On your left

It was one of your favorite rooms in the manor, and not just because you spent so much time here with Andy. The decor was traditional–and expensive–a myriad of dark woods and butter-smooth leather. The walls were lined with built-in shelves, stacked with books and dotted with expensive pieces of decor, and even some antiques that probably cost more money than your brain could comprehend. 

But your favorite personal touch were the two pieces of framed artwork hanging behind Andy’s desk. They were abstract and colorful, and each time you got swept away staring at them, you swore your eyes gleaned a completely new shape or scene or meaning behind them. 

Andy once told you the story of how he had won them in a bidding war at an antique auction after months of tracking down any artwork he could find by his late mother’s favorite artist. 

It seemed like such a small thing about himself that he had shared with you–but it showed the kind of man that Andy Barber was. 

Devoted. Determined. Strategic. Patient when it counted most.

And never willing to give up. 

You smiled as you slowly made your way to where he sat hunched over his executive desk, still deep in his own work despite the approach of early evening. 

It was traits like his devotion and patience that had finally won you over completely–despite how gun-shy you had been at the mere idea of anything more with Andy. 

With anyone, really, given your history.

But even you couldn’t deny that the more you got to know Andy, the more time you had spent with him, the more the thought of something more had taken root in your brain and began to flourish.

And now here you were. 

Clocking your proximity, Andy finally pulled his eyes from his computer screen, straightening in his leather-back chair. His gaze softened as it landed on you, his lips tilting up at the corners into your favorite smile. 

“All done for the day?” he asked, pushing his seat back and making room for you, because he knew you well. 

So Andy didn’t bat an eye when you nodded in response to his question before slowly sinking to the floor, until you were sat between his feet and resting your cheek against his knee with a soft sound of contentment.

“I rescheduled your meetings for tomorrow to next week, like you asked,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering as Andy reached out and began to gently pet your head. “And I ordered flowers for Ari’s mother for her birthday next week, too.” 

“Thank you, honey,” Andy murmured, his fingers teasing along the shell of your ear and making you shiver. “You take such good care of me, of all of us. I bet you even reminded Ari of his mother’s birthday, just to be safe.”

Your cheeks warmed, because Andy was right, and his tone was so fond colored with the kind of tenderness–just for you–that made your insides swoop and flutter. You hid your face against his leg, your insides fluttering some more at the sound of Andy’s quiet, husky laugh. 

But speaking of Ari, something tickled your brain, something that made you frown as you tilted your face up and opened your eyes, your gaze shining with worry. 

“How are things with the art gallery?” you asked. “Is the business owner next door still causing you trouble?”

Andy’s eyes danced at the mention of the woman who owned the tea and bookshop next door to his new business. “She’s nothing to fret over, honey. Ari’s taking care of her.”

At that, you nervously gnawed on your lower lip. As much as you had come to accept the fact that Andy was a mob boss–and sometimes had to do ruthless, unsavory things–he treated you so well, and was so loving, that it wasn’t an issue for you. 

In fact, it provided a sense of security that you had never known until Andy–the fact that you now had such a powerful and competent protector.

But still… you didn’t like the idea of Ari hurting anyone, of the things you were sure he had done and was capable of doing. No matter how respectful and protective he was of you. 

You didn’t wish his dark intentions on anyone, even someone who had proven to be a thorn in Andy’s side from day one. 

But then again, given the rivals and competition he usually dealt with, this woman’s antics were almost… charming. 

“Don’t look so worried,” Andy hummed, gently caressing your cheek. “He’s dealing with her in a way I’m quite certain she enjoys.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Oh.” Your eyes widened enough to make Andy laugh. “Well… good. I know the gallery is your pet project and the first business that you’re genuinely excited for.”

“And it’s the perfect front for arms dealing, which drives the most revenue, so really it’s a win win.”

You hummed in agreement, once again sinking against Andy as he continued his light touches and caresses. His fingers danced along the tension in your shoulders, moving slower and pressing firmly, until you were making a quiet sound of relief as the knots of tension seemed to melt away into nothing.

“You slept fitfully last night,” Andy said. 

You nodded, leaning into the cradle of Andy’s palm that now rested against your cheek. He tilted your face up so he could get a better look at you, observing the shadows beneath your eyes with a small frown and furrowed brow. 

“More nightmares?” he asked.

This time you hesitated, but only briefly, before nodding again.

You didn’t hesitate because you wanted to hide your struggles from Andy, or because you were embarrassed he had of course noticed the state of you, but more so just because you hated to think about your nightmares, and the things from your past that caused them. 

At your admission, and the way your shoulders hunched and curled just a little, Andy’s touch instantly became more intentional. His hand moved to grip the back of your neck, squeezing in that way he knew melted your brain and made all of your anxiety dissipate. 

Of their own accord, your hands lifted so you could cling to Andy’s thighs, pressing your forehead against his knee and nearly curling around his leg like a koala–greedy for his touch. 

Even after all this time, you still couldn’t believe it, the way Andy’s touch affected you–in a good way. That you loved it and often needed it now. 

Because there had been a time when you thought that you would never enjoy the touch of another again…

18 Months Ago

“Another month in the green,” Andy said, sounding pleased as he scrolled through the financial slides on the tablet he held. 

