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mrvlbimbo · 1 year

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I don’t think y’all understand how stressed I am about posting part 2 of this bc part 1 is genuinely my favorite thing I’ve ever written and I don’t feel like I can recreate that

Lust at first sight, or whatever they call it these days

a/n: heheh finally throwing my hat into the ring of Ghost fanfics, wish me luck!

content: Angst, sexual tension (like lots of it), male masturbation, emotional baggage, fake relationship (kinda), forced proximity, coworkers to lovers, so so much crying, happy ending!

7.7k words

ALSO my requests are SO TOTALLY open for Ghost requests If y'all have any of those for me (PLEASE IM BEGGING)

The first time he met her, Ghost thought he was dreaming or maybe that he had died and gone to heaven. Because she looked like an angel and for some reason she was standing right in front of him in one of the least hospitable places he could imagine.

She looked entirely out of her element, a head shorter than most of the men surrounding her and a small gentle grin gracing her face. She had a young look about her, probably mid 20s based on the roundness of her face. The first thing he noticed about her was how she made him feel, an instant wave of anxiety crept over him. She shouldn't be here, he thought.

She was notably devoid of the hard lines of muscle he would expect for someone in their line of work. She was all gentle curves laid over a small body negligently lacking strength. She looked soft, he wanted to see if she was.

He was almost shocked by how much he wanted her, not having felt so strongly in as long as he could remember. It was as if he was pulled by a magnet, he started walking over to her desk. He was of course outpaced by another member of his team, John MacTavish aka Soap, who had already arrived next to her with a larger than life grin on his face.

Jealousy burned under his skin when he saw her giggle at one of his squad member’s jokes.

He moved quickly and silently, standing beside the two of them before they even saw him. “Who is this?” he grumbled, coming off more aggressive than he would have liked to. He winced when her lovely smile turned down into a confused pout as she turned her attention to him.

“Intelligence,” she answered quickly, looking down at the ground instead of meeting his intense stare. He was used to it, the mask made only his intense eyes visible. Most people tried to avoid eye contact with him when they could.

“We can always use more of that.” He tried to elicit a laugh from her like Soap had managed to but he only came up with an awkward chuckle, it was an angelic sound nonetheless. No one else seemed to notice it, but the way he stuck his arm out to shake her hand felt fumbling and unnatural.

He took her small warm hand into his own gloved one, just barely able to feel the heat emanating from her touch. Against his better judgment, he ached to feel her soft skin against his. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

He cursed himself for the way he all but shivered when she addressed him with such timid respect. She wasn’t quite shy, just a bit new to things. Her eyes were wide, darting around to take in the new atmosphere.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to linger by her desk all day, coming up with excuse after excuse to keep himself in her company or if he wanted to all but sprint out of there and put as much space between them as possible so he could maybe get his breathing and heart rate back to normal.

When he got back to his bunk that night he was deathly quiet as he furiously shucked his pants and boxers down so he could finally pay some attention to his aching hard cock. He felt only the slightest tinge of guilt as he slowly stroked himself to the thought of her soft smile and how her laugh sounded.

He also thought of less innocent things, like how it would feel to press himself into every inch of her soft body. He imagined it was her much smaller hands gliding up and down his length, he knew they’d barely wrap around the girth of him and he shuddered and came at the thought.

That wasn't the last time he touched himself to the thought of her, it was just the first of many times. By the time he saw her again, it was almost a nightly occurrence. Seeing her in person was so different than the fleeting glimpses he saw of her in his mind, and so much better. Or worse, depending how you look at it.

Because he was down bad, and it was painfully obvious. She made him stutter, like actually stutter. His first embarrassing misstep was on comms for the whole team to hear.

“Ghost, is the room clear?” her voice was still soft over the garbled mess that was the comm system. He liked the way she said his name, even if it wasn’t his real name. He liked to imagine what she would sound like saying his real name, maybe in a different context.

“A-affirmative.” The room was clear, there was no doubt about it. He was just caught off guard by thoughts of her and it made him falter, something that Soap probably wouldn't let him forget until the end of time.

“What was that, sir?” He wanted to scream in frustration, his mistake being called out so boldly. But he couldn't seem to be even the slightest bit mad at her, she didn't mean anything by it, she was just trying to do her job. Such a good girl, he thought.

