much when ‘m away. Pen too.”

“I’m sure.” His lips graze your shoulder, humming.

“An’ ye. When I go back, I’ll be thinkin’ of ye all the time.” When he goes back. The idea is chilling, a douse of cold water. It’s felt so far away, the idea of Johnny returning to his job, the thing that brought you to him in the first place.

“But that won’t be for a while, right? I mean, you’re still healing.”

“It won’t be for a while.” He assures, though there’s something in his voice, pinched and pained. You don’t ask, don’t push, choosing to close your eyes instead, nestled in his arms, safe.

“This is the worst.” You’re whining. You know you’re whining, know you sound like a child, but it spills out of you without stopping.

“I know sweetheart.” Simon screws the cap onto a travel mug, giving you a sympathetic smile. They’re both up with you, before the sun, listening to you moan.

You shouldn’t be going to work at this hour. You should be awake, puttering around, working your rhythm back to normal, getting oriented to working at night.

You’ve never hated your manager more. She insisted she was sorry, that she had no choice but to fill the overnight shift. She assumed, she said, the new nurse would want to go to days when you got back, but she’s taken a liking to it.

She’s taken your shift.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? An’ ye’ll see me tomorrow when I come in for therapy.” That is an upside at least, knowing you’ll be able to see him, see them both, at work.

But the rest of it, simply put, sucks.

“We should probably get going.” Simon kisses Johnny goodbye, and you’re drawn to them, sidling up in their orbit. Johnny wraps an arm around you, mouth to your temple.

“Have a good first day back, bunny. I’ll be thinking of ye.” You turn, grazing your lips on his, and he seals the kiss, drenching it in care, sweetness.

“Bye.”

Simon walks you all the way to the door.

Your resistance at the initial idea slowly fades as the sun peeks over the city. It’s different with Simon at your side, the paranoia and rampant fear infecting the atmosphere wherever you go is farther away.

You trust him. You’re starting to believe they may be able to keep you safe.

He holds your hand for most of the trip.

It’s… nice. Once you make it to the door, he turns and tucks his fingers under your chin, holding your gaze like a magnet. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” He presses his lips to your forehead, and you lean into it, eyes closed.

“Have a good day, bunny.”

Work is absolute hell.

Dayshift is so different from nights, and you have trouble adjusting. The turnover rate at the hospital is fairly high, so when you badge in and get started, you hardly recognize anyone.

Except, Marshall.

He’s standing outside the pit when you round the corner, devilish grin aimed at one of the nurses you don’t recognize. New probably. Sheep in a lion’s den.

You clear your throat. His head snaps up.

“Well, well, well… looks who back from vacation.”

“Marshall.” You greet, barely looking at him, tapping through your tablet. “I wasn’t on vacation. I was out on medical leave. Big difference.”

“Right.” He takes you in from head to toe. “Rotator cuff, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

“Surgical?”

“No.” The other nurse watches you with interest, before scurrying away when a bell chimes. “Still having inappropriate relationships all over the hospital, I see.” He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re one to talk.” Ice cracks across your forced smile. He smirks. “Heard you’ve got yourself two boyfriends.” You suck your teeth. Nia.

“Considering he’s no longer my patient, it’s hardly inappropriate.” With the best timing, his phone rings, pulling his focus, and you slip away.

Fucking asshole.

Simon opens the front door for you and is careful not slam it closed.

“Penny asleep?”

“Johnny’s trying now. We’ll see if he has any luck. She’s been fightin’ it.” The kitchen smells like garlicky lemon, and you peek over his shoulder to see a large saucepan filled with linguini, capers, and shrimp. Your mouth waters.

“That smells amazing.” He takes your bag from you and hangs in on a hook from the hall tree.

“Scampi. We remembered you said it was one of your favorites, and we thought we’d spoil you a little bit. Celebrate your first day back.” Your cheeks burn hot, and to your horror, tears build up through your nose to your eyes. His brows crinkle together. “Hey, what is it?”

“That’s just… it’s really nice. You don’t have to.” Someone celebrating something with you, for you, is alien. The memories of the beginning of your relationship with Phillip are long gone, twisted and gnarled into black rot. It’s how he charmed you, wooed you, brought you closer and closer until they all but faded and you were left with only the darkness. The vice grip of his hands. His satisfied, sickening smile every time you closed your eyes.

“It’s not a ‘have to’ thing, sweetheart. We want to.” He skates his fingers over yours, pulling them to his mouth. “I know it’s hard to get used to.” You’re a little bewildered by it, the care, the consideration, even the memory of something you mentioned off hand.

“I… thank you.” He kisses your temple.

“Go shower. You smell like a hospital.”

“This was so good. Thank you again.” Your hands are woven together under your chin, rich wine sauce still present on the back of your tongue.

“Aye, thank ye.” Johnny winks at Simon, who rolls his eyes.

“Here, let me-“

“I got it.”

“No, you cooked.” You protest with a pout as they both rise.

“Johnny, sit.”

“Can wash dishes, ye know. I’m not helpless.” A sliver of twilight passes over Simon’s expression, not quite darkness but still full of a looming shadow until he sighs, relenting.

“Alright.” Your lips purse.

“What about me?”

“Ye jus’ sit on the couch and look pretty, bun. Willnae take us more than a few minutes.”

‘Just sitting on the couch’ lasts for all of five minutes before you’re antsy, rolling to your feet and padding into the kitchen.

You stop dead at the corner of the counter.

They’re making out. More than making out, Simon is swallowing Johnny’s whines with big breaths, his hand down the front of his pants. You buzz, thighs pressing together without permission, spine tingling heat awakening in your blood with zeal.

“Ah, shite-“

“Shhh. Be good.” Simon admonishes, but smiles into the kiss, wrist working a rhythm in Johnny’s sweatpants. He pulls away, chin tilted, looking down his nose with an eyebrow raised, almost condescendingly, but still grinning. “Feel good? Just need some relief?” Johnny’s moan is strangled in his throat, and you’re about to turn the corner in the shame, mortified you’re essentially spying on them, when Simon looks at you like he knows you’ve been there the whole time. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” You whimper. It slips out, unbidden, and Johnny turns, forehead pressed to Simon’s cheek. His hips are trying to jerk into the grip that has slowed, and he groans.

“Si.”

“Relax.” Simon stills him, pulling his hand free. “Maybe bunny wants to play too.” You give them a nervous smile, butterflies building in your stomach. You’re scared, there’s no other emotion to describe it. There’s fear, bad memories, anxiety building in the back of your throat, but at the same time, desire pushes you forward. You trust them, and it’s reached a critical point. You want to try.

