that last ask has me thinking about soft daddy Henry who cares so much about your mental health. I have adhd (not bad but it’s there) and I really struggle with depression and anxiety in the wrong environment. I can just see daddy!Henry mode activated if you went to a party you didn’t know would be so loud and chaotic. He has you lean against a corner and breathe in sync with him, uses his charm to find a perfect excuse to leave. You’re all “I’ll be okay, we don’t have to go,” and he just gives you that daddy look like he can’t believe you would downplay your needs like that, and he low (high) key wants to spank you for it. And then he cuddles you all night long. But then if you get depressed (maybe you’re PMSing, maybe someone said something that triggered a bad thought cycle), he runs you a bubble bath and pours you a glass of wine and rubs your shoulders and snuggles you through your favorite Disney movie. And goodness help them, if someone did say something negative to you, but he would spend the night making you fall apart on his fingers and tongue until you forgot all about that silly person 🤭
(Henry is a big protective bear in this one, so a gif of Walter had to be used obviously.)
Overwhelmed
A party gets out of hand when some harsh words are thrown around. Henry is there to pick up the pieces, but it’s not always so easy healing your broken mind. (Based on this original ask)
Warning: 18+ smutty content, RPF, minor alcohol consumption, bullying, minor violence, bad thoughts and self image, mental health issues, panic attacks, comfort, daddy kink (not exactly dd/lg, but could have undertones), oral (f receiving), Henry being a gentleman and expecting nothing in return 🤭, multiple orgasms
5.1k words
Any typos are my own
******
This was supposed to be a small get together. That’s what you were told. A plan for a few friends to gather for a couple drinks at home. Maybe you would play some board games.
But a few people quickly turned into loads. And a couple drinks was soon an incessant river of alcohol. Now you found yourself stuck in the middle of a jumping house party.
At least thirty sweaty bodies were packed into the mediocre sized home. And new faces seemed to be showing up every minute. And the only person you knew in this place, Henry, had left to go get you some water when he saw you start to panic.
This definitely wasn’t your kind of crowd.
Miraculously, he had found a quiet corner for you to wait in. So that is where you waited for him, as patiently as you could. You did your best to remain calm as the loud music thudded in the other room. The vibrations rattled your throbbing head. You leaned against the wall in the empty hallway, sighing.
Why did social gatherings like this overwhelm you? It always seemed like a good idea in theory. A place to meet with people, an opportunity to make new friends. But your imbalanced brain had a way of ruining things. You could never enjoy yourself. And you were sure you weren’t a joy to be around when you got overstimulated like this.
Wait for Henry, you told yourself. Don’t get too worked up. He will be back soon.
You heard footsteps approaching, so you lifted your head with a weak smile. You were expecting him to return, and all would be well again. Only it wasn’t him. Instead it was the host of the party, the one who told you it was a small gathering.
Jake. A friend of Henry’s. One that always gave you bad vibes. You bit your tongue with your bad feelings about him. If your man liked him, so should you. You were being paranoid. As always.
“Hi, Jake.” You wiped the anxious sweat from your brow, offering him a polite smile. “Quite the party.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you left already.” His voice seemed to be laced with distaste, but you figured you were imagining it.
“I’m waiting for Henry. He left to get us some water.” You explained, wiping your damp palms on your thighs.
“Your little errand boy, right?”
“H-Huh?” You uttered in confusion. Errand boy?
“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, don’t you? You say jump and he says how high.” He spat, crossing his arms
“Jake, I’m not-” Perhaps you were about to stick up for yourself, but he cut you off again so the words died in your throat.
“He can’t seem to go anywhere without you tagging along. Asking him for a guys night is like pulling teeth. Always spending time with the old ball and chain. You’re nagging him 24/7, aren’t you?” He scoffed.
“No, I…” You trailed off, thinking long and hard. Did you nag him?
Jake gave you hardly any time to think before spurting out more insults.
“Y’know I never could see what he saw in you. No one can. The man can get anyone. Everyone knows that. So why does he go and pick a ugly slag like you?” He jabbed, and you felt your eyes prick.
Your chest tightened. That was a question you asked yourself everyday. Everytime you woke up next to Henry. When he greeted you with a kiss and a smile. A beautiful way to start the day. But deep down it made you feel vulnerable.
What did you do to deserve him? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were nobody. A nobody with a broken mind.
“Why don’t you leave so the man can actually have some fun for once?” He was right.
You blinked and didn’t say anything. You took his advice though, wobbling away as your heart began to beat quicker. You had to get out of here. The front door never seemed so far away.
You could already feel yourself spiraling as you rounded the corner to the living room. It was packed and loud. More people shuffled into your sight range. With each new face, it felt harder to breathe. You were suffocated.
You inhaled shakily, stumbling a little. You collided with a hard body, and as you were about to whip around a pair of hands cupped your shoulders. You tried to turn and apologize, but the person spoke.
“Darling? Are you alright?” Henry. You looked at him, taking in his features. He was here to protect you. But why weren’t you able to calm down?