“Bet you’re fucking tickled that you went all in on the club with me,” Lloyd Hansen preened, sinking back in his desk chair and giving Andy a shit-eating grin. “I told you this would be a money maker. There’s nothing like it for miles and miles.”

Andy hummed, setting the tablet on Lloyd’s desk, his face serious as he eyed the other man. “And I bet you’re fucking tickled that I gave you permission to set up shop in my territory.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you made me work for it and go in halfsies with you, so.”

“You’re welcome,” Andy smirked. 

Lloyd scoffed, opening his mouth to likely fire back something Andy would make him regret, but before he could speak a word, his office door flung open and you were forcefully shoved inside. 

You squealed as Lloyd’s head of club security–the brute–gave you another shove that had you nearly face planting into the thick, expensive carpet. 

“Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t to be interrupted?” Lloyd snarled at said brute. 

“Sorry, boss,” he grunted, giving you a lethal glare, “but she caused a scene out on the floor.”

Lloyd’s eyes snapped to you so quickly that you flinched. 

“Did she?” The chill in his voice had you cowering in dread as the security guy quickly ducked out of the office, pulling the door closed as he went and shutting you away with your prickly boss.

You were too terrified of Lloyd, and too distressed after what had happened out on the night club floor, to notice the stranger sitting across from Lloyd’s desk. 

“This is the thanks I get for hiring your cry baby ass?” Lloyd hissed as he rose from his seat.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hansen,” you quavered as he rounded his desk and stalked closer. “But… I, I told you, I don’t like to be touched and one of the men out there, he grabbed me and–”

Lloyd didn’t stop his approach until he stood toe-to-toe with you, causing you to visibly tremble as you hugged yourself tightly and kept your head ducked low, your eyes fixed on your feet. 

“You’re in a fucking night club, toots, dressed like that, might I add–“ Lloyd scoffed.

“You made me–“ you countered weakly.

“It’s called a work uniform.”

You thought that was a stretch as you eyed your outfit which wasn’t much more than a pair of metallic booty shorts and a sorry excuse for a shirt that nearly had your breasts spilling out the top. 

And you weren’t even one of the cage dancers, you were just a server. 

“You told me you needed this job, that you were desperate for work,” Lloyd growled.

At that, your head lifted, your gaze frantic as it met Lloyd’s. “I am, I do! Please, I’m sorry–“

Lloyd shook his head. “I can’t have you out there causing a scene anytime the clientele gets a little handsy. That’s part of the job. I mean, what the fuck did you think you were getting into working here?”

“Please, sir, I need this job. I don’t have anything else or anyone or–”

“Oh boo fucking hoo,” Lloyd sneered, dipping his head close and making you recoil. “I gave you a chance. I was more than generous. You get paid well. You get benefits. And this is how you thank me?”

Your chest hitched, a sob working its way up to your throat, because he was right. You had been so obviously out of your depth when you had shown up here for your interview, but you had also been beyond desperate for the gig, for a steady income, to survive. 

And now you had gone and fucked it all up because you couldn’t just do what all the other servers did and acclimate to your environment. 

“Get out,” Lloyd enunciated slowly before straightening. “And don’t come back.”

“No! Please!” Your voice was pitched with hysteria as panic flared within you. 

Because you couldn’t lose this job.  

“I can… I can do something else! Anything else!” you cried, trailing behind Lloyd as he turned his back on you and sauntered toward his desk. “I can tend bar or or do inventory or–”

He whirled on you suddenly, making you squeak as you walked right into him and then sharply drew back as if you’d been burnt. 

There was a mean glint in Lloyd’s eyes as they slowly trailed over you, in a familiar way that had your belly sinking and your skin crawling. 

“The only other use I have for you wouldn’t be ideal since you don’t like being touched, cupcake.” Lloyd made a lewd gesture with his fingers and tongue to get his point across, giving a mean laugh as you hugged yourself tightly and stumbled away from him. “That’s what I thought. I have no use for you. You’re useless. So get fucking gone.”

He turned away, clearly dismissing you, his words reverberating in your head loud enough to drown out all of your panicked thoughts. 

Because you were useless.  

Your tears finally fell as your devastation consumed you. You would be out of your shitty apartment within weeks if you couldn’t make rent. You’d be back on the streets, needing to do whatever it took just to get by. 

You shuddered with dread just thinking about it. Especially in this city. 

But you had nowhere else to go. No one to turn to. 

You had nothing. 

You were nothing. 

“GET OUT!” Lloyd’s holler made you snap back to the present moment.

You physically jumped at his raised voice, whimpering before turning on your heel to scurry out of his office, but a quiet, unfamiliar baritone made you freeze in place. 

“Wait.”

Lloyd huffed. “Really, Barber? You’re undermining me in my own club?”

“Our club. And I’m not undermining you. Just because you don’t have a use for her, Hansen, doesn’t mean I don’t.”

The tiniest, weakest flare of hope flickered within you as you turned and looked at the man who spoke, not nearly as bold in your gaze as he was. 

Even though he was seated, you could tell that he was tall, his posture straight and confident, his shoulders broad beneath the dark suit jacket he wore. His skin was fair and flawless, his face shadowed with a dark, meticulously kept beard that matched the floofy swoop of his brown hair. 

But it was his dark blue eyes that made your own gaze linger, and widen.