“Affirmative,” he repeated, hanging his head in shame even though there was no one else in the room to see him.

“He's blushing under that mask right now. I just know it.” Soap quipped, making the most of the situation for his own comedic purposes. If he knew the full extent of Ghost’s little crush, he would lay into him even harder.

He avoided conversation on the way back and all the way into the briefing room, he wasn't in the mood. Not that he ever really was in the mood.

She sat next to him during the debriefing, her knee accidentally sliding against his on more than one occasion made his breath catch in his chest everytime. She was wearing a gray skirt that rode up to expose all the way to the very tops of her thighs and a low cut pink blouse, it was like she was torturing him with the broad stretch of skin she was showing. His fingers splayed over his own thigh twitched with the urge to reach for her, place his large palm over the expanse of her squished together thighs and maybe even between them-

He stopped that thought before it could get away from him. Or more accurately he was pulled back to reality by a finger gently tapping on the back of his gloved hand. Out of instinct, he grabbed the hand, turning with a glare to the person beside him until he remembered it was her.

Her wrist lay limp in his hand, glossy lips hung open gaping at him as she waited for him to say something. Her eyes were wide like a deer in the headlights. He glanced at the contours of her hand, soft delicate fingers tipped with a jelly pink colored manicure.

“Sorry,” she all but whimpered, cringing away from his deadly stare. “Uh. Meetings over, by the way.” She offered a weak, unsure smile. He wasn't satisfied, it had been weeks since the first time he saw her and he was determined to see her real smile again. He needed it.

“Thanks.” He searched for something clever to say, something that would make her smile or maybe even laugh if he was lucky. “Your uh…nails are nice.”

“Oh yeah?” she giggled, her manicured finger tracing the bumps of his knuckles over the fabric of his thick gloves. Still, just like the first time she touched him, he could feel the warmth of her through the layers and it was intoxicating.

And just like that he was hard. She barely touched him and he was itching to get out of his pants. He needed to get under control, like now. But then her hand trailed its way up his arm and he about jumped five feet in the air. “You’re so tense, sugar.”

The name came out of her mouth so naturally that he assumed she used it with everyone. That forethought didn't help his body’s reaction to her, cock twitching at the pet name. He felt like a teenager, worse he felt like a virgin.

“Comes with the job,” he grumbled. That was half true, his job did cause tension but her sweet vanilla perfume pouring into his senses also caused tension. Of a different sort, a much more pressing sort.

“Oh you poor thing. I bet it's so stressful,” she cooed. If it was anyone else he would assume he was being mocked, but not her. She was genuine, wordlessly standing up and moving behind him. Her nimble fingers worked into the sore muscles of his shoulders. He just about melted right then and there.

“OooOh.” He tried to cover up the obvious moan as a sound of surprise but it was suspicious at best. She seemed understanding even if she noticed. “You don't have to.”

“Let me take care of my boys, yeah?” she lowered her voice, practically whispering in his ear as her thumb rubbed absentmindedly at the exposed skin at the bottom of his neck. He liked the idea of being her boy a lot, he didn't like the idea of being ‘one of her boys’ quite as much.

“You do this for all the guys on the team?” he asked with just a bit too much sincerity for it to be a joke anymore. He felt weird and gross about it, but he didn't want her doing this with any of the other guys. Especially if they would have the same reaction he was having now. Come to think of it, he doesn't like the idea of anyone thinking of her the way he does. Mostly because the way he thinks about her is downright perverted.

“If they need it. And you certainly do.” If he didn't know any better he’d think she was flirting with him. But he does know better. He knows enough about her to know she's just nice. She's just nice and kind and gentle and sweet and caring and pretty and-

He needed to stop. Like he really needed to stop. He was close to cumming in his pants from the gentle kneading of her fingers and her soft humming.

Maybe it was a curse, maybe it was a blessing. Or a little bit of both, but these after-mission massages became a schedule for them. He’d sit there, his shoulder’s ‘temptingly tense’ as she would always say. Once everyone else excused themselves she stood behind him and talked to him about his day while easing the knots out of his rippling muscles.

He got used to her touching him. Somewhat. After a while in their routine he was able to be in the same room as her without popping a boner, so that had to be some type of improvement.