His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. Everything was muffled. The people, the music, his voice. It all sounded far away. Like you were underwater.
Your breathing was labored, your brain dissociating when the panic almost overtook you. The only way you were going to survive this was by detaching your mind from your body.
You felt yourself being moved. His solid presence was behind you, holding you by your shoulders. Your attention was focused on the floor. Pairs of shuffling shoes invaded your vision as he guided you through the crowd.
The fresh air entered your lungs when he got you outside. Cool and refreshing, unlike the stuffy hot air inside the house. Your hands shook as you reached up to hold your face, hiccuping when you were forced back to reality.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe, I promise.” His hand gently laid on your back, not crowding you.
“Breathe, baby. Breathe in against my hand here.” He placed his other palm on your stomach, a gentle reminder to breathe in through your diaphragm.
You closed your eyes, inhaling as you concentrated on not panicking. Your breathing was shaky but it did wonders to calm you. His soft voice rang in your ears, praising you.
“There she is, good girl. I knew you could do it, I knew you could work yourself down.” He murmured.
He stroked your moist cheek, pushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead. You leaned into his touch, your rapid heart slowing.
“Darling, what happened in there?” His face showed his worry.
“I… I got a little overwhelmed. That’s all.” You murmured while glancing down at the ground. He didn’t need to know about your encounter with Jake.
He rubbed the base of your neck sympathetically. He could tell there was more. Something was bothering you.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t realize it would be so crowded.” He kissed your temple as he apologized.
“It’s alright. Neither of us could have known Jake would invite everyone he knew.” You gave him a weak smile, shaking your head.
You thought you kept your tone even while speaking about that wretched man. Henry caught it. He didn’t let his surprise be known. He was confused by your sudden annoyance towards Jake, who you tolerated before.
“Let’s go home, princess. I think we’ve had enough fun for one night.” He took your hand, kissing your knuckles while giving you a dazzling smile.
You frowned, disappointed in yourself for not being able to handle a simple house party. He had seemed really excited about this get together. Even as more people showed up, he kept his smile and light heartedness. That was until your mood had dropped.
Jake was right. Henry couldn’t have fun with you around. You ruin everything. Quickly, you had to fix this.
“No, no- I’m okay. I-I only needed a breather.” You shook your head frantically, swallowing. You grimaced when you realized how dry your throat was.
His expression dropped slightly, resembling a scold. He held the water out to you after opening it, silently urging you to drink. You took the bottle sheepishly, sipping from it slowly.
“We’re not staying here anymore. We need to go home and decompress. Both of us.” He sighed when you pouted, softening his features as he rubbed your shoulders. He leaned in, kissing between your brows as you furrowed them.
“I really need to snuggle my favorite girl right now, okay? We can have a nice bubble bath. I’ll wash you up then maybe we can watch a movie after I get you into some warm pajamas.” He leveled with you, cupping your cheek.
“Okay...” You smiled weakly. Cuddling with him sounded better than anything.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He started to turn towards the car.
“Hey, you two!” A voice called out from behind you, a familiar one that made you both freeze. For different reasons.
Henry spun around first, a grin on his face as he greeted his friend. They embraced in a hug as you turned slowly, trying to keep a polite smile. You hoped Jake would just let you two go without any snide comment.
The man in question spared you a glance as Henry patted his shoulder.
“Hey, man. This has been quite the party. Y/N and I had a great time.”
“Really? You’re leaving so soon.” Jake questioned, his brow raising in suspicion.
“Oh, I’ve got an early meeting in the morning. My manager contacted me with some stuff about emergency re-shoots. You know how it goes, man.” He quickly came up with a solid excuse, smooth as ever.
“Yeah, I know how it goes. It’s whatever the lady says right, pal?” Jake took a hearty swig of his beer, staring your man in the eye as his face dropped. You shifted on your feet, looking down in shame.
“Sorry?”
“Tell me, does she carry your balls around in her purse? Because you seem to have lost your pair.” He bit out viciously, the liquid courage burning in his chest.
“What did you just say?” Henry reared up, taking one long stride to get right in the other man’s face.
His brows were pinched angrily. Jake’s eyes widened in the slightest, but the alcohol in his system was making him braver. He didn’t back down.
“You heard me. Ever since she’s been tagging along, you’ve turned into an utter bore. Must be some good pussy, because it seems to have sucked the life out of you.” He spit.
The anger that flashed on your boyfriend’s face was bone-chilling. In the blink of an eye, he had the smaller man’s collar clenched in his fists. Yanking him upwards, Henry shook him while growling.
“Do you think the fact that you’re hammered is going to keep me from punching your teeth in? I’m going to make you regret disrespecting her.” He growled dangerously.
You finally came to your senses when you saw him pull his fist backwards. Jake flinched. Thankfully you were able to stop your boyfriend before his knuckles were to connect with the drunk’s jaw.
“Don’t.” You gasped softly, catching his gaze while holding his arm in both of your hands. His eye twitched as his fist clenched tighter. You felt the tendons in his forearm jerk. You squeezed reassuringly.