Because you realized that the stranger wasn’t watching you with a lecherous look like most men you’d come into contact with. His gaze was shining with something new and unfamiliar–sympathy, and calculation. 

“Take her out to the car,” he nodded, and another man you didn’t even notice until now materialized from the dark corner of the office. 

He was the biggest, broadest man in the room. His hair dark and long enough to curl around his blue, denim shirt collar. He was so big, in fact, that when he stepped toward you, you whimpered again, cowering at the sheer size of him.  

“He won’t hurt you,” the stranger with the pretty blue eyes promised. “Go on. We’ll speak once I’m done here.”

You swallowed hard–nervously–but you were nodding before you even realized it, your body picking up on the softness in his tone and gaze before your brain did. 

It made zero sense, especially given your history, but you trusted him, instinctively. 

So you turned, grateful when the man you assumed was his bodyguard didn’t touch you as he corralled you out of the office and down the back hallway of the club. 

Once you were tucked away in the dark, luxurious SUV parked out back, your mind started to spiral again, all the frantic noise inside your head blaring on a loop.

What were you doing? 

You didn’t even know this man. 

If he was in business with Lloyd, you couldn’t imagine he was much better. 

But then you remembered the softness in his voice when he spoke to you. In his gaze when he looked at you. 

He saw your fear and desperation and it seemed like maybe he actually wanted to help you.

Lord knew you could use that right about now. 

You were startled from your thoughts as the back door opened and the stranger appeared, climbing in beside you. You noticed how he seemed intentional in keeping some distance between you–in respecting your personal space. 

It was such a far cry from Lloyd and pretty much every other man you had ever met, that you felt a lump swell in your throat, and you had to look away from his intent gaze to blink the tears from your own. 

“What’s your name?” he asked gently. 

You took a breath, peeking over at him as you murmured your name. 

He gave you a small smile, introducing himself in return. “I’m Andy Barber, it’s a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.”

Your lips trembled into an almost hopeful smile.

“You need work?”

You nodded fervently, so much so that you made yourself dizzy as you breathed, “Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any skills or notable experience?” Andy asked.

And just like that–you wilted. 

Because you didn’t. You barely had an education, and your resume was laughable–just a string of odd jobs that never lasted long, and the kind of years-long gap that would make any eyebrow raise. 

The only thing you had to offer was what Lloyd alluded to back in his office. 

Yourself. Your body. 

But you couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t. Not again. Not even if it was your choice this time. 

You wouldn’t, you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t.

Andy’s quiet voice broke through your internal spiral–your mindless mental chant–as he told you, “You know, I didn’t start out at the top. I came from nothing. But someone with means saw potential in me. They gave me a chance. So I’m willing to do the same for you.”

And there it was again, that tiny flicker of hope sparking to life in the deep recesses of your tarnished soul. 

“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’m very good at reading people, and I think you’re someone capable of loyalty, and that I prize most above all. Skills can be taught, knowledge can be gleaned, but loyalty? Trust? Those are innate and of the utmost value, especially in my world.”

You looked at Andy again and couldn't help but shiver. His poise, his confidence, his direct gaze. 

You weren’t quite sure who he was, but you knew that you had somehow stumbled your way into the path of someone important. Someone powerful. 

Someone who maybe, if you earned his trust, if you made him proud, he would keep you safe. 

And that, to you, was of the utmost value.

So you took a deep, shaky breath before whispering, “I can be loyal.” You swallowed before continuing, “And I can work real hard, no matter what you ask of me,” your voice faltered. “Except… I don’t… please, I’m not–“

Despite your fumbling, Andy seemed to understand where your mind had gone. What fear overtook you now. 

You saw him reach for you–perhaps his intention was a comforting touch–but he must have remembered you didn’t like to be touched, because he pulled up short and his hand retreated, resting on his thigh instead. 

“That isn’t what this is,” he said gently. 

“Okay,” you squeaked, sinking beneath the weight of your relief. “Good. T-thank you.”

You peeked over at him again, feeling unsure but also a little mesmerized. Because Andy Barber was beyond handsome. In fact, he was beautiful, but his eyes… your gaze couldn’t stop returning to his and the softness that resided there. 

No one had ever looked at you that way before. 

Without vile or cruel intentions aimed your way. Without malice or greed. Without the promise of pain, or worse. So much worse.

“Well, this seems pretty cut and dry to me, and genuinely the most pleasant interview process I’ve ever experienced,” Andy said. “So, you’re hired.” He winked, looking delighted when that got a quiet giggle out of you. 

But the sound of your amusement cut off abruptly as the car began to move, and you jolted upright, panicked. 

“Relax,” Andy soothed, his fingers twitching against his thigh like he was once again resisting the urge to reach out with a comforting touch. “We’re just driving you home, and then you can come to my place tomorrow and we can discuss how you can best support me,” Andy explained. “Where do you live?” 

You didn’t respond for a moment, not so much because you didn’t trust him–didn’t know him–but because you were embarrassed by the answer. But after a beat, you gave it to him anyway. 

Andy didn’t wrinkle his nose in disgust or make a judgmental remark like Lloyd had when he read your address on your new hire paperwork. He just relayed the address to his bodyguard, who was driving, before sitting back in his seat. 

“Would you be open to relocating?” Andy asked, clearly taking you by surprise. “If I have you assisting me daily, it makes the most sense for you to live on my property.”

