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nevadancitizen · 1 month ago

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-> CH. 1: SOMEWHERE (FAR, FAR) EAST OF THE MOJAVE

synopsis: you wake up in some cabin, half-frozen to death. a man named arthur finds you and decides to have mercy on you, as do his associates.

word count: 3k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: if anyone wants me to start a taglist just lmk <3!! also there's a PROLOGUE before this, please read it before reading this :)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

It’s cold. Above everything else, it’s fucking cold.

You screw your eyes shut tighter, curling in on yourself. You’re vaguely aware that you’re on your side and in a fetal position.

There’s a light, faintly, somewhere behind you. You let out a hiss that tapers off into a groan and draw your arms over your head.

“Hey!” A voice shouts. It’s growly and abrasive-sounding. There’s the sound of a revolver’s hammer cocking. “Turn around. Face me.”

You prop your forearm on the floor and push yourself up with more effort than you think would be needed. You pant softly, and your breath mists in front of your mouth. You manage to hold yourself up with both hands on the floor and turn your head to look at the man.

He’s tall in a way that makes him look down his nose at you. His silhouette is stark against the door – there’s snow outside. You don’t remember it to be… snowing. It’s May in southern California. It doesn’t snow in May in southern California.

The man looks you over, his revolver still pointed at you. His hand is unwavering.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t know why. “Is this your house?”

“No,” the man says simply. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I’m…” You look down at your hands, the way they’re braced against the floor. “I don’t know. I think…”

Your arms shake, then collapse. Your jaw hits the floor with a dull thud, and your eyes screw shut on instinct.

“Shit,” the man drawls under his breath.

“W-wait! Wait,” you say quickly. “I’m not on anything. I – I’m stone-cold sober. Like Steve Austin.”

You force a laugh and manage to open your eyes to look at the man. He looks confused – maybe a little disgusted? It’s hard to tell.

“Like, the wrestler?” You say. “Stone Cold Steve Austin?”

The man lowers his revolver, just a little, so that it’s not pointed at your head, but still in your general direction. It’s obvious he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, in any capacity. Maybe he won’t shoot you if he thinks you’re insane? (Or maybe that would just give him more of an incentive to kill you.)

“Just – just ignore me,” you say. (Again, you don’t know why. You don’t want to be ignored – you’re very obviously in bad shape.) “I don’t know where I am. I remember being in California, just north of Los Angeles.”

The man scoffs and checks over his shoulder, like he’s checking he’s not being duped. He looks back at you. “California? Really?”

“Yes,” you say softly. You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself the best you can with the way that you’re laying. “South. Right near Mexico – Tijuana.”

The man tilts his head and takes a half-step closer. “You’re bleedin’.”

“I am?” You manage to move your arm and see dried brown blood on your jacket laced with redder, fresher blood. “I am.”

“I just…” You shift, curling in on yourself further. Now that he’s pointed it out, you do feel some type of dull pain in your abdomen. “I’ll be okay. Don’t call for a doctor, or an ambulance. Please don’t call an ambulance. I – I’ll get to a hospital on my own.”

The man shifts on his feet. Was it always this cold? It’s… it’s so fucking cold. And no matter how much you curl in on yourself, there’s no warmth.

The black returns.

There’s snippets of conversations you can pick up on over the sound of feet shuffling and the sound of wind blowing outside. One woman gives a few demands to others, while another woman announces that “Davey’s dead.”

You can feel yourself being lifted and laid on something that’s hard against your back. You groan and try to open your eyes and sit up, but can’t.

The voices grow quieter. There’s a man making some sort of speech – you can’t make out the words.

You know you’re wavering in and out. There’s the warmth of a man’s hand on your shoulder, and a murmuring voice, still fading in and out: “I commend you… your Creator… who formed you from the dust… angels, and all the saints…”

It takes all your strength to lift your hand and grab him – some part of him. You can barely open your eyes and can’t make out a lot. “Not… dead yet. Fucking pr…preacher.”

Black again. There’s a repetitive, stinging pain in your side.

Awake, again. Somehow. A woman, her face worn but still beautiful, hovers over you. Her wrinkles are stark in the lantern light.

“Hello?” You say, your voice a bit slurred.

The woman turns and calls another woman over – this one much younger than her. “Miss Jackson, get Dutch. Let him know Arthur’s friend is awake.”

Miss Jackson turns and walks off with a “Yes, Miss Grimshaw.”

“Arthur?” You interject. “Is that the man who found me?”

Miss Grimshaw turns back to you. “Yes, Arthur’s the one who found you. I don’t know why he didn’t shoot you.”

You wait for her to say something more. She doesn’t.

“Where am I?” You try. “I remember being in California, just outside of the Mojave. But the Mojave doesn’t get snow in May.”

“That’s because you’re not in the Mojave,” Miss Grimshaw says. “We’re in the Grizzlies.”

“Th…the Grizzlies?” You echo. “Like, Appalachia?”

“Somewhere in there, yes,” she says. “You been out a few days now. Reverend read you your last rites a handful of times.”

You try to sit up, but groan and lay back down. She pushes you down as well, a scowl on her face.

The door opens with a gust of cold wind. A man steps in, then quickly shuts the door behind him. He hurries over, rubbing his gloved hands together.

He looks you over, then drags a nearby chair over and sits. “What’s your name, friend?”

You give him your name.

“My name is Dutch,” Dutch says. “Dutch van der Linde. I think you know by now that you’ve caught us at an… inconvenient time. And you’ll forgive us for not trusting you right away.”

“No, I get that,” you say. “I just… I need a map or something. I need to get back home.”

Dutch beckons for Miss Grimshaw to bring over a map. He opens it and holds it out to you.

You sit up, slowly, making sure not to do anything too sudden. When you’re upright, you take the map from him and look it over. You don’t recognize anything on the map, but one point piques your interest – the date. The year reads 1891.

“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but…” You point to the year. “This map seems a little out of date.”

“It’s just eight years,” Miss Grimshaw says. “Most everything is the same.”

You glance up at her, then at Dutch, then at the people around the cabin. Your fingers twitch and crumple the map a bit.

This is a dream! I’m in a coma! Your mind shouts. I’m in a medically-induced coma because I was shot and holy hell – how the fuck did I go from 2024 to 1899?!

“Right, right,” you say instead. “Sorry. I’m just being nitpicky.”

“Where’re you from?” Dutch asks.

“California. Near the Mojave,” you say. “Out west.”

“And you would leave all that… virgin paradise…” Dutch laughs and gestures vaguely around him. “For this?”

“I don’t know how I got here,” you say. “I’ve been saying that since I woke up. I don’t…” You shake your head.

“Well, I’m sure we can get you back to your home,” Dutch says. “We’re persevering folk. Do you recognize anything – anything at all – on that map?”

You look down at the map again. It’s all unfamiliar. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, my friend,” Dutch says, reaching a hand out like it’s meant to soothe. “You’re a soul in need. I’m sure we can figure something out somehow. Can you at least tell me what your home is like?”

This is a coma, you remind yourself. I can just make something up. I’m not some person that couch-surfed for half my life. I can be whoever.

“I… it’s odd,” you say to buy yourself some time. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “There’s a few tribes that live in Zion Canyon – the Dead Horses and the Sorrows. I was a courier delivering goods to the Dead Horses. There were two men there that convinced me to stay.”

A Black man – broad, intimidating, with long, dark hair – perks up at the mention of tribes. His dark (almost black, honestly) eyes find yours, then he looks down at the floor again.

“None of it rings a bell,” Dutch says. “But, these men – what’re their names?”

It’s in that exact moment that you realize you just prattled off part of the storyline of Fallout: New Vegas. Then you realize that, if this really is 1899, no one here would know what you’re talking about.

“Joshua Graham and Daniel,” you say. “They’re white – they work with the natives and help them trade. Joshua’s acting as the Dead Horses’ war chief and Daniel is a healer that works with the Sorrows.”

Yes. You’re totally friends with Joshua Graham and Daniel and the Dead Horses and the Sorrows. And from the way Dutch nods solemnly, you think he believes you.

You hold out the map and he takes it back, folding it neatly.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” you say. “I’ve never even been this far east before.”

“Don’t worry,” Dutch says. “You can stay with us, for the time being. At least until we get to some… some town, or city. Let you rest your feet while you recover. We’re a gang of… violent criminals and degenerates, but we care. I can’t say the same for the rest of America.”

Your hand instinctively goes to your side, where you felt the stinging, repetitive pain earlier. “Right. My side doesn’t feel as bad as before. Thank you for that.”

You look around and slowly swing your feet over the side of the table. A lightning arc of pain shoots down your leg, causing you to gasp and tense. As with everything else, you force through it and stand.

“I need to get some air,” you say. Dutch just nods. You walk (shamble, really) to the door and open it, slipping outside.

The cold is even worse out here. There’s footpaths in the snow. You stick your hands under your arms and walk one. It leads to a man standing by a fire in front of a cabin, dressed in a winter poncho with a gun in his hands.

You hold your hands out towards the fire and rub your hands together. It doesn’t replace the warmth you had while you were inside, but it’s still something.

“What’s your name?” The man asks. He shifts the rifle in his hands, but doesn’t move to point it at you. (An improvement, if a small one.)

You give him your name. “What about you?”

“Javier,” Javier says. “Javier Escuella.”

“Where are you from?” You shift your focus to the fire. “Not trying to be rude. It’s just that there’s a few ‘Javier’s where I’m from.”

“Northern Mexico,” Javier says. “You?”

“I’m originally from the South, but I live in the Mojave. I moved to the Frontier to be closer to my sister,” you say. “So I guess we weren’t that far off from each other.”

You look up at the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow. It’s the man from way earlier – Arthur. You look back at the fire instead.

Arthur nods at Javier and spares a glance at you before entering the cabin. People are talking inside, and you catch a snippet of voices before Arthur closes the door again.

“It’s too cold to be May,” Javier says. You can tell he’s trying to be polite by making conversation. “I’m not designed for this snow.”

“I know, right?” You laugh under your breath. “Neither am I. I’d go back inside, but I don’t want to intrude. Any more than I already have, anyway.”

“It’s below freezing,” he says. “Everyone needs shelter. Come on.”

With that, Javier turns and walks into the cabin, holding the door open behind him for you. You thank him and follow him inside.

Inside is a group of men and the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke. You tense when they all turn to face you. Most of them are, in fact, smoking. You nod politely and tuck yourself into a corner, next to a man with a blond mustache.

A hefty man is sitting across from the blond man, and a much younger Black man is sitting on a table next to him. Javier is by the door, and you try your best to ignore Arthur’s huge presence beside you. You can see him throw a small log into the woodstove out of the corner of your eye.

The man sort-of across from you looks at you, then returns his gaze to the man sitting beside you. “I guess folks miss them… that fell.”

“Well, when I fall, I don’t want no fuss,” the man beside you says.

“When you fall…” The young man waves his hand, which is holding a lit cigarette. “There’ll be a party.”

“A party!” The hefty man echoes, laughing. “Hah, probably.”

You feel the beginnings of a smile start to cross your face. You don’t know these people, and while they aren’t exactly doing their best to welcome you, they aren’t exactly making you feel unwelcome, either.

The man beside you holds out a bottle to you. You hesitantly take it, even though you’re confused. “I don’t want this.”

He pays you no mind and stands, looking down at the man. “That funny, huh?”

“Sure,” the man says, the remnants of laughter still in his voice.

One man strikes another, and it’s loud, absolute chaos. On instinct, your eyes snap to the door. Unblocked. An exit if needed.

Arthur and the young man are holding the hit man back, and the blond man speaks. “Maybe I don’t feel like being laughed at by the likes of you two!”

It’s going to escalate. You can get to the door. Dutch was right – this is a gang of violent criminals and degenerates. One you want nothing to do with.

But Dutch bursts in with a gust of cold wind. As soon as he sees what’s going on, his face twists. The men dissipate from their tight proximity and distance themselves from each other.

“Stop it!” He snaps. “You fools punching each other when Colm O’Driscoll’s needin’ punching – hard! You wanna sit around, waiting for him to come find us?”

Arthur slips out of the door as Dutch continues. “All of you, we got work to do. Come on.”

The men turn and start to file out of the cabin. You can hear Arthur and Dutch talking outside. By the time you’re outside, most of the men are over by the horses or on one of them.

Dutch is talking quietly to Arthur while they’re both mounting up – you couldn’t hear them if you tried. He straightens up on his snow-white horse and shouts. “Mister Matthews, Mister Smith, Mister Pearson, would you please look after the place? There are O’Driscolls about!”

With that, he snaps the reins and his horse darts off. The rest of the men from the cabin, now all on horseback, quickly follow.

You resign yourself to following another footpath. This one leads to a partly-sheltered, partly-dilapidated garage-type-thing with something like a kitchen inside. There’s a deer hoist against the wall, but it’s empty.

Your eyes dart to some sort of cauldron-looking pot hanging over a fire that’s mostly coals. You walk over and hold your hands out to it, trying to get warm again.

“You’re new.”

Your head snaps up to see the broad Black man from earlier. He still has that impassive look on his face.

“Yes, sir, that’s right,” you say. You introduce yourself. “What’s your name?”

“Charles Smith.” Charles walks and stands beside you, mirroring you and putting his hands out towards the fire. “You were talking earlier about tribes.”