You shook your head silently, a wordless plea for him to not escalate this. Punching him would only make things worse. Jake wasn’t worth it.
The anger dissipated from his face as he gazed at you. He lowered his fist, while his other hand on Jake’s collar loosened. Henry was about to let him go completely, until Jake scoffed under his breath.
“Pfft. Pussy-whipped.”
The actor’s face twisted once more. You sighed, cursing the hammered bastard mentally. He wasn’t making this any easier. You could tell Henry was still itching to beat him mercilessly. Said man grunted, your hand falling from his arm as he gripped Jake’s collar once more.
The large man lifted the smaller one off the ground. At least three feet upwards before tossing him on the grass in the front yard. You grimaced as he fell on his back in a heavy heap. Luckily Henry chose to drop him in the grass, as opposed to the pavement.
You could see Jake’s ego wounded immediately, and you would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. You crossed your arms, holding in a sigh as Henry bent down to talk to him.
“Don’t bother trying to apologize tomorrow when you sober up. Or else I’ll be forced to come back here and finish what I started.” He stood up, glaring at him for one last moment before he turned to you.
“Let’s go.” He whispered, walking behind you as he led you to the car. He kept you from even sparing at glance at Jake.
You were silent as he got you in the car, looking down at your lap as he got in the driver's seat. He looked at you, you could feel his stare burning into you. Shame kept you from looking at him.
“Darling… Did Jake say something to you earlier?” He finally broke the silence.
You opened your mouth, before closing it with a nod. Tears welled up as you recalled his hurtful words. From earlier in the night, and from now.
“What did he say to you?” He prodded.
You finally looked at him, and his jaw ticked when he saw your puffy eyes. Right then, he felt like going back and beating that idiot to a pulp for making his baby girl cry. Your sniffles broke his heart.
“I-I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it.” You hiccuped, shaking your head.
“Is that what got you so upset?” His voice was soft, almost broken with guilt. He should have never left you alone.
You shrugged, Jake’s badgering surely didn’t help your already overstimulated mind. Henry bit his lip as he was forced to push away his anger to comfort you. He stroked your hair, rubbing your shoulder.
“Baby..” He trailed off, being interrupted by you.
“I just want to go home. And take that bubble bath you promised.” You begged, causing him to sigh and let it go for now. He gave you a smile.
“Of course, sweetheart. Let's go home.” He kissed your cheek before pulling away, turning the car on and driving.
Your eyelids were heavy, your head resting on your hand. You let them close for the rest of the car ride home. Your silence was making him want to squirm, but he did his best to not show his displeasure. It killed him to see you so upset.
When he parked he was sure you had fallen asleep, but you surprised him by lifting your head. He turned the car off, reaching to cup your cheek.
“Are you okay, my baby girl?” He searched your face for any more signs of tears. He saw only the dried streaks from earlier.
You gave him a weak smile, and it did little to mend his broken heart. He matched your smile though, stroking your hair away from your face as you leaned into his hand.
“I’m okay. I promise.” Your voice was softer, smaller.
He leaned forward to kiss you, and you kissed back half heartedly. Henry pulled away, knowing you were still trying to put on a brave face for him.
His brave girl. You didn’t always have to be strong. That’s what he was here for. He wasn’t going to push you. You would talk to him eventually. You always did.
“Let’s get inside, pumpkin.” He kissed your knuckles before getting out of the car. Of course he opened your door and helped you out.
You held his hand as he led you inside. He knelt in front of you once he closed the door, working on taking your heels off for you.
“You look so beautiful tonight… I still can’t believe you gave a man like me even a chance.” He murmured the last part to himself, rubbing your ankles when your shoes were gone.
You couldn’t quell the quiver of your lip. You’re the one who didn’t deserve him. Not in the slightest. Jake was right. What does a man like him see in a woman like you?
You masked with a smile, stroking his hair as he kissed your clothed hips. He watched you carefully, still on his knees in front of you.
“What do I have to do for you to see how perfect you are?” He whispered as he nuzzled your stomach, squeezing you close.
You hiccuped quietly. Your fingers weaved into his hair, feeling his silky curls between your digits. The sensation calmed you a little.
Soon, his warmth pulled away and when you opened your eyes again, he was standing. He cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing your flesh.
“I promised you a bubble bath. Come on, sweetheart.” He bent down to kiss your nose. You smiled lightly.
You both went into the master bathroom, where you sat on the closed toilet lid. He turned to mess with the knobs on the large tub. The water filled the basin, then he added bubbles.
You took a deep breath, the soft smell of vanilla and brown sugar filled your nostrils. The scent caused you to relax, the sound of the water lulling you into a calm state.
Henry stood up, helping you stand and start to undress. His fingers unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your body and pool at your feet on the tile floor. You shivered when his digits trailed over your form. They hooked on your panties and pulled them down your legs.
He helped you into the tub, and you let out a sigh as you sunk into the warm, scented water. The bubbles covered your chest, and you let yourself rest for a second. He stroked your hair, an added comfort to the warm bath.
