He didn't know how many times he'd have to do this. You'd come home after a long mission, a bunch of bruises covering your whole body. He was tired.

Not tired of patching you up, no, he'd never be tired of seeing the small smile that formed on your face as he finished fixing you up. He was tired of you putting yourself in these situations and risking your life for other people. Yes, you were a pro hero, this was your duty. But why did you have to constantly worry him like this?

Yet, every time, he'd find himself patching you up at least thrice a week without question. No husband wants to see his wife get hurt like that, obviously, yet he couldn't help but be slightly irritated. He kept offering to join you on said missions, yet you'd never let him. 'Didn't wanna see him get hurt', as you'd put it. As touched as he felt, he couldn't help the scoff that left his lips every time you'd say such a thing.

Yet with all that irritation, here he was again, helping you take off your jacket as you had a few more injuries and wounds that needed to be patched up. He was particularly frustrated tonight, but not angry. He could never be angry with you, just .. irritated.

"God, what am I going to do with you?"

Gently leading you to the couch in the living room, he sat in front of you, inspecting your injuries with a sigh. He ripped open a bandaid, keeping it at the ready as he gently rubbed ointment and treatments onto your wounds a bit harsher than intended. Yet with each whimper of pain that left your lips, he only got more and more exasperated. With a heavy sigh, he spoke, his fingers pausing on your cheeks.

"You... You're so reckless. This has to stop."