Things were going well.

Until things went to shit.

The team was sitting around a table, screens in the room were lit with sprawling words detailing the mission. “You’re going deep cover. For a while,” Price announced, no use in beating around the bush. There had been a data leak and they were all compromised, they needed to disappear for a while. Live as civilians until things die down, who knows how long that could be.

Ghost just grumbled, per usual, sneaking a glance to the side to see how a certain someone was taking the news.

She was not taking it well.

His heart tensed when salty tears started to bead in her eyes and roll down her round cheeks. Despite the way her precious little face scrunched up in pain, he couldn't help thinking the slight blush dusting her face was just angelic.

The men in the room started to vacate, moving outside to discuss the terms of their new identities. Ghost stayed, he had to. He couldn't just leave her like this. He stood abruptly, pulling her out of her seat and into his arms the best he could.

It wasn't an embrace so much as he was holding her out in front of him like a ragdoll. She seemed comforted by it nonetheless.

Her fingers were limply tangled in the fabric of his sleeves, tugging at them frantically as she sobbed. He thinks it's probably ill advised for her to trust him enough to break down in front of him like this, but that doesn't matter because she trusts him.

“What's wrong?” he asked as gently as he could, which was still firm and commanding.

“I'm scared,” she whimpered, head dropping forward and just barely brushing his chest through his uniform. He fought the urge to wrap himself around her, crushing her to his chest fiercely, and never let her go. Sobs wracked her frame but his strong arms held her steady.

“You trust me?” somewhere in the blur of things he had taken his gloves off, bare hands coming up to cradle her jaw and tilt her head up to look at him. He could feel the way her body gave into his manhandling, muscles untensing so he could move her as he pleased.

“Yes sir.” She nodded as much as she could with his firm grip on her chin. Big doe eyes peering up into his, wet with tears and shiny in a way he couldn't begin to describe.

“Good girl,” he practically purred, fighting every urge to lean down just a bit and press his lips to her forehead. If he wasn't wearing a mask perhaps he would have. But he thinks if he kissed her forehead he would kiss her cheek next and before he knew it he’d be entrapped by her soft lips. “Stay here. I’ll figure it out,” he whispered.

He practically stomped out of the room, charging over to the group of men to give them a piece of his mind. “Look, Price. I know what we all signed up for, but you’ve seen her. You can't just send her out there alone, what if they find her?” He pleaded, thinking of her all on her own in danger made his heart squeeze in his chest.

“Well good thing she won't be alone. You’re going undercover together,” the other man corrected quickly.

Ghost freezed up at that realization. Sure, he knew she’d be safest with him but she’d also be a distraction. He was barely functioning around her as it was, seeing her briefly after missions. He didn't think he’d be able to handle living with her for one day.

Anything was better than her being alone. If he had to suffer the unrelenting (onesided) sexual tension for the rest of his life, that would be ok as long as she was safe.

--------------

Things moved fast after that, as soon as they were briefed on their new identities there were planes ready to take them away. There wasn't time to pack anything but the clothes on their back, hastily getting out of town before things went to shit.

The next time she saw him he was in civilian clothes, a stark contrast to how she usually saw him. Heavily armed and covered head to toe. He looked different, but it was undeniably him. She could tell by the way he stood.

He was tall, she already knew that. No amount of tactical gear could hide his hulking frame. But somehow the lack of equipment made him look bigger if that was possible, the natural muscle of him finally able to show through the shirt he had tight over his broad chest.

He was handsome too, she hadn’t expected that. She expected his face to be like everything about him, quiet and plain, a bit awkward if she was being honest. He was anything but plain, the strong contours of his jaw and cheeks were something she wanted to examine further. She would have plenty of time for that in the coming months.

She was quieter than usual, that was the first thing he noticed. She seemed timid, smaller if that was possible. She was scared, that much was obvious.

All he could offer her was slipping her hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze that brought a small but sincere smile to her face. He wanted to kiss the worry lines off her pouting face, soothe her furrowed brow, and bring back her bubbly grin. But he would settle for a weak smile if it meant she was feeling just a little bit better.

The house was fully stocked with anything they would need, clothes picked out meticulously to fit their new identities and a fridge full of food that needed to be restocked about once or twice a month. Only one bedroom was fit to live in, they were meant to be a married couple after all.