“How does that feel, darling?” He spoke softly, his hands disappearing. You heard liquid being poured into a glass.
The sneaky devil had snagged a bottle of your favorite wine before coming up here. He was pouring it into the stemmed glass. Somehow you hadn’t noticed he grabbed it. He glanced back at you with a smirk. How did he know exactly what you needed?
“It feels perfect.” You whispered, in awe of this man. He handed you the wine, and you took a smooth sip. You hummed.
Well, it was almost perfect. There was one thing missing.
“Come in with me?” You blinked up at him, your hand wrapped around his wrist when he went to sit beside the tub.
He melted, nodding his head instantly. Anything you wanted, he would not hesitate to give to you. And anything he couldn’t do, it killed him that he wasn’t able to fulfill your every need. Thankfully, this was a simple request. He began to undress as you set the glass aside.
You watched him unashamed. This beautiful man was yours. All yours. You felt your heart begin to swell. As it always did when you thought about the fact that you were his and he was yours.
How did something like that happen to someone like you? It was unbelievable.
You scooted forward as he lowered himself in. He dragged you back into his chest after he was seated, making you relax in his embrace. He began to wash you, his breath ghosting over your shoulder as he kissed it.
“It kills me seeing you so upset.” Henry finally spoke after a lull of comfortable silence.
You pouted, feeling guilty about worrying him. Before you could open your mouth to apologize, he cut you off.
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” He turned your head, looking at you seriously. “None of this is your fault.”
You closed your mouth, swallowing your apology as he stroked your cheek. He sighed to himself as he traced your lower lip with his thumb.
“It took every ounce of my self control not to beat him to a bloody pulp for disrespecting you.” His voice was flat.
The protective tone he held made your heart skip a beat, and a tingle to grow between your legs. A smile ghosted your lips, your hand coming up to cup his face.
“I know. I’m starting to think I should have let you.” You cracked a smile. A real one.
“I would have. All you have to do is ask.” He turned to kiss your palm. You laid your head on his shoulder, his arms around you making you feel safe.
“I know you would.”
Your words had the whisper of sadness. He was perfect. Too perfect for you. There must be a catch. Henry kissed the top of your head, squeezing you gently.
“Do you want to talk about what he said to you?” He murmured, dragging the washcloth down your arms.
You sighed, his touch easing you enough to talk about it. You tell him your encounter with Jake, from the very beginning. Tears burned in your eyes as you retold the story, but they didn’t fall as you repeated his hateful words.
“He said you were too good for me. And no one understands what you see in me.” You looked at him, blinking away your tears. You don’t tell him the harsher words Jake uttered to you. No reason for him to get angry again.
“And you believed him.” It wasn’t a question. He could tell by your expression that the drunk’s words resonated deep within you.
You shrugged. He kissed the back of your neck, breathing in your scent. He sighed, his nose pressed against your skin.
“I wish I had the words to change your mind, my love. I don’t like the way you view yourself. While you think I’m too good for you, I believe in the opposite. It is you who is too good for me.
Every morning when I wake up next to you, I always ask myself one thing. ‘What did a fool like me do to deserve such an amazing, beautiful woman?’. I still don’t have an answer.”
He kissed the side of your face, his lips next to your ear. You shivered, hanging onto every word as his hands rubbed your sides.
“But I try not to dwell on it. Because every moment I spend with you is a gift. And I much rather enjoy it and then spend our time together stressing.”
You nuzzled him as he squeezed you. You sniffled, his words calming your woeful heart. You pressed your lips to his cheek, whispering against his skin.
“Thank you, Henry. You always know how to fix things.”
“Anything for my precious girl. Anymore wine, sweetheart?” He offered you the almost empty glass. You shook your head, gesturing for him to finish it.
He winked at you and tossed it back. You watched as his tongue came out to lick the rest off his lips. Your mouth watered. His taste was intoxicating by itself, mixed with the sweet wine it had to be heavenly.
You decided not to wonder any longer, pressing your lips to his. He hummed, deepening the kiss as he stroked your tongue with his. You gasped into his mouth when you felt his half hard cock twitch against your spine.
He grunted, smirking as he nipped at your lower lip. He squeezed your hips, pulling away. His nose brushed against yours.
“Let’s get out and dry off, shall we? Get into some warm pajamas and then you can pick a movie to watch.”
You grinned as you started to brainstorm about which movie you were going to pick. You were off in your own world as he helped you out of the tub. He quickly dried himself. Then gently patted your body dry with a fresh towel.
You hummed a soft tune, a sign to Henry that you were starting to feel like yourself again. The material of the soft towel was making you relax. Your skin still smelled of vanilla, as did his.
He kissed the top of your head after he was done, both of you still nude until he wrapped the towel around you. You kept stealing glances at his naked form. He smirked to himself.
“Go wait for me on the bed. I’ll pick out something comfortable for you to wear.” He pecked your lips, patting your side to urge you towards the bedroom.
You bit your lip and nodded, leaving him in the bathroom. You made sure you weren’t dripping any water before sitting on the edge of the bed. You grabbed the remote, browsing for something to watch.