“Yeah,” you say. “What about them?”

“I’ve never heard of the ones you were talking about,” he says. His voice is deep and smooth and calm. (You try your best not to latch onto that sense of calmness. You now know how quickly things can turn.)

“The Sorrows and the Dead Horses?” You rub your nose as you try to think of an excuse. “I wouldn’t expect you to. They live in Zion Canyon – in the Mojave. They’re fairly isolated, but they’re good people.”

Charles hums and his eyes return to the fire. You try to think of something to keep the conversation going.

“Who’s Colm O’Driscoll?” You ask. “I’ve heard his name a handful of times.”

“A rival gang leader,” he says. “Runs the O’Driscolls.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You scratch your cheek. “That makes sense.”

A silence settles over the two of you again. Charles must be comfortable with it. Unfortunately, you’re not.

“Is there anything people need done?” You ask, glancing at him. “I don’t like being idle for too long.”

He looks over at the empty deer hoist. “We need food.”

“I’m no good at hunting.” You look at the fire and rub your hands together again. “Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot,” Charles says. His eyes flick to you. “You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

You bite back another apology and force a laugh. Your breath mists in front of your face. “Force of habit.”

Charles hums and his focus returns to the smoldering coals that make up the fire. A nagging thought in the back of your head tells you that you made him mad (even though he’s given literally no indication you’ve done so).

You follow his lead and look at the fire. There’s nothing else to do in this kind of cold, anyway.

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violetrainbow412-blog · 29 days ago

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Day 7: hoodie weather

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Autumn was, without a doubt, a clear prelude to the approaching winter. It was raining outside, and your boyfriend was sleeping on your apartment couch, forced to take a break by his unit chief after he fainted at the office from exhaustion. He had, of course, refused, but after Aaron warned him that he could suspend him for longer, Spencer had no choice but to comply.

When he called to tell you, you suggested that he spend the day at your place. You often scolded him for neglecting his health, and you tried hard to help him develop healthier habits. But it seemed Spencer often forgot, and this situation was clear proof of that.

Every so often, you touched his forehead to check that he didn’t have a fever, and due to the cold, you had covered him with one of your quilt to prevent him from catching a cold. He looked so peaceful and comfortable that you felt touched, even if the reasons for his rest weren’t to your liking.

Your laptop lay abandoned on the coffee table, and you thought it was a good time to take care of some pending tasks, although honestly, the weather just made you want to sleep all afternoon. While waiting for the machine to turn on, you decided to head to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee, returning quickly and settling comfortably in the armchair in your living room, ready to work.

You lost track of time after the first hour and probably your third cup of coffee when, suddenly, you saw your boyfriend stir in his spot. You thought he was just readjusting to sleep better, but that idea vanished when he sat up on the couch and looked at you with sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” you murmured with a smile, taking off your earbuds.

“Hi.”

“How was your beauty sleep?” you joked, and behind his hand rubbing his eye, you saw a smile.

“I feel more tired than when I lay down.”

“That happens when you have so much accumulated exhaustion,” you replied disapprovingly.

You put your laptop aside and decided, now that there was space, to sit next to Reid. Gently and kindly, you extended your hand to fix some of his messy hair. You looked at his eyes, still closed, like when you want to stop sleeping, but your body refuses, as if trying to prolong the satisfaction of resting.

“Thanks for the quilt,” he murmured, snuggling more into it and leaning against your body.

Everything about him radiated warmth, which was perfect for you, suffering from the cold that seeped in from the outside. His head nestled into your neck, and his arms wrapped around your waist, practically curling up next to you. You felt him plant a couple of soft kisses on your neck and jaw, making your heart race and drawing a sigh from you.

“Do you want me to make you something? You haven’t eaten anything today,” you observed in a soft voice, feeling him shake his head against your skin.

“I just want to be with you,” he sighed. You felt him inhale softly near you, and then he continued, “You smell like coffee. Have you been drinking coffee?”

“Mhm.”

“I want a cup.”

“No. You’ll have it once you’ve eaten something.”

“I can drink it now.”

“Doctor Reid, would you care to remind me what the consequences of drinking coffee on an empty stomach are?”

“It increases the production of stomach acid, which can damage the stomach lining and cause heartburn, indigestion, nausea, and reflux. This excess acid can also lead to irritable bowel syndrome, temporarily raise blood pressure, and in people sensitive or intolerant to caffeine, it can cause anxiety or nervousness.”

“Thank you,” you murmured calmly, as he recited it almost like a prayer. “Once you’ve eaten something, I’ll make you a cup.”

You both fell silent for a moment, enjoying the sound of the rain hitting the windows outside and the calm of your embrace. Spencer didn’t know if you realized just how much you meant to him and the peace he felt whenever he was in a position like this with you. Nothing compared to the sensation of your skin, breathing in your scent, feeling you stroke his hair… simply knowing he was loved and cared for by you made him feel like there was no more perfect place in the world.

After a few minutes, you thought he had fallen back asleep, but that idea disappeared when you heard him speak again.

“I feel a bit guilty for not going to work. I wish I knew how the case was going, but Aaron warned me I couldn’t even call them.”

“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard, love,” you murmured softly into his ear, which was at the level of your mouth. “Sometimes it’s necessary to rest. And I hope this serves as a warning, your own body is demanding that you stop for a moment. I wouldn’t like them to call me from the hospital one of these days because something happened to you. Do you understand?”

Although your voice sounded like a scolding, it was really masked concern. You didn’t know how to help him, and Spencer left out the part where he couldn’t rest due to recurring nightmares.

But now he didn’t want to talk about that. Everyone asked him about it and looked at him as if he were some sort of misfortunate soul… he didn’t want that pity, least of all from you.

“It’s cold,” he noted, wanting to change the subject.

“Yes, it’s cold. But it’s nice weather, isn’t it?”

“I like it. It’s peaceful, and it gives me an excuse to cuddle you.”

He felt your chest vibrate with laughter, and then, finally, he came out of his hiding spot to look at you. His furrowed brow had softened into a silly smile, one that reflected his complete love for you.

“Reid, you can always cuddle me, you don’t need an excuse for that.”

“But I like having one. That way, I make sure you’re warm.”

With your own smile, you stretched slightly to join your lips in a kiss you intended to be short, a plan your boyfriend denied. He maneuvered to lay you down on the couch and continued kissing you, as if it were a task of utmost importance. Though you didn’t know where this sudden enthusiasm came from, it didn’t occur to you to complain.

“Did you know...” your boyfriend began to whisper, “... that kisses can have a relaxing effect? The body releases oxytocin, dopamine, and endorphins” with each word, he punctuated it with a kiss. “Plus, cortisol levels… decrease.”

“So, you’re kissing me in the name of science?”

“For my health,” he corrected, utterly amused.

He had positioned himself between your legs, and you instinctively wrapped them around his hips, eager to keep the distance between you as minimal as possible.

“Let’s go get you something to eat,” you suggested in a whisper, trying to persuade him with a short kiss “Then you can continue with your medicinal therapy.”

Spencer didn’t need to hear it twice, and as you had promised, after a hearty meal, you both dove back into another session of caresses. All for weather and health-related reasons… of course.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2024 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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whenikissedthegiyuu · 25 days ago

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Kinktober 2024

Raw Sex w/ Tsugikuni Yoriichi

word count 951

18+ mdni. fem!reader, smut, no protection, sex (p in v), using spit as lubrication, squirting, set in modern times, written in 2nd pov

kinktober 2024 mlist can also read on ao3

You looked up into Yoriichi’s eyes as he caged you in, leaning on his forearms to cover your face with kisses. Soft laughter escaped you, your hands cupping his jaw.

He smiled at your happiness. He wanted nothing more than to be the reason for it for the rest of your lives.

He laid between your parted thighs, both of you completely naked as he took it upon himself to kiss every inch of your skin. He reached your lips again and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before sitting up to reach toward the bedside table. His long hair was loose, tickling your chest as he leaned over you.

You glanced at the open drawer where the condoms were stored. You hesitated for less than a second before reaching for his hand and plucking the packet from his fingers. “I was thinking…”

He smirked in acknowledgment, hiding the fact that he throbbed against your thigh at what you were implying when you took the condom.

“Since I started birth control, I was thinking if you wanted to skip…” Your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze as you held the foil up between the two of you. “It’s been three weeks already. Doctor said I should be good after a week.”

You probably failed to hide how much you wanted to feel his cock inside you without any barriers, but Yoriichi didn’t seem to mind because he nearly ripped the condom from your grip and threw it back onto the nightstand. You pulled him down to kiss you again.

His lips moved against yours as he cupped your cheek, a mess of tongues and teeth as you both grew desperate to feel the other. Your hands reached between the two of you to guide him to your entrance, but he forced himself away from your lips and sat between your legs. He grabbed your thighs and pushed them back until they touched your chest, eyes focused on your cunt.

He opened his mouth and his tongue lolled out to let a drop of spit fall between you. He smeared it over your folds and used the lubrication to rub your clit. He grabbed your hands and placed them on the back of your thighs so you would hold yourself open for him.

He held the base of his dick with his other hand and pushed into you. Watching him with half lidded eyes, you let out a soft moan as you felt every single vein as he slid inside you. He choked out a moan, his hands returning to the underside of your thighs once he bottomed out. He squeezed gently when you clenched around him.

“Please, don’t do that.” He laughed, the sound coming out more breathy than he expected. You just felt so perfect, so hot and wet. “I’m trying to last more than a minute, love.”

You couldn’t help the way you clenched again, knowing he was just as affected as you. His head fell forward as he looked down between your joined bodies.

“Not doing it on purpose. Just feels so good.” You whispered, your walls tightening around him a third time when he pulled out almost completely and thrusted forward, burying himself completely in you.

He finally started thrusting into you, although at a slow pace, his eyebrows furrowing together in concentration. He looked up to meet your eyes, finding you already staring at him. He smiled at your sudden shyness as you turned your head to the side.

He fell forward, holding himself above you with one arm. His other hand went to grab your waist, his fingers digging into your skin.

“I’m balls deep inside you and you get embarrassed of being caught staring at me?” He murmured near your ear. He adored the way his voice made your legs twitch and your cunt tighten. He knew he could never go back to using a condom with you.

His hand moved up your side, his thumb brushing the curve of your breast. You met his maroon gaze again, but your eyes rolled back a moment later when he started thrusting harder, faster into you. His hips slammed against your thighs, his eyes lowering again to watch his dick disappearing inside you.

Yoriichi sat up again, pressing a hand to your stomach as he pounded into you. You gasped immediately as the tip of his cock abused the spongy spot inside you, mixed in with the press of his palm, it suddenly felt like too much and not enough. You felt light headed, eyes fluttering shut as you debated pushing him away or pulling him closer.

Your legs trembled as you felt yourself gushing around him. His thrusts didn’t falter for a moment, he watched with parted lips as your head fell back against the windows and your release squirted out of your pussy, coating his abdomen, your thighs, the bed. He pulled out just in time, fingers wrapping around his dick and stroking twice before his own cum spurted out onto your stomach.

He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight. He pressed his lips to your jaw, then he trailed kisses over your cheek. You hummed almost sleepily before he finally reached your lips, his tongue immediately darting out to lick your lip in search of yours. His cock stirred against your thigh, still half hard.

“You are insatiable.” You whined against his lips, parting them to let him lick into your mouth.

He pulled away only to catch his breath, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth before letting it go. “It’s your fault for letting me fuck you raw.”

You gladly accepted the consequences.

#demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #yoriichi tsugikuni #demon slayer yoriichi #yoriichi x reader #kinktober 2024 #kny yoriichi #yoriichi x you #kimetsu no yaiba yoriichi

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queenshelby · 10 months ago

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Business As Usual (Part Six)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Arranged Marriage, Angst, Cheating

NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

During the drive, you distracted yourself from the pain by discussing what happened and why. You wanted to know whether your family was working against you and Shelby Company Limited and, much to your surprise, your husband admitted that certain members of your family strayed from the original agreement between your respective families. They had put you and Tommy's family into grave danger and Tommy told you that he would not stand for it.

Then, after a short drive, you arrived at the hospital. The building was a maze of corridors and staircases, filled with medical staff bustling about their duties. Despite the circumstances, you found solace in the familiar smell of disinfectant that hung heavy in the air.

The doctor attending to you was a woman named Dr. Miller. She was kind and compassionate, offering small smiles of encouragement throughout the procedure. You winced as she removed the bullet from your arm, but her soothing voice kept you grounded, helping you endure the excruciating pain with Tommy by your side.

His presence brought comfort, yet it heightened the sense of betrayal that lingered between you, and you were unsure by this point as to whom you could trust.

He was there, yet he seemed miles away; distant, detached. You noticed that in his posture, his voice, his mannerisms—even his scent, masked by the sterile hospital environment.

"Considering the circumstances and the fact that you are currently with child, I recommend that you stay here for the night, Mrs Shelby," Dr. Miller suggested gently but you hesitated and shook your head.

"No, please, I want to go home," you insisted, your voice quivering with the weight of the events that had taken place. With everything that had transpired, you did not feel safe at a public place like this, but Tommy reassured you that he would arrange for appropriate security, even if you were to decide to stay at the hospital.