When they first arrived there was a long stretch of time where they sat at the kitchen table, staring across at each other in disbelief. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, curling in on herself, shrinking away from the man across from her.

“Come ‘ere,” he grumbled, not moving from his seat. She stood hesitantly and walked over to him. “We’re gonna be ok.” He took her hands in his and she visibly softened.

Before they left, they had changed into clothes that suited their new identity. For her this meant a delicate sundress, the flowy material wasn’t even halfway down to her knees, it made him sick to think any other man got to see this much of her.

Her standing barefoot in the kitchen of their new home, staring down at him with nothing but trust was a sight to behold. He almost forgot why they were here in the first place. He had half the mind to grab her by the hips and hoist her up onto the counter, spend the day between her supple thighs. He might as well, it's not like they had much else to do.

Her voice shook him out of his fantasy and back into reality. “What do you want for dinner?” she asked.

“Anything is fine.” He nodded, trying with great difficulty to soften his features.

“What do you want?” she repeated, a gentle hand coming out to caress his face without thinking. She was touchy, even more so now that they knew each other better. He wasn't sure if he liked it, he wasn't sure if he was allowed to.

You, he thought. Not able to put it into words despite how much he desperately did want her. Another person hadn’t touched his face in god knows how long. As for the last time someone touched him this delicately, he didn't think anyone ever had.

He shifted away from her touch, grumbling something noncommittal. She sighed and sulked over to the fridge, picking through the contents unenthusiastically to find something to eat. “Does lasagna sound good?” she spoke up after a while, a hopeful look in her eyes as she looked to him for an answer.

She looked so good like that, so passive and willing. He could tell, by the way she hung off his every word that she was waiting for his approval. He gritted his teeth, almost grinning if that was even possible. “That's fine,” he grunted, standing up from his seat abruptly and leaving to unpack his few items into an empty room.

He sat down on the carpet floor, staring ahead at the wall and cursing himself for being such an idiot. Sure, he didn't need to get too close to her. But that didn't mean he had to be an asshole. The way her lips dropped into a pitiful little frown when he rebuffed her affection made him sick to his stomach.

--------------

He didn't sleep with her, not that she expected him to. She wasn't sure if he ever slept. Seeing as he was already waiting in the kitchen when she woke, she didn't think that he had caught a wink of sleep.

He had never seen her in this state of undress, soft cotton shorts and a thin tank top were the only clothing gracing her frame. Her face was soft with sleep, puffy and slightly flushed. She smiled gently, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

Of course that was the first thing she asked, always wanting to take care of him. Her sweet morning voice just about knocked him over. If he closed his eyes he could imagine how he would like this morning to go.

He would have a cup of coffee ready for her when she woke. He would know just how she liked it and she would pick it up with a content sigh, alerting him of her presence. He would greet her with a soft grunt, hard at work in front of the stove making them pancakes.

Then she would wrap herself around his waist, her arms just barely able to circle the thick width of him. She’d be warm and soft, gently pressing against his back, swaying to music she was humming and mumbling sweetly into the fabric of the shirt stretched over his shoulders.

“Fine.” He finally answered her. He was lying. He hadn't slept.

She shuffled around the kitchen, barely brushing by him in the small space he all but dominated. Before he had anything to say about it, she was putting a plate of french toast in his hands and ushering him over to the table.

“How do you take your tea?” she mumbled through a mouthful of dry cereal, still padding around the kitchen sleepily.

“Coffee,” he corrected, not meaning to be stern with her.

“Hm. ok.” She hummed in recognition, taking quick note of that and starting the coffee maker for him. He didn't say how he took it but she assumed black with no sugars, and she would be right about that.

--------------

After a few weeks he realized the only thing that was going to make the monotony of suburban living tolerable is the fact that she was there playing housewife for him.

Their days dragged on, pacing around the house and keeping to themselves. He couldn't help but think things would be a lot less dreary if he just bit the bullet and accepted her companionship.

She had plenty of hobbies to keep her busy. His only hobby was watching her.

For a while he was content to be a ‘ghost’ in his own home so to speak. She didn't see him unless he wanted to be seen, which wasn’t often. She was lucky if he showed up for dinner because the rest of the day he was nowhere to be found.