“I… maybe if we s-started slow… I’m not sure…”

“That’s okay.” Simon coaxes, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s waist, hand splayed possessively on his stomach. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Their bed is an enchanted place.

There’s love in it, beguiling affection that transfers to you, dots down your throat to your chest, your clavicle, ass pressed into the hardened swell of Johnny’s cock.

It’s enough to strike down your fear, pry you open, lecherous want infiltrating your mind, your soul.

Their dynamic is crystal clear. Simon is natural in his mastery of both Johnny and you, the leader, the maestro. His forbearance at slowly peeling you free, layer by layer, puts you at ease, calms you enough you let him take your pants off, leaving you in only your underwear and the t shirt you put on before dinner. He folds you up against Johnny, careful to mind his sore spots, the pieces still healing, lips finding the plush fold at your ribcage.

“Sweet little bunny.” He glides careful fingertips over your panties. “Can I touch you here?” You draw a deep breath.

“Yeah.” Johnny’s lips graze your neck, and he sweep up over your belly towards your nipples, under your shirt.

“An’ can I touch ye here?”

“Mm- mhmm.” You buck into them, sensation building between your legs, lust cascading to where Simon’s fingers slip into your underwear and down the seam of your pussy.

“You’re wet, sweetheart. Is this for us?” You nod, Johnny tickling circles across your breasts, playing back and forth, pinching and stroking gently.

They’re both taking it slow, cautious, and there’s one half of you wanting to rip into them, and vice versa, while the other half is terrified. So far, the reckless abandon side is winning, but when Simon grazes over your clit, the crest of your fear bottoms out in the pit of your stomach. Johnny flexes his hips, the weight of his cock between the curve of your ass, and the combination of it, the touch now overwhelming, stream of thoughts turning panicked and unstoppable like a bolder rolling down hill, steals your breath.

In the wrong way.

“S-stop.” You freeze, immobilized, muscles turned from molten lava to stone, eyes wide, lungs rasping. Simon immediately creates distance, while Johnny jerks backward, palm steady on your shoulder, but separated otherwise.

“Ye’re alright, bunny.”

“Take a breath.” Simon coaches, maintaining eye contact, and you nod shakily, anchoring yourself to Johnny’s tender hold. You manage a breath, not so far gone you’re spiraling, and it’s deep, without a hitch or a studder. “That’s great. You’ve got it.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, disappointed. You’ve let yourself down, let them down-

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He murmurs, understanding and slow. “We’re done. There’s no rush.”

“No!” You blurt. He raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I just… I don’t want it to end I’m just not sure I can… do it.” His head tilts, surprise contained with a slow smile, and Johnny hums.

“Do ye wantae watch, pretty girl?” You nod shyly.

“Is that… is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” Simon rasps, stroking your cheek. “Sit up against the headboard.”

The two of them move into position seamlessly, sweat and breath thick in the air, a wet fog blanketed around you. A bottle of lube discarded on the mattress, a pillow under Johnny’s hip to cushion him. He’s settled on his side, arranged carefully to avoid pressure on his injuries, and they both face you.

Simon kisses his neck, sucking urgent marks into his skin before he palms Johnny's ass, hard and then slips between his cheeks. You’re unable to see his hand, but when Johnny’s eyes go wide and he groans hoarsely, your clit throbs.

“There you go.”

“Simon.” He whines, high pitched and needy.

“Bloody tight, Johnny. Been so long since I’ve taken care of you, huh?”

“A- fuck, aye.” He presses backwards into Simon, and pants. The scene makes you drool, the eagerness on Johnny’s face, the slow movements of Simon at his back, his lips against Johnny’s cheek, neck, murmuring gently. You’re nearly shivering, ache screaming between your legs, and instinct takes over as your slip your hand inside your underwear. You’re slick, so wet it dampens your curls, and your fingertips slide over your clit, zaps of electricity echoing through your nerve endings.

Simon looks up at you through heavy lids, mouth obscured by Johnny’s shoulder. “Are you touching yourself sweetheart?” You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid it will come out a garbled mess. “You want to come when I fill our boy up?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Keep going.’ He orders, and then shifts, pressing his cock to Johnny’s entrance. Johnny moans, and your own hips jerk.

Simon pushes slowly, focused on Johnny’s face, cataloging every expression. “Y’alright?” Johnny nods, lip tucked into his teeth. “Christ. You’re strangling me.” He thrusts sharply, sealing his hips to the soft curves in front of him, and Johnny cries out in a high-pitched wail, eyes slamming shut. He fumbles with his cock, squeezing at the root, but Simon pulls him away. “Not yet, sweet boy. Need you to last for us.” You’re trapped in a shockwave that hasn’t quite reached shore yet, tension building with each swipe over your sensitive bud.

“Bunny…” Johnny rasps, and your apprehensions wane.

“Does it feel good?” you whine, and he nods, groaning. Simon builds his thrusts into an unrelenting pace and cups Johnny’s belly, stroking down, pushing against the strain of muscle there, Johnny’s eyes rolling into the back of head. You wonder if Simon can feel it, the pressure, the bulge of his hard cock, shoving deeper and deeper.

“Daddy-“ Johnny shrieks, and Simon’s mouth curls into a satisfied smirk.

“That’s right, good boy. Fuck… perfect little hole f’me. All mine.” He practically growls it, and you writhe, flicking down your pussy and back up, breathing hitching in a frantic pace. Johnny’s delirious, hands scrambling across the sheets, half reaching for you, half reaching for nothing. “Isn’t he perfect, bunny?”

“Ah- yeah.” Your tongue is numb, body burning. Sweat slicks down the middle of your back, and you ride your hand violently.

“Please.” He’s begging, frenzied, fingers twisting, and Simon reaches for his cock, wrapping his fist around his length. It doesn’t take long until Johnny’s back bows, and your toes curl. You hiss. They move together wildly now, a push pull in a frenetic dance, and your eyes slip closed, sinking into the slick sounds of Simon fucking Johnny open, Johnny moaning, whispers passed back and forth. Simon cups his jaw, tilting his face towards you, and they both watch, drifting from your eyes down to where you’re trying to make yourself come, clit swollen and throbbing.

“She’s such a good girl, isn’t she? Touchin’ herself, watching you take my cock.”