"You should stay here Love. You need to rest, and you most certainly need proper medical care, eh," he insisted, running a tender finger up and down your arm, a light touch that sent chills down your spine. His sudden tenderness surprised you as, ever since you were forced to marry one another, he had been rather cold towards you, and yet, you shook your head and pulled your arm away from him.

"As I said Thomas, I want to go home," you repeated, this time more sternly and with a glare thrown in his direction. "You either drive me back to Arrow House or I will make alternate arrangements," you said while watching as the muscles in Tommy's jaw visibly tensed and clenched, a sure sign that he was annoyed by your obstinacy.

"Fine," he grumbled reluctantly, casting a brief glance at the nurse stationed near the entrance to your room. "I'll take you home. But you must promise me to rest, eh?" Tommy demanded and you hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"Mr Shelby, with respect, I strongly advise that your wife stays overnight for observation," Dr. Miller reiterated her suggestion, a firm conviction echoing in her voice but Tommy explained to her that you were determined to leave.

"I will arrange for her to be monitored at home by one of your nurses," he told her before producing a bundle of cash from his pocket and placing it discreetly on the counter.

Dr. Miller casted a questioning glance at Tommy and then at her nurse, silently communicating the unspoken agreement.

"Very well, Mr Shelby," she conceded reluctantly while accepting the payment without batting an eyelid. "I will send Nurse Dawson over to administer medication and monitor your wife's condition. Please remember that she needs complete rest and should avoid stress at all costs."

"Thank you, Doctor," Tommy responded curtly before guiding you out of the ward.

You glanced back at the enigmatic doctor, who gave you a warm smile and a nod, wishing you a speedy recovery. Once you were seated in the car, Tommy fastened your seatbelt carefully, his expression softening as he studied your face. "Are you alright, Love?" he asked softly, concern evident in his voice.

You swallowed thickly, fighting back the tears welling up in your eyes. "I am fine," you croaked, raising a weak hand to wipe away the stinging wetness accumulating near your right eye.

You'd always been tough, steeling yourself against whatever life threw at you, but the relentless strain of recent months had worn you thin.

A gentle nod was your only response, the understanding in Thomas's eyes mirroring the pain in yours. It was difficult to believe that just hours earlier, you'd been embroiled in a dangerous standoff, armed with pistols and ready to strike down your enemies. Now, as you sat quietly in the passenger seat, your thoughts drifted back to the turbulent three months that had transformed your life irrevocably.

The car accelerated smoothly through the foggy streets of Birmingham, weaving effortlessly through patches of damp road. You stole a sideways glance at Tommy, only to find him gazing out onto the rain-slicked pavement, lost in his musings.

The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with unsaid words and pent-up emotions. A single tear trickled down your cheek, mingling with the sweat on your skin. You reached up and wiped it away with the back of your hand, hoping desperately that Tommy wouldn't notice your distress.

You wanted to seem strong and unbreakable, uncaring about what he had done to you, but holding up this kind of facade had become increasingly difficult.

Every time you blinked, you could see his betrayal staring back at you like a slap in the face. He slept with the enemy, cheating on you and you wished for things to go back to the way they used to be before you were thrown into this life. When the first few weeks had passed after your marriage, you thought that maybe things would change some day, but you had been foolish to think that someone like Tommy Shelby could ever change.

Just like you, he pretended to be invincible. The veneer that protected him from real feelings seemed cracked now though, and underneath lay raw nerves. His eyes flashed, and he gripped the steering wheel harder. The Bentley purred along the roads of Birmingham, cutting through the misty weather like a hot knife through butter. In the dim light, his profile was illuminated by the dashboard lights, showing a man wrestling with inner demons.

Then, suddenly, he pulled over at quiet intersection, near an abandoned estate before parking the Bentley under a tree.

You were startled, and your eyes widened as the engine cut off. You could feel the awkward silence filling the air between you. The wind whistled loudly, causing the trees to sway.

"We need to talk," Tommy said, his voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. He opened the car door and helped you step out. He guided you towards an old wooden bench sitting under the shelter of a sturdy oak tree.

The bench creaked under your weight as you sat down gingerly, wincing from the residual pain in your arm.

You glanced sideways at Tommy, noticing his troubled expression.

"What exactly did you mean by 'we need to talk'?" you asked cautiously, sensing the seriousness of the conversation to come. "And why here?" you wondered, and Tommy's shoulders stiffened visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he gathered his thoughts.

"Because I feel as though someone is listening to us, in my own fucking house," Tommy growled before offering you a cigarette, an offer which you declined. "Love, I know I have made mistakes..." he then trailed off, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt.

"You have. You betrayed me and you cheated on me," you interrupted bluntly, refusing to sugarcoat the truth.

Your tone was accusatory, carrying the weight of a betrayed spouse. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but you refused to shy away from confronting the issue head-on.

Tommy flinched noticeably, his grip tightening on the armrest. He looked down, avoiding direct eye contact. "I know," he murmured quietly, shame coloring his cheeks. "I was...confused. Things got complicated and I..." he began to say before inhaling sharply. "You were forced to marry me, and I tried to honor our arrangement after the night we shared, but in order to protect you from your own fucking family, I couldn't. I had to ensure that you were not involved in any of my business deals knowing that you were pregnant with my child, and you hated me for that. So, tell me Y/N, how could you have possibly expected us to be anything other than fucking acquaintances, eh? You don't love me. You were forced to be with me and I was not going to live to honor my vows with a woman who shows no fucking interest in me and no fucking respect either," Tommy explained, his voice heavy with resentment, though his words carried a certain amount of justified bitterness. He had done everything he could to protect you from your own family's devious schemes. They were planning to sacrifice you for personal gain and screwing over the gang in which you were now involved. What more could you have possibly expected from him?

"As soon as I figured out your uncle's plan, I realized that you were a liability to me, and that fact alone made me distance myself from you, not out of hatred, but because I wanted to protect our child," Tommy continued, his voice softer now.

"So why did you sleep with Laura Manning then? What did she have to do with protecting our child?" you countered, still unconvinced that his intentions were pure. There was no denying that Tommy was a complex individual, capable of displaying immense kindness and compassion while simultaneously engaging in brutal acts of violence. You couldn't quite wrap your head around his motives, and it frustrated you to no end.

Tommy hesitated, his brow furrowed in concentration. "For the same reason I sleep with whores Y/N," he confessed, his voice strained and laden with regret. "To get some fucking release, after a long day of handling business" he added, before taking a deep breath and, immediately, you slapped him across the face.

The sound of flesh connecting with flesh echoed loudly in the chilly night air. He flinched, surprised by your sudden reaction but not entirely unprepared. The sting of your palm burned against yours, the intensity of your anger shocking even you but, what you did next, came more of a surprise to him than anything before.

"You are being selfish Thomas, seeking release outside your marriage after all you did to me," you told him while reaching for his belt buckle, you undid it swiftly, and then slid his zipper down, before he could utter a word.

"Fuck!" he gasped, his eyes wide in shock as you slid your hand beneath his briefs.

You leaned forward, wrapping your hands around his shaft and squeezing firmly. His cock throbbed in your grasp, swelling larger under your skilled fingers.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he stammered, struggling to form coherent sentences while being confused by your actions while trying to stop you.

"Quiet!" you snapped, squeezing him tighter. "I am your wife and I need you to remember exactly that," you spoke swiftly while his eyes went wide as saucers, mouth hanging open, but he bit down hard on his lip to suppress an audible groan when you stroked him expertly. Each stroke of your fingers teased his erection, causing it to grow thicker and longer. You knew how to handle a man, how to manipulate him, and how to please him in ways he hadn't experienced before.

"No more whores!" you shouted, grabbing Tommy's erection even tighter. "No more fucking other women!" you snarled, pumping his cock faster. "I'm it, Tommy! Only me!" you told him before adjusting your position in order to take off your undergarments.

"I am your fucking wife and I expect you to treat and respect me as such," you said angrily before reaching beneath your skirt and slipping your panties off.

You straddled Tommy, your knees pressing against his thighs and your moist pussy brushing against the head of his cock.

"Y/N," he protested feebly, his voice hoarse and trembling and, before he could say anything else, you pressed your index finger onto his lips.

"Ssh," you cooed seductively, grinding your hips against his groin, but Tommy would not relent.

"Please, Y/N," he pleaded weakly, trying to push you away. "You're too delicate to handle me right now. You are injured and traumatized," he reminded you calmly, but you shook your head.

"That's just it, Tommy," you purred, gripping his erection tightly before guiding it to your entrance. "I'm not delicate. Not anymore," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the rustling leaves overhead.

"I know what you want, Tommy. What you need," you told him, your voice husky with desire. You felt him squirm beneath you, his cock growing impossibly harder against your sensitive flesh.

"And I'm going to give it to you at my discretion," you moaned, grinding your pussy against his swollen member. "Understand?" you asked while Tommy whimpered softly, arching his neck to lick your lips hungrily, but you pulled away, leaving him wanting more.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with lust and pleading. "Please..." he begged but you shook your head, teasing him with your eyes.

"You've got to prove yourself to me, Tommy," you smirked wickedly, rubbing your pelvis against his throbbing erection. "Show me that you're worth my time, effort, and affection."

He frowned, his brows knitting together in frustration. "How?" he asked, desperate for a way to appease you.

"Well," you purred, cupping his cheek. "First of all, you will give me authority to handle the liquor export division. I want you to give me full control over it and not interfere unless absolutely necessary."

Tommy stared at you in disbelief before heaving a sigh. "I'll consider it," he agreed reluctantly, following which he asked what else it was that you wanted.

The air between you crackled with tension, the scent of sex and desperation mingling to create an intoxicating blend. You knew that you had him hooked, and now it was time to reel him in.

"Secondly," you continued, leaning closer to his ear. "If, what you told me is true, I want you to help me get rid of my uncle and his acquaintances. They pose a threat to our family, and I won't tolerate it. Understand?" you asked, seeing that it was them who put you into harm's way and, without giving it a second thought, Tommy nodded. "Agreed," he muttered gruffly, his voice barely audible.

He was caught in your web, ensnared by your demands and desires and you licked your lips, savoring the taste of power and dominance before making your final demand.

"Finally, I want you to stop sleeping around," you stated bluntly. "From now on, you're mine and only mine. Agreed?" you asked and Tommy pursed his lips, contemplating your request.

After a few moments of silent deliberation, he nodded slowly. "Agreed," he said softly, his voice cracking slightly. "No more whores," he muttered, and you smiled triumphantly, feeling empowered by your newfound control over him.

"Good boy," you cooed, planting a fleeting kiss on his lips before, finally, lowering yourself on to his hardness.

"Oh, God, yes," he moaned, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "I'm...I'm yours, Love," he gasped, his voice hoarse and broken as he felt your flesh surrounding his hardness.

You chuckled softly, feeling satisfied with your victory. "Yes, you are," you purred before you began to ride him.

You took his cock inside you with agonizing slowness, relishing the sensation of being filled by him. You let out a soft cry of pleasure as your walls tightened around his thickness.

"You feel so fucking good," Tommy moaned, thrusting his hips upward to meet each of your downward strokes. You reveled in the sensation of being impaled by him, his erection pulsating within you.

Each movement drove you wild, your juices flowing freely, lubricating your passage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself as you bounced on top of him.

"You see, you could have had this all along, Thomas" you panted, your voice ragged and hoarse.

Tommy's eyes narrowed, his breathing becoming labored. "I promise to make it up to you Love," he murmured, his voice shaking slightly.

"We shall see," you replied coolly, your gaze locked on his.

With each stroke, you grew more confident, knowing that you held the reins.

"I am close," Tommy muttered, his voice strained and breathless.

You smirked, enjoying the power you wielded over him as, suddenly, you pulled away and slid off his lap.

"Well," you drawled, standing up and dusting off your skirt nonchalantly and picking up your panties from the dirty floor. "Maybe I will let you have your release later, if you behave yourself."

Your words hit him like a punch in the gut, and you saw the hunger in his eyes intensify tenfold.

Tommy simply sighed, his gaze fixated on your every move. You knew that you had him where you wanted him. His cock twitched impatiently, yearning for release, but you decided to tease him further.

"Get up," you command, and he does so immediately, his movements swift and obedient. "When we get back to Arrow House, you will call Boston and introduce me as the new export liaison. Then, after that, we will go to OUR bedroom and you will fuck me like a good husband fucks his wife. Understood?" you asked him, your voice low and seductive.

"Yes, Love," he breathed, his heart thumping wildly in his chest and you arched an eyebrow, your lips quirking upwards mischievously. "Do you?" you challenged, stepping closer to him.

The scent of your perfume wafted towards him, intoxicating and alluring.

"Let's go home, Tommy," you murmured, reaching out to trace your fingertips down his arm and he shivered, goosebumps erupting on his skin.

He had never seen you like this - commanding, dominant, and utterly fearless. You had somehow managed to turn your situation around, seizing control and positioning yourself as the puppet master. And he was your willing marionette, dancing to your tune.

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 2 years ago

Text

Protector pt. 2

Paring: Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective Ghost, smut 18+ mdni (nothing hardcore. I’m not good at writing it)

Words: 16.5k

Synopsis: Ghost will always protect you...