She had taken to gardening, their yard was becoming an oasis of sorts. Rich shrubs circled in walkways around a stone lined koi pond in the back. The plot in front of the house was lined with perfectly trimmed roses, the grass a serene shade of green. Slightly overgrown due to the lawn mower’s lack of use as of late.

He watched her perfect lawn sullied by the overgrowth of grass, grimacing slightly as he watched her try and fail to start the lawnmower a few too many times to be a little slip up. She didn't have any clue how to use it, that much was clear.

He huffed, creeping out of his room for the first time in a while to assist her in the front yard. When he swung the door open he was met with her standing face to face with him. Or more like face to chest because she was about a foot shorter than him.

She scrambled to get out of his way, standing in quiet interest on the porch as he took a few long strides into the front yard.

The sizable lawnmower looks like a toy next to him. He starts it easily, one pull of the starter chord and the machine is roaring to life. She holds back a pleasured sigh at the way his muscles ripple as he maneuvers the lawnmower about the patch of grass.

Not being of any use to him just watching, she decides to head to the kitchen and grab him a glass of lemonade. When she returns he’s decided to strip off his shirt to maybe keep the spring heat at bay.

His torso is littered with scars and tattoos, body perfectly toned as she had come to expect. She resented his large biceps, embarrassed that she couldn't even begin to do the tasks he made look so easy. Luckily he was there to do them for her.

The unbearable heat was a double edged sword as far as he was concerned. On one hand, it was torture. On the other hand, the heat made for a lovely sight when it came to his female companion.

Barely there sundresses were the majority of her wardrobe. Exposing the soft plush of her thighs and the swell of her chest. She looked flushed constantly, hair mussed from humidity. When he looked at her like that, he couldn’t help but think she looked like she had just been thoroughly fucked.

“Are you thirsty, honey?” she shouted from the porch, distracting him from his fantasy, much to his chagrin.

He smiled at the sweet nickname, knowing it wasn’t something anyone else would dare call him. “Yes ma’am.”

She bounded up to him, a girlish smile on her face. She wore an air of proudness to her when he grumbled appreciatively at the glass she handed him.

He didn't miss the way her lips fell open, jaw slack as she examined his figure with intrigue. He was already flushed from the sun, or else he would have been visibly blushing. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, wide doe eyes blinking furiously as she tried to make sense of how large he is. It was adorable, the way she looked at his form in awe made him want to show her just what his large frame could do when given her compliance and an uninterrupted night in bed.

As the silence started to become awkward he finally found something to say but he was interrupted by an unknown voice. “Hey neighbors.”

He turned a scowl to the man on the other side of the fence, not offering him any greeting in reply. He continued nonetheless “I’m Scott, noticed you guys moving in a couple weeks ago, just wanted to say hi.”

She smiled wide, bouncing over to the fence to greet him, Ghost followed behind somberly. “Hi, Scott. It’s so nice to finally meet some of the neighbors. Nice place you’ve got, I love the garden” She fiddled with her wedding ring as she introduced herself and her ‘husband’

“You’re gonna love the neighborhood, it's a great place for kids if you’re planning on having any.” The man rambled, quite obviously trying to get a read on the couple.

Ghost had been silent up until now, looming behind his partner and staring down the man in front of him in a way that couldn't be more intimidating if he tried. “We’re tryin’ real hard, isn't that right babydoll?” He teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squishing her against his sweaty chest.

“Babe!” she giggled, slapping her hand against his bicep until he loosened his hold on her, opting instead to keep a firm hand on the small of her back. He was shocked at how real it felt, how easily they fell into the role of a newlywed couple. It was nice to pretend, if only for a second.

Scott gave a sour look at the joke that she didn't seem to notice. “Well, I just wanted to invite you two. I’m having a pool party with the whole neighborhood next week if you want to come.”

“We’d love to!”

“We’ll see.”

They spoke at the same time, conflicting answers.

--------------

He feels like THE man strolling down the street with her at his side. Every man that passes them is staring at her soft thighs and wishing they could have a taste of her. He knows because it's the same thing he wishes for. But at least he gets to entwine his hand with hers as they walk to the grocery store, her small delicate fingers dwarfed by his large thick ones.

