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greenglowinspooks · 6 months

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(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Prologue)

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Tw: Danny is having a Certified Bad Time™️, dissociation, vivisection mention, suicidal thoughts (kinda?), basically just heavy angst for now

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

Note: you don’t need to read this chapter to understand the rest of the story, it’s mostly just to explore Danny’s headspace when he first escapes the GiW

(Pt. 1)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

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Danny rocked back and forth, trying to soothe himself as the truck he was in continued to speed along.

It had been an eternity since he was captured by the GiW. He didn’t know why they were moving him to a new base after all this time, but he knew it wasn’t a good thing.

Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel afraid.

He couldn’t feel much of anything these days. The GiW had a routine and they stuck to it religiously, and that routine had sucked every bit of Danny’s soul out of him.

Something churned in his chest regardless. Anticipation? Excitement, maybe?

Perhaps they were finally going to let Danny fade. Was that a bad thing? Danny couldn’t decide if it was or not.

He wasn’t scared of fading. It seemed inevitable, especially with how he was treated on the daily. He would stop hurting if he faded.

Still, he’d like to see Jazz and Tucker and Sam at least one more time before he does. That would be nice.

The truck continues forward, unmoved by Danny’s thoughts.

The sound is nice, Danny thinks.

The hum of the engine, the crackling of pebbles being crushed under the tires, the electrical buzz of the anti-ghost handcuffs and shield keeping him trapped.

The only sound Danny’s heard the last few years has been the clatter of metal tools, the crunching of bone, the sawing and thunking and squishing of surgery, the murmur of voices.

It’s nice to hear something new, Danny thinks.

Strange, but nice.

The truck stops again. Another red light, probably. Danny continues rocking back and forth, back and forth, like the ticking of a clock.

Seconds pass. Second after second after second.

Danny hears shouting now.

Gunshots crack outside, and Danny sees holes appear in the side of the truck.

That’s definitely new.

Chaos is erupting outside. There’s a lot of screaming, and frantic footsteps, and cars zooming away.

The driver door slams open and shut. The truck speeds off, tires screaming as the driver swerves erratically.

Danny is thrown back and forth in the back of the truck, bumping up against the many weapons and other miscellaneous inventions stored alongside him. Pain blooms in his head and chest, an agonizing heat lining his surgical wounds. Danny licks his lips underneath his muzzle. It would be nice if the driver was a bit better at their job, he thinks.

The truck continues careening wildly.

Danny counts the seconds.

Second after second after second.

After around two thousand, three hundred and seventy four seconds, the truck comes to a stop. Danny didn’t lose count this time. He’s proud of himself.

The driver door opens and closes yet again. There’s chatter outside, excitement clear in the voices that Danny hears. There’s lots of talk of “congratulations,” and “lucky that the Bat didn’t follow you here.”

Then, the back of the truck is opened. Danny hears noises of confusion and shock. He turns his head, looking to see what’s happened.

There’s several men at the door of the truck. They’re wearing black tuxedo suits—Sam was right, black really is such a pretty color—and they’re staring at him.

They begin talking among themselves. Something about them not knowing about a kid, and not knowing what to tell the boss. It’s confusing to him. It’s not what he usually hears spoken.

Then, one of them climbs up into the truck. He approaches Danny slowly, speaking in a calm voice. He’s asking Danny if he can stand, he realizes, asking him if he knows why he’s in the truck.

Danny just stares at the silver glint of the gun at the man’s side.

It’s a nice one, he thinks. Semi-automatic, with a few modifications to make the reloads smoother and the gunshots quieter. His fingers twitch. He’d like to poke at it a little, see if he could improve it any.

The man notices where he’s staring and curses. He takes the gun and lowers it to the floor. Danny just continues to stare.

Silver is an ugly color, he thinks. He much prefers black.

Silver is the color of stainless steel, the color of lab and surgical equipment.

He doesn’t like it much.

The man reaches out a hand and grabs Danny’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

After a moment, he sighs, and hoists Danny up, carrying him effortlessly. He hands him to one of the men outside of the truck, hopping down himself a moment later.

They’re warm, Danny realizes.

He curls further into the new man’s arms, closing his eyes. It’s nice, he thinks, being held like this. He hasn’t been held with such care in a long, long time.

The man sets him down on a crate.

After a moment Danny opens his eyes again, watching as the many black-suited people take things out of the truck. He counts the inventions in his head as they do so, beginning to rock again.

Then, a new man enters the room, and everyone freezes.

He’s congratulating them, asking them about their escape, and then he spots Danny.

Danny would very much like to be invisible right about now.

“Where did you get him?” He asks, tapping his umbrella against the floor.

“He was in the truck,” the man who carried him says, “we don’t know why.”

The stout man looks at him closely.

“How did you get into a government weapon shipment? Did someone put you in there?”

Danny nods his head. He tries to speak, but his voice cracks painfully underneath his muzzle.

“You- someone get that thing off his face,” he says. Several of the other men scurry off, probably looking for something that can break the muzzle, “can you speak?”

Danny shrugs. He tries to talk again, but it seems that his voice doesn’t want to cooperate with him. The only sound he can make is a painful, broken wheeze.

“Hey,” the man says, resting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “if it hurts to talk, stop trying, alright? We’re gonna get that muzzle and those cuffs off, and then we’ll figure out why you were in there. You know how to write?”

Danny nods.

“Good,” the man responds.

“You two, get something to write with,” he barks to a few of the other suited men. They, too, run off.

A few people come up, carrying a bolt cutter and a few other tools with them. They make quick work of the muzzle and handcuffs, the restraints falling to the floor with a clattering sound.

Danny looks down at his hands. They’re shaking. Slowly, slowly, he brings them up to his face. Thin fingers brush up against cracked, dry lips. He’s fascinated by the sensation.

Someone brought him a mirror, he realizes.

That can’t be right, though. The person looking back at him…isn’t him. That isn’t Danny.

That face is not his face.

Their cheeks are far too thin and sunken, their eyes dull and haunting. They’re far too old as well, they look like a young adult.

Still, they move when he moves. They stare at him with a look of fascinated horror that’s far too familiar.

He brings his hand up to his head, and they follow his movements. He trails his fingers over the stitches in his head, and they do the same.

Danny tries to speak, but is cut off by a painful cough.

One of the men brings up a pencil and notepad. Slowly, shakily, Danny writes down a question.

“What year is it?”