“Pretty girl.” Johnny slurs through his gasps, body shaking with the power of Simon’s thrusts. He’s close, judging by the fevered look on his face, little gasps and whines tumbling from his mouth. Simon squeezes him, thick thumb rubbing over his slit.

“Come, bunny. Be good for daddy.” Simon coaches, and you tighten, cosmic explosion streaking behind your closed lids, the same time Simon grits out something under his breath, jaw tight, tugging relentlessly on Johnny’s cock until he’s crying out too, cum splattering up his belly and chest, Simon milking every last drop from his cock as he lazily strokes inside him.

Immediately, you gasp. Shocked at yourself, but not scared. Not nervous just… emboldened.

They both read it on you, and Johnny’s head lolls with a satisfied, lazy smile. Simon pulls free, rubbing Johnny’s hip sweetly, ducking into the bathroom to get a towel. He cleans him up carefully, gently, and Johnny’ reaches for your hand. You don’t turn away.

And when Simon urges you to tuck in between them for sleep, you do. More than willingly.

“He looks good.” Hot tea wafts from the cup in front of your nose. You’re on break, somewhat, watching Johnny work through his last few minutes of physical therapy, his face broken out in satisfied smile. His biceps flex. “Really good.”

“He’s been workin’ out at home, a bit. In the garage.”

“He shouldn’t be pushing it.”

“I know.” Simon squeezes your good shoulder. “He’s okay, bun. He’s strong. A bit too stubborn for his own good sometimes, but strong.”

“Dada.” Penny smacks an open palm against Simon’s chest, and he covers it with his own, bouncing her slightly.

“Look, Pen. Is that your Da in there? Is that him?” The therapist smiles at Johnny and pats him on the back, rubs his shoulder down to his elbow with wandering fingers. She’s pretty, and fit, tight ass, tiny hips. A sliver of self-doubt, self-consciousness pokes at you, and then jealousy nearly turns you green. Simon cocks his head with a laugh. “Easy, bun. She’s just doing her job, you know.”

“What? I know that. I’m fine.” You immediately blurt, and it does nothing for your cause.

“It’s cute. That you’re jealous.”

“I’m not,” you roll your eyes, “whatever.” He chuckles, and then starts to pass Penny to you.

“Can you hold her while I help him get his stuff together?”

“Sure, c’mere girlfriend.” You tuck her up into your chest, playing with her hair as she curls into you. “Sleepy huh? It’s past your nap time. I bet Dada keeps you up for an early bedtime tonight.” She coos. Her fingers tighten in the collar of your shirt.

And then a freight train rams itself in the deepest parts of your heart.

You lean against the wall to keep your balance.

This is not your baby, but she feels like yours. Her weight is familiar now. Her routines. Her signs and sounds.

It’s easy to close your eyes and imagine she’s yours.

It’s been days since you touched yourself in bed as Johnny and Simon had sex, and the scene, the desire, is burrowing itself in your brain.

You want more.

You want more so badly you wind up touching yourself in the shower, fingers stroking your clit until you're muffling a moan in your elbow when you come.

It doesn’t soothe the ache. You’re not sure what will.

So, when you’re done, and find them relaxing in bed, Johnny in boxers, an idea abruptly runs through your head.

Could you?

Your fingers twiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“Hi.”

“Hi?” Simon raises an eyebrow. Johnny stops his sketching to smile.

“I um. I wanted to… see… or ask for something.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I just… I was wondering if I could… sit on you.”

“Sit on us?” Simon’s brow furrows, but Johnny’s face lights up.

“Like, ye wannae sit on one of us?” He emphasizes the word sit, and Simon murmurs.

“Ah.”

“I just… I really want to… I want to move on.” The words take you by surprise. “I want to feel like a human again, like how I used to feel. Before I was like this. I think…”

“Taking back control of your body will bring you closer to healing.” Johnny looks at Simon, and there’s desperate sadness in their eyes. Their hands intertwine, gripping onto each other so hard it looks like it hurts.

The moment passes, gone like it was never there in the first place. Johnny turns back to you.

“Ye’ll have to sit on me, pretty girl.”

“But... your hip.”

“I can take it.” You nod. Not that you prefer one to the other, but you’re curious.

“Is there a reason why…”

“I’m too big, bunny. Especially if it’s been a while for you. We’ll need to ease you into it.” Johnny smirks, and you hide an excited shiver.

“Okay.”

You stretch yourself out with your own fingers at first, the process made easier by your orgasm in the shower, all the while both Simon and Johnny encourage you, coo at you, praise you.

You stay present. Focused.

“Take it slow,” Simon coaches when you straddle Johnny’s hips, “don’t rush it. Just take your time.” Hands on his shoulders, Simon reaches for his cock, sliding it through your lips, brushing your clit before angling it at your entrance. You take a deep breath.

“Okay.”

The first inch makes you whine. Johnny’s fingertips draw circles up and down your spine, his lips in your ear. “Good job, pretty girl. Just like that. Nice and easy.” Your eyes slip closed, and you take more, sliding down his cock, the burn of the stretch smarting tears in your eyes. Simon wipes them away.

“Our brave girl. You’re doing so well. Feel okay so far?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye alright? Does it hurt?”

“A little.” You wince, taking another inch, glancing down. Your equilibrium pitches.

“Look at me.” Johnny redirects, head tilted back on a pile of pillows. “Jus’ look at me, bunny. You’re safe. I’ve got ye.” His hands guide your hips, keeping your pace even and slow, careful. Even when the anxiety invades your control, he steadies you. “It’s us, just us. We’re here, bunny. You’re okay.” The ache, the open sore spot spilling sticky, blackened tar, seals up. It's zippered shut, away from you, packed tight for another day. Another moment. The only thing you need to focus on is here, and now. With them. Johnny's jaw clenches. “Christ Si. She’s really tight.”

“I know.” He pushes some of Johnny’s hair from his forehead. “You’re both being so good. I’m proud of you.” The praise, the warmth from the both of him, glows in your heart. You’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, in your life. Again and again, they surprise you, teaching you how things you used to dread or shy away from can be enjoyed, valued.

This is how it should be. Love without fear. Intimacy without fear.

You’re fully split open on Johnny, stuffed full. It’s tender, calm in the low light of the bedroom, almost cozy. His thighs blaze under your ass, and the heat creeps like lava to your fingers and toes, turning you boneless, languid in his arms. Simon leans in to kiss your temple.

“How do you feel?”