He didn't really need to accompany her to the grocery store. As far as anyone knew they were perfectly safe in their new location, no reason to be on alert. But she didn't feel that way, lingering around him for the past few days and repeating something along the lines of ‘I really need to get groceries one of these days.’

If he was a bit smarter maybe he would notice she was trying to get him to come with her.

Finally, the last straw was when he ran out of cereal. He grumbled something incoherent, throwing on a light jacket to combat the fall air and hurrying out the door with her hot on his heels. “Grocery day?” she questioned, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“Mhm,” he hummed, slowing his pace just a little. He was just about to tell her he could get the groceries alone, like he did most of the time, when she took his hand in hers. It made him flinch, breath taken from his lungs by the warm weight of her in his hand.

“Well, let's get going!” her voice was chipper, seemingly ecstatic at the promise of simply going to the grocery store.

She meandered about the store, her eyebrows crinkling in concern as she inspected the products. He liked to imagine for a second that this was real, that he was a simple man with a simple domestic life and he was shopping for groceries with his wife.

If any of this was real he would get real close behind her and reach up to grab something off the top shelf, one hand on her hip to pull her against his chest. He’d press the bulge in his jeans against her ass and groan in her ear. “Feel that, babydoll?” He’d ask rhetorically.

“Mhm yeah,” she’d giggle, arching back to just barely grind against him. He had no reason to believe it was true but he liked to imagine her as the teasing type, sending him flirting glances across the length of a grocery aisle, just begging him to take her right there. Knowing he would have to wait until he got home.

But it wasn't real, so he just watched her slip a pair of glasses out of her purse and glare at a box of cereal accusingly. He took a step forward, effectively pinning her against the shelves of food. He figured he was looking down at her a bit too intensely because he doesn't miss the way she shrinks under his gaze. “What’re ya lookin at, angel?” he asked, gently prying the box from her grasp.

“Just checking the sugar content. You eat this cereal every morning, and you already have high blood sugar. It's just something to be aware of,” she answered simply, reaching past him to place the box in their cart.

“How?” He shook his head, confusion lining his face. What excuse did she have to be privy to his medical history. He felt distrust creep into the corner of his mind, despite himself he glared at her.

“I read your file.” He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. She was the team’s analyst, of course she knew what was hiding on the inside of the heavily redacted stack of papers that told the story of his life.

But surely, she hadn’t paid that much attention to them. “You’re bluffing,” he grumbled, starting to turn away but her hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

She had to get on her tippy toes to speak to him, fingers curling into the shoulders of his shirt to steady herself. “Maybe I am, Simon Riley,” She whispered against the skin of his neck right below his ear. He felt a shiver run through his whole body.

She pulled back with a coy giggle, ignoring the dropped jaw expression on his face for the remainder of their trip. The only acknowledgement she made of him was a brief blushing ‘thank you’ when he grabbed a month's worth of groceries like they were air and toted them all the way back to the house.

He went home that night and pumped his cock raw to the memory of her saying his name. His hand was shoved in his mouth to muffle the animalistic groans that were slipping from his lips. His teeth broke skin from how hard he had to bite down.

The next morning when she asked why there was a bandage on his hand he said he got burnt on the stove. Without thinking twice, she took his hand and gave the bandage a gentle kiss. His

heart fluttered, he felt sick.

--------------

Holidays were weird. They had moved in during the end of the spring and by now the year was coming to a close, which meant it was time for thanksgiving and christmas.

She looked so in her element, prancing around the kitchen with soft holiday music playing from the speakers. Her hair was up and she wore an apron that probably had some corny joke on it. He felt like his heart grew six sizes when he saw the proud smile on her face when she finally set it all up.

The table was set decadently. He remembers sitting in the dining room while she flipped through a home catalog until she found something of interest. “Oh Simon, look!” she squealed, jumping up from her place on the couch to bring him the magazine. She pointed one sparkling red nail at the dining room set displayed on the page and whined until he agreed to buy it.

He never should have doubted her because it looked perfect. She had set the table with every side and entree he could have dreamed up, all homemade for him by his wife. Well, not really his wife. But he sure felt like it sometimes.