“I…” you hesitated, not wanting to spoil this gift so soon after receiving it. 

Especially since you had no other prospects. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you said carefully. 

Andy’s eyes sparkled at your diplomatic answer. “You wouldn’t be. Most of my staff have quarters at my manor. Like Ari,” he nodded toward the beefy man in the driver’s seat. “Same with my personal chef and butler.”

“Oh,” you murmured, nervously wringing your hands together in your lap. 

Because it seemed like Andy had a whole staff under his employ. Not to mention a manor.

Again, you couldn’t help but wonder who he was, whose orbit you had been drawn into. 

“Can I think about it, please?” You asked, not wanting to give up all of your minimal autonomy at once. 

Not wanting to make what could be a very life-changing decision before you knew Andy better.

“Of course,” he replied easily. “I can show you around tomorrow to help inform your decision. How does that sound?”

“Very generous.”

Andy shot you a small smile, and your belly swooped at the sight before you quickly looked away, your leg jiggling with nerves as Ari steered the SUV onto your street. 

The vehicle eased to a stop at the curb just outside of your dingy apartment building, and you found yourself unable to look at Andy–to risk seeing the pity in his eyes.  

“Here, why don’t we exchange numbers?” Andy suggested, fishing his cell phone from his inner jacket pocket. 

You pulled your own dated device from your back pocket, quickly fulfilling his request before clutching your phone between your sweaty palms. 

“I’ll send a driver to pick you up tomorrow at eight thirty, does that work for you?” Andy asked.

“Yes, but you don’t need to,“ you objected. “I can take the bus, or–”

“It’s a safety precaution on my end,” Andy assured you. “I don’t give out my home address to many. Not in my line of work.” 

He winked to make light of something serious, and you once again found yourself wondering what–exactly–was Andy’s line of work? 

What were you getting yourself into?

But you just as quickly shook that thought away, because this opportunity–Andy’s kindness–it was all you had, and it was truly a gift. 

No one had ever done something like this for you before, had given you a chance, a helping hand in a moment when you needed it most. 

And you wouldn’t waste it. 

So you nodded, mustering a smile despite your anxiety as you told Andy, “I’ll be ready tomorrow at eight thirty.”

“Perfect,” he smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He watched as you opened the car door and slipped outside, hesitating before you turned back to him. Because a new feeling was overriding your nerves now.

Gratitude. 

You felt so very thankful for this unexpected opportunity. For Andy’s empathy and belief in you.  

You weren’t used to getting help or lucky breaks. 

You weren’t used to anyone caring about you in any way at all. 

It must have been written all over your face too, all these thoughts swirling inside of you, because Andy’s features softened as he watched you, another one of those small smiles cursing his lips. 

“Go get some rest, honey, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Your belly swooped at the term of endearment, and you lingered for a moment, wishing you were good with words, that you could articulate how grateful you were, how much this meant to you. But you finally settled on a very earnest, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

“No need to thank me. And call me ‘Andy.’”

Your insides fluttered at his request, and you nodded. “Goodnight, Andy.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching your retreat.

Despite the way you hurried up the front steps and into the entryway, the SUV seemed in no rush to depart, instead idling at the curb until you were safely inside.

You scurried up the four flights of stairs to your unit in a daze, your brain trying to process everything that happened tonight. You were out of your new job at the club, but it seemed like something better could be awaiting you. 

Thanks to Andy. 

You were terrified to really get your hopes up, because so rarely did things go your way, but this time, weirdly, the excitement–and anticipation to see Andy again–was something you just couldn’t shake… 

“Come here, honey.”

The sound of Andy’s voice brought you back to the present moment, your hazy mind surfacing from one of the few pleasant memories you had. 

Blinking owlishly, you glanced up to find Andy watching you in soft amusement, his big hand held out toward you. 

You slipped your hand into his, allowing Andy to pull you first to your feet, then into his lap. 

His arms circled you in an instant, tugging you close as his lips pressed a kiss to your forehead. As you went pliant against him, resting your cheek on his shoulder, he murmured, “We’re going away for a long weekend.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “We are?” 

Andy smiled as he caressed your cheek. “Well, as long as you want to, but it’s why I had you clear my calendar tomorrow. I think some peace, quiet, and nature will do you good.”

You couldn’t suppress your giddy smile if you tried. “We’re going to the lake house then?”

Andy’s smile was more of a grin as he nodded, “I know it’s your favorite.”

“Thank you, Andy!” you squealed, nearly bouncing in his lap as you hugged him and pressed a kiss to his beardy cheek. 

Andy’s eyes twinkled at your sweet excitement. As you went to pull away, his fingers caught your chin, staying your retreat as his eyes ignited in a way that had a surge of warmth pooling low in your belly.

Slowly, his gaze meeting yours and not shying away, Andy pulled you in for a real kiss. The kind of kiss that made it impossible to catch your breath because you could feel with each and every press of Andy’s lips against yours how much he loved you, cherished you, wanted you. 

You were nearly panting once he pulled away, your eyes dazed enough to make him smile. 

“You never need to thank me for taking care of you,” Andy hummed, touching his lips to your forehead. “For treating you the way you deserve.” His next kiss warmed your cheek, then he placed a final kiss on the other before pulling away at last. “Why don’t you go pack?”