The man who had spoken to him earlier quirked his eyebrow up. He answers, and Danny freezes in place.

“What’s wrong?”

Danny looks down at his hands again. He looks into the mirror. The stranger staring back looks horrified. They look sad. They look…like him.

Danny lets out a mournful keening sound. He curls up into himself, covering his face with his arms. Distantly, he’s aware of someone rubbing circles into his back. He cries harder, his entire body shaking.

Three years.

It’s been three years since he was captured, three years of being cut open and sewn back together. Three years of burns and cuts and chemical damage and electrical shocks.

Three years of torture.

Danny sobs, hands gripping the thin fabric of his medical gown like a lifeline. Three years.

Danny’s being lifted up again. He wraps his arms around the person holding him and wails into their shoulder. Everything is quiet.

“I’ll deal with the kid,” the man holding him says, “the rest of you, finish unpacking the truck and dump it somewhere that the Bat won’t connect to me.”

The man brings Danny through the building, still rubbing his back comfortingly. He’s humming some song that Danny doesn’t recognize, occasionally pausing to bark orders at people.

Danny’s beginning to calm down now. He’s still shaking, but his breathing is beginning to even out.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt alive enough to cry.

He feels exhausted.

Danny tries to hold onto consciousness for as long as possible, but he’s so tired, and so sad, and he’s being held, and he’s warm, and…

Danny’s eyes flutter shut.

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#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #vengeful danny #villain danny #girl help I fucking love angst HDJFNSKFJDJFJF #literally pouring milk on Danny and throwing him against the wall to hear the thunk #he is going THROUGH it #truly rip bozo #don’t worry he becomes less scared and more neurotic and terrifying soon

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cybercl0ne · 8 months

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A Duty to Owe // Ghost x Medic!female reader // One-shot // 18+

Summary: You're reunited with Ghost after he ends up in your care.

TW: Angst at beginning, 18+, Swearing, names used: baby, good girl, love, etc., gunshot wound(s), p in v, potential impreg, unprotected sex.

You were notified of another patient in a mild condition. Abruptly the staff only door blasted open with a frantic co-worker flashing their attention in your direction.

“Y/n we need you, stat!” They yelped. You laid the freshly ground coffee on the table and sped off into the ER room, giving a reassuring nod to the frantic co-worker that sped off with you.

“What’s the status?” You demanded, getting on your gloves as you entered the room. Not yet seeing the patient before you and the group.

“Mild to critical. Tactical wounds, several.” The tech next to you added.

“Any stray bullets?” You ask pulling up your surgical mask, scrambling for the respective tools.

“One clean through, two other punctured lower arm and left abdomen.”

You finally get a clean view at your patient. It was Simon. Simon “Ghost” Riley. You knew it was bound to happen one day. The infamous “Ghost” getting hit and in need of medical help. Although he probably was defiant to the bitter end of his consciousness.

“Alright let’s get to work, I need forceps.” You claim, taking a big sigh before readying yourself.

Ghost stirred awake as you lifted his shirt to get a view at the healing process.

“Well good morn’ to you to Y/n.” He gruffly stroked out. You didn’t realize how much it spooked you to hear his voice after being in his room multiple times with dead silence.

“Like the view that much?” He teased, a small groan escaping his lips as you prodded at his wounds.

Ignoring his small antic you continue to trail your cold fingers up and down his abdomen. Ghost shivers under your cold yet slim and gentle hands. His rough, war raged hands flew to his shirt, pulling it down to “end” your little examination.

“Hey, stop being fussy. The only view I’m interested in is this bullet wound.” You counterfeit. You slapped his hand away, finally meeting face to face with him. You saw his eyes flash with fiery emotions. He always did love the attitude you struck him with.

“You did a good job doc.”

“Thanks Simon.” You slyly snuck in, smiling at him before looking back at his raw scratched up chest. He gruffed in disprovement.

“Y’know I don’t want you calling me that.” He whispered, trying to sit up straight.

“And you don’t want me to check your clearly attention needed wounds. Pick one.”

“Fucking minx..” he whispered, closing into your ear. You jumped, jumping up out of the seat that you pulled up next to him.

“Simon!” You said flushed as you readjusted yourself.

Simon just gave you a shit eating grin as his arms looped around your waist, pulling you in.

“M’ sorry, ya big baby.” He continues as you slowly fall into his arms.

“You gonna let me finish checking on my patient?” You ask condensing. You roll your eyes as you watch how ghost shrugs.

“Maybe, depends. Is it me?” He teases. He finally let’s go reluctantly as you roll your chair back to you, this time focusing on his buff arm.

“How’s Soap and the rest of the team.” You change the subject. You hadn’t seen them in forever and missed the way Końig would make jokes about your accent. And how Soap and you could stay up for hours talking about nothing.

“There fine, but now that you mention soap..” he adds.

“You should join us on base and field again.”

“Ghost you know I don’t do that anymore.” You sulk. You remember the endless amount of people you couldn’t save, the eyes you’d look into watching them fade into the other side.

“I know, just think about it. You can shoot like you got a damn head, your a fucking divine medic. And I- we need people like you on the team.” He tries to get you to look at him as he pampers you with praise.

“Ghost I’m sorry your medics are shit but that’s not my problem. It’s different when your behind the scenes, cleaning up after the bloodshed.” You whined. It’s not that you didn’t miss everyone and lost your lust for saving people live, but you didn’t think you could mentally do it anymore.

Ghost finds his hands to your waist again, knowing that normally he’d never get this close to other people. But you weren’t other people. You were special.

“It’s been three years. Three fuckin’ years since I’ve seen you Y/n. I don’t wanna have to take another bullet to see you again.” You scoffed lightly.

“Is that what you did. You risked your life to end up in here to see me?”

“No, I just requested that you work on me.” He says, closing in, wanting to giggle at your worried and pouty face.

You watched as his face fell closer to yours. You slowly felt yourself closing into him. “You know your impossible right?” You scoff, staring at his juicy lips. His mask just barely covering his nose. you went limp as Simon kissed you while laughing. You fell into the way your lips smacked so sensually against each other. He used his oversized hand to guide you onto him.

“W-wait Si, we can’t…” you whimper into his mouth. He peeked his eyes open as he ignored your pleas, watching you try to fight against him.

“Come on baby, scared someone’s gonna walk in? That never stopped you before.” You would’ve been lying if you said your heart didn’t do a somersault. You once again lost complaint and continued to kiss him while you straddled him.