Then she sat him down and poured his drink and served his plate, her fingers twitching by her sides when she was done because she clearly wanted to reach out and touch him. Maybe take one of his hands in hers or brush her thumb over his cheek. She hadn't touched anyone in so long, she was starting to forget what real warmth felt like.

“Soooo, what are you thankful for?” she jested, trying to get him to show any emotion other than the utter disinterest she usually was able to find on his face.

“Jackshit,” he rumbled, trying to get a rise out of her. Or atleast a scoff of agreement. Instead she glared at him. As much as she could at least, he didn't think her face was capable of an unpleasant expression.

She looked over the large table of food and then back at him again, deep disappointment showing in her face even if she had tried to hide it. She spent hours in the kitchen toiling away at this meal, no one had ever done something like that for him. For me, he thought. Oh shit, she did this for me. “Oh- I didn't mean,” he started, but she quickly cut him off.

The corners of her eyes started to well with tears and she stood. “No! It's ok, eat. I’ll be back in one second.” She rushed to the bathroom, frantic breaths ripping through her lungs until she reached the bathroom and slammed the door, sliding to the floor once she was alone.

He really wanted to spend the holidays together. Not just in the same house, but really together. Like a regular couple. He ached to hold her from behind while she fussed over the vegetables on the stove, leaning over to kiss her forehead intermittently and soak in the little giggle she would let out at his random act of affection. As far as he was concerned the chance of all of that was slim to none, so he pushed her away like always.

He ate silently, waiting for her to return. When she didn't come back in the next 30 minutes he decided he had waited long enough. He couldn't just sit there and feel sorry for himself, he needed to clear the air. And by clearing the air, he actually meant go on a walk to get out of the house for a while so the air could clear itself.

Maybe by the time he got back he’d be able to act like a normal person around her, but he seriously doubted it.

About two miles down the road, he heard a soft sound, a distressed whine from some sort of animal. Against his better judgment, he followed after the sound. The loud mewls were easy to track, leading him right to the culprit. It was a kitten. A tiny ball of fur, no bigger than his fist. He was about to leave to go home and then he remembered what was waiting for him there and he really wasn't in the mood for conflict at the moment.

So instead he sat down, laying his palm out for the small cat to climb onto it and scooping the animal up into his lap. “I bet everyone likes you, little guy,” he grumbled, scratching the cat behind the ear with his other free hand.

For some reason the cat reminded him of her. Maybe because it was small and cute and frightened and he didn't have the slightest clue how to care for it but for some reason he desperately wanted to.

When he got home she was waiting on the porch, jumping up from her seat when she saw him coming down the road. They met halfway down the driveway, now that he was closer he could see she was burning with rage.

He had never seen her mad before, it was like a force of nature. Her eyes were fiery, unrelenting spite flowing off of her in waves. There were tears rolling down her cheeks, her grief only made her fury hit that much harder.

She didn't yell. He didn't think he had ever heard her yell and he wasn't going to start today. “I thought you were dead. I thought they got you and they were coming for me next.” Despite the tears falling down her face her voice was stern, deathly so.

“I got you a cat.” He stuck his arm out, a small animal on display for her. He settled his jaw into what could have been considered a smile if she was being generous. And with him it seemed like she always was.

“Thanks,” she sighed, shoulders drooping now that the adrenaline of anger was gone from her. She cradled the small cat against her chest, giving him a look of understanding. She wasn’t mad, she didn't know what was going on with him but she knew he was doing his best.

When they got back inside, it was deathly quiet. The only remnants of the festive air from earlier was the faint scent of apple pie lingering. She sat on the couch, curled into a sad lump under a fluffy throw blanket she had purchased a couple weeks back. She cradled the small animal like it was her only lifeline, tears still falling down her face.

He stalked over to her quietly, only alerting her to his presence when he sat down and pulled her huddled form into his lap. One of her hands tangled in the fabric of his sweater, gripping him like he’d evaporate if she let go. “I’m sorry,” he grumbled, awkwardly patting down her ruffled hair as she cried into his chest.

--------------

Eventually they stopped keeping track of the days, they were friendly with their neighbors but they kept to themselves mostly. The freedom of having nothing to do soon became suffocating. He thought about settling into a schedule, what it would be like if he stopped waiting for the call for him to come back. What if he just let himself live the rest of his life here in hiding with his girl.

It was convenient if nothing else, there's no way she would have chosen him otherwise.