“I will, in a little while, but first, can we just…” You sank against him, loosely clinging to him as you nuzzled your cheek against his chest. “Stay like this for a little while?” 

“We can stay this way for as long as you want,” Andy promised, his big hand touching your back before settling into a slow, soothing rhythm–up and down, up and down–making you go even more pliant against him.

Humming your content, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, truly feeling your exhaustion for the first time all day. 

But you felt something else alongside it, something that–once upon a time, but not so long ago–you never would have thought you would ever feel… 

As Andy’s soft, musky scent filled your nose, as his warm, reassuring touch smoothed up and down your back, as you tucked your face against the crook of his neck and breathed in as deep, you felt truly and unequivocally safe.

🥹 You guysss. I love them SO hard. I would be so beyond grateful and delighted if you took a moment to drop me a comment or reblog with your thoughts. Pretty please! With a naked Andy and Ari on top?! 😘

—

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And, okay, maybe once you realized the fact that the new business next door was bought by a mobster, you should have just turned a blind eye and minded your own business—literally.

But you’re not built that way.

So you found yourself being a bit of a menace and spoiling initiatives here and there. Staying open later than you’re supposed to to mess up scheduled deliveries or business dealings. Misdirecting vendors and other associates to throw a wrench in plans and timelines.

Scary mobster was actually amused at your antics, but you were pushing back his very meticulously laid plans with all of your shenanigans, and while he didn’t necessarily want to kill you to keep you out of his hair, he had caught on to the fact that his exceptionally loyal and persuasive enforcer seemed to have an eye for you.

So if you weren’t going to play fair, neither would he.

Which is how you find the back entrance of your business filled by a behemoth of a bearded man who’s wider than the door frame and is effectively blocking you from skedaddling out back to foil yet another late night shady dealing.

You open your mouth to tell him that he shouldn’t be here and to get out, but he actually speaks before you, his voice a sharp, gravelly command as he points to your desk chair and orders you to, “Sit.”

You scoff, straightening to your not very impressive at all height—especially compared to his—and it’s your hands clenching into fists at your sides that has his eyebrow quirking in a way that makes you think he’s amused but would never outright show it.

Your lips part to tell him where he can shove his command, but in the blink of an eye, Ari’s towering right over you. He’s even more gigantic up close, and you have to crane your head back to see his face. His eyes are dark and glittering in a way that has all of your hair standing on end.

When he touches a thick, rough finger to your lips and murmurs for you to, “Hush,” all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes and a throbbing cunt as his watchful gaze dances along your face.

His eyes take their time surveying the rest of you, too, lingering on certain areas that have a hyperaware heat flooding your face.

When his gaze finally lifts to realign with yours, there’s the shadow of something in his eyes that has you shivering hard and taking a step back even as your nipples pebble and ache.

“On second thought,” his voice is all grit and gravel, and before your mind can comprehend what’s happening, he’s drops down onto the small worn, sofa in your office before yanking you down into his lap.

“Hey!” You squawk, flailing as you try to scurry away from him, but he bands a thick, muscular arm around your middle and effortlessly holds you in place, flush against him and all of his big, stupid muscles.

“And yet still you’ve been brazenly stirring up all kinds of nonsense to be a thorn in his side.”

There was just a hint of admiration in Ari’s voice, and for some reason, that seemed scarier than if he was angry.

“This is my business,” you quavered. “My baby, he can’t just… just come in here and do this.”

“He can,” Ari rebutted, nuzzling against your warm cheek. “He already has.”

Your vision blurred with the hot burn of tears, but before you could let your devastation consume you, Ari was speaking again, softly, right against the shell of your ear.

“So many fear my boss, and he’s definitely a force to be reckoned with, but me? I’m the one who gets my hands dirty, who makes all of his problems and annoyances go away.”

For perhaps the first time since all of this had started, it hit you like a bolt of lightening—who you were dealing with, who you were so stupidly drawing the attention of.

Who you were making an enemy of.

That realization had a whimper of fear spilling past your lips, because for all your determination and sassiness, you didn’t want to go away, permanently.

“Shh shh shh,” Ari cooed, his hand on your belly giving a gentle pet before it slowly started to descend.

You gasped sharply as his touch slid between your thighs, as he cupped your cunt through your jeans and panties as his teeth caught your earlobe and gave a warning nip.

you can faintly hear him barking quiet orders around, then the slam of a car door. "listen to me baby, i need you to grab your gun from the bedside table,"

"i can't-"

"yes you can honey, we've done plenty of training, remember? you aced it every single time- hell, you're practically better than me, i know you can do this for me," his car starts, and you can hear the screech of tires as he pulls out of wherever he's parked.

you open the drawer as quietly as you can, your hand shaking as you wrap it around the grip of the pistol. "i got it," your quiet voice trembles.

"you're doing so good, baby," he assures, "now i need you to switch the safety off and cock it, can you do that for me?"

you nod to yourself, setting the phone down to cock the gun, then flick off the safety. the moment you want to grab the phone again, the bottom stair creaks, followed by slow footsteps up. "shit- someone's coming upstairs-" you whisper close to the phone, both shaking hands holding the gun forward.