“Don’t know how much I missed this, n’ you.” He added, unbuttoning your classy uniform.

You grinded into his already bulky bulge feeling the way it’s veins made themselves visible from underneath his boxers.

As sounds of you both kissing filled the room a sudden knock infiltrated the atmosphere.

Shit. You both thought at the same time as you scrambled to button your shirt back, and Simon readjusting his all to obvious hard on.

“Doctor Y/n? Are you here?” One of your intern nurses asked timidly.

“Y-yes, I’m here h-hang on a minute.” You spoke, trying to regain yourself. As you composed yourself you opened the door and talked with the nurse about diagnostics.

As she left you faced your heated attention to Simon who was impatiently waiting for your return.

“I’m asserting a week of bedrest.” You assign with your clipboard from the nurse.

“No can do sweetheart.” He shakes, clearly disapproving.

“Well it’ll have to do because I don’t want you moving out of bed Simon Riley.” You put your hands on your hips, finalizing the decision.

“You won’t be getting any action for the rest of this week and some, so get comfortable.” You say patting his leg and motioning out of the room.

“Aww, no goodnight kiss?” He teases on the way out. You calmly walk back and give him a smack on the forehead.

“Goodnight Simon.” You wave with your back turned to him. He chuckles to himself as he rubs his forehead where your touch was.

He also gently rubs his hard on that hadn’t gone away.

You fill your eyes with papers as you feel your eyes getting annoyingly droopy. A sudden knock from your office door wakes you from your doze.

“Mhm, come in.” You say, not looking at the door or the intruder. You instead focus your eyes between the computer full of assignments and papers of documents.

When you finally look up, you see Simon sitting in the chair closest to you, waiting for you to notice him.

“Thought I told you your on bedrest.” You prod, pointing at him with your inked out pen.

“Don’t listen.” He simply put it, shrugging. He stood up, rounding the desk to fit behind you.

“You need sleep darling. You're really gonna need it.” He says, kissing your temple.

You nod, deciding to listen to reason rather than fight on something you know you need.

He gives you a flick to your temple as he walks out of your office as you scowl.

“Goodnight Y/n.” He smirks.

After a long week, you found yourself boarding with Ghost onto a plane, readying yourself for the mission. You’d recognized that it had been awhile since you were out of your element, only really remembering how to shoot on a dime.

“Nervous Y/n?” Końig ask, looming in your direction while toying with his delay device.

“Well you know I haven’t been in this environment for awhile.” You scratch. He gives you a reassured smile.

“You’ll do great y/n.” Soap adds, taking no time to take up as much space next to you as possible.

“As a prize after the mission you should let me take ya’ out to eat.” He slickly adds in. Ghost shoots daggers at Soap, clearing his throat to remind him of his presence.

“Oh i'm sorry LT, did you want to say somethin’?” He flashes a grin towards Ghost. Ghost balls his hand in a fist where he sits.

“Focus on the mission Johnny.” He coldly commands.

“Just makin’ small talk LT.” he smacks his lips before turning to you asking you about a life update.

You oblige and talk with interest as ghost stares deeply at you. Almost enough to want to trade places with Soap. He watches how your eyes shine with enthusiasm to help people. But that’s just who you were. Someone who had light, and wanted to radiate it to others.

When it was time to deploy from the plane, the plane rumbled telling its passengers to jump.

You hastily double check your straps and wraps as you embarrassingly forgot how parachuting works in the last three years. You feel ghost wrap his arms around your leg, searching the work himself. He readjust some small parts, stretching and tightening your waist strap.

“So handy Ghost.” Końig says as he observes how his hands linger on your body a little too long.

“Y’know that ain’t it.” Ghost denies while you and Końig knew it was.

“Yeah it’s not like that końig.”

“You can lie to Soap guys but you can’t lie to me.” “Mexico guys.” He peeks at you two, sharing looks of clear disbelief. You both instantly remembered the steamy incident that happened between you both. You both were sure nobody had heard your pounded screams and desperate mewls but it was a lie since Końig was apparently living proof.

Końig jumps out of the plane a little after having a smirk session with you two.

“You ready?” Ghost nudges. You take a deep breath, nodding. Ghost grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him as he leaps from the still moving jet.

You land on the moist ground, your nose filling with gunpowder and tropical humidity. You pushed up with a teammate. Scoping the area for the injured and enemy.

A sudden explosion takes you by surprise as you pull your teammate who was running in that direction behind a rock. He starts stuttering, breathing heavily, and not being able to focus his eyes on you.

“I-I..h-he.” The man babbled. You slapped him out of his provocative hyperventilation.

“Focus soldier! Your ok!” You shout over the instant gunfire and explosions over the city.

Ghost pulls behind you two soon after, his gun smoking from usage.

“You guys alright?!” He shouts, you nod, focusing and drawing your gun out before shooting a guy that tried to push up to you.

“Good girl!” He praises. You take cover as you hear a sniper try to take your head, just nearly missing by a hair. You draw your walk-ie talkie to announce a sniper on building 5.

“On it!” Końig radios. You then hear a single shot and końig radio again.

“Taken care of, you should be able to push up!” Końig replies. You thank him, logging off.

You command the little team you traveled with to move up, you quickly moved with them, finding your own present in the process. You stab the intruder and move the body to make it your grounding place.

“UAV dropping!” Ghost screams over the radio motioning you and the straggler to move in toward the Churchyard. You run to the steps, seeing Soap protecting his flank as he gets stray bullets.

You cover him, taking out some of the guys that knew his location.

“Thanks Y/n!” Soap mentions to you as you push into the church. Soap follows while Ghost and the man you were with before took behind.

Another explosion landed but this time it was landing right towards the church. You heard the small screech and listened to how close it was.

“SOAP WAI-“ it was to late as your body was launched to the wall, of the courtyard. When you sat up it was all filled with smoke and you were covered in dead grass. You coughed franticly searching for something, anyone. You notice Ghost over in the small corner that he was blown to. You rush to him instantly, checking if he was stable. He chuckles and grabs your arm, telling you he’s alright as he tries to restabilize himself.

You flash your head and see Soap laying of the church steps. You rush towards him, as soon as you got to him fire started opening on you instantly. You hastily pull and lift Soap to safety inside of the confession booths. As you lay him down he smiles at you proving how he’s at least still alive.