Henry entered, fully clothed now as he held a pair of clothes for you in one hand. In the other, a bottle of lotion.
“I’ll get you dressed, but first-lotion.” He knew your routine.
You smiled at him, watching him massage the lotion into your shoulders and arms. He lowered the towel to get your back as he sat behind you. Your eyes were closed, listening to his breathing as he lathered you up.
His large hands spread over your chest. He weighed your breasts in his palms as his thumbs lightly grazed your nipples. You moaned softly, leaning into him. His lips touched your ear, kissing his way down your neck and shoulder.
“Lay back sweet girl.”
You did so, gazing up at him as he stood at the end of the bed. He gathered some more lotion, rubbing into your feet. You groaned in delight when he massaged your aching soles. The sensation made you melt.
You felt his lips on the sensitive skin on your foot, gently kissing your heel, and each of your toes. He gave the other foot the same attention. His fingers creeped up your legs till he was squeezing your thighs.
Your legs spread instinctively, presenting your core to him. His eyes became half lidded as a pleased growl tumbled from his lips.
“So beautiful. Every inch of you, darling. There’s not a part of you I don’t love.” He tugged you up on the bed, lowering himself down on his stomach between your legs.
Your breath shook when you felt his mouth against the inside of your thighs. He peppered kisses along your skin as he lifted his hands. You gasped as his fingers bumped your clit.
“Please, Daddy.” You needed more, squirming in front of him as he teased you.
“Shh, baby girl. Daddys got you. You don’t have to beg. I’m gonna taste this perfect cunt either way.” His breath hit your center as he leaned closer, covering your slit with his mouth as soon as he ended his sentence.
His tongue was hot as it weaved between your lips, seeking out the bundle of nerves hiding. His wet appendage swirled the bead once, twice, before he puckered his lips around it. Henry suckled gently, his large hands holding your thighs apart.
You arched your back and moaned, the stimulation making your gut tighten. You reached down to hold onto his hair, tugging lightly when he gave your clit another suck. You couldn’t help it
He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, moaning against your flower as you held onto his curls. He gazed up at you, admiring the look of pleasure on your face. His tongue explored further down, dipping into your leaking hole
You bucked against his mouth, panting as your heart started to thud quickly. Incoherent groans left your mouth as you wiggled on the bed. He held you in place, snarling as he increased the pace of his tongue and lips. You tensed.
He pulled the orgasm from you with skill, your body rolling. Moans of wanton pleasure escaped you, falling apart from his lips. Your skin didn’t stop tingling until he finally pulled away.
You panted and opened your eyes when his mouth disappeared. His lips and chin were shiny, his smirk large as you got bashful at the sight of him.
“Mmm, you taste delicious. As always. Wish I could eat you all day.” He growled, one of his hands going back to your pussy. Your jaw dropped open as he traced your puffy slit.
You inhaled as he sunk a finger into you, your hole closed around it eagerly as you clenched down. He moaned under his breath, his gaze attached to the way your body swallowed his digit inside.
“So tight, baby girl. It feels so nice to just relax and let Daddy make you feel good, doesn’t it? I love seeing you squirm. I want you to cum again. Can you do that for Daddy, beautiful?”
You nodded quickly. He added a second finger, almost like he knew you needed it. You concentrated on the feeling of his fingertips rubbing against your convulsing walls. He found your special spot with no problem, growling when you let out a cry.
“There you go, good girl.” He grunted, shaking his fingers inside you. You squealed, and Henry moaned at the sound. “Cum for me, princess. Cum for daddy.”
He toyed with your g-spot, his lips finding your nub again. The sensations all blended together, and soon you lost yourself in another orgasm. You sobbed, gripping his head between your thighs and you arched off the bed.
He gulped down all that you gave, rutting his fingers into you to pull you through the tendrils of euphoria. Your body relaxed as your orgasm subsided. He finally pulled away with one last lingering lick of your cunt.
“Are you still with me, gorgeous?” He chuckled when you hummed and nodded lazily. “Did you decide on a movie to watch?”
You pouted silently as you glanced down at his groin. He was obviously aroused, yet wasn’t expecting you to return the favor. You wanted to take care of him. Your hand rested on his thigh. He chuckled, lifting your hand to kiss it.
“That’s nothing for you to worry about right now, darling. You need to rest. Now, have you decided on a movie?” He questioned you again.
“Lilo and Stitch.” You murmured as he stood up, your gaze following him.
“Lilo and Stitch it is then.” He grinned leaning over you to peck your lips. You could taste a hint of your own essence on his tongue.
Henry dressed you in the warm pajamas he picked out of you beforehand. You sighed in content, smiling up at him as he switched on the movie. He smiled back at you, scooting onto the bed and pulling you close. You snuggled him, your face in his chest.
“I love you, Darling. Don’t ever forget that. No matter how bad your thoughts might get, I want you to remember how much I love you. You mean everything to me.” His voice vibrated in his chest, and you lifted your head to fixate on him.
“I love you, Henry. You’re my everything. I don’t think I could live without you.” You whispered, your eyes locked.