"fuck! i'm almost there, hang in there baby-" Rick's heart is pounding, his chest feels heavy and his hands are sweating against the steering wheel.

you can faintly hear him on the phone, but not enough to make out what he's saying. your trigger finger hesitantly curls around the trigger as the steps sound closer, your breath hitching as they stop directly in front of your door.

your finger twitches against the cold metal, and the panic inducing thought runs through you, what if you forgot to load it? the rational part of you knows that Rick put it in there loaded, so it can't possibly be empty-- but what if it magically is?

the door creaks open as the intruder pushes in, and from your position on the floor by the bed, you don't think he can immediately see you. though, you can't help but gasp as his eyes lock directly onto yours. your eyes squeeze shut as your finger tightens, and the gun fires.

all Rick can hear is the panic in your gasp and the loud shot, then the second one, then silence. "goddamnit!" he roars, speeding down the road as he cuts corners.

his heart's pounding so loud that it's all he hears as he cocks his own gun, eyes sharp with fear as he pushes through your open front door. images of what he might find upstairs flashing before his eyes as he clears the two rooms downstairs, then makes his way upstairs.

his boot pushes into the part of the bottom step in way it won't creak, and his heart aches. all the times you've said that he should fix it, but every time he shakes his head. his reasoning for himself had been that you could hear intruders that way-- not that he had outright ever told you-- because Rick never made it creak. he wordlessly instilled it into you, that if that step creaks, it's not him.

he takes a deep breath, checking the bathroom before readying himself for what he might find. for a scene that haunts his nightmares. he slowly pushes the door open, gun aimed steady as his wide eyes sweep the room, and his heart drops at the sight before him.

you, curled up in the corner with the gun on the floor in front of you, blood splattered across your bare legs which you're hugging. you're sobbing, face pressed between your knees. he looks behind him, finding the unmoving body of the intruder on the floor, a big enough pool of blood beneath him for Rick to know that he won't ever be moving again.

Rick holsters his gun, kneeling down before you. "you're alright baby-" he breathes, but the second his hands touch your knees, the second you scream and shoot back.

"don't touch me-!" you cry, eyes still squeezed shut as you fight back against the unknown hands.

"sweetheart it's me! it's Rick, honey- m'right here!" he he assures you, his big hands finding your tear-slicked cheeks as he pushes your face up to face his. "easy, easy- it's me," he swallows, "you're safe,"

your eyes blink open as the unmistakable scent of him washes over you, wide and frantic eyes meeting his pained but steady ones. "Rick.." your voice cracks, your face screwing up with pain and guilt. your eyes flit back to the body, "he- i-"

"hey hey- eyes on me, okay?" he shushes, moving to sit directly in between the body and your line of sight. "you did what you had to to protect yourself, alright? you did nothin' wrong here darlin'." his own voice cracks a little, calloused thumbs rubbing against your cheekbones to try and ground you.

the whole sight wrecks him to kingdom come; you hadn't even felt like you had the time to pull on a shirt or robe, trembling before him in only your underwear. blood's splattered up your shins and knees, there's some on your non dominant hand too. a few flecks even made it onto your face.

"oh baby.." he breathes, pulling you against his chest. you sob against him, and he holds you bone-crushingly close to him.

you don't know how long you two stay like this, long enough for your sobs to have died down to sniffles and hiccups. Rick hasn't stopped rocking you back and forth, his big hands smoothing up and down your bare skin to comfort and warm you up as best he can.

he pulls you away for a second, holding your face between his hands again. "let's get you cleaned up, and we'll stay somewhere else for the night, alright?" you meet his eyes, slowly nodding. "that's my girl.." he smiles sadly, "i'll call some people to help clean up here while we get some rest, you won't have to worry about a thing,"

he carefully picks you up, making sure to keep your face tucked against his chest and his back to the body and the mess as he carries you to the bathroom. he lowers you into the tub, turning on the shower off to the side to warm up while he calls someone.

"hey, Harley-" he starts, but you can faintly hear her shouting something. "yeah yeah- listen- no, i get that- will you knock it off for a second?" he huffs, feeling the water with his fingers. "i need your help cleaning somethin' up at my girl's place, can i count on you?"

once the water’s a comfortable temperature he wets a soft washcloth. "thanks- yes, i know- lord, d'you ever stop? the door's open whenever you get here- yeah, see you."

he sets his phone down with a sigh, before pouring some of his shower gel onto the cloth. he knows that you find the familiar scent comforting. "Harley'll be here soon to help clean up, and we can crash at DuBois' for a night or two," he quietly explains, gently scrubbing at the drying blood. he also knows that his shower gel should smell strong enough to mask the scent of blood.

you nod, resting your cheek against the edge of the tub, your hair brushes against Rick's arm. it's quiet, besides the sound of running water and Rick's steady breathing.

the front door downstairs creaks, and he notices you flinch in panic. "heya, it's just me!" Harley calls out, and you visibly relax against him. the stairs creak beneath her irregular footsteps, then a soft knock against the bathroom doorway. "hey sweet cheeks," she smiles sadly as she meets your eyes. the tub plus Rick's broad shoulders block most of her view of your bare figure. "i'll scrub this whole thing away, alright sweety?" before disappearing off into the bedroom.