It’s not until Ghost rounds the corner that you notice your hurt. A bullet through the abdomen, shit. You turn away from Ghost, trying to assist Soap with your opposite side.

“How bad is it doc?” Soap mumbles.

“Y-you’ll be f-fine..” you shakily breathe out. They both look at you instantly with the same face.

“You ok Lad?” Soap questions. You hide the wound, knowing that if Ghost finds out he’ll get himself killed.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You got your gun on you Johnny?” He pats his side, showing his small yet effective pistol.

“Never leave home without it.” He chuckles. You observe his leg where he was hit and see that at best it’s a minor sprain, with maybe some stray nails that stabbed his leg. You then see the giant gash that flew inside his leg. It was glass. You wanted to pull it out but instead decided against it so he doesn’t die from blood loss.

You go to grab your radio only to notice how it’s not there. Double shit. “We have to go, Soap protect yourself until we get back!” You command. He nods as ghost and you motion to walk out of the room. You fall back to your knees as the sharp and unignorable pain forced you to sit. You started huffing hard, staring at your hand that covered the wound overflow with blood.

“Shit!” Soap shouts.

Ghost turns around, noticing how you weren’t behind him.

“Fuck! Y/n!” He drops to the floor beside you, dropping his gun in the process.

Soap returns fire to the enemies pushing into the debris filled building.

“Don’t worry I can hold them off!” Soap calls, trying to calm Ghost.

“Fuck sake Y/n!” He grumbles. You uncover your hand to show the wound, you look up at him and motion for your kit.

“S…stop bleeding.” You whispered out, trying to wrap the white bandage around your waist. Ghost’s eyes shared nothing but pain for you as he scrambled to stop the bleeding. You felt your strength weakening as you fell limp in your arms, the burning halting progress.

“No,no,no. Don’t leave me Y/n! Please don’t go! Stay awake love!” He screams. With your little strength you touch his hand that rested on your stomach.

“Ghost. Grab your gun…” he shook his head, defiant till the bitter end, or what felt like the end. You fully went limp, your heavy eyes closing to gain some sort of energy.

“Bravo 07…Ghost what’s going on up there? What’s your status?” Końig calculated.

Ghost grabbed his radio, “Końig! I need medical support now!” Ghost demanded.

“Medical support on the way!” Końig radios back. His voice more frantic.

White noise filled ghost ears as he watched you and Soap getting lifted to urgent care.

Ghost was making Końig dizzy as he paced the room back and forth.

“Ghost she’ll make it. That girls tough as nails.” Końig tried to reason. Ghost was to busy ignoring Końig to think about reason, just thinking about how your limp body was straggled through the ER doors, eyes that didn’t even flutter.

“God..oh god… this is all my fault.” Ghost sighs, finally sitting in one of the chairs that made him look bigger.

“You know you can’t blame yourself.” Końig places his hand on ghost shoulder, sitting down next to him.

“No Końig, it is. I pushed her to come to this wretched mission.” Końig sat in silence as he tried to think about a common answer.

“How’s Soap?” Końig asked, trying to change the subject a little.

“He’s alright.” Ghost sighs, standing up to pace again.

Him and Końig sat in a penetrating silence.

“Y’know when she gets out of this, take her somewhere nice. Treat her to dinner. Something fun.” Końig slouches. Ghost thinks for the first time tonight. ‘Somewhere outside of the field?’ Does such a thing happen? He sat in thought, it was short lived as he knew if you didn’t make it… he couldn’t even bear to think of warm thoughts yet.

“Ghost…she’s her own person, she accepted out of free will. Remember she’s not a child.” Końig said, standing up as Ghost did.

You felt your body lifting in between limbo. It’s be light then heavy, shifting with the tide of the world. You woke up in a strange bed. It was extra strange as the bed was in the middle of a beach. You tried to remember what you were doing as you were in completely different clothes. That’s when you heard the faint sound of laughter. Simons laugh to be specific. You got up, your feet digging into the sand you walked on.

“Stabilize her! I need another set of hands stat!”

You ignore the faint ringing in your head and made your way to Simon. He was standing at the ocean's tip, letting his toes be swept in the shallow bits of the water. The sea was calm and collected as the tide shortened when getting to close to the sand.

“We need blood transfusion! Grab the syringe. She’s losing blood by the minute!”

“Simon?” You call out. Your voice echoed until it reached his ears, his doting eyes turned to you with a smile you’d only seen a number of times.

“Com’ here.” He whispered. You obliged and stood beside him, turning to face him.

“What is this place? What are we doing here?” You asked as he held your hand tightly.

“Extracting the bullet now. Keep her breathing steady!”

“Y/n. Y’know I love you very much.” Simon confessed. You continued to look at him, the waves getting stronger, roaring like your pounding heart.

“…yeah…” you answered. You finally looked forward at the beach that stood before you both.

“Can you see it, love? The sun blazes just right when you look at it here.” He claims as the crashing tides catch wilder. You try to focus on the words he’s saying but with the overwhelming sound of waves crashing and the constant lingering sound of beeping you couldn’t focus at all.

“Si..do you hear that?” You said peeking around trying to find the source of the noise. You looked over to where Simon was, just to realize he’s not there. He was no longer holding your hand, doting on you with a loving look, he was nowhere.

You fell to the ground as the beeping got harder to tune out. “S-Simon I-I’m scared.” You whispered as you curled into a ball on the sand. You felt a shelter build over you as Simon wrapped his body along yours.

“Don’t be scared, just wake up, my love.”

You looked up to see the crashing wave that was high enough to eat you whole, you watched as it swooped down to take you into its den.

You closed your eyes one last time, this time only hearing the faint sound of beeping.

“She’s alive, good job everyone.”

The tired and weary surgeon takes a step out of the Emergency Department as Ghost dashes to the door that he’d been waiting for.

“How is she? Is she ok? Is she alive?” Ghost asked so many questions that the surgeon didn’t bother trying to keep up.

“Sir she’s alive. She’s stable and alive.” The surgeon confirms. Ghost looks at Końig and his face is full of relief. He can tell that Końig didn’t want to run the risk of having to drag a mourning and guilty Ghost home.

Just as Ghost was about to rush off to find you, Soap wheeled in smiling.

“Hey guys, miss me?” He peers. Końig rushes to Soap, excited and telling him how you were ok.

“What room is she?” He asked. The surgeon blinked a couple of times before churning his throat.