“Good thing you won’t have to. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” He smiled, kissing you with a pleasant hum. You giggled.
“Now let’s watch ‘Lilo and Stitch’. Who’s the little blue guy again?”
******
A/N: Slowly chipping away at my inbox. Thank you for your patience as I slowly complete your requests. I apologize to anyone who has been waiting for months. Some things in my personal life have affected my mental health negatively, and I haven't been writing as much. Recently I've been easing my way back into writing, and I want to start being more active on here. I love you all, I feel like I don't tell you that enough. I’m sorry when I go MIA 😭❤️
Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 @rach2602
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Gaps Interlude
Warnings: stalking, implied violence, obsession, manipulation, written through yandere’s pov, delusion.
I’ve decided to do a short interlude for Gaps! All of the interludes will be told from one of the Batfam’s prespective, so enjoy!
Dick meets you in one of Gotham’s many coffee shops in the tourist section. The place is homey and warm, a personal favorite of his since it always seemed to lull Tim into a relaxed enough state that his little brother could be cajoled or bribed into sleeping when he got home, and the people are the same. Which is why you catch his eye so quickly.
You look exhausted. The sort of exhaustion that causes droopy eyes and a tired slump to the shoulders, that made your face seem dull and listless. You were pushing through it, though, staring at the laptop in front of you with a tired focus that reminds him of Tim on the days when his little brother simply had to finish a project. It’s barely even a brief thought, that flickers in the back of his mind.
(Later, Dick will wonder if that thought is what started all of this. Later, he will card his fingers through your hair as you sleep peacefully in your bed, unaware. Later, he will wait as Jason and Bruce bring home his newest sibling.)
But at the time, he doesn’t think much of the concern blooming in his chest. He approaches you, an easy smile on his lips, carefully keeping his body language open, so that he didn’t frighten you.
“Hey. You look a little out of it, everything alright?” He calls gently, and tired eyes glance up at him, lips pulling down into a frown. Now that he was closer, he could see your ragged appearance, more than just the lack of sleep.
Your clothes weren’t threadbare, but they were definitely old, the fabric of the joints stretched and worn. A grey hoodie, jeans, common wear for just about anyone in Gotham. If it wasn’t for the way you were clearly struggling, Dick doesn’t think he would’ve noticed you.
(Later, the thought feels impossible. Of course he’d notice you, you were his little sibling, even if neither of you knew it yet.)
“Oh, um.. working on a paper for my classes. I’m supposed to do an informative paper on how vigilantes have influenced measure of force laws.”
“Are you taking criminal justice? I had to write something similar when I was in college for my degree. Mind if I sit?”
“Nah, sure, go ahead. And no, it was a randomly assigned topic. I think she picked something so specific to see how good our research skills are.”
“Would you like some help?”
The offer surprises you. It surprises him, really. He doesn’t mean to say it, it sort of just slips out, which should alarm him because he hadn’t been this impulsive around new people since he got B’s training. It doesn’t.
You accept, even with your surprise.
And Dick helps you.
He keeps helping you, helping you when you needed to do a paper, when you needed to do just about anything.
(Later, he will continue to help you, even if you think you don’t need his help anymore. That’s okay. You were his little sibling, and he would help you whether you wanted him to or not.)
Over time, he notices things. He doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t, but there’s only so much you can ignore when you’ve been trained by Batman and been through all the things he has. And it’s not like you do a very good job hiding it.
The first time he visits your apartment, there are meds in your bedside drawer, which is cracked open. He makes a note to read the scripts, later, so at the very least he could help you in the ways you needed him to. He waits until you are out of the room, sliding the drawer open silently, and looking them over. Meds for anxiety, depression, ADHD. A planner full of notes and reminders, a checklist of all the tasks you had to do to take care of yourself.
A journal, hidden in the back.
He slides it into his jacket without a thought, putting all the other items back.
Every word from the journal just makes the overwhelming need to protect you grow. You wrote about your memories, your struggles. You wrote about how hard it was to stay alive and sane in a city that so often turned out criminals and murderers. You wrote about how much it hurt, sometimes, being alone. You wrote about how you couldn’t trust anyone, even though you wanted to.
And you write about Dick.
The first time he sees an entry about him, he feels something curl in his chest, pleased and content. You had called him caring, had called him nice. You had called him sweet. Had admitted to wanting to be able to trust him, to appreciating his calls and his texts and his reminders.
And even Dick can admit that it makes him worse.
He calls you more often, talking about anything and everything. He reminds you to eat, or drink water, and even though you don’t like it, you listen, often complaining you were an adult even as he could hear you filling a glass.
(Later, Dick would look back on it fondly. You’d acted exactly like an irritated little sibling.)
He doesn’t start to follow you until later, and he’s amazed how quickly it becomes routine.
He just.. can’t help it. You’re all alone, in an apartment in Gotham, struggling and on your own. Any instance where a threat gets too close to you, it’s quickly dealt with.