“R-really full.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No just… stretched, I think?” You wiggle a little bit, and Johnny finally breaks eye contact, looking up at the ceiling with a groan.

“Try to be still bunny. We just want to get you used to the feeling. This isn’t about sex.” Simon's last comment earns Johnny a warning glance, and he nods, straightening.

“Right. Even though your perfect little pussy is drivin’ me mad-“

“Johnny.” Simon chides. “Bunny, can you lean forward for me?” His hand presses to the middle of the back, guiding you to rest your cheek on Johnny’s shoulder. “Good girl.”

The room lapses into silence that lasts, rhythm of your chest rising and falling syncing with Johnny’s, Simon humming, working a hand up and down your spine.

Up and down. Up and down.

You think you could do it now. Roll your hips and rise on your knees, sink back down to feel the pressure, the bludgeoning tip of Johnny’s long cock nestled at your cervix. You’re not sure, not confident, but somewhere in your dreams, you picture yourself milking him dry, riding his cock until you’re shattering.

“Si.” Johnny’s voice pitches to something you’ve never heard, low and heavily accented. “Will ye read?” Pages of a book flutter. You hadn’t realized your eyes had closed, but as Simon’s voice picks up a page with no pretense, you don’t fight it, allowing yourself to drift between them, cradled on Johnny’s body with a piece of him pulsing inside you.

It’s bliss. It’s love. You’re…. happy.

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #John soap mactavish #ghost x soap x reader

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 1 year ago

Text

flower therapy | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after being rescued from the capitol’s torturous clutches, your boyfriend, finnick odair, assists you with recovering from haunting memories and ptsd.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: finnick being major boyfriend material, soft reader, mentions of torture, ptsd, panic attack, hurt/comfort, fluff

notes: the way i lowkey triggered myself into a panic attack while writing this?? i’m okay now though 😀

word count: 1.3k

Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. That is what the psychiatric doctors of District Thirteen suggested after you were rescued from being captured and tortured in the Capitol. Their methods sounded daunting and all too familiar—sterile white rooms, memory flash cards, persistent strangers who would force you to relive your trauma so you could 'work through it'.

Finnick did not like the sound of that one bit. So, he offered an alternative.

Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. The label was a mouthful. Finnick preferred to call it "flower therapy". Twice a week, you and Finnick were authorised to spend two hours above ground where you would sit in a nearby meadow, make daisy chains, and occasionally open up about what happened in the Capitol.

You liked to call it "the power of flowers". Stupid, but saying it always formed a little smile on your face and there was no harm in simple joy considering the cruelties you had endured. Most of the time, you were silent and would lie in Finnick's arms while making flower crowns. He was always patient; he understood you needed time. Day after day, he proved his unconditional love, and you thanked the universe for blessing you with such an incredible man.

"Oh no," you whispered.

"What is it?"

You dangled your broken daisy chain in front of you and Finnick.

"Oh no," he echoed.

Your back rested against his chest and his arms enveloped your body as he held his own effortlessly crafted yellow chain in your lap. Apparently, years of weaving fishing nets creates a master of making daisy chains.

"Here," he said, positioning his own flower crown on your head. "Beautiful."

Smiling, you turned your head to face him. "I'm going to tell everyone I made it."

The flowers sat like a golden halo atop your head, beaming just as bright as the smile Finnick had bloomed at the sight of you. Beauty was everything that you were; not just outwardly, but within the confines of your mind too. Flowers and sunlight were interwoven with your soul, making up the essence of who you were—loving and warm-hearted. One of the many reasons Finnick had fallen in love with you.

He would forever want to remain in your garden, tending to and protecting every petal that blossomed.

His thumb swiped affectionately across your cheek. "Of course you are, you thief," he murmured, grinning. "You owe me."

Your stomach flooded with butterflies and you leaned in, tenderly kissing him with soft pink lips. Finnick cupped your cheek, stroking the baby hairs of your hairline with his fingers as he smiled against your mouth. Even your lips tasted like sweet nectar to him.

After you pulled away, you settled back into his embrace, sinking into those arms that shielded you from any and all harm.

"Okay, I suppose you're forgiven," Finnick said, the smile present in his voice.

You toyed with his fingers while wearing a glowing smile of your own, his arms lovingly wrapped around your body. Oh, you loved him so endlessly.

As the sun began to lower, a mixture of orange and pink clouds blanketed the sky. The trees surrounding the meadow cast large shadows throughout the area, making it appear much darker than it really was. A subtle shift in the once tranquil atmosphere rippled through the meadow, happiness now becoming a distant and unreachable feeling.

The broken daisy chain crumpled in your hands no longer shined in the sun like a beautiful mess. It instead looked tangled. Chaotic. Darkened by the dimming light and transformed into something sinister that resurfaced haunting memories of the Capitol—twisted IV tubes filled with unknown substances, chains that removed layers of skin, decaying white roses that covered the floor of your cell.

Heaviness clutched at your heart, suffocating you from within.

Finnick sensed the sudden shift, loosening his hold around you as he whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I—I don't know," you stammered, the air thinning around you.

The wilting daisies started to taint your hands with darkness, creeping slowly up your arms and causing them to tremble. Finnick, who noticed your fixation on the daisy chain, gently took the flowers from your grasp and set them aside.

It was too late; the panic had already set in.

He turned your body to the side in his lap, forcing you to face him. Your eyes flickered with worry. No amount of pain could compare to the heartbreak he felt seeing you like this.

"Hey. Hey, look at me," he urged, his tone soothing. "Breathe with me, alright? In..." He inhaled deeply through his nose. "And out."

But it was no use. Air was caged within your lungs, burning like fiery hot whirlwinds inside your chest. It was all you could do to force rapid shallow breaths out of your mouth.

"No, no!" A tear fell from your eye as you fervently shook your head. "Finn, I ca—I can't."

"Yes, you can, baby," he said, pushing aside the hair that obscured your vision. His eyes searched the area, looking for anything that could help distract your frantic mind. That is when he spotted a small flock of birds perched on one of the tree branches, instantly recognising their black feathers and sharp beaks. "Look. See those birds? They're mockingjays."

Finnick pointed up at the tree, gaining your attention which then shifted to the birds that were gawking down at you with curious tilting heads. Mockingjays. Katniss. Rebellion. Hope. You focused all your attention on the little black birds and listened to Finnick's reassuring voice.

"They'll repeat any tune you make," he continued, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Can you do that for me? Try and whistle something for them?"