“You can’t see her right now sir, I’m afraid it’s against policy-“

“Ya’ think I give a fuck about your policy? If you won’t tell me what rooms she’s in I’ll just find it myself.” Ghost threatened. When he saw that the surgeon wasn’t budging he pushed past him and went on his search to find you.

Końig and Soap lacked behind as they apologized for Ghost behavior, and trying to catch up to him as he kept speeding up.

“So I guess this means the Lad is really off limits.” Soap sulks.

“Yep, unless you want him to put you here.” Końig adds, pushing Soap down the hallway.

You stirred away, stubbornly confined in a cocoon why the tight bedsheets. You felt a numbing pain as you tried to sit up. As you did you saw a blonde fluff laying at the end of your side. Simon rested against your legs, clearly worn out and asleep. It wasn’t long as he instantly shot up at the sudden amount of movement.

“Good morning Ghost.” You smiled as you petted his fluffed hair. He looked at you in disbelief. You snickered at his reaction, Ghost reaching for water to give you.

“Y/n I thought I’d lose you.” Ghost whispered as he clasped onto your face. You smiled loosely at him as you kissed his stubble face.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Simon Riley.” You kissed again.

He laughed with guilt, but also overjoyed.

His head hung low as you still held onto his face. You lifted it up making him meet you eye to eye.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, observing how his demeanor wasn’t cold but distant.

“It’s all my fault. I made you go out there. You would have never gotten hurt if it weren’t for me!” He explained, dumping his heavy guilt on top of you.

You clicked your tongue as you melted into his face.

“Simon, it’s not your fault. I wanted to go on this mission, do you know how long I’ve wanted to see you all again? How much I wanted to see you?”

“But-“

“Simon, it's not the first bullet I’ve eaten, and it certainly won’t be the last. What matters is that you can hold me without having to put me in a body bag.” You explain. You watch as he listens to your reason, smiling a gentle smile as he closes in peppering your face with comfort kisses.

He pauses for a minute, taking you in. He slowly leans into your face heading for your lips that he’s wanted to taste since the beginning.

You both melt into each other as you feel the emotion Ghost was implying. It wasn’t a kiss of pure lust, or plain sexual attraction, it was a kiss of fear and passion. The fear that he might lose you if he doesn’t kiss you, and the passion that burned inside him when he was around you.

“Don’t ever leave me again you minx.” He whispered in your ear. You felt your heart flutter as you melted in his arms. You engulfed him in a deep hug, allowing his hands to travel to your waist.

Just as you two were about to get “handsy” a burst through the door knocked the semi romantic moment.

“Końig and Soap!” You cheered. You were glad to see them both ok, as Soap wheeled to your bedside.

“Hey doc. How ya feelin’” Soap questioned.

“Better than I did a few hours ago.” You scratched your head, claiming. The square giggled as you sat with your feet hanging off the bed that Ghost and you were sitting on.

After a few days you were discharged from the hospital, prescribed minor pain meds but other than that you were taken for leave at your job so now was the time for a vacation. You daydream of what you could do now that you had actual time off.

You stepped out of the hospital, only to be met by Ghost. He had left to go back to base a few days ago so your face was puzzled when you saw him in casual clothes, his car pulled to the parking lot, and no one else around.

“Hey Ghost. Didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you were on duty.” You question, still trying to see if Soap or Price was with him.

Ghost sighed, nervous as hell and fidgety.

“No. I asked for timed leave..” you smiled at him, making his heart flutter and finding himself even more nervous.

“That’s good! Lord knows everyone on the team could use timed leave.” You joke.

You motion to an opposite direction as Ghost grabs your arm without warning. You stare at him with patience as he loosens his grip.

“Where are you goin’?” He asked curiously.

“Home, I got a timed leave too. I don’t want to waste it at the hospital.” You joked again.

You watched as Ghost cleared his throat, straightening himself for you.

“Then hop in my car and waste your leave with me.” He finally spat. You felt your face growing with heat as you nodded, accepting and hopping in the car.

You two made small talk on the way home, him talking about what meals he wanted to eat as they didn’t have them on base. You talked about back home and how you sort of missed your family.

As the car rolled to a stop you realized that you both were at a restaurant.

He let your side of the car out, watching you step out and in awe.

“You just wanted to take me out, huh?” You slyly ask, looking over at Ghost.

“You knew and you still teased me, fuckin’ hell.” He playfully who rolled his eyes, latching his arm to yours as you both went into bananbee’s.

As he pulled into his driveway to his house you stepped out of the car to meet him at the front door. “Huh, I didn’t know there was a pin.” You talk to yourself as you fiddle with your shirt.

He walks up shortly after, pulling out a set of keys and unlocking the door. As soon as you both entered he snuck down and started feasting on your lips.

“S-Simon! At least let me take off my jacket!” You squealed as he hungrily kept smacking his lips against yours.

As a reply he just grunted, ripping the annoying jacket off your body. You bumped into the wall as his force on you was so strong. He broke the kiss, panting and wanting.

“You're just gonna eat me like this?” You flirt. He snickers, grinning as he works to declothe his shirt.

“So fuckin’ sweet.” He concluded, pinning you into the wall. You moaned under him as he nibbled and suckled at your precious neck.

“To fucking good sweetheart.” He says, breathing you in. You find your hands traveling through his hair as he fights with your bra, watching your breast pool out, your nipples growing stiff and pointed as the air nipped at them.

He wasted no time in latching his hungry mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking at them with hope that maybe you’d draw milk.

You felt your lower half getting wetter at the constant attention this man was giving to your body. You felt how he hit every nerve on your chest, leaving his mark wherever he felt.

You grinded into him, hoping the cause of friction would give Simon the memo.

“Si…I want you. I want it so fucking bad.” You moan out. He stops to stare at your face, begging with neediness.

“My fuckin’ baby want me that bad?” Ghost teases as he unbuckles his strap, letting his pants drop to the floor, freeing his oversized cock.

You squirm to get out of your pants. Your pretty painties soaked to the touch.

“All for me baby?” He grunts as he jerks himself towards your hip. You flex into him, your pussy clenching around nothing as his hand travels between your folds.

“S-Simon your such a tease.” You hiss. He laughs, tapping his middle finger on your sobbing clit. You flinch as he taps, jerking into his hand as he relishes in you.

He pops his finger out of your panties, drawing his fingers in his mouth to taste you. You see his eyes flutter and feel his cock twitch at the taste of you. You don’t hesitate to push your panties to the floor with the rest of your clothes as he grunts.