He introduces you to his family. Damian first, of course, because he wouldn’t have it any other way, and it goes amazingly. You’re involved, treating his little brother kindly but without pity, and it makes him so happy to see his little siblings getting along. You tell Damian about a kitten you had, a Maine Coone named Momo, talk to him about past and current pets. By the time the conversation is over, he can tell Damian must adore you as much as him and the thought makes his heart soar.
He introduces you to Bruce, next. His adoptive father takes one look at you and he can practically see the man filling out the adoption appears already. He doesn’t think he expected anything less.
Jason introduces himself by breaking into your apartment, making you food, and having a two hour long conversation with you about literature.
And every sibling that meets you falls in love with you, and every one of them adore you, and it just makes Dick want to take you home even more because they’ve never all agreed on anything but they all agree you should be at home with them.
So when Bruce sends Damian to steal your ID, he doesn’t protest. When Bruce changes your meds from an anti-anxiety med for sleeping to a mild sedative, he says nothing. They had a plan after all. And a part of that plan was to make it so that you wanted to go home with them.
When Jason and Bruce bring you home, slumped in Bruce’s arms as the man watched you with a gentle expression, he can’t help the rush of joy in his heart.
He had never really been a patient guy, anyways.
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oh my god I am frothing at the mouth PLEASE tell us about how Unohana is SO WEIRD ACTUALLY
(her reveal is my favorite thing in the whole series and I was obsessed with Bleach for a good long time)
I love Unohana. She's magnificently insane and deliciously fun to write so far.
My take on AEIWAM Unohana is that fundamentally, she just wants to be happy.
Oh, that doesn't sound too nuts. I hear you say.
Yeah, but I also headcanon that she has ADHD. We joke a lot about it on this site, but if you have the good fortune to have functioning dopamine factories, allow me to explain the worst part of it, for me.
There's no passive happiness.
Most people, as I understand it, if left to their own devices without undue stressors like capitalism or any particular stimulation, tend to be able to feel pretty okay most of the time. Which fascinates me because if I am left alone without undue stressors but no stimulation, my malfunctioning dopamine factories will shut down and I will rapidly develop a terrible black depression and paranoia that life is cruel and I will never experience happiness again and also my appetite vanishes and sleep cycle collapses and I will end up mentally and physically distraught, sometimes in less than an hour.
So I've always got to be doing something, or The Horrors get me.
So imagine Unohana, and with a brain that wants to die if she gets bored... living in fantasy magical ancient japan. Not much to do, out in the early days of the soul society, besides being attatcked by monsters, or participating in warfare, or starving to death. the first two, at least, get the blood pumping, but the first is difficult to come by regularly, so as a young woman, the most interesting thing that happens to her on the regular is Mortal Combat.
And how exciting it is! Adrenaline! Dopamine! And on the rare occasions she meets a fellow combat enthusiast, she also gets one of the best things about ADHD- Recognition Responsive Euphoria. You know that great feeling you get at Con or meeting another person with your special interest and you guys just VIBE and it feels like you've been best friends for life in less than five minutes? Yeah, apparently Non-ADHD people don't get that.
So naturally, she develops her skill in combat, not in pursuit of Honor or The Art or something nebulous like, that, but in the simple Pursuit of Happiness. She gets very good at it, and a lot of people die.
But she starts getting... too good at it. The fights don't last, there's nobody willing- let alone able, to meet her on her level and the previous joy she felt fades and fades until she is once again left in the darkness.
Then, a Miracle happens!
Some punk stabs her in the lung :)
Man, what an evening for her. Kills a hundred men with barely a stroke and there's no more joy in the world for her when suddenly some barely-legal scarecrow looking bastard with a raggedy sword he pulled out of someone else's corpse appears at the top of the pile of bodies and then goes Ape. Fucking. Shit. on her.
It's the most fun she's had in ages! He's strong and fast and his moves are inefficient but delightfully unpredictable and by the GODS the STAMINA! Alright, she might be 1,000 years his senior but in the soul society age really is just a number and she can't help but be charmed.
So she flirts back by nearly cutting his face off.
This DELIGHTS him!
And there it is again, that sudden feeling of intimacy between like-minded individuals, only these two ships aren't passing in the night, there' here to make Titanic 2: Electric Boogaloo. They make eye contact, and know-they're just like me.
True Love is a wonderful thing.
It's also a great opportunity for a surprise thrust and she only sort of manages to block it, and despite the feeling of blood pooling in her lung, she returns the blow full across his chest.
She staggers back, coughing.
He, miraculously, sits up, coughing. He won't die if he can crawl off somewhere to lick his wounds, but he can't continue the fight either.
She stands up, teeth gritted through the pain, and sheathes Minazuki. "What's your name?" She asks. "So I may find you to fight again."
"Don't have one." he wheezes. "But I'll never forget yours."
She's had men spit that as a threat to her before. It sounds very different as a declaration of love.
"Yachiru." she says, trying to not cough up blood. "Unohana Yachiru."
*
A Year later, there's a problem.