Part 1

A/N: there are literally no words for me to describe how appreciative and happy it makes me that so many of you guys liked the first part. I wanted to reply to all of you but it would’ve been too much so I hope that this second part will be enough as thanks ❤️ this is for my 1000 followers.

Thank you guys for being so patient with how long this took. I’m so sorry for the wait.

A sob followed by fast breathing made Ghost's eyes snap open immediately.

His heart pounded against his chest as he searched frantically around the room for you. Memories, flashes of your beaten body in front of him begging for mercy, crying and screaming out for somebody to help you, for Ghost to help you and he couldn’t.

Ghost failed you. He let you get hurt again, he shouldn’t have fallen asleep even though it had felt so peaceful with you sleeping beside him. He should’ve been awake to make sure that you were okay, to make sure that the doctor and nurses had been on time to give you more medicine so you didn't have to relive those awful memories again.

It made him panic. He had to help you, he had to make sure you were safe.

He couldn’t think straight, the medicine had worn off and the pain clouded his mind while the sleep was wearing off, and he forgot where you were.

The medicine had worn off for both of you, but you didn’t know that it was safe. You were confused and the pain didn’t help especially when you couldn’t move, it only made panic set in, which made you feel even worse.

“Ghost…” You sobbed and he gripped the edge of his bed so tight the scabs on his knuckles reopened.

“I’m here.” He pushed off the bed to try to get to you and nearly fell when stepped down with his injured leg. He clenched his jaw so tight and forced himself to stand up by using the bed for support. “You’re okay.”

The machines tugged him back and he nearly yelled with anger before he ripped everything off him, the EKG screaming out a beep from being disconnected. He didn’t pay attention to it, his eyes locked onto you as he tried to move forward but collapsed against the wall in pain. Hot pain flushed from his leg and when he looked down he could see red staining the bandages that covered the bullet wound.

“I’m here-” He went dizzy from the sounds and the pain, unable to keep himself upright as he fought so hard to just get to your bed.

You were crying, there were tears running down your face as you writhed in pain and near hyperventilating. He wanted nothing more than to grab you and pull you into him, to wrap his arms around you and hope that it would be enough to make you feel safe again.

How could he let this happen? Was he really that cold hearted, that cruel to make you suffer like this? You didn’t deserve this, you were too good for pain like this.

Ghost didn’t even notice the rushing nurses and doctor until he felt someone grab his arm tightly, causing him to jump and look down to see a nurse looking panicked.

“Why are you out of bed?” She asked incredulously and he ripped his arm out of her hold, glaring at her.

“Help her.” He demanded harshly and she took a few steps back. “She’s in pain, do something!”

“They’re helping her now, you need to get back in bed.”

Ghost groaned, his fists tightened before he looked back at you to see the doctor and the other nurses quickly trying to administer medicine again.

His vision got worse and he stumbled forward. He felt the nurse grab him again and tried to pull him back to his bed but he fought against her, not wanting to go back until he knew for sure that you were going to be okay and that this wasn’t serious, that you had just woken up out of a panic and that you weren’t about to code.

The nurse barked something in his ear but he wasn’t paying attention. He watched your face contort into pain, your chest heave from heavy breaths and your tears roll down your cheeks.

He hated it. He hated to see you like this.

“Sedate him and I’ll fix his stitches.” He managed to hear the doctor order and before he had any time to react, he felt the nurse stick something into his arm.

It must’ve been a powerful sedative or he had exhausted himself out as his vision went dark almost immediately, the last thing he remembered was being put back onto his bed.

Ghost jolted awake a few hours later. He had been lucky that his induced sleep was dreamless though he was still exhausted.

He blinked the drowsiness from his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. The bed was a lot less comfortable now that the pain meds were wearing off again and he struggled to keep himself still as the hard mattress dug into his sore thigh. It made him huff and he rubbed his eyes with irritation as he tried his best to ignore it before he glanced towards you.

His eyes widened ever so slightly when they connected with your drowsy open ones. They were hazy, a sign that the pain meds given to you were working and that they had calmed you down from before.

You had been staring at him. There was a soft look on your face, one that couldn’t be achieved by the medicine, when he had turned to look at you. A look that should’ve been reserved for watching someone less rugged and violent than him especially after what he had done to get you here.

It locked him into his place on the bed. He couldn’t move as your eyes raked lazily over his face, taking in every detail that had once been a mystery to you.

You were looking at him as if there was something good to see. You were drinking up the scars, new and old, that peppered his skin like he was a beautiful piece of art made of soft paint rather than blood and gunpowder.

Why were you looking at him like that? It had to be the drugs, your mind was taken over by substances that made your thinking unreliable. You wouldn’t normally give him such a softness if it weren’t that.

Ghost had to tell himself that or else he would have to come to terms that he liked the way you were looking at him now. He wanted you to always look at him like that despite being undeserving of it especially after what he had put you through.

A smile, weak but warm, stretched across your face and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Hey.” You barely spoke above a whisper but he heard you through your hoarse voice. “Never seen you sleep, kinda weird.”

“How do you feel?” He knew the answer to the question but it was difficult for him to think of anything else to say when you looked at him like that.

“Like I’m high off so many drugs.”

You let out a breathless chuckle and sluggishly rubbed your eyes, taking a moment to look away from him.

Ghost quickly pulled his mask on, finding the courage to do it when you were looking away from him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to see his face, quite the opposite if he was being honest, but right now it was too much for him. He felt safer with his feelings under the mask.

You let out a short sigh, your sides spasming as you found it difficult to take a deep breath. The pain was gone for the moment but your body still understood it was damaged and Ghost knew what the pain was going to feel like when they wore off.

When you looked back at him, your face fell with disappointment. He swallowed thickly and averted his eyes to look somewhere else on your body, opting to look at your bandaged fingers that mimicked his due to your similar injuries.

“I like your face.” You blurted out which caused his eyebrows to knit together as he looked back at you. “Should've guessed you were blond from your eyelashes.”

“Used to be blonder when I was younger.” He said and watched another smile pull at your lips when you thought of a young Ghost.

“Bet it was platinum.”

“Close to it.”

Ghost indulged in your normal conversation. He didn’t want to speak about what happened to you right now, not when you were the most conscious he had seen you since before you both had been captured. He wanted to give you a moment's reprieve, to understand that right now you were safe from harm both within your mind and outside of it.

Your body would hopefully heal without many complications but your mind would take time, a lot longer than what you would want and what he wished for you.

He would be there for you though. He always would and he hoped you knew that. Even if he wasn’t sure how he would help you, rarely even able to help himself in a way that made him feel better, but he would try for you.

He also selfishly enjoyed this, the normal conversation distracted him from all the horrible thoughts he could be thinking about. Having you talk to him this way was something he always enjoyed and he liked that even now you were still doing it.

“Are you okay?” You asked him so softly yet his eyes narrowed as if you had accused him of something.

“M’fine.”

He barely gave you a chance to continue when he sat up. Pain flushed over him, more than ever since he hadn’t moved his body for a few hours. The stiffness in his muscles turned to soreness which made his entire body ache as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed. His wounded leg screamed with pain and he was careful to not rip the stitches open this time as he pressed his foot on the cold ground, suppressing a shiver and any outward sign that he was in pain.

No one would’ve been able to tell he was injured if it weren't for the fact that he was getting out of a hospital bed. He stood tall and completely unbothered with the same tired eyes as always, hidden beneath his mask.

He was a beast afterall, as Soap put it. He could’ve had more injuries sustained from the capture and he still would’ve carried you out of there. The soreness he was feeling now was nothing compared to previous injuries he’s had in the past. They were an inconvenience now, one that he wished he could get rid of but unfortunately he was still human and that meant he would have to wait.

Even so, that wasn’t going to stop him from doing as he pleased and focusing on you.

He huffed when the machines connected to him made it difficult to move. Without a second thought he ripped the wires off him and unplugged the machine before it started to alert the nurses again, causing you to gasp.

“Ghost!” You scolded him but he just ignored you and grabbed the glass of water Soap left.

You watched him intently, noting the way he had a slight limp as he walked over to you. You tried to sit up on your elbows, but you were far too weak to even get your shoulders off the bed.

Ghost wrapped an arm around your shoulders and very carefully pulled into his side when he sat on the edge of your bed. He held onto you to keep you sitting up straight and let you lean on him for support, nearly sighing with relief when he finally felt your weight on him again.

You were like glass in his arms, fragile and handled with immense care as if you would break if even an ounce of pressure was placed on you. He raised the water up to your lips to let you drink it and you managed to tilt your head back as he tipped the glass forward.

He made sure to tip it slowly so as to not spill any of it on you. He watched your eyes flutter shut with relief when you began to drink the water and he subconsciously began to rub circles into your arm with his thumb.

When you finished he went to refill the glass but you managed to have enough strength to grab onto his shirt.

“Stay.” You were breathless, having exerted all of your energy to sit up on the bed. “Please?”

You needed him. A sense of safety had washed over you when had pulled you into his warmth and when he had moved to leave, your stomach dropped. You knew that he wasn’t going to leave you and that he would come back but you didn’t want him to leave at all, not right now.

Ghost stared down into your exhausted eyes that begged him to stay put for just a little longer and his chest tightened. He couldn’t say anything, the words lost to him again as he fought the urge to lean down and place a kiss anywhere that you would allow him to. An attempt to tell you all the comforting things he wished he could say, to take away the pain with a simple touch against your skin and let you rest as if the world outside of this moment didn’t exist.

Instead, he nodded and set the glass down. He kept his arm around you and when you rested your head on his chest he stiffened for only a moment. When he realized that he liked having you against him like that, he dared to pull you just a little closer.

He listened to you soft wheezing and was reminded of how much worse it had been before. It made him glare up at the ceiling and regret that he had killed the weapons dealers already.

If he hadn’t been trying to get you out of there and it had just been him, he would’ve left them so he could find them again. He would’ve spent little time finding them and would’ve made them suffer ten times worse than you had for even thinking about putting a hand on you.

Ghost wished he could take your pain and inflict on himself so you wouldn’t have to suffer so much. You didn’t deserve to be punished for him doing his job, for keeping his mouth shut, for being too tight-lipped about worthless information. He should’ve just told them what they wanted and broken out before they killed you both so you didn’t have to go through this now.

How were you not repulsed by seeing him? How were you resting your head on his chest like this, acting as if he wasn’t the reason you couldn’t breathe, the reason why you were going to lose sleep?

The guilt festered in his stomach and boiled into his throat. He wanted to push you off of him despite how desperate he was to have you against him.

He felt you weakly tug on his shirt. His eyes softened ever so slightly when he stared down at your heavy lidded eyes. He could tell you were getting drowsy which prompted him to hesitantly place a hand on your waist so he could move you back into bed.

You hummed, your eyes falling shut for a moment and pressed your face into his chest more. You took a deep breath and your muscles loosened, your arms hanging by your side unmoving.

“Thank you.” You whispered with the intent to show gratitude but all it did was make him feel worse.

He couldn’t accept it. He didn’t deserve it, not when you could barely stay awake for more than thirty minutes. Not when you couldn’t move on your own and certainly not when you had to be pumped full of meds to even speak without feeling like you were dying. There was no reason for you to thank him for anything that he did.

“You should sleep.” He kept a steady and soft voice as he wrapped his arms around you. “Doctor will be back soon. Probably run some tests.”

“‘Kay.”

Ghost moved you with ease. It was as if you weighed nothing to him, even when his muscles were sore, as he laid you down back in bed. He treated you so gently, like you were a porcelain doll being put away as he pulled the blanket up to your chest.

He stared down at you with narrowed eyes that concerned you yet you were too tired to say anything. He moved your arms over your stomach before he moved his hand to hold onto your wrist, his finger pressing into your pulse to feel it go steady, a much better feeling than when it had been weak.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact and you placed your smaller hand over his, your thumb sluggishly caressing his scarred knuckles.

“Sleep.” He repeated, causing you to hum.

He moved his hand away from your wrist and limped back to his bed. He kept every wince in, feeling that his pain was nothing compared to yours, that he had the audacity to even express that he was hurting around you.

He sat on the edge of his bed. He didn’t care to hook himself back up to the machine or to plug it back in as he stared at your now unconscious form. He gripped the bed tightly under him and clenched his jaw as he watched you sleep.

Ghost wasn’t sure how long he sat there for, staring at you completely enamored by you again yet his heart hurt a lot more than normal. He wondered if this would be the last time you would get actual sleep and doubted that a few days from now you’d be able to stay on the meds. He dreaded the moment he would have to hear your pained cries again, just the memory of it making him feel sick.

A sigh left his chest as he heard approaching footsteps that brought him out of his thoughts.

More tests, more pain, and nothing he could do to help you.

You weren’t sure how to react when you felt your lieutenant’s stare on your back as you walked into the training room.

On one hand, you didn’t mind having him watching you.

It was Ghost, you had worked with and known him for a few years now. You knew his mannerisms, his little ticks and what he was feeling when you watched him, finding out that he was actually very expressive for someone who hid their face as much as he did. You had managed to befriend him over the years and though he would never openly call you his friend, you both had some sort of connection between you.

That connection ran deep, into the way you both found solitude together in both quiet and loud moments. On missions you two talked to keep each other in check, to understand what mindset you both were in and if it was one you could work with.