He could tell it was taking a toll on her too, the naive optimism he used to see in her eyes was gone. She always seemed tired, pouting like a kicked puppy. She looked pathetic, he wanted to make everything better for her but he didn't have any idea how to.

“Simon, can I talk to you?” She had come into his room that evening, dressed to leave the house. He was instantly on edge because they didn't have a grocery trip planned for a while so where would she be going.

“What?” He didn't mean to snap, he felt something sting inside of him when she flinched away from his sharp tone.

“Is this forever?” she asked, obviously referring to them being stuck in deep cover limbo. The bags under her eyes were pronounced, her hands shook with stress. She looked worse for wear, still gorgeous as ever in his eyes. But she was in pain, and it hurt him as well.

“Pretty sure.” He wasn’t going to lie to her. As much as he wanted to promise her that things would go back to normal soon he knew it wasn’t true. They were going to be stuck in this purgatory in the form of a safe-house for the rest of their miserable lives.

“Fuck-” A broken sob fell from her lips, padding over to the cot he had settled in the corner and slumping down into the firm pillows.

He started to try and calm her but it was a lost cause. “It’s ok-”

He was interrupted by her shrill screech, he flinched at the pained tone. “It's not ok. It's not! I don't want to be alone forever!” Her voice cracked when she raised it above a quiet whine, pleading with him desperately to do anything that would make things better.

“I’m here,” he grumbled under his breath, below a whisper. He didn't think there would be a chance of her hearing him.

“Then be here. I’m so lonely, it's killing me.” She was louder than normal, still not quite yelling but her vocal chords were strained, not worn in with harsh shouts like his were. She was in uncharted territory.

“What can I do?” he pleaded, voice pitching up a bit despite himself.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m sorry, I’ll go.” She stood abruptly, trying to hold back tears.

“Stay,” he barked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to stand between his parted legs. His hands stayed on her hips, holding her there so she had no hope of escaping. “Tell me what you need.”

He could feel his already weakened walls breaking down. “This is our life now. Try living it with me, yeah?” she offered, shaking hands reaching down to cup his face. He couldn't bear to look at her like this, broken and defeated. She was begging him to care for her just a little bit, and he almost laughed at the irony of it because he cared for her more than he had ever cared for anything in his life.

Without thinking, he pulled her closer. His hands on her hips winding around to clutch the small of her back, tugging her chest to chest with him. Their foreheads are pressed together, noses and lips brushing. “Please,” she whimpered.

He could see what she needed. He had been blind to it for so long but it was starting to make sense. The poor thing was aching for him, she probably hadn’t been properly cared for since far before they even went undercover. It’s like the whole scenario was set up to tease her, living in close quarters with a handsome hulking mass of a man who wouldn't dare touch her. She needed him badly, she was finally too desperate to be coy.

Her breathing hitched delicately and that was all the encouragement he needed to press their lips together. She was just as soft as he had imagined, her lips perfectly plush under his own. As soon as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she let out a series of gasps and sighs that threatened to make him cry from arousal.

She was so receptive, back arching to press farther into his chest. Her fingers tangled in his hair and her nails scraped against his scalp, giving a sharp tug to his hair and whining when he bit her lip as a reply.

“Yeah? That's it?” he breathes out against her lips. He can feel the friction of her tits rubbing against him through her thin tank top from the way her chest is heaving. He knows he should shut things down for the night, seeing as things are getting pretty heated pretty quickly. The selfish part of his brain wants to take her right there, fuck her through the late hours of the night and into the morning but he desperately tries to ignore that urge.

They’re engaged in somewhat of a staring contest, both of them ready to lean back into the kiss but waiting for the other to make the first move. He never thought he’d be this close to examine her face like this, her eyes are a darkened color pupils wide from arousal. Her lips are turned up into a giddy smile, unable to hide her joy.

He's pulled away from his thoughts when he finally hears something from her, it's a light giggle. Airy and sweet, he thinks that sound must be his own personal heroine because he would do anything to hear it again.

Her face is alight with a dreamy grin, flush growing rampant over her the apples of her cheeks. “I feel silly asking, but would you stay in my room tonight?”

#I’m working on it thou #it’ll probably be posted by the end of break #fingers crossed

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