Rick finishes up, wrapping a soft towel around you as he dries you off. he pushes up with slight cracks in his knees, "i'm goin' to grab you some comfortable clothes, and then we'll get goin', okay?" you meet his eyes, nodding along tiredly.

he disappears for not more than a few seconds, faintly hearing Harley say something like "already done and did for her!" before he comes back with a duffle bag. he pulls out some sweats and one of his shirts that's on the small side for him, then hands them over. "we'll get through this, alright?"

you pull on his shirt, letting the comforting material drape against you as his scent surrounds you. "i know," you croak, your voice rough and raw. and you do know; you know and believe that Rick would move heaven and hell for you to make sure you're alright.

「 ꜜauthors note,, y'alllll,,,, 🫠 Rick comfort is exactly what i needed to write today 🙂‍↕️ so thank you for the request dear anon! x. ꜜtaglist,, @Firelara112 @tufftukk @castalyne @weallhaveadestiny . 」

The first drawing was inspired by this panel from fear state I think? Or the cowardly lot not sure

You watched from the doorway as he stared at the man in the mirror like he didn’t recognize him, like he was a stranger–and you supposed that he was.

It wasn’t just the thick beard that covered his jaw, or the way his blonde hair had grown out, he just wasn’t the man he used to be–the man he couldn’t even remember having been.

And it made your heart hurt.

It had been over three months since you found Steve–back then, Captain Hydra–standing in the middle of your cabin looking lost and near feral. Three months since your empathy and kindness had somehow soothed the savage beast.

Three months since you willingly gave yourself to the deadly stranger looming in your home, hoping that maybe, just maybe a bit of connection and intimacy–of reprieve from whatever horrors had been forced upon him–would help him in some way.

And you thought it did.

Steve hadn’t hurt you since he’d been here. If anything, he clung to you like you were the only anchor he had to the present, often following you around your home, a quiet shadow, always looming close, always seeking small moments of connection and touch–yearning for the softness that you were so willing to show him. 

In the early days, you had tried to help Steve remember who he was, who he had been, and what Hydra had done to him–ensuring him that his actions under their control weren’t his fault. But you learned quickly that trying to unearth those memories–that knowing–from his fractured mind only triggered him, leaving him agitated and restless for days on end.

So you backed off from trying to make him remember, and instead focused on just helping him heal in any way you could–providing a safe space for him, a warm and welcoming home, and little by little, it did seem as though Steve was broken less and healing more. 

But he still had these moments, these gutwrenching moments when you knew he was lost in the dark, splintered depths of his mind, like he was drowning at sea, barely able to keep his head above water.

So you would be that life line for him. You would save him from drowning any way that you could. 

You moved closer to him now, gently touching his arm so as not to startle him.

Still, Steve did give the most minute of jerks, his eyes blinking into focus, warming considerably at the sight of you standing beside him in the mirror. 

He turned to you immediately, his hands lifting to circle your waist and tug you flush against him. He buried his face against the crook of your neck, his breath shaky as he breathed you in, clung to you. 

For a moment, you just stood there, allowing Steve to hold you, hugging him back, clinging to him in return as you felt some of the rigid tension slake away from his big, broad body. 

“Come on,” you encouraged, stepping away as you reached for Steve’s hand. 

You led him to the shower, stripping naked and watching as he did the same, unable to help it as your eyes lingered on his powerful body, on all those perfectly cut muscles and blemish-free skin that hid the secrets of what he had endured over the years. 

You turned on the shower, waiting until the water was just right before stepping in and reaching a hand behind you. Steve’s big paw instantly enveloped yours, and he joined you in the small space. 

It was a tight fit–almost comical, the two of you squeezed in the tiny shower together–but you could tell Steve needed this right now–the intimacy, the distraction.

He only confirmed your knowing as he stepped as close as possible, once again clinging to you, his hands so gentle as they trailed up and down your back as he nosed along your shoulder, greedy to drown in your scent.

You didn’t shy away from him, didn’t admonish him for making it hard to actually get clean, you just washed yourself–and then Steve–as best as you could before shifting the two of you beneath the hot stream of water and letting it pour over you.

Letting it hopefully wash away whatever horrors had been haunting Steve since he awoke this morning.

You waited for him to press a soft kiss to the side of your throat–his little cue that he was okay now, that he was ready for the shower to end.

Shooting him a soft smile, you raked your fingers through his drenched hair, pushing it back from his face and taking a moment to cradle his beardy cheek in your hand. You laughed as Steve eagerly nuzzled into your touch like a cat, his eyes twinkling at you, all lit up now and making your belly swoop as he turned to press a kiss to the center of your palm.

He followed you out of the tiny shower, watching patiently as you dried yourself first before using a second towel to dry him as well. You both knew that he could just as easily dry himself, but you also both enjoyed when you did it, further caretaking him in this small and intimate way.

Back to the bedroom the two of you returned, taking your time to get dressed, then to make the bed together. Then you were moving as one out into the kitchen to get the coffee machine brewing. 

You continued what had become your shared morning routine as you led Steve out through the sliding glass doors and onto the back deck of your home. It overlooked the small pond down at ground level, and the thick forest beyond, and you could see more tension ease from Steve’s broad shoulders as he sank down onto the padded lounger situated against the back wall of your cabin. 

This time, he was the one reaching for your hand, gentle as he tugged you down beside him, his thick arm curling around your shoulders and encouraging you close. 

You could feel him inhale the cold, fresh air deep into his lungs before breathing it out in a content sigh, and you smiled as you rested your head against the side of his chest. 