Jokes, little things done for each other whether the other person asked for it or not, and on the rare occasion talking about what was really wrong with you both is what kept you both close.

It shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise to you as it had been when you found out you were in love with your lieutenant, it was obvious when you thought back on it. To the moments where you would practically confess your love to him through your eyes, the little touches you gave him so you could just have a tiny taste of the warmth that radiated off his body, the need to be there for him and to listen to him when he gave you the honor of opening up.

You wanted to believe that the moments you spent with Ghost were that of friends, of co-workers because that’s who you’re supposed to be. But to you it was much more than that now.

So you were happy to feel his eyes on you as you wrapped your hands in preparation for a sparring match. You liked when he watched over you because you knew that you were safe when he did.

On the other hand, this was a stare that wasn’t exactly kind.

In reality, Ghost was glaring at you. His eyes were narrowed, pointed on you as he watched every movement you took, every twitch in your muscles. He was almost like a predator waiting for its prey to drop its guard to attack.

He was pissed and you noticed it the moment your eyes met when you walked into the training room. He wasn’t trying to hide it either, especially when you offered a smile and a wave, he just stood there glaring at you.

You knew why.

It had been a month. A month since he had carried you to safety and a week or so since you had been discharged from the infirmary. You were still healing, your ribs hadn’t fully healed and you got frequent headaches from your concussion still. Most of the cuts had been stitched back, leaving scars across your skin, the most prominent one being a nasty gash that stretched from your left temple to eyelid.

You weren’t supposed to be super active, the doctor ordering you to take walks instead of train until you were back to full health, but you were going a little crazy. The walks weren’t enough to keep your stiffness or the restlessness away and you were desperate to get back into your old routine.

Today was a good day, with barely any bad thoughts and no panic attacks or crying spells. You were lucky to still have those good days and every day day you had made you more grateful for when you were okay.

You glanced back at Ghost.

He was still glaring at you. You wanted to tell him to stop and that you were fine but ever since you both got back, he seemed to believe that you were still in constant pain. More like soreness but he was insistent that you followed doctors orders and made sure you didn’t do anything at all, almost making it so you could even go on your doctor ordered walks.

However you would take the glare instead of the pitiful look he gave you most of the time.

“You could spar with me if you’re that worried.” You offered, which made his eyes narrow at you even more.

“I want you to leave.” He demanded and you had to suppress a laugh.

“You can’t force me to sit in my room all day.”

“I can.”

You gave him a look but he didn’t falter which made you shake your head.

Ghost was in a particularly bad mood today which meant he was more stubborn than usual. Usually his bad moods helped fuel him to get through missions with precision and efficiency since it was a good way to get it out of his system. He rarely ever let himself get into a bad mood and was able to control his emotions pretty well, but recently his patience had run thin.

You wondered if he was going through what happened too, it only made sense. He had been beaten to shit too.

“I know my limits. This is just going to be a warm up.” You explained to him but he shook his head.

“If you knew your limits you wouldn’t be here.” He argued. “You haven’t given your ribs enough time to heal.”

“Did you give your leg enough time to heal?”

You gave him an expectant look but he only stared back at you. While he was busy watching you all of the time it gave you the chance to watch him as well and you noticed that he still had a slight limp. You also noticed the way he would flex the hand he broke, most likely trying to get the stiffness to go away.

You could only assume the reason why they were still acting up was because he had walked out of the infirmary a week before you which had not nearly been enough time to heal his wounds.

It was a little hypocritical in your mind and made you just a little annoyed. You appreciated that he was looking out for you and honestly it made your chest warm a lot more than it should've, but you were starting to feel smothered.

You were still strong.

“I’m a big girl.” You said and you saw him fight an eye roll. “I’ll be fine.”

You didn’t give him the chance to argue further as you walked towards the sparring mats. You eyed a lot of the rookies who were training today under Soap’s supervision with curiosity, noting that many of them were being sloppy in their forms.

You almost wanted to point that out to Ghost since if they were being this bad at sparring, it would be a walk in the park. You’d be surprised if you broke a sweat.

“How the fuck did any of ya get here?” Soap yelled being the most annoyed you had seen him in a long time.

“Rough day.” You commented and he groaned, causing you to give him a small smile.

“Price must have it out for me, I’m losin’ my head here.”

You chuckled and found that your attention stayed on him rather than the rookies in front of you. You found that looking at your fellow sergeant was a lot more calm than watching the sparring matches in front of you. Now that you were up closer, you could see that even though the rookies were sloppy with their moves, they were still being rough as they normally would be.

Soap kept you calm despite the fact that often he was the one who had the most energy. Usually you would feed off of it, but lately you hadn’t felt well enough to keep up with him. Now anytime you were with him he seemed to be more on the lowkey side which made you wonder if he was doing that on purpose or not.

“L.t. know you’re here?” Soap wondered and you hummed.

“Yeah, he knows.” You muttered, not looking back because you knew he was still watching you judging by the fact you could still feel his eyes on you.

“And he let you stay?”

You sent him a look but he only looked worried at you. It made you shift uncomfortably in your spot and you wanted to look away from him but there was nowhere else for you to look.

You didn’t know how to react to everyone’s extreme worry for you. It wasn;t a surprise that they cared for you but with the amount that they expressed you wondered if maybe they believed you were never good enough for this job in the first place.

So what if you had been tortured? It’s a rare occurrence for everyone who works in this field but it did happen and it wasn’t like you were the first person to get beat to shit. It made you feel like maybe you would always be this way, that there was no way you were going to recover.

“He wants to kick me out.” You said and Soap let out an amused huff.

“You gonna let him?” He wondered and you gave him a small smile.

“No.”

A rookie slammed another rookie on the sparring mat and you flinched. Your heart rate picked up as they wrestled with each other and you crossed your arms to hide the slight shakiness in your hands, finding it hard to continue watching them. Instead, you tried to direct your attention to someone else, only to find that any sight of sparring was making you nauseous.

You felt exposed, like everyone was staring at you, like everyone could see adrenaline running through your veins and you wanted to hide.

An image of a dirty room, the smell of copper stuck in your nose, the sound of your struggling breaths and the body of the one you loved bound to a chair spitting out blood.

Approaching footsteps, terror, the scramble to try to escape but not getting anywhere, the pleas for it to stop.

The pain. The searing hot pain that made you want it all to end.

“Y/n.”

Ghost’s voice was right next to and pulled you out of the horrendous images, leaving you clammy and your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

You blinked a few times and when you moved to look at him, you could feel the tension in your muscles slowly dissipate as you remembered where you were.

There was a soft look in his eyes that made your heart slow down. He extended his hand hesitantly and brushed his knuckles against your arm so lightly that if it weren’t for the tingling sensation that was left behind from his warmth, you would’ve thought he hadn’t touched you at all.

It was the most comfort you assumed you could be given by him, whether that be because you both were in public or because he couldn’t give you anymore, but it was enough to make you realize that you were safe.

No matter what happened to you, you would be safe because of Ghost. He would do anything to keep you safe and you knew it, the fact that he had completely ignored his injuries to carry you said more about that than any words could.

You let out a deep breath and some of the panic went with it.

There went the good day.

Ghost had that pity look in his eyes and everything went sour. Even with the mask on you could see it, you could see the way his eyebrows tensed together as he wondered about the poor state you were in.

You were fine.

Your eyes narrowed and you looked back at the sparring mats, determined to find someone who was waiting for their next match. Not only could you prove to Ghost and anyone else who must’ve thought the same way that you were capable, this would be a good way to take your mind off of what just happened.

Your eyes landed on a rookie who was drinking some water.

He was much taller than you and a little bigger, but that didn’t mean he would be any better than you. In fact, judging by the way his shoulders slumped he seemed to have a shy demeanor.

“Rookie!” You called out to him and he looked up at you with surprise. “Want another round?”

“Sure.” He set down his water and made his way onto a free space in the mats.

You went to meet him before a firm hand grabbed your arm, causing you to clench your jaw when you looked back at Ghost.

“Sergeant.” His tone was as much of a warning as his hardened eyes were. You were one bad experience away from being thrown out of the training room and he made sure you understood that.

You didn’t falter and you knew you were playing a dangerous game by defying your lieutenant. It was almost a shock to you at how insubordinate you were but then again he hadn’t ordered you to get out yet, all he had done was give you warnings or concerns from a place of friendship rather than a place of work.

“You sure you want to fight ‘em?” Soap eyed you with concern causing you to groan. “I don’t think-“

“Will you two stop it?” You ripped your arm from Ghost. “I’m fine.”

You glared at them both and as much as you wanted to tell them off, to yell at them so they would get the point and to get your frustration out but you couldn’t. There was no point in that, it wouldn’t solve anything in fact you were sure it would make things worse by pushing them away for both you and them.

You had to tell yourself they were trying to help, even when they were being this overbearing.

Instead, you let out a huff and sent them a short glare to get them to back off before you made your way to the rookie.

“Go easy, yeah?” Soap called out to you both but you didn’t say anything.

You stood in front of the rookie with a smile in an attempt to shake the thoughts from your head and to ignore the stares you were getting from the sidelines. You took a deep breath when he returned the smile and shook out any of the nerves that you still had.

The rookie seemed friendly, especially when you directed him to take a stance in front of you and fixed his form for him.

“Let’s not do anything rough.” You told him because despite the fact that you wanted to prove yourself, you did know your limits.

“Yes ma’am.”

You snorted and shook your head, finding it almost sweet that the rookie would be that respectful to you, before you threw a punch towards him. You almost laughed at the expression on his face when it connected with his chest, the light punch being barely a tap, before you went to hit him again.

The rookie tried to dodge but wasn’t fast enough. Every punch you threw landed and with each movement you felt yourself slowly start to feel back to normal.

Each dodge from the rookie's fist made you feel alive again, you were breathing heavily but it felt good, there was barely any pain and the rush from being untouchable made you confident. It was almost as if nothing had happened and that made you feel so much better about yourself than a month's worth of recovery had.

The rookie got sloppy the longer you went. He seemed to be worn out with how quick you were, being unable to catch a break from your relentless punches. If this was a normal spar, one where you weren’t pulling your punches and going easier, he would’ve been out already and that fed your ego more than it should’ve.

His eyebrows were knitted in concentration and a flash of determined annoyance across his face. He seemed to change his entire demeanor as he got tired of you playing with him and he suddenly turned serious. His punches held weight to them that yours didn’t and he had managed to throw them at a faster speed that you were having trouble keeping up with.

You managed to hit him one more time without getting hit yourself and it must’ve set him off, causing him to throw out a punch far too quick for you to dodge.

His fist slammed into your side and your vision went white.

You couldn’t breathe and your abdomen spasmed from the hot, burning sensation prickled up from your lungs to your chest making it tighten. Your eyes watered as you tried to gasp for air and you clutched your side unable to hide the fact that you were in immense pain.

You collapsed onto your knees and your head connected with the mat as you keeled over in pain, rendered completely paralyzed with pain.

Panic rose in your chest the longer it took to breathe. The only thoughts that ran through your mind to keep you from falling into panic attack were you’re safe, Ghost is here, you’re safe.

The rookie knelt down in front of you and you flinched away from his touch when he rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay-”

“Get away from her!” Ghost demanded, his voice laced with anger only someone with fear could have.

You managed to lift your head off the mat to see him and Soap rushing towards you.

Ghost grabbed the rookie’s shirt and yanked him back with enough strength to throw him across the mat with ease. He sent a bone chilling glare towards the terrified man now as he created a protective barrier with his body as he stepped between you and the rookie.

His heart raced and he stood there as if to challenge the rookie to even think about trying to help you.

He clenched his fists tight, too tight as his newly healed hand ached painfully before he let Soap take care of the rookie. He kneeled in front of you and grabbed your shoulders to keep you steady.

You blinked the tears away and took a deep breath, letting lungs fill with air as you heaved from the sudden release of tightness in your abdomen. The air burned and felt warm in your throat and though you could finally breathe once more, the pain in your chest wouldn’t go away. The rookie had somehow managed to hit you in one of your more sores on your side and though he could’ve hit you a lot harder than he had, it was enough to make you feel like your ribs were stabbing into your lung every time you took a breath.

Ghost looked into your eyes with that pity look behind the anger. He was shaky, you could feel it in his hands and see him trying to control it as he narrowed his eyes. They bounced around your face and he quickly cupped your cheek with his large hand as your head dropped forward.

“I’m okay.” You rasped out to try to get him to stop worrying and to get rid of the look he had. “I’m fine.”

“Then get up.”

His voice sounded sharp and almost indifferent to how much pain you were in but you knew better. You could hear the worry deep within it especially with the way he was looking at you as you tried to gather strength to stand. He wanted you to get up, he wanted you to walk it off because if that were the case then you were okay.

You tried to. You tried to push yourself off the mat to walk it off like you used to do with any injury you may have gotten but you felt too heavy, like you couldn’t even support your own weight.

The strength you had wasn’t enough. You couldn’t push past the tightness or the stabbing in your lung that made it difficult to take long breaths. The pain spread everywhere and was too unbearable to even let you move on your own.

You were hurt. You were broken just like Ghost had thought.

You shut your eyes and your head hung with defeat.

“I can’t.”