“Fuck baby… I gotta put it in.” “Sure you can handle me?”

You grind roughly into his cock as a reply, only answering with straggling mewls.

“So fuckin’ needy..” he whispers, grabbing his fat cock and stroking it aside your pussy. He lifts you up against the wall as he props you above his cock. You already felt your mind slipping as he lowered you onto him, his tip barely inside of you making you want to cum.

He thrust deep inside you, bottoming out as you both shouted. You slured his name, your mind only thinking about getting fucked.

“Good girl..my good girl.” He says as he starts pounding you against his wall. The rough pattern of his thrusting making you cock drunk.

“Fuck baby.. I can see your stomach bulging. You look so cute with my cock inside of you.” You whimper as he kisses you roughly and with passion. The taste of you stil, faintly on his tongue.

You feel the coil in your stomach lurk even tighter as you feel yourself giving into pleasure.

“G-gonna…g-gonna cum Si!” You practically scream out.

Ghost fastens his pace as you feel him twitch.

“M-me to baby.. fuck! Cum with me baby!” He screams as he pounds you harder. You grasp onto his back, leaving scratches along it.

He gets to his final thrust and unloads inside of you. You feel yourself give in and squeeze tight around him, cumming.

“I can feel it.” You breathe out, feeling up and down your stomach from how much he came inside you.

You felt his cock soften inside of you as cum started to drip down his cock.

He grabbed your limp body, taking you into the bedroom with him still inside of you.

Ghost gently pulled out of you, unplugging the supply of cum that he’d filled you with. You winced at the empty feeling it gave you.

“Don’t worry baby. There’ll be plenty more times when I can plug you full of my cock.” He teased, kissing your lips softly. You snicker as you get up to go to the bathroom to wash up. After a while you find Ghost in bed waiting patiently for you. You crawl into bed beside him as he flicks on the tv.

He wraps his arm around your waist as he spoons you, gently sliding his cock inside you again. You slowly fall asleep watching tv, Ghost notices and kisses you gently on the head before turning off the tv and falling asleep next to you.

A/N: Hey guys! I hope this one is WAY better than the last Ghost one :} Also credit to @Valbrainrot on TikTok for giving me the idea. This one shot is based off of their account.

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seradyn · 10 months

Text

I Won’t Let Go

Ruben x Reader fluff

Helping Ruben cope with a seizure, giving him lots of cuddles and comfort afterwards.

For my dear @broteinshake69 , based on this post.

Word Count: 3611

^ I am incapable of writing short one-shots :)

TW: None

I am not a neuroscientist, nor have I ever had a seizure, so I hope you can excuse the pseudoscience and inaccurate depiction x)

Les go

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A soft, familiar squelch filled his ears as the scalpel cut cleanly through the brain. Each incision was made with practiced precision, every wave of the small knife deliberate. He’d done this so many times before, it was second nature by now. Dissect, record, kill, dissect, record, he’d done it since he’d freed himself from beneath his parent’s thumbs. Since he got out of the basement. Ironic, now that he’d set up his main lab there.

Today was no different, though Ruben had chosen to focus on one particular part of the brain; the cerebellum. It sat lower on the organ, closer to the brainstem, meaning he often had to kill his subjects to get to it. No matter, the data was more than worth it. And it was there waiting for him, a wellspring of neurotransmitters and chemical reactions. The mind’s response to his live dissections etched into the stone walls of chemistry.

With one final, satisfying cut, the gelatinous glob fell from the rest of the organ, the gentle weight falling into a gloved hand. Ruben placed it onto its own tray, shoving the rest of the brain into a corner. He’d have to discard it before it began to rot, but that could wait. His scarred fingers twitched with the anticipation of new data. His creation, STEM, was nearly ready for its first prototype, he was so close.

Standing, he went to retrieve the rest of the tools he’d need, listing them off as he removed his gloves; syringes, sharper scalpels, a microscope. Things he preferred not cluttering his desk while he worked on getting the parts he needed. Sometimes he could work on the surgical tables marking the center of his ‘exam rooms’, but alas, he still needed to dispose of the body, too. Something that only served to waste his time, which could be spent doing research.

He grunted with the weight of some of the equipment, his hands sending dull shocks of pain up his arms. Ruben had years to cope with the weakness of his body after the fire, but it was moments like these that made him grit his teeth in silent rage. That day had rendered his existence one of constant pain and strife, and he was loath to be reminded of such.

Though that rage quickly simmered down, burning with a low heat in his chest. That was why he was doing this research, after all. His body, his life…his sister. What he lost, he would get back.

One subject, one dissection, one brain at a time.

Ruben let out a tense sigh, his robe catching the stale air as he spun around, awkwardly walking back to his desk with the bulky microscope cradled in his hands. He only wished it wasn’t taking so long. His project was years in the making, and he knew it would take years more for it to come to fruition. Truthfully, he was frustrated by it all. He was tired of living this joke.

The microscope hit his desk with a dull thud, the scars on his hands and fingers aching from the excursion. He shook them out, flexing his fingers to tame the soreness in his joints. The day was still young, and he was determined to make the most of it.

Ruben picked up his scalpel, positioning the cerebellum so his cuts would be clean along its length. To get the proper images, he’d need slices as thin as hairs, which meant there was little room for error. Too thick and he wouldn’t be able to see what he was looking for, too thin and there wouldn’t be enough to work with. He would be injecting them with dye, which in turn would react with the various chemicals throughout the soft tissue, changing the dye’s color. Crude methods, certainly, but they delivered the desired results. The way the brain coped with such high levels of stress, fear, and pain - he would have that as his prize.

Or, at least that was the plan. Plans which came to a grinding halt when Ruben found himself unable to move his arm or hand.

Puzzled, he furrowed his brow, glancing at the offending limb. It was frozen in midair, scalpel raised, as if stuck in time. He tried to force it into motion, but it didn’t budge, the muscles stiffened without his consent. Frustrated, he turned his attention back to the brain on his desk, hoping his muscles would relax after a moment. It wasn’t unusual for his body to just give out on him, much to his annoyance, but with any luck, it would pass after a few moments.

Ruben was caught off guard though, when his vision began to swim. He couldn’t focus on any one thing, all of it smearing into a watery mess of indistinguishable colors. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his muddy eyes, but there was no relief.