Attempting to control your ragged breathing, you jerkily nodded. Songs from the world before the war overtook your mind. At first, it was overwhelming as your mind scrambled for a suitable melody, fuelling your panicked state. But then you heard something familiar and focused on the familiar tune, one that was from your childhood.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep, my little baby,

When you wake you shall have,

All the pretty little horses.

It was a lullaby your mother sang whenever you were upset. Seemed fitting considering the situation. You managed to whistle the first few notes, albeit a little wobbly of course, hardly noticing the air that was starting to flow more freely into your lungs.

"That's it, sweet girl."

Once the mockingjays began echoing the song throughout the forest—far more beautifully than your broken whistles—you continued the melody until the end. When you finished, the birds continued to repeat the tune, singing your mother's lullaby over and over in the trees of District Thirteen.

Whilst sat cradled in Finnick's embrace, you quietly hummed along as he stroked soft patterns on your arm. Darkness and pain were long forgotten now. Your body no longer trembled with fear nor did your breathing. Memories of the Capitol's brutality were locked away and hidden in the back of your mind, diligently guarded by the man whose arms you lay in.

Golden beams filtered through the tree trunks; the sun was now lowered enough to let the warm light in, illuminating both you and Finnick. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, wrapping you up even tighter in his arms now that he was certain the worst had passed.

You clutched onto his arm and blew out a final stabilising breath, finding comfort in the strength and protection he held. The side of your head rested against his chest, the beats of his heart harmonising like a drum with the mockingjays' song.

You wanted to apologise but knew his response would be dismissive. You wanted to tell him how deeply you loved and appreciated him but knew your words would fail you.

So, you remained silent.

"You're safe," Finnick whispered into your hair. "Right here, right now. I promise."

Right here, right now, you repeated in your mind. In Finnick's arms, you were safe. You were loved.

tags: @tayrae515

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #sam claflin #odesta #finnick x reader

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lake-shark · 2 years ago

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finished my first OTA fieldwork yesterday 🎉

#one more to go #it was wonderful and i had wonderful patients #first one was at an inpatient stroke rehab #next is outpatient hand therapy #after a lil week long break #misha 7alk

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redstringredeye · 6 months ago

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What if in another universe we were a therapy office receptionist and you were a patient who looked like a perv who strokes orchids and what if we kissed 🥺

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #mine #magnus protocol #jonmartin #jmart

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axelsagewrites · 9 months ago

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Greetings!

I hope you don't mind me sliding in your ask box! I want to request Ivar x fem!reader, who suffers from a condition named vaginismus.

Vaginismus is a condition where the vagina cramps so hardly, that penetration is very painful. It can get treated by mental therapy and slowly getting comfortable with sex. It's mostly caused by traumatic events.

I seek for some wholesomeness combined with Ivar. You don't have to focus on any smut part if you'll feel uncomfortable, sole comfort would be enough!

Feel free to decline! Remember to drink enough and have a lovely day! ❤️

Ivar the Boneless*Does It Hurt?

Pairing: Ivar x f!reader

Word count: 1830

Warnings: insecurities, mentions of painful sex, mentions of shitty exes, make out, fingering, f!receiving oral, p in v sex, Ivar wanting to get revenge on the crappy ex, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Being with Ivar was the best decisions you’d ever made there was only one small issue. You'd never actually *been* with him. its not that you hadn’t had sex before, but it always just seemed to hurt. You’d tried in the past to just push through the pain, usually at the guy’s request, but you were done being in constant pain for someone else’s benefit. Which is partially why the rumours about Ivars’s bedroom mishap didn’t bother you.

You knew it was something he was insecure about and you’d assured him countless times it didn’t bother you. so, one night when you were making out sitting in his lap and you felt something hard pressing into you. You were a bit shocked to say the least. It must have all been nerves but now you were the one who was nervous. It’s not like you didn’t want to do it with Ivar you were just scared.

Ivar’s hand slowly trailed up your leg, stroking over your thigh, till he was squeezing your hip as you moaned into the kiss. You had been with Ivar for a while now, but you had never been *with* him. your hands crept down his shoulders till you were squeezing his muscular arms. Despite the taunts some people liked to make you could feel something hard grinding against your leg.

He broke the kiss but only to trail some down your neck, going between nipping and kissing the sensitive skin. It felt like bliss. His hands slowly began to tug at your skirts, pulling them up so he could feel the soft flesh of your thighs but when you felt him try push them apart you couldn’t help but clamp up, your body going rigid.

Ivar paused his movements, pulling away to face you after a moment, “Is everything okay my love?” he asked. There was a mix of emotions behind his eyes; insecurity, lust but most presently concern.

“I-I,” you began to stutter making Ivar move his hand from your leg to cup your jaw.

He stroked his thumb gently across your skin, “Have you never…?” he asked, voice trailing off.

You took a deep breath before shaking your head, “I have its just,” you said as you sat up in bed, Ivar moving to sit beside you are holding your hand, “It hurts whenever I have before,”

“Hurts how?”

You sighed as you decided you may as well just tell him. the last guy you had told just rolled his eyes and left to find someone else for that night, but Ivar waited patiently as you explained, “Whenever I’ve tried to have sex it just kind of hurts? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not that I don’t want you,” you said, squeezing his hand, “it just feels like it won’t go in and when it does it just- “

“Hurts?” he said cutting off your rambles, “it’s okay love. We don’t have to- “

“But I want too, I swear I do- “

“I believe you,” he cut you off, moving to hold your face gently. Ivar placed a soft kiss to your lips instantly calming you down, “Is it just when things are going in?” he asked, and you nodded. His eyes moved to scan your frame as his hand moved to rest on your thigh, “We could always try something else,” he said, eyes moving to meet yours with a glint behind them.

You felt your cheeks begin to heat up, “I know men don’t actually like that stuff- “

“What idiot told you that?”

“This guy I used to- “you paused when you saw Ivars’s jaw tense, “It was a long time ago but some of the things he said just kind of stuck with me I guess,”

“Like what?”

You took a deep breath before spilling out, “That guys don’t like that kind of stuff and it was my problem not his. How it was my job to get him off and not the other way around and if I was broken then there were other ways to do that- “

Ivar took your hands tightly in his, making you pause, “No. it is not a job or a chore or anything else. You are not broken. You are just different,” he said, moving one of his hands to rest over your heart, “We both are. That’s what you used to tell me,” he said, his voice low. “You were there for me when no one else was. I want to be there for you. whether we have sex or not and whatever sex is to us. We take it at our pace, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered back, half on the verge of crying as Ivars other hand moved to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

Well, it was supposed to be gentle, but you found your lips moving faster and soon you’d moved to straddle his lap as his hands gently squeezed your hips. You could feel his bulge through his trousers and you grinded against it softly making him groan into your mouth.