You sat on the edge of a hospital bed in the infirmary with an ice pack pressed against the spot the rookie had punched. You were hunched over since it was the only comfortable position you could be in at the moment, even though there was still a dull ache left in your abdomen. The ice pack helped deter some of it along with some high dosage over the counter pain meds given to you by a nurse.

It had been hours since you had arrived in the infirmary. Ghost had to carry you to it and when you arrived they immediately began to check to see if your ribs had been broken again or had gotten worse. The tests took hours and spanned well into the early evening, making you miss out most of the day.

The tests had come back half an hour ago and you were lucky that your ribs weren’t broken again, only bruised just a little more. Unfortunately, that meant that more time was added to your leave which you had the luxury of being told when Price scolded you after he heard about what happened.

You were exhausted. Everything that happened today had taken it out of you and you were just ready to go to bed in the hopes that you could get some uninterrupted sleep after this. You doubted you would, you had come close to two panic attacks today and horrible flashbacks that you were sure you were going to be plagued by nightmares tonight.

You really had no one to blame but yourself for this. You could’ve listened to Ghost when he told you to get out, to go back to your room to rest but you were too stubborn to do that. Now you were dealing with the consequences of that.

He had been right that you hadn’t given yourself enough time, though that didn’t make him any less of a hypocrite in your book, but it definitely worsened your mood a lot more than what you wanted.

You didn’t really want to believe that you were that broken but you were. You couldn’t train without having a near panic attack or getting messed up by one punch. You could barely even do the mundane things in your life without feeling out of breath or sore in most places. There was nothing you could do without being reminded that you were practically below the average soldier in your job at the moment.

A huff left your mouth as you waited for the doctor to come back to release you from the infirmary. You were sure why it was taking so long but you hoped things would move along faster soon so you wouldn’t stew in your own thoughts anymore.

You heard footsteps approaching and you glanced up to see Ghost heading your way with a water bottle in his hand. You ignored the narrowed look in his eyes as they landed on you and instead you stared at the floor.

“Here.” He offered the bottle and you took it from him, taking a few sips of the cold liquid with a nod. “Still in pain?”

“Just sore.” You screwed the cap on and rubbed the spot on your ribs with your fingers.

“What’s the damage?”

You glanced up at him to see him still staring at you. You chewed on your inner lip when you made eye contact with him again and for a moment you saw his anger falter. His eyes turned soft and you watched as they bounced around your face.

You wondered what exactly his face looked like at the moment, whether his eyebrows were pulled together or if he had a scowl. His eyes were always expressive and you would never want that to change yet after you had seen his face, though it was hard to remember many details since you weren’t exactly sober, you wanted to always see it. Especially now when it was hard to tell if he wanted to chew you out for insubordination or to make sure you were okay.

Truthfully, all you wanted was for him to show his face. There was something about seeing him without the mask that made you feel infinitely better. Maybe it was the fact that you had looked at it while he carried you to safety or that he let you see it without a care, you weren’t sure, but you knew that right now you would feel a lot less tense if you saw him again.

“Bruised, not too bad but enough to extend my leave.” You explained and he nodded.

“Gives you more time to take care of yourself.” He said and though he wasn’t wrong it still made your eyes narrow.

“More like rubs it in my face that I’m fucking useless.”

You weren’t looking for pity, in fact you hadn’t meant to let that slip out but you were extremely frustrated with yourself. It made you cringe but that was taken away when Ghost’s eyes fell that pity look and all of the frustration built up inside of you burst out of you like a broken pipe.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?” You snapped and caught him off guard. “I don’t need your pity on top of everything else.”

“Pity?” He stared back at you offended and you rolled your eyes with a scoff.

“Yeah, you don’t hide it as well as you do with everything else.”

You glared at him and watched as he stared at you incredulously, the look setting off more anger in you. It was one thing for him to express it blatantly through the way he looked at you but it was another to lie to your face when you called him out on it.

He could at least own up to it. It still wouldn’t make things better in your mind, but he was usually an honest and direct person. This kind of behavior was unlike him and at the moment it bothered you more than it worried you, being too clouded by your own frustration to think anything different.

“You were hurt and you expect me not to care?” He snapped back, his voice raising ever so slightly as he loomed over you.

“I don’t want you to treat me like I’m dead weight!” You weren’t intimidated by him as you hopped onto the floor, completely disregarding any soreness you felt as you did so.

“After all that happened, you think I think of you as dead weight?”

Ghost scoffed and rolled his eyes, causing you to clench your jaw tightly. He glared down at you, the comforting dark void that were his eyes now turned to coldness as he tensed up. His body was rigid as if it pained him to even stand there and argue with you yet he looked as if he was angry enough to forget about that.

You were waiting for his emotions to take control of him, for him to yell at you to stop berating him but he still seemed to choose his words carefully.

It made you almost jealous how he rarely ever lost control when you were a mess of emotions bottled up that could explode with just a minor inconvenience. Even when he did lose control, it seemed he always put his anger towards something else rather than picking fights like you were doing right now.

What you didn’t know is that Ghost would hate himself more if he lost control of himself like he had in the base. He hated to argue with you, he hated to argue with anyone if he were being honest, but sometimes it couldn’t be avoided. What could be avoided was letting himself make the mistake of letting his anger speak for him.

That anger wasn’t him, he didn’t like it, not even when he killed the weapons dealers, and you didn’t deserve to have it directed towards you.

Ghost took a deep breath and though the anger didn’t leave his eyes some of the tension in his body did. He looked you straight in the eyes with his narrowed one and made sure that he was the only thing that had your attention.

“I don’t pity you.” He stated firmly as if that would end the argument once it was said.

As irritated as you were, you still had enough sense to see that he was telling the truth. You could see it in the way he never once looked away from you as he said it and when you let the words sink in, some of the anger slipped away. However, as you continued to stare at him it only left one question in your mind as you thought back to every moment he looked at you that way.

“Then what is it?” You huffed and still sent him a slight glare.

You wanted answers and frankly you deserved them. If he was going to say he wasn’t pitying you but he was going to act so protective over you then you had to know. You couldn’t keep letting this happen unless you figured out what exactly was making him act so strange.

He didn’t say anything, he only stared at you and to anyone else they wouldn’t have seen the nervousness that flashed in his eye for a split second but you caught it. You caught onto every little nervous tick he had; the way he would square his shoulders to make himself look bigger, stronger and intimidate whoever was making him feel that way to go away. His muscles would tense and his eyes would go alert as if he were waiting for something to attack him.

You were worried now. Why would it make him so nervous if he hadn’t been trying to hide it in the first place? He had told you the truth just now but when you wanted to know the real answer, he was suddenly back to keeping it from you.

If it wasn’t pity then what else could it be? He had only begun to look at you that way when you woke up in the hospital bed for the second time and despite the meds you could remember how his eyes went sad as he told you to go to sleep. You knew that he had been worried for you but at the time and even now you knew it was more than that.

You stared at him and looked deep into his eyes, noticing the way the nervousness grew worse when his eyes landed on the scar you had. That’s when it hit you.

It wasn't pity.

It was guilt.

Your chest tightened and you nearly felt tears begin to form as you looked at him with a kind of anguish you didn’t think you could feel. You scolded yourself for even thinking that he pitied you when really he was most likely putting himself through hell because of the guilt he had.

It made you want to cry because how could he ever blame himself for your pain when he never hurt you? He had saved you, you were alive standing in front of him. Never once did you ever think to place the blame on him for what happened and yet he was the one carrying that burden when it should be the weapons dealers who were rotting six feet under.

“You don’t…blame yourself for what happened, do you?” You hoped that maybe you were wrong and that it had been something else entirely.

Ghost’s eyes widened slightly and he shifted away from you. He finally broke eye contact from you and though he stayed silent his actions said a lot more than any words ever could.

Your face fell and you placed a hand on his arm to try to comfort him.

“Simon-”

“Alright, sergeant.” The doctor called out as she walked up to you while looking at the papers in her hands. “Sorry for the wait.”

Ghost took it as an opportunity to leave and pulled away from your touch. He didn’t say anything to you as he made his way out of the infirmary, his usual long stride making it easier for him to disappear from your view too quickly for you to say anything.

There were no words you could say that would help the situation at the moment. You could hardly pay attention to the doctor as you stared at the doors, foolishly hoping that he would come back just because you wanted him to when you knew he most likely was in his room by now, hidden from everyone including you.

When you were finally able to leave the infirmary, you went to your room instead of going to his. You knew better than to pressure him into talking about something he didn’t want to, especially when he was worked up. It would get you nowhere and make things worse for you both.

Instead, you took the time to take a long shower. It would give you enough time to gather your thoughts for when you went to go talk to him and to give him enough time to be by himself.

The hot water running off your skin pulled you deep in thought. It was clear that Ghost didn’t want to talk about this to anyone but most certainly not to you and that had to do with the fact that he rarely ever talked about his issues with anyone, but you wondered if maybe there was another reason too.

Was he afraid that you blamed him? Did he think that you resented him for what happened?

The mere thought of that made you feel sick. You couldn’t let him think that you hated him when that was far from the truth. You hoped that you hadn’t done anything to make him think that, but if he already believed it then that was the case. However, you were determined to at least clear the air with him. You weren’t going to let the pain inflicted on you ruin your life even more by pushing you both away from each other.

You got out of the shower and dried yourself off, making sure to put on comfier clothes since you knew you weren’t going anywhere else tonight, and made your way to his room.

Ghost’s room was far from everyone else’s. It was no surprise to anyone that this was the case since he was a private man but it did mean that it was out of the way when you wanted to visit him. That never really stopped you, but you had only been to his room a handful of times before this moment since both of you were often together that you rarely ever went there to see him.

You stopped in front of his door and hesitated to knock. There was still a chance that he wouldn’t want to talk about it and for a split second you wondered if it would be better to wait until tomorrow before you shook your head. You wanted to clear the air now.

You knocked softly but loud enough for him to hear. You held your hands close to you as you fidgeted with them, your eyes glued to the door as you waited for a response.

“Ghost.” You called out after a long period of silence.

There was no response but you heard him approach the door and you took a small step back. The door opened and you looked up at Ghost to see him wearing more comfortable clothes as well along with his black balaclava, an outfit you liked almost more than what he wore on missions.

His eyes softened when he looked at you, they bounced around your face and his shoulders relaxed as he gave you a small nod. He seemed to be in a better mood than he had been the entire day and you judged by the way he looked at you, he wanted you to be with him at the moment.

“What do you need, sergeant?” He wondered and you bit the inside of your lip.

“Can we talk?”

Ghost gave another short nod and he stepped out of the way to let you in, his eyes never leaving as you entered his room. He closed the door behind you and stood in front of you expectantly without saying anything.

You opened your mouth to say something before you closed it. You were still playing with your hands as you tried to come up with the right words to say. It seemed like everything you had thought of in the shower had disappeared the moment you had laid eyes on him.

The silence between you both made your stomach churn ever so slightly and that never happened. Clearly something was going on since you never had an issue with being in silence with him before.

“I’m sorry about snapping at you earlier.” You decided to try to ease into the conversation in hopes that it would make it easier for him.

“Get to the point.” Ghost disregarded the question and you sent him a look.

Now he wanted to be direct.

“Why do you blame yourself for what happened?”

Ghost’s shoulders tense up again but he stayed put. He took a deep breath and this time you couldn’t see nervousness when you looked into his eyes, instead you saw his professional, cold stare he used often on the battlefield.

“As your lieutant, it’s my job to keep my team safe and I fucked up.” He said and your eyebrows knitted together. “And now you’re paying the consequences for my mistake.”

“We both fucked up.” You reminded him.

“Doesn’t matter. It was my responsibility and I failed.”

You felt your heartache as you saw the guilt creep into the anger he had. You watched his hands ball up into fists and watched how he began to breathe just a little heavier than before. It hurt you to see him beat himself up so harshly for something that wasn’t his fault, especially when he had suffered through the same torture as you.

You carefully placed your hand on his wrist and watched for any sign of discomfort in his eyes when you did.

His eyes neither softened nor did they show that he hated the contact, instead he watched your every move, every microexpression across your face as you slid your hand down.

You managed to slip your fingers through the fist he made, your soft skin gliding over his palm in an attempt to open his hand without you asking him to do it. When he let go of the fist he had made, you held his hand and caressed his scarred knuckles with your thumb while you stared up at him.

There was something else he was hiding and he was using the mask to keep it secret. You knew that it was a security blanket for him, not only to keep himself safe and to keep the persona he created for himself but also to create a barrier for vulnerable moments like these. It made him feel safe but it also pushed him down, drowning him in his pain and causing him to bottle it up until it was released on the battlefield. Now it was being used to block you from trying to ease his mind from the pain that your near death caused.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and stepped just a little closer, making sure to check if he was okay with you getting in his space. You felt him place his hands on your hips, his fingers gripping them ever so slightly as he pulled you almost into his chest.

Your fingers found the edge of his mask and you ran them along the hem of the fabric without looking away from his eyes.

“Can I see you?” Your voice was soft as if he would be scared away if you spoke any louder.

Ghost hummed an approval and watched as you rolled the fabric up in your hands before you slowly pulled it off his face, giving him enough time to change his mind if he truly did not want you to look at him.