He heard a distinct clatter, that of metal striking metal. He’d dropped his scalpel, it took him too long to realize. He hadn’t even felt it, couldn’t perceive as his fingers closed around nothing. He could feel his breaths becoming frantic, his body not listening to his commands. The colors warped, shifted and melded, until everything began to go dark…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You knew something wasn’t right when you heard a metallic tink as you were coming down the basement stairs. The place was usually home to similar sounds, that of Ruben exchanging one tool for another while he worked, but this time it sounded different. Louder, more chaotic, like something had been dropped. That wasn’t like him - Ruben was meticulous, and took great care of his equipment. It wasn’t like him to be careless.

You’d been on your way down to deliver some water when you heard it. Ruben had trouble remembering his own physical needs while he was working, meaning more often than not, that duty fell to you. You made sure he stayed hydrated, and had something to eat if he got hungry between meals. He feigned irritation, stubborn as he was about being able to take care of himself, but you knew he appreciated what you did. The glasses were always empty when you came back to retrieve them, and his supply of snacks was always steadily depleting. While he didn’t approve of you being in his lab for long, he allowed you these short visits.

Besides, you always sweetened the deal by giving him a quick kiss before you went back upstairs, and you both knew Ruben couldn’t refuse you when you did that.

All such pretense went down the drain when you heard the strange noise, your heart jumping a little. You hurried the rest of the way down, dropping off the glass on a random table when you reached the bottom. Without hesitation, you barged into the room he was working in, not caring if he got mad at you for the intrusion. He was standing before his desk on the far wall, hand poised above a pink blob on a tray. Part of a brain, you supposed, but you hadn’t the foggiest idea which piece.

More worryingly, Ruben hadn’t acknowledged you when you came in. You tilted your head at him quizzically.

“Ruben?” You said, voice meek as you tentatively stepped forward. He offered no response, which only made your concern grow. Upon getting closer, you noticed a slight tremble to his form.

“Ruben? Ruben, what's wrong?” You said, more frantic now. You’d never seen him act like this, and you hadn’t a clue what could be causing him to do so.

You reached out a hand to steady him. His trembling only seemed to be getting worse.

Before you could graze the fabric of his robe with your fingers, his legs appeared to give out. Eyes widening, you jumped forward to catch him, yelping as he dragged you down to the floor with his weight. You collapsed in a tangled heap, Ruben’s body cushioned by your own. The concrete was cold, unforgiving as it bit into your tailbone.

Recovering from the tumble, you looked down at the man in your lap, opening your mouth to ask more questions. You just as quickly froze, feeling Ruben’s body twitch and convulse in your lap. The blood drained from your face, heart in your throat as you watched his body jerk violently.

Seizure, your brain offered through its panic.

“Fuck,” you muttered, setting Ruben gently down on the floor, mind whirling with what you were supposed to do.

He’d warned you this was a possibility. When you two started a relationship, he’d given you a laundry list of various complications that arose from his injuries. Numbness, trouble with temperature regulation, limited movement, muscle stiffness, and yes, seizures were on that list. He told you they happened more often when he was a boy, his body unable to cope with the loss of so much tissue. They didn’t happen as much anymore, but they would never fully go away. There was always a chance of one happening.

Too great a chance, you thought, ripping off your shirt and putting it under his head. He’d given you some basic instructions on what to do if he ever went into such a state, back when he explained all this. It was a bit hard to concentrate though, heart like a drum as you watched him seize.

Safety, safety first, you reminded yourself, spotting a scalpel close by - the one he dropped, you presumed. You quickly snatched it away from him, setting it on his desk so he wouldn’t cut himself. Next, you remembered him telling you to time his seizures, to make sure they didn’t last too long. You grabbed at your phone with shaky fingers, fumbling with the device until you finally got a timer going. Make sure he’s breathing, don’t hold him down, keep things out of his mouth, your mind recited the list, mentally checking off each one as you did it.

His last instruction, stay calm, was admittedly quite a bit harder to honor.

How were you supposed to stay calm with your love seizing on the floor?!

What was minutes felt like hours. You sat beside him, feeling useless and scared as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Ruben told you these weren’t a huge deal, and you trusted him, but being in the presence of it was something else entirely. You felt like you should be able to do more, make it less torturous somehow, but the logical part of you knew you couldn’t. Now it was just about waiting.

Slowly, his muscles began to settle, the spasms happening less often, their strength waning. You spared a look at his face, frowning at the grimace still on it. You hoped he wasn’t in pain. You peeked at the timer; 1 minute 40 seconds, it read.

You let out an anxious breath, rocking back on your shins. Not a medical emergency, then, if it was already clearing up. For that at least, you were grateful.

A deep groan filled the room, and your attention snapped back to Ruben. He was finally starting to regain consciousness, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the fluorescent bulbs overhead. Once you were sure it was safe, you scooped him up into your lap, cradling his head and shoulders while you softly whispered his name. You nudged his nose with your own, trying to get him to open his eyes. You needed to know he was okay. His flesh was cold, and you held him firmly, giving him as much of your warmth and comfort as you could.

Eventually, it worked. Ruben groaned again, a deep, pained sound, eyelids parting a crack to look up at you. They looked glassy, like he’d abruptly been awoken from a deep sleep. You gave his shoulders a light squeeze, delicately stroking the scarred side of his face while his good side pressed against your chest.

“Ruben, are you okay?” You asked gently, looking at him with clear worry etched into your face.

He blinked at you a few times, taking a moment to process your words.

“I…What happened?” He croaked, his voice horse. You’d have to remember to make him drink something.

“You had a seizure,” was your simple reply. You tried your best to sound calm, but your voice wavered as you spoke, giving you away. “I did my best to keep you safe and comfortable.”

Ruben studied your face for a moment before he nodded stiffly, his attention leaving you to scan the room.

“And where…are we?” He asked.

Ah, the confusion. You remembered he told you that was the most common symptom. Seizures almost always left their victims confused and disoriented.

“We’re in your lab, at the manor,” you told him. He seemed pleased with that answer, the last of the stiffness leaving him as he relaxed into you. Your heart melted as he nuzzled his face into your sternum, blinking lazily as he let out a contented sigh.

Loath as you were to move him, you knew this wasn’t the best place for him to rest.

“Hey,” you kissed his forehead to get his attention. Those pale irises snapped to you instantly; he couldn’t resist your touch. “I’ll take you to bed, okay?” You waited for a response, and after another nod, you continued. “Do you want me to get your wheelchair, or can you stand?”