Soul Society has a bit of a problem with lungs. They can make entire fake bodies for shinigami to travel the living world, but individual organs, especially lungs... never seem to transplant well. Perhaps it's the fact they're already dead.
Her left lung is "healed" in the sense that it no longer has extraneous holes in it, but... Godsdammit, she still has all the power but none of the stamina. Barely 10 minutes into a fight and she's wheezing worse than The Old Man. 20 minutes and her hands are starting to shake and she's seeing spots in her eyes because she can't breathe well enough to keep the oxygen in her veins. Her fights usually last seconds so functionally she's still one of the most powerful people in the afterlife but it's a far cry from where she was before.
She can no longer be the 11th division's Kenpachi.
Hell, she can no longer be the woman she was before.
"Unless you figure out some new medical miracles, this is as healed as it's going to get." Explains the chief medical officer after yet another frustrating checkup.
"...If that's what it takes." She decides.
The next morning she re-enrolls in the Shinigami Academy, under the name Unohana Retsu. The sole change she makes to her appearence is to braid her hair down the front of her chest because people WILL ask about the scar, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's letting down that warrior with no name.
Either she needs to learn how to get back to his level, or find a new rival and learn to heal them to actually last the 20 minutes she has, or she'll die.
She studies.
To her vast surprise, bodies are actually fascinating. She'd previously seen that there were lots of interesting organs inside people but now learning what they are and how they work and the fact that the human body is already astonishingly death-resistant compared to most animals AND a carefully balanced meat sculpture minutes away from catastrophic failure at all times delights. She learns about the extreme ways humans can survive and the bizarrely mundane ways they can die, and she starts to form an idea- not an image, not a philosophy per se- but a working theory of how to keep someone alive and moving for as long and far as they will go, and what they need to stay upright.
This idea shines so brightly that it can keep that terrible darkness away.
The century practically flies by, and one night she stays up manually pumping the mechanism on a device used to keep the also-failing lungs of a young boy going after the power goes out. He's been blessed by A God that he's lived as long as he has, but even Gods can fuck up sometimes and she effectively has to breathe for him for twelve hours until the God gets its shit back together and he can breathe under his own power again.
"Hell of a fight you put in, keeping him alive." says one of her colleagues, collapsing beside her out in the 4th division medical garden where all the doctors go to smoke.
Retsu slowly exhales the smoke, fatigued but still coming down from the high of success. She cocks her head. Her body aches and her mind races and her heart thrills, just like- "I guess it was. " she realizes. "Interesting fight, going 12 hours in the ring with a dying child and winning because he walked away at the end." She laughs, and hands him the cigarette to share.
"You weirdo." he colleague laughs. He's far too young to remember when she was Yachiru. Most of them are these days, and it's a weird sort of peaceful anonymity and personal joke. "You weren't fighting the kid. If we were actually allowed to fight patients, I'd've stabbed the Kuchki hypochondriac decades ago." he grumbles, taking his own drag.
She snorts. "Who was I fighting then?"
"Death?" smoke billows out as he laughs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
She freezes.
Oh.
Oh.
That's why she likes this so much.
She's gone from fighting mere men to the one opponent she knows she can win battles with, but never the war, and who will defeat her personally someday.
"Are. Are you crying?" he asks, a little worried.
"I- yes." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "I just fell in love all over again."
"Ouch." he nods sympathetically, offering her the cigarette back. "Who with?"
"Death's own Angel, apparently." She giggles, feeling positively prepubescent with this crush.
And thus she goes on, for centuries, learning everything there is to know about bodies and minds and how the two keep each other going and the ways she can help. She gets very good at it, and a many more people do not die.
But there is a special, secret place in her heart for that nameless warrior that defeated her in battle, and made her stronger than every before.
*
Nearly 1,000 years after she stopped being Kenpachi, she is supervising the annual "see if you can kill the captain" tournament. Her colleague Kaname is there, a walking anxiety disorder with undoubtedly real but strangely hard to diagnose phantom pains, but he's still easily in her top 10 coworkers of all time because he made her a new medical record filing system so functional they were actually able to recataloge three millennia of medical records into a usable format in under a decade. He can come twitching into her office any time he likes, especially if it gets her that mass vaccination process for the Rukongai he's been biting The Old Man's heels for.
Then
as suddenly as he had appeared the first time,
He's back.
He's older now and larger, having matured into a spectacular bastard, but there's no mistaking that cutting edge on his reiatsu (which, oh, that has gotten much, much stronger since last time) or that scar running down his face as he turns from where he had just cleft the previous Kenpachi in twain, and stares out into the crowd in the shower of blood, challenging anyone to do something about it. Hell, even when Yamamoto appears to congratulate him on his promotion, Death's own angel's first reaction is to turn to fight the old man without hesitation.
He then promptly picks three different fights with four captains in under five minutes, tells Yamamoto to shove the job up his ass, imply he's had a WILD collection of vocations in the last millennium and furthermore, he has to get home to his daughter.
...Named Yachiru.
Hilariously, Unohana is only having the second weirdest time about this here, because Kaname and Kenpachi are, somehow, even weirder than she is.
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