When the mask was finally off of his face, your chest tightened even more when you could fully see the sadness that was etched into the scowl he wore on his face. Every scar, old and new, that peppered his face weighed him down more as he stared at you with eyes that were determined to keep hold of the anger he felt.

But it quickly disappeared when you gently place your hands on his face. Stubble scratched your fingers and you watched as his eyes widened ever so slightly from the sudden contact before they softened so much you thought you saw a few tears well up in them. Your thumb traced a new scar on his cheekbone and you caressed his cheek as you moved your hand to the nape of his neck. You ran your fingers through his messy hair and watched as his eyes fluttered shut.

Simon let out a long breath and leaned into you, holding you by your hips. For a moment you didn’t want to break the silence as you also found peace within it. You liked the way his hair felt on your fingers and you liked being this close to him, especially when his thumbs were rubbing small circles into your hips. You liked that in this moment you both were able to enjoy touching each other in softer ways than what either of you were used to.

You had to break it however. You couldn’t let him stay in pain.

“I never blamed you.” Your voice was still soft and he opened his eyes to look at you. “I would never in my entire life blame you for this.”

Simon’s eyebrows knitted together and he shook his head. He nearly pulled away from you but didn’t let go of his face. When he tried to look away from you, hurt and anger flashing across his face, you made sure to keep his attention as you continued to play with his hair.

“It’s not your fault, Simon.”

He stared into your eyes, searching for a hint of something that would tell him that you were lying but you were being the most honest he had ever seen you before. You were so sure in believing that he wasn’t at fault for what happened to you that he nearly believed it himself.

This time you did notice how his eyes got misty and you were prepared to watch a few tears fall but they never came.

Instead, Simon pulled you into him and wrapped his arms around you, careful to not put pressure against your ribs as he did so. He leaned his head down and rested his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes as he waited for you to reject him.

When you locked your arms around his neck and kept him as close to you as possible, he sighed with relief. He didn’t hesitate to turn his head to the side and press his lips against yours.

They were rough just like he was but he kissed you with a gentleness you didn’t know he was capable of. Each time your lips moved against his, your breath was stolen from you as he pressed you against him as much as he could, almost like he wanted to absorb every part of you into his body.

You melted into him, your arms locking behind his neck as you pulled him against you to get more of him if it was even possible. You shuddered when his warm hands ran up your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine with the ghost of touch through your shirt. The feeling set a fire in your stomach and even when his hands moved back down to your hips you could still feel the remnants of his touch.

Simon broke the kiss and snaked his arm under your knees. He picked you up with ease and held you close to him as he quietly caught his breath, his face slightly flushed while his dazed eyes stared deep into yours.

There was a deep desire within them heated by the weight of you in his arms. He could hold you like this forever if he wanted to and if you would let him. It made him feel strong enough to take the brunt of anything physical that dared to try to reach you without even flinching. It fueled the fire in him, it made him want you in ways that he only let himself think about when he was alone in the confines of his room with the image of you behind his eyes.

You felt the same way having his strong arms hold you up steadily with confidence. You weren’t worried he’d drop you, even when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned closer to place a kiss on his lips again. You hummed when he held onto you tighter and he let out a soft grunt as you took his lips into your.

He could carry you wherever he pleased and do whatever he pleased to you this way which made you dig your fingers into the nape of his neck.

He deepened the kiss. He held you almost the same way he had when he carried you to safety, protective and full of comfort that you would never be able to get from anyone else but that was okay but you didn’t want to get it from anyone else. You only wanted it from him, you only wanted him.

Simon moved towards his bed where he laid you down on top of it. He didn’t break the kiss as he climbed on top of you, pushing his leg between yours and slipping his tongue inside of your mouth. He tasted like tea with the faintest hint of cigarette smoke that made you hungry for more of him.

You let out a soft moan when his hand roamed down your side, his fingers leaving a tingling sensation across your skin when he moved it underneath your shirt. You arched your back into his warmth when he palmed your breast, his thumb rubbing across your nipple. You gripped his shirt tightly to keep him close to you and pressed your body into his, your mind already muddled from the minimal contact as he trailed kisses from your mouth to the underside of your jaw.

Your skin flushed with heat when he sucked the spot gently, earning another moan from your throat. You gasped when he bit your skin, a whine leaving your mouth when you felt a slight sting that was remedied by the swipe of his tongue over the spot.

You felt crushed underneath his weight in the best way possible, especially as he pinched your nipple between his fingers, his large hand squeezing and playing with the plump flesh as he pleased but it wasn’t enough. You could feel yourself ache for him to touch you in other places, you need more than just his hand on your breast, you needed both of them to hold you, to feel you in a place you only dreamed of before this moment.

You rolled your hips along his thigh to get some kind of friction, the snag from his pants against your aching cunt gave you enough to make you sigh with relief.

Simon grabbed the hem of your pants, stopping you from moving your hips as he gave them a tug. You didn’t hesitate to slip them off with his help and a moan escaped your mouth when he palmed you through your underwear which was already damp from your slick.

“Fuck.” He grunted in your ear before he began to leave more marks on your neck.

His fingers rubbed your clit through your underwear, making it more soaked as you moaned from the friction. Your hips moved up to meet his hand, small moans leaving your mouth as he put the right amount of pressure against you.

He grabbed your hips and pushed his leg on you more. He left kisses on your neck before he sat up to look down at you and you whined with a slight pout from the absence of his hot breath against your skin. However, that was quickly pushed away when he gently guided your hips along his thigh, the friction becoming more intense because of the removed layer. You rolled your hips along with his movements, the feeling of his pants against your clit through your underwear making you a noisy mess.

Simon watched you fuck yourself on his thigh with dark eyes full of desire. Each moan and gasp you made had him pushing you down on his thigh to add more pressure so you could get to your climax. His chest heaved up and down as an almost primal need to make you feel good overtook him.

You could see it in his eyes and it made you ride him harder, the familiar tug of pleasure building up. You chased it, your underwear now soaked and spreading to his pants as you gripped his arm for extra support. Your eyes were lidded as you stared up at Simon and you clenched around nothing as you saw just how much he liked seeing you come undone like this, how much he liked that you were using him for something good.

A tightening pain began to creep in your sides and you clenched your jaw. You were starting to get breathless but not in the way that you wanted to be. Your sides were spasming from the exertion and the spot where the rookie punched you stabbed into your lungs, making your chest heave. You were determined to keep going as you fought for the pleasure you felt against the pain in your lungs.

However, a particular bad stab against your lungs made you wince and stop. Heat flushed your face as you shut your eyes, placing a hand over them in an attempt to hide yourself as you huff with frustration.

“Fuck…I’m sorry.” You shook your head as your throat tightened.

“It’s alright.” Simon shushed you and pulled your hand away from your eyes, placing soft kisses against your lips. “You’re okay.”

He positioned himself overtop of you so he could keep kissing you as he began to move your hips on his thigh again. He went slow at first, giving you time to catch your breath as the pleasure began to build again. His grip was more gentle this time but he kept the same pressure against your cunt, nearly identical to the way you had been doing it before.

You were still tense, the soreness in your side still there as he moved your hips for you. You were struggling to hold onto the pleasure while trying to ignore the fact that you had given up, your body so tense you felt like a rock.

“Let go.” His voice was soft against your ear as he placed slow kisses on the marks he made on your neck. “I’ve got you.”

Those words, he had repeated to you over and over again when he had held you in his arms. They had been reassuring for him in the moment, to tell himself that he was strong enough to save you but now they had a different meaning. Those three words were to let you know that he was there for you, that he would always be there for you especially when you were damaged like you were. He could be strong for you, he could help you, he wanted to help you and he wanted you to accept it because he wanted to be there even when you were better.

They sunk into you and you slowly let go of the tension in your muscles, slowly stopped focusing on the pain and instead focused on the pleasure that he was giving to you.

You fell into his warmth and the friction against your clit began to cloud your mind again to the point you couldn’t control the sounds you were making. Your moans were like a song to Simon and he sighed deeply as he left another mark on your neck.

You were close and he could feel it. Your thighs began to twitch and your breaths were short as you grabbed his shirt tightly. You managed to get back enough strength to move your hips along with his hands again. Your eyes began to flutter shut and he kept a steady pace.

“That’s it, just like that.” He cooed in your ear when the band in your stomach finally snapped and your body tense as your orgasm washed over you.

The comforting praise from him made you feel more warm as you were out of breath again. You were still coming off of your high but you were still aching for him, you wanted more of him.

Dazed, you ran your fingers through his hair, giving him an impatient tug that made him leave a kiss on your shoulder, a way to tell you to wait for you to catch your breath.

“It’s okay, ‘m not going anywhere.” Simon assured you as he massaged his fingertips into your thighs.

You nodded, unable to say anything as you played with his hair, your fingers shaky from exertion and from your orgasm. It took a moment for you to start breathing normally and when you finally caught your breath he hovered over you.

Simon looked down at you with soft eyes still full of desire but there was something more within them. They bounced around your face as he brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles across your heated skin so softly like you would fall apart from his touch.

He cupped your face, using his thumb to caress your soft skin with calloused hands that have committed violent acts yet he touched you as if he were someone completely different. He took you in, your hair slightly damp from sweat and your lips plush from being kissed, and thought that this is what heaven looked like. He looked at you as if you were the most important thing in his life, like you were something that needed to be worshiped beyond what he could provide, a divine figure worthy of everything good in life.

You leaned into his touch and reached out to caress his face as well. Before you had always wondered what his face looked like, making up random features to put a face to the rough man you worked with everyday, but you were happy that nothing of what you thought had been right.

He was beautiful beyond anything that could be thought of. You were sure he’d disagree, even if he joked that he was handsome, saying that the scars made him ugly but you could never agree with him on that.

Simon leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your temple. He kissed your scar down to your eyelid and placed one on top of it. He moved to the rest of your face, peppering slow kisses all over it while he continued to caress your cheek with his thumb.

Your chest warmed and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close in a hug that warmed your chest. You ached even more for him, the affection making you roll your hips up into him causing you to gasp when you felt his erection through his pants.

“Needy.” He grunted and gently squeezed your cheeks with his hand.

“Please.” You begged barely above a whisper as you rolled your hips against him again.

His eyes darkened and he locked you into another passionate kiss where he let his hands roam down to your shirt. He grabbed the hem and caressed your skin with his fingers before he pulled your shirt off you, tossing it on the floor somewhere far from the bed. He ran his hands over your breasts tweaking your nipples as he placed kisses down your chest, biting and licking to mark you.

“Can’t say no to you.”

Simon kissed a few more times before he leaned back to get a good look at you but he froze.

You were covered in bruises. Most of them had faded and were almost gone from your skin, but there were a few that still held that unhealed darker shade to them. The spot where the rookie had hit you had already formed a fresh bruise that was the size of his fist. It was just the bruises either, it was the cut marks and the burns that were forever etched into your skin.

You had looked at them before this moment a few times, not dwelling on them for very long since you would like to keep your indifference to them in tact.

You looked up at Simon with concern as you noticed the guilt creep back into his eyes. It made your heart ache but you reached out and placed a hand on his cheek making him look back at you with those sad eyes of his.

A soft reassuring smile spread across your face as you caressed his face in an attempt to give him some sort of comfort.

“It looks worse than it is.” You said but he didn’t look convinced.

You took one of his hands and placed it over your new bruise, watching as he looked at you hesitantly, almost as if he were begging you to not make him touch it, but you didn’t listen. You gently pressed his hand on it, the pressure only making your eye twitch as most of the soreness seemed to only come when you were moving.

Simon spread his fingers across your skin, barely touching it with a ghost-like touch that nearly made you squirm. He stared at your bruise for a few more moments before he leaned down and tentatively placed a kiss on top of him. He moved to the others, giving them all a soft kiss as if it would make them disappear.

He rubbed his hands over your sides down to your thighs. The petting and the kissing warmed your skin again and you moved your hips up to meet his again, a satisfied hum leaving you when you felt that he was still hard even after he saw your marks.

He hummed deep in his chest before he held your hips down, continuing to leave kisses all over you. His stubble scratched a certain spot on your stomach and you couldn’t suppress the shudder that went through your body before a soft giggle left your mouth.

You felt him smile, a very small one, as he looked up at you and your face flushed hot.

“I’m ticklish…” You admitted and watched as a mischievous look flashed in his eyes that made your eyes widened.

“Noted.” He pressed more kisses as he trailed down to your underwear, taking the time to occasionally rub his chin in spots that made you squirm.

“Don’t you dare.”

“‘nother time, love.”

You blinked at the pet name and how easily he seemed to say it that you almost looked past the fact that he just threatened to tickle you. You were about to scold him for it when he dragged his hot tongue over your soaked underwear, taking away any words that you may have said.

A whimper left you as he licked you through the piece of clothing again, his eyes never leaving your face which contorted with pleasure the more he drenched them with his mouth.

Simon played with you like this as you let out soft mewls and whimpers, fueled by the way you squirmed underneath him until the taste of you through your underwear wasn’t enough. He pulled them off of you, not wanting to waste anymore time before he swiped his tongue slowly over your soaked cunt.

He groaned. It was loud and from his chest, as if it had been ripped out of him without a chance for him to even keep it in. He laid your legs over his shoulders and held onto your hips to keep you in place as he shut his eyes to taste you, letting out another groan as he did so. He started out slow but it didn’t last long because as soon as he got the taste of you in his mouth, on his tongue along with the beautiful sounds of your moans, he was lost in the primal need to have you.