His nose wrinkled at the mention of his chair. You knew he hated it, hated how much it reminded him how weak his body was, but with mobility being a common issue, he needed to keep it around. You wished for his sake he used it more often, but you never pushed the matter.

“I can walk,” he said quickly. He didn’t need the help, he could do it himself.

To prove his point, he tried to sit up. Tried, being the operative word. His adam’s apple bobbed with anguished grunts as his muscles screamed in protest. Everything was sore, like he’d just run a marathon in sweltering heat. His teeth ground together as he slumped forward, head hung as he fought down a wave of nausea.

“Hey,” you said again, supporting his back so he wouldn’t fall and hit his head. “Don’t push yourself. I’ll take you as far as I can, but if you need the wheelchair, please just ask for it. Now is not the time to be stubborn.”

Ruben huffed at you, but he knew he was in no position to argue. “Fine,” he hissed, letting you loop his arm behind your neck. With a quick countdown, you were able to hoist him up, both of you stumbling a little as you found your footing. His scars pressed up against you as he used you for support, and you did your best not to cause them any unnecessary irritation. After making sure Ruben was okay, you began your slow, awkward hobble up to the second floor.

It was a long, arduous process. One made almost entirely in silence, both of you struggling to put one foot in front of another. Only two questions from him broke the silence on your journey there: how long was the seizure, and why weren’t you wearing a shirt. You had to stifle a laugh at the second one, but you answered them honestly. It wasn’t long before you reached the bedroom, causing you both to sag in relief. You had to kick the door open, leading him inside as gravity shut it behind you.

He plopped onto the sheets heavily, panting from the pain plaguing his joints. You sat down next to him, taking his hand in yours, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb to sooth him. You couldn’t begin to imagine how hard something as simple as walking must be after that, especially with his burns already making movement difficult. Your own shoulders were sore from holding him up, but it was a small price to pay if it lessened his own suffering, even if only a little.

After a pause, Ruben sighed, lifting his head to stare at the wall opposite you.

“This is pointless,” he grumbled, turning to meet your gaze. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I should be back in the lab.”

Your brows drew down at that, eyes narrowing. Even for him, that was an insane notion. You leaned forward, placing a single finger on his charred nose.

“Liar,” you accused sternly. “I know you want to do more, but you’re in no condition to be running experiments. You need to rest.”

Ruben scowled, removing your hand from his face. “I need to get back to work. I’ve lost enough time as it is.”

You scowled back at him, a harsh rebuttal on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. The expression just as quickly dissolved, replaced by worry and sorrow. You knew how important his work was to him, you knew what he’d done to obtain it. Aside from you, it was everything to him.

“I know,” you said softly. You pushed the hood of his robe down, revealing his scarred, hairless face. You ran your hand along the edge of his jawline, admiring how handsome he looked like that. “I know it means a lot to you…I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He gave you an incredulous look, but you weren’t finished. “I know you’d stay down there every waking moment if you could, and I don’t fault you for that. But I can’t stand the thought of finding you impaled on your own equipment, or one of your subjects getting out because a seizure impaired your judgment. I don’t want to think about what could happen to you if you don’t give yourself a break. So if you can’t do it for yourself, can you at least do it for me?”

Ruben didn’t say anything at first, his eyes rolling over your face while you stroked his own. Part of you expected him to keep arguing; after all, he’d survived this long without you.

Instead, it hardly took a moment before his features began to soften, and he melted into your touch. His eyes closed in sweet bliss as you traced his scars with a loving reverence, basking in the way you worshiped his body.

“Alright,” he breathed. When he looked at you, his eyes were filled with a subtle adoration. “I’ll rest. But only if you promise to stay with me.”

Your face lit up at his condition, smiled brightly at him. You leaned forward, brushing his lips with yours.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you purred, smirking as his pupils widened with desire, a tiny shiver rippling across his skin. God, how easily he became putty in your hands.

Before he got any ideas though, you pulled away, wordlessly tugging at the sleeves of his robe. You both knew it would only catch on his scars while he was under the covers, so it needed to come off. He let you carefully remove it, not a word uttered from either of you as you threw it over your shoulder. You’d deal with it in the morning.

Averting your gaze from his bare chest, heat rushing to your cheeks, you wormed your way back onto the bed, flopping down onto your back. As an afterthought, you unclasped your bra, pulling your arms through it as you tossed it onto the floor. Like hell you were going to sleep in that. Satisfied, you beckoned Ruben to join you, holding out your hand invitingly.

Unfortunately, he was a tad busy, staring wide eyed at your form, to notice. He still wasn’t used to seeing such things, even after living together with you for months.

“No funny business,” you teased, lightly pulling on his arm to make him lay down.

His eyes flicked up and down, meeting yours before admiring you again.

“No promises,” he smirked.

You scoffed, pulling on him enough to finally coax him into action. He hesitantly crawled over you, lowering himself as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He let out another happy sigh as your breasts squished against his flesh, so soft, so warm. You traced along his spine with the pads of your fingers as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, letting your chin rest atop his head. Legs intertwining, he gently clutched at your shoulders while you pulled the blankets over your bodies. You smiled at the feeling of the dual textures of his rough, burnt skin and the smooth, untouched parts of it. The buttons of Ruben’s pants dug into your thigh, but you hardly noticed, instead enjoying this moment of affection between the two of you. You knew you were likely to wake up alone, Ruben having gone back to his lab, so you were going to savor this as long as you could.

As his breathing began to even out, you placed a few final kisses on the crown of his head.

“Rest now, my love,” you whispered, hands continuing their ministrations. “Rest, and I might just let you go back to work tomorrow.”

“As if you could stop me,” Ruben quipped, but his speech was slurred, his heart not in it. Shortly after, his breathing slowed considerably, and you knew he was fast asleep. He must’ve been exhausted; he didn’t usually fall asleep so fast.

Happy he was heeding your words, you closed your eyes, determined to follow suit. You imagined sitting by him in the music room, Ruben expertly plucking a melancholy tune from his piano as you drifted off to sleep.

———————————————————————

It’s been way too fucking long since I posted any fanfics, I almost forgot how I even format my own posts >.<

Anyway, more Ruben x Reader fluff in the future.

#ruvik x reader #ruben victoriano #ruben ruvik victoriano #ruvik victoriano #ruvik #ruben victoriano x reader

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