“Lay on your back,” he mumbled against your lips. you went to speak but he cut you off with a kiss, “trust me,” something about his eyes staring into yours entranced you and soon you were laying down as his lips travelled down your jaw and neck.

You were still in your dress, but his hands soon pulled it up till it was around your waist as he kissed down your collarbones. You felt your body tensed as Ivars’s hand inched closer to your core. “We’ll go slow, okay? tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered. You nodded quickly and sucked in your breath when you felt his fingers push against your clit.

He moved them in slow circles as his lips sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck. Little moans escaped your lips, and you heard Ivar chuckle when your hips began to buck. You whined when he pulled his fingers away but watched with fixed eyes as he shuffled down your body till his hot breath fanned over your cunt.

Ivar began to kiss your inner thighs, leading a trail up to your core. When his tongue licked up your cunt you couldn’t help but gasp. It soon turned into a moan however when his mouth wrapped around your clit. Your hand quickly found his hair, tugging on it gently which only seemed to spur his movements on as he groaned against your cunt sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel a strange new sensation growing in your stomach. “Please,” you murmured, “Don’t stop,” you began to beg, and Ivar had no intensions of stopping anytime soon. he moved down till you could feel his tongue poking at your hole, easing in so he could gently fuck you with his tongue while his nose rubbed against your clit.

The sensation had you gripping his hair tightly, your hips bucking inadvertently as you grinded gently on his face. Ivar locked his arms around your thighs, stopping you from wiggling away as he continued his merciless assault on your cunt till, he felt your thighs squeezing around his head.

A stream of profanity and his name fell from your lips as you felt yourself crash over the wall. Ivar didn’t move however till he was sure you’d ridden out your peak. When he did pull back his eyes were dark as he moved to kiss your lips hard as you moaned into the kiss.

His fingers trailed up your slit before gently pushing the tip of his finger in, “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered as he pushed further in, curling his finger inside of you making you moan. it hurt a little but not enough to want to stop. You might scream if he stopped as he began to slowly fuck you with one finger before slowly adding another.

His thumb moved to rub circles over your clit, and you could feel another peak quickly approaching, “Ivar?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Yes love?” he asked, pulling away with panting breath.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, taking him by surprise as his eyes went wide.

He quickly tried to cover up his reaction, “Are you sure?”

“Please don’t make me beg,” you pouted but it just sparked a joy behind his eyes.

“Maybe I’d like it if you did,” he said, pulling his fingers out which made you whine until you saw him pushing his trousers down, releasing his painfully hard cock.

He moved till his tip was lined with your hole when he paused, “Tell me if- “

“I will, I promise,” you said, grabbing his face and making him look you in the eyes, “I trust you,”

His eyes went soft for a moment before he nodded and slowly began to push in. he stopped when he saw you hissing as you adjusted to his size but kept going at your encouragement. “Fuck,” he gasped as he pushed the last bit in, “You feel so good,”

You waited a moment, adjusting to the size before moving your hips. Ivar quickly got the hint and began to set a gentle pace. That was till your legs moved to wrap around his waist and Ivar began fucking you faster, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he moaned your praises in your ear.

His hand moved between your bodies, finding your clit as he rubbed fast circles into your abused nerves. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin which only made it harder for him not to cum right then and there. But he did his best to hold off. You however felt your second orgasm quickly approaching and soon your cunt began to squeeze around his cock as you hit your peak, mumbling his name over and over as you did.

The sight of it, the feeling, it was too much for Ivar as he gripped onto the bed tightly as he pumped his final few thrusts before spilling inside you. Ivar collapsed on top of you in a panting heap. His head was resting on your chest as you rubbed his back gently. “Did I hurt you?” he mumbled through half closed eyes.

“No Ivar, it was perfect,”

Ivar lifted his head with a soft smile, “No you were perfect,” he moved to lay next to you, pulling his shirt over his head to use to clean you up before you settled into bed to cuddle. It was a perfect silence. Well for a few moments, “Who was he?”

“Who was who?”

“The man you were seeing before,” Ivar said making you turn to look at him.

Your eyes scanned his face, but he could hide his emotions when he wanted to, “Why?” you asked sceptically.

“No reason. Just think we should have a little talk is all,”

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cupids-chamber · 2 years ago

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@. People I would cheat on my boyfriend with.. . ♡ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Genshin version ## Low quality and low effort slides because finals sucks!

. ROOK HUNT ;

Odd smile or grin, I mean Rook always has this ridiculous oui oui bitch smirk grin on his motherfucking face, but today? It was different. It was more huter-y if that’s even a word.

The moment you turn away, Rook’s glaring at your pc as you open the slides, as if it’s his mortal enemy.

Bro looks like a fucking hitman with the looks he’s putting out. His facial expression radiates wtf energy.

Aww so sweet, so cute mon cherie..—Now change the fucking slides.

"What's on the next slide my sweet?"

Run bitch run.

Why are you hiding your screen

what is there to hide

you have nothing to hide

what do you even need to hide.

Why hide.

Communication is key :)

. VIL SCHOENHEIT ;

Lowkey glaring at you while you explain the slides, like 'excuse you fuckass am I not good enough for you?'

Will start getting passive aggressive, calm? What is calm? Is there anything truly ‘calm’ in this world?... He’s patiently waiting.. For the slides to load… Standing, posing like your mom outside your door with a sandal core.

Slowly becoming a nagging housewife as he insults your slow as fuck computer.

Begins fucking scrolling immediately, legit scoots you over.

Truthfully you're more surprised he didn’t question the picture you choose for the cover but his pacing is lowkey scaring you? You did this on a dare.. And you put a 50 slide gap.. And Vil was going through each slide fast… Hell you even put a compliment on each slide.

Stroking your little beauty queens ego always worked… except now.. He’s been remarkably quiet.. And that is surprisingly more unnerving and unsettling than anything else VIl could possibly do..

Well you’ve done it now.. He’s mumbling.. With gritted teeth, he’s not even glaring.. And frankly you don’t want to see his facial expression.

And then he starts laughing.. But not laughing in like “LMFAOO LOL SO HILARIOUS” but more of a lowkey “I’m going to kill you”

“Potato… care to explain a few things?”