He licked you as if he had been starved of this, as if this was the only time he’d ever get the chance to taste you again. His tongue worked on your clit, circling it until it was puffy from the overstimulation and made you whine. He sucked it while his tongue lapped of the juices and he opened his eyes to watch you fall apart so easily from his mouth.

The west sounds from his mouth and from your cunt were sinful, almost pornographic as he added a finger inside of you. Your heart was in your ears as you watched you eat you out with the determined ambition he had when he was on missions. The serious look in his eyes that was so full of desire it made you throw your head back onto his pillow and gripped his sheets so tight your fingers went sore. Your moans were loud no matter how hard you tried to restrain them and you wondered if maybe he was doing that on purpose.

You were already close to your second orgasm again by the time he added another finger. Your thigh squeezed his head as the pleasure tightened in your lower stomach but he didn’t move away, in fact it seemed to make him eat you out faster.

You came in his mouth as a loud moan ripped through your throat. Your back arched off the bed as your eyes rolled the back of your head, your muscles spasming from the intense orgasm and from the continued licks from Simon. He helped you ride it out and you expected him to let you catch your breath but you were wrong.

He didn’t stop once, not as you orgasmed or it left you, causing you to whimper and whine. His eyes were locked onto you as he pushed his nose against your clit while he fucked your hole with his tongue.

You were breathless. It felt like all of the air was being squeezed out of you as your moans became uncontrollable. You didn’t care if anyone else in the base heard you as the pleasure you felt was enough to make you feel like your entire body was floating. You were at his mercy as you writhed underneath him and he was relentless, only taking a millisecond to catch his breath before he was back to eating you out like a wild animal.

Your next orgasm hit you so quickly that your vision went out. Nothing left your mouth as your mouth was open in a silent scream as your body shook and lifted off the bed. You gripped the sheets for dear life, them being the only thing that was keeping you grounded as your mind went completely blank. You couldn’t even tell if you were breathing or not as he continued to lick your overstimulated cunt.

Simon didn’t stop until you were twitching and trying to move your hips away from him, your whimpers and whines sounding too pained for his liking. He sat back, panting heavily as he stared at your limp form, feeling a little too proud of himself as he placed kisses on your inner thighs.

He removed his clothes down to briefs, throwing them away as if they were something undesirable, before he climbed on top of you and trapped you underneath him.

You tasted yourself on his tongue when he locked you into a kiss. You moaned into his mouth as your hands ran down his back, tracing any scars you came across while he played with your raw nipples.

Despite the throbbing soreness you felt in your cunt, you still wanted more of him. You wanted to feel all of him and to have him buried deep inside of you until you couldn’t feel anything anymore. It made your stomach flip as you tugged on the band of his briefs, wondering what he could do with his cock if he could make you fall apart so easily with his mouth.

“After all that you still want my cock inside you?” He huffed a laugh in your ear as he went back to attacking your neck. “Dirty thing.”

You nodded, unable to say anything as he rolled his hips into you, his hard cock rubbing against your puffy clit which made you whimper. He held you by the chin and forced you to look at him, his eyes hooded and as he shook his head.

“Use your words.” His other hand pinched your nipple and you whined.

“Please.” You pleaded as you pulled his briefs down his hips. “I want your cock inside me, please.”

“Anything for you.”

Simon pushed your hands away before you pulled his underwear off, his cock finally springing free from its confines. It was red and puffy, the tips leaking beads of precum that you would’ve licked away if you weren’t so needy to have him inside of you. You weren’t surprised by his size. Someone who was as big as Simon Riley had to be packing something as big as his cock was and it only made you want him inside of you more. You were ready to feel all of him, to feel full even if you couldn’t take all of him.

He took his cock in his hand and pumped it a few times before he rubbed the tip on your clit, spreading precum all over you and getting your juices on him. You both hissed at the contact and you arched your back into him in order to feel more of him. You were breathing heavily with anticipation as he pressed the tip of his cock at your entrance.

You gasped and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Your fingernails dug into his skin as he held you close to him before he slowly began to push himself inside of you. You moaned as his cock stretched you wider than you ever had been before and even with how wet you were it wasn’t enough to take away the pain. You blinked away any tears as you felt Simon rub comforting circles into your hips with his thumb while he kissed your shoulder.

He let you get used to him before he pushed more of him inside of you, letting out a few grunts of his own as your walls stretched to fit him. Every time he moved, he made sure to leave kisses on your skin and to rub his thumb into your hip to keep you relaxed as you adjusted to his size. Before long, he bottomed out leaving you both breathless as you held onto each other.

You hugged him close to you and he wrapped his arms around you protectively. You both stayed like that for a moment, the full and heavy feeling of his cock inside of you enough to have you flutter around him. You wrapped your legs around his hips and kissed his neck, leaving a few marks of your own which made him shudder.

It wasn’t until the pain had subsided to a dull ache that you rolled your hips into his at a slow pace. Soft whimpers left your mouth as you buried your face in his neck, the sensation almost too much for you to handle.

Simon whispered encouraging words in your ear, rubbing circles into your shoulder blades and back as you set the pace. He was breathing heavily in your ear, letting out soft grunts as he left hot kisses on your shoulder. He kept you in a secure hold with his arms wrapped around you, the warmth from his body being the only other thing you could feel.

Eventually your body betrayed you and you felt the all too familiar stabbing pain in your ribs, but where you left off, Simon picked up. He rolled his hips into you at a steady but gentle pace. He focused on the way you reacted, the small gasps and moans you let out as he moved against you, making sure to keep himself in the right angle so you could feel every good feeling he wanted you too.

The pace made you breathless and had you whimpering, slowly building the pleasure again but it wasn’t enough. You knew that he was capable of more than what he was doing but he was holding back. He didn’t want to hurt you and though you didn’t want him to be too rough, there was another time for that, you could handle more than what he was doing right now. As much as you liked how caring he was being, you wanted him to ruin you in the best way possible, to open you up like no one else has before and make you his.

“Simon,” You moaned and his breath hitched as he looked down at you. “Harder, please.”

“No…”

He kissed you and though he was being gentle with you, you could tell he wanted to go harder, faster than he was so he could chase both of your highs. It was sickeningly sweet how a man who seemed so cold could be this kind to you, even when you both wanted more. His control was impressive though he seemed to have too much of it at the moment.

“I can handle it.” You assured him and he pressed his lips together. “Please, I need you. I need to feel you.”

“Fucking hell.” He groaned and stopped moving, causing you to whine.

Simon ran his hands up your thighs and held you behind your knees. His fingers gripped your skin firmly and you looked up at him expectantly. He had a serious look in his eyes as he stared at you before he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes going slightly soft as he sighed deeply.

“You have to tell me to stop if it gets too much.” He warned and you nodded as your stomach flipped.

“Promise.” You kissed him tenderly and rolled your hips into his, causing him to groan.

Simon kissed you back just as passionate before he moved against you. He started out slow again, letting you get used to it before he picked up the pace. His cock slid in and out of you with ease as he nearly pulled himself out all of the way only to slam back into you. He kept your legs in place as he watched your breasts bounce from the force, somehow getting harder at the sight.

You threw your head back and dug your nails into his shoulders as he set a brutal pace hitting the most sensitive spots inside of you. Every thrust knocked the wind out of you and you became a writhing mess underneath him as he didn’t relent for anything. The sounds of your moans mixed with the wet sounds of his cock slamming inside of you and your mind went completely blank. You couldn’t even think to move your hips along with his, so drunk off his cock already that all you could do was lay there and take it.

His cock hit the spot inside of your walls that made you open up for him to go deeper and you begged him to keep going. You lifted yourself up from the bed to feel more of him and nearly cried when the head of his cock kissed your cervix. It felt like he was inside of your stomach and you couldn’t breathe again as your walls clenched so tight around him he let out a moan.

He would’ve laughed at how close you were already but it only made him feel pride in himself that he was the one making you feel this good. He was the only one who got to see you come apart like this, he was the only one who could make you orgasm like this.

“C’mon.” He grunted as he moved to hold your hips, holding you down. “Give it to me.”

He hit that spot on your walls over and over again, even when your legs began to shake. Your vision went blurry from tears and you gripped his arms so tight you were sure you left marks on them as your moans went high pitched. The pleasure became so much that when the orgasm hit you saw stars as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body shook uncontrollably. You went completely limp as you moaned, whimpered and cried out with pleasure that a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

Simon didn’t stop and helped you ride out your orgasm before he smashed his lips against yours. He bit your lip as you cried, licking away your salty tears as he chased his own high that was now starting to build up inside of him as well. He was breathing heavily and you writhed underneath him from overstimulation but he wasn’t going to stop, not when he could feel another build up inside you.

You wondered how long he could go for before he hit that spot again, taking out any thoughts you had as you fell back onto the bed. You were reduced to nothing but cries of pleasure again as he pounded into you.

You were so vulnerable, so beautiful and crying the way you should be crying, out of pleasure, from something good and not from something out of fear. Not only was he keeping you safe he was making you feel better, he was making you feel good. So good that you had already cummed on him four times already.

“No one’s ever gonna touch you again.” He grunted under his breath before he latched his mouth on your neck, sucking your bruised flesh. “Never letting you get hurt again.”

“Simon.” You sobbed and he thrust into you harder.

“I’m here, love.”

His thrust began to turn erratic as he felt himself close to the edge. He was pushed further towards it when you clenched around him again and he found the spot that made you a mess, using it to chase his own high as well. His breath was ragged and he couldn’t help the groans that escaped him when he felt you shake underneath him.

“That’s it, one more. Just one more.” He slurred his words as you clung to him for dear life.

Another orgasm hit you and this one completely ripped through you. It was as if you had an out of body experience, you were floating in the sticky air, gone from Simon’s room as his voice sounded so far away from you as he repeated your name like a mantra.

He thrust into you a few more times before you felt him release hot, sticky liquid inside of you. He gripped the sheets beside your head as he pushed all of his cum into you before he went still, his chest pressing against yours as you both panted like you had run a marathon.

For a moment, you both laid there in each other's arms in silence. Your skin was hot and sticky from your sweat and from Simon’s, but you didn’t mind. You were content with burning your face into the crook of his neck and falling asleep this way as exhaustion caught up to you again. You managed to wrap your arms around him to pull him into a hug that he returned immediately.

Simon regained his breath a lot quicker than you. He pushed himself off you and looked down at you, his eyes going soft as he saw the exhaustion in your eyes. He worried that he went too hard before you gave him a smile. He placed his hand on your cheek and kissed you one last time before he slowly pulled out of you.

You whimpered from the movement and you were left feeling empty without him.

You watched him get up from the bed and walk towards the bathroom with heavy eyelids. You shut your eyes when you heard the sink run, finding that his bed was actually pretty comfortable compared to yours, though without him beside you, the chill from the air against your damp skin made you shiver. Time seemed to go by slowly as you waited for him to come back yet when you heard him return you didn’t have any energy to open your eyes until he placed a gentle hand on your thigh.

When you opened them, you saw him use a towel to wipe up the mess between your thighs, causing you to wince from the contact and him to rub his fingers into your skin.

He got up to leave again and you scooted over on his bed to make room for him. The bed was small and you weren’t sure how comfortable either of you would be if you slept together, but you didn’t want to go back to your room. When he came back he laid down on the bed beside you and pulled the blankets over you both before he pulled you into his chest, maneuvering you in a way that your head rested on his chest.

You placed a hand on his chest and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“I’m going to be okay.” You said after a long period of silence. You looked up at him and he stared down at you with certainty. “Eventually.”

“Still doesn’t mean I won’t worry.” He sighed and you felt him flex his broken hand on your waist.

“You can worry, I just want you to know I’ll be okay.”

You took his hand in yours and pressed your fingers into his palm. You massaged the places between his knuckles, his fingers and anywhere else that might be stiff, working in firm circles to make sure that the job would get done while he watched you with tired eyes.

Simon placed a soft kiss on your forehead and pulled you closer.

“Okay.”

Long after you fell asleep, Simon laid there watching your chest rise and fall in the darkness. He held onto you to keep you close to him as studied how relaxed your face looked as you slept peacefully beside him. This wasn’t the first time he had committed the image to memory but after tonight, this would always be burned into his mind until the day he died.

He never expected to sleep with you but he didn’t regret it. Not when you looked at him like you loved him and not when he felt his heart pour so many emotions into the way he had made love to you. He hoped that when you woke up or in the future he could share more moments like this with you, moments where he could lay down beside you and be there for you whenever you had a nightmare. There was so much more he wanted to show you, so many feelings he still had to tell you without saying a word but you need to sleep.

Simon would always carry some guilt inside of him for what happened to you, but knowing that you never blamed him helped him move on from a lot of the self hatred he had towards himself. If you didn’t blame him, then maybe it was okay if he didn’t blame himself.

He dared to place a hand on your cheek, loving the way that your skin felt against his before he placed one last kiss to your forehead.

He let his eyes flutter shut as he listened to your soft breathing, something that he could always fall asleep to but never really had a chance to until now and maybe in the future if you kept him around.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t or not.

Simon would always be there to protect you.

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