“I- ugh.. um.. have an appointment”

“Not anymore”

. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ;

Kitty’s got claws, bro finna commit a crime.

Just looks at you and smiles. ‘I control my emotions, my emotions don’t control me’ core

Was therapy working? Probably not his lazy ass avoids them like the common flu.

You saw his expression soften for a moment and you lean in and give him a hug. Effectively distracting him.. and then you scroll like God’s given you 20 fucking seconds to live and breath.

“WHAT THE FUCK HERBIVORE??” and then the screen fades to Malleus..

And then it automatically scrolls to Rook...

"..."

Oh you fucked up.

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divinecarephysio · 1 year ago

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TMJ Dysfunction Management - Physiotherapy langley - Divine care physiotherapy

Temporomandibular joint has a very important function in our daily activities such as chewing, talking, blowing, swallowing etc. and its dysfunction can be very debilitating to an individual. TMJ dysfunction can cause pain, limited movements and clicking. It is not life threatening, but If not treated, it can be detrimental to an individual’s quality of life. TMJ dysfunction can occur due to several causes such as,

Whiplash

Poor posture

Bruxism (excessive grinding or clenching of teeth)

Disc displacement

Degenerative joint disease (Arthritis of TMJ)

Psychological factors

Trauma

Signs and symptoms TMJ pain, Restricted movements in TMJ, Clicking in TMJ, Sometimes Headaches Treatment

Your physiotherapist can help you to manage TMJ dysfunction depending on the condition you might have and also collaborates with other professionals depending on the need.

A physiotherapist who has experience in treating TMJ dysfunctions, with the help of his TMJ management skills can help you to reduce pain, improve mobility and give you an exercise program to maintain the function of TMJ.

Divine care physio is a group of talented physiotherapists in Langley helping patients recover from their injuries and health issues using various therapy techniques like physical therapy, acupuncture therapy, shock wave therapy, laser therapy etc. For Physiotherapy in langley, we could be the best option for a better solution.

For more info:

www.divinecarephysio.com

Our Instagram page:

www.instagram.com/divinecarephysiotherapy

Our LinkedIn page:

www.linkedin.com/in/divinecare-physiotherapy

Our Pinterest page:

www.pinterest.ca/divinecarephysio

Contact: 604-401-2946

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stormz369 · 2 months ago

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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 10

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

A/N: whaaaat? 2 chapters in 2 days? What can I say; everyone's reactions have kept my attention right here (where it belongs!) Thank you all for the incredible feedback! 😍

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: angst, unofficial therapy, previous attempted assault and other violence mentioned briefly (non-descriptively), Jason has trouble with his feelings

wc: 2.1k

Chapter Selection

Jason plopped onto the couch beside me, offering me a plate stacked high with steak, mashed potatoes, and grilled asparagus.

“Thanks baby! What do you want to watch tonight?”

He hummed softly, considering, and named one of the shows I was introducing him to. I queued up the next episode and tucked my toes under his leg. He chuckled, wrapping a blanket around my feet. “God, you're always cold, aren't you?”

“Just my feet.” I shrugged, eating happily.

We sat quietly together, watching our show while we ate, and I reveled in the casual domesticity of it. Everything felt so right about this… Jason's hand brushed against mine as he took my empty plate and set it on the table for me. His eyes slowly met mine before glancing back down at my lips.

“... Doll?” His voice was barely a whisper. I paused the show, worried I'd miss whatever he said next. “... You said … we would talk about things? … We'd figure this out together, yeah?”

I nodded, leaning forward a bit. “Yeah, is there something you want to talk about?”

Jason nodded slowly, looking down at his lap. “... Yeah, but … I don't know how to say this … it's awkward…”

I nodded slowly, offering him my hand. He shakily took it, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. “Do you … I want … fuck, I should have prepared something…”

His knees came up to his chest as he chewed on his lower lip. Humming softly, I lead his hand to my lips, kissing his knuckles. “Just breathe, Jay. There's no judgment here, take your time. … Do you think you can give me the topic?”

He shivered a bit, watching me. I took slow, deliberate breaths and he eventually matched his breathing to mine. “... Topic, right … um … intimacy…?”

I nodded, smiling gently, and placed another kiss to his hand. “Good topic; are we talking physical? Emotional? Something else?”

“... Both? … Mostly physical?”

I nodded again. “Ok. … Is this ok?” I gestured to his hand in mine, held against my cheek. He nodded quickly, a nervous look flashing through his eyes.

“Yes! Yes, that's good, I … this isn't a bad thing, I … It's just …”

“An awkward and uncomfortable conversation?” He nodded again. “That’s ok. We can do hard things. … Just to be clear; is there anything we've done already that wasn't good, or that you want to stop doing?”

He shook his head quickly; “no! No, everything has been incredible. I … god, you are so patient, I just …” he took a deep breath, shutting his eyes tightly; “I-wanna-do-more-but-I-don’t-know-how-much-more-exactly-and-I’m-worried-I’m-gonna-mess-it-up!”

I blinked a bit and giggled softly, stroking his hand gently. “O- ok. I think I caught that. … It sounds like the boundaries of your comfort zone have shifted?” he nodded. “And you'd like to figure out where they are now?” Another nod. “Ok. How would you like to proceed?”

A panicked look crossed his face before he hid against his knees. “... I was … kinda hoping you could tell me how to do this …”

I nodded slowly. “Ok … well, normally I might suggest we just try things and see what works, but-” he whined softly. “I'm guessing you'd rather have some idea of where the lines are before I touch you any more than this?”

He slowly nodded, grumbling into his thighs. “... God, what the fuck is wrong with me???” He groaned, thudding his forehead against his knees. “This is not that hard! Why can't I just-”

I gently squeezed his hand between both of mine. “Jay, no baby. Listen to me; … do you remember that week where you were in Blüdhaven and your phone broke?”

He nodded. “And then we had our first date.”

“Right. And you took me home after. … No rational woman would allow a man she has met once to take her home after a first date. Not in this city. You know why I did? … Because I didn't want to take the bus home in the dark the night after I was almost attacked on my way home from work. I was afraid, and it makes perfect sense that I was afraid. Right?”

He nodded, frowning, and pulled me into a hug. “... I wish I could have done more … I … I'm so sorry…”

My arms wrapped around his shoulders, and one hand made its way into his hair. “I'm ok now. Nothing happened; Red Hood saw to that. … I'm telling you this because if it makes sense that I had trouble taking the bus after that, even though taking the bus is not hard, doesn't it also make sense that you would have trouble with this?”

Jason's arms tightened around me; “... why does it make sense?”

“You’ve said that your childhood was … less than ideal. When a person's key development years are plagued with pain and fear, it makes perfect sense for new situations to be extra scary, even when they know that it's a good new situation. … I know we haven't talked about too many details, but I can guess at some of it, and if any of my guesses are even partially correct then of course this is a lot for you. … We're walking blindly into the dark, of course you don't want to run full speed ahead straight into a wall.”

He chuckled softly, slowly nodding. “... We've just gotta find the light switch?”

“Exactly!” I grinned. “And until we do, we'll inch around the room with our hands held out.”

Jay nodded, hugging me close. “Ok … how do we do that?”

“Well, I have some ideas … they're probably gonna seem really silly though.”

“Silly is fine.”

The paper in my hands was a mess of red and orange. We had printed out some of those body outlines they use in therapy; color coding them to correspond to where we were ok with being touched. Red for no, orange for not yet but I want to get ok with this sooner rather than later, yellow for ask first, and green for yes. Jason took a few home to think about overnight.

I'd come to his place so we could give them to each other. We'd sat on the couch, having tea to settle Jason's nerves before going over them. He went to the bathroom and I got up to throw out my tea bag. I hadn't meant to snoop through his trash; it was just there, crumpled up on top.

I felt him behind me, frozen in the doorway. I slowly turned, looking up at him, and smiled gently. “... Jay?”

He flinched, stepping back toward the bathroom. “... Um … that isn't … I … changed my mind?”

I nodded slowly, holding out my hand for him. He shakily stepped toward me, staring at the floor. We inched toward the couch; Jason's breathing was ragged like he'd been for a long run. “... Jay, can I see the one you were going to give me?”

He slowly looked over at the pristine paper he'd placed face down on the table. After a moment he flipped it over. The head and neck were green, the arms were green, the torso was yellow, the legs were orange, and the crotch was orange. I smoothed out the crumpled paper in my hands, laying them side by side. Green head, green hands, and red everywhere else.

“... Baby? What happened?”

He stared at them, frowning deeply. “... I just changed my mind, princess. Promise.”

“... Jay, … no. … The facts of your life are facts whether I know them or not. You feel the way you feel, whether you tell me about it or not. You don't have to tell me anything you aren't ready to tell me, but I cannot act in your best interest based off of lies. So please, do not lie to try to make me more comfortable. Not ever.”

He clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut. “... I … this is where I want to be,” he pointed to the new one. “... But realistically, … I'm probably closer to this…” he moved his hand toward the crumpled one.

I nodded; “... Can I hug you?”

Jason looked over at me and slowly nodded. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, stroking his hair gently. “... Jay, it's ok that you're not where you'd like to be. I will do whatever you need to help you get there. But I can't help if you're pushing past your comfort zone like that. … I don't want to hurt you, baby.”

He sniffled softly, hugging me tight, and we sat like that for a long while. Eventually he pulled back, not looking up at me. “Got another one of those?”

I nodded, kissing his forehead, and found him one of the spares we'd printed. “Want me to give you a few minutes alone?” He nodded slowly, staring at it. “Ok, I'm gonna walk down to the corner store, I'll get us some snacks, and you think about where you realistically are with this. Ok?”

Jason nodded again, gently squeezing my hands as he hesitantly looked up into my eyes; there was so much emotion swirling on his face - fear, and adoration, and a desperate need pooled in his eyes as he whispered; “... I … I love you…”

My heart swelled and cracked open. He looked so delicate, looking up at me like that, and all I wanted was to hold him in my arms and take care of him. I gently cupped his unmarred cheek, remembering how he would flinch when I reached toward the scarred side, and slid my thumb over his soft skin. “I love you too, Jason. With all my heart, I love you.”

His eyes darted across my face, drinking me in. A soft smile slowly slid in place, and I thought that might be hope filling his eyes. He kissed my palm before releasing me, and I leaned back, getting ready to go so he could think about the paper.

Jason texted me when he was done, and I returned to the apartment with several large bags of snack foods and drinks. He looked up at me slowly when I opened the door, smiling weakly. “Hey sweetie, what are you thinking over there?”

“... I really hate this, but it's accurate.”

I nodded, sitting next to him. I laid out the snacks and drinks I'd brought so he could take what he liked. “Can I see it?”

His hand trembled as he passed it to me. Green head - except for a yellow patch on his scarred cheek-, green hands, yellow lower arms, orange upper arms, red from the chest to thighs, yellow calves, green feet. I nodded, smiling softly. “I'm so proud of you, Jay.”

“... You're … what?” he frowned, confused.

“I'm proud of you. Introspection is difficult, but you did it anyway. And now we have something to work with.” He looked flabbergasted, staring at me like I'd grown another head. I chuckled softly and offered him my drawing; significantly more green than his, but I of course had my own ‘no’ ‘no, but maybe soon?’ and ‘ask first’ areas.

Jason looked over mine, nodding a bit. “... So … it looks like this area is green for both of us,” he pointed to the face on my drawing; “... Maybe we could … do something about that?”

I chuckled softly, gently cupping his cheek. “Jay, is that your way of asking without asking if you can kiss me?”

He blushed brightly, looking away a bit. “... If it is?”

“Then you're adorable~”

He slowly looked at my lips again, taking my hand that wasn't on his face and bringing it to his other cheek. I was almost afraid to breathe; he had never let me touch this scar before. Said it was from a particularly bad day, and he didn't really want to talk about it. Now it was under my hand…

Jason's eyes finally met mine, he looked so vulnerable and needy. I took a deep breath, gently stroking his cheeks with my thumbs, and he sighed softly. “... That ok?”

He nodded, whispering; “yeah, that's good … can … can I?”

I nodded. “You saw my colors, you know where you can touch.”

He nodded again, gently cupping my cheeks, and slowly pulled me forward. Our lips barely grazed each other before he stopped; his hands were trembling against me. I gently guided him toward me, pressing a little more firmly into the kiss. He slowly relaxed into it, but continued to let me lead. Eventually I pulled back to breathe, reveling in the soft, whiny moan that poured from his lips as we parted.

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Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules

#fanfic #fanfiction #dc fanfic #jason todd #red hood x reader #dc #first person pov #jason todd x reader #no y/n #wayne family adventures #Can I Get Your Number?

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