Nature always seemed to soothe Steve, and maybe that’s what brought him to you and your home in the first place. 

It soothed you, too. It’s why you moved all the way out here in the middle of nowhere, to leave your own ghosts behind and allow yourself a fresh start. 

It was almost poetic in a way, that you and Steve had found each other, had made this cozy, healing home together, each of you trying to move on from your own aftermath.

You let out your own content sigh at the thought, sinking more heavily against Steve as his hand gently rubbed up and down your arm. 

Even as the cool, winter air nipped at you through your layers and your warm breath puffed out before you in a cloud that just as quickly dissipated, you would sit outside with him and endure the chill for as long as he wanted. 

Because if there was one thing that Steve Rogers deserved, it was peace, and you were more than happy to give it to him any way that you could.

You were roused from sleep by the feeling of Steve jerking awake beside you in bed. 

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you watched as he pressed himself up on his elbows. The glow of the full moon hanging heavy outside limned the sharp cut of his jaw, and you could see the way he panted for breath, his nostril flaring as he glanced around the dark bedroom, disoriented.

You shifted, reaching toward the lamp on the nightstand beside you, but didn’t even get close to the switch before your wrist was grabbed and yanked backward, and you were suddenly pinned in bed beneath Steve’s large, heavy frame.

He still had that confused but feral look in his eye as he breathed hard, staring down at you in distrust.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, keeping your movements slow as you lifted your free hand to cup the side of his face. “You’re here with me, and you’re safe.”

For a moment, he just stared at you blankly. You felt your heart skitter in your chest at the way he was watching you, like you were completely unknown to him, and worse–like you were a threat.

Pushing past your fear, you gently caressed Steve’s face with your thumb. “Breathe,” you encouraged him, your knuckles soothing across his jaw.

Steve’s nostrils flared again as he breathed in deep, and you could see it–the moment your scent registered in his brain as familiar, as safe.

As home.

He shuddered hard, his weight sinking against you more heavily as his forehead dropped to yours.

“You’re okay, Steve,” you murmured against his lips, fingers scritching through his hair and making him shiver. “I’ve got you.”

He made a quiet, aborted noise in the back of his throat. Lifting his head, his haunted gaze bore into yours for a long, tense moment. Then he kissed you in this feral, desperate way that had you tasting his fear–and desperation–on your tongue. 

Something about your breathless gasps as you tried to keep up with the frantic onslaught of his lips had Steve grunting and leaning into that feralness–allowing it to consume him entirely and chase away the disturbing dregs of his nightmare that he couldn’t quite remember.

Between one needy kiss and the next, Steve had both of your wrists pinned to the bed at either side of your head with one of his hands. The other shoved between your bodies, yanking down his boxer briefs and tugging your panties aside so he could shove into you in one, long, hard thrust.

You whined against his jaw at the sudden intrusion, thankful that your body adjusted to him quickly, your pussy grower wetter than it already was and aiding the forceful thrusts of Steve’s cock as he frantically fucked you.

You whimpered at a particularly harsh plunge of his cock, your eyes nearly rolling back in your head as you shifted beneath him, tilting your hips and welcoming the relentless rut of his cock into the deep, tight depths of your cunt.

Trying to alleviate some of the pressure, the almost too much.

“You’re okay,” you breathed against Steve’s bristly cheek, pressing your face to his, trying to calm him–and his movements–in this way since you couldn’t touch him with your hands pinned. “I'm right here with you.” 

Grunting, Steve tucked his face against the crook of your neck, his thrusts no longer violent but seeking that blessed release all the same. 

He found it moments later, cumming inside of you with a quiet groan, his hips jerking against you–his cock twitching and flooding your pussy with his warm, sticky cum before he sagged against you, spent and panting against your skin.

Ignoring the way your own body was still buzzing–and unsatisfied–you nuzzled against the side of Steve’s face, feeling the way his breath quickly evened out as he came down from his high.

His grip on your wrists suddenly fell away, his hand cupping the crown of your head instead as he eased some of his weight off of you and guiltily met your gaze, his own eyes much more aware now.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough since it didn’t get much use, and it made your insides flutter to hear it.

It also confirmed Steve’s knowing that what had just happened was…a lot.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Steve’s gaze flickered away from yours, but his thumb stroked along your temple as he muttered, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you reassured him quickly.

His eyes returned to you then, uncertain, apologetic. “Promise?”

You gave him a small smile and nod. “I promise.”

Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Steve eased flush against you once more. He nuzzled his nose against yours, his lips catching on your own in a gentle, unhurried kiss. After a moment, his lips retreated from yours, trailing over to your cheek to press a kiss there before descending to kiss along your jaw.

“You always bring me back from the darkness, from the wrongness inside of me,” he whispered against your skin, pressing a chain of kisses down the length of your throat. 

He paused, resting his forehead against your shoulder as you gently rubbed his back. 

“It’s so easy to get lost in there, but you…” he shuddered, breath hitching before he continued, “You always help me find my way back, back to the light. Thank you.” 

He said it with so much emotion that your own eyes welled with tears and you hugged him as tightly as you could in this position.

Steve murmured another, “Thank you,” as he continued to press kisses along your throat, across the top of your chest. 

He only paused to tug your sleep shirt up and off your body. Making quick work of your panties too before he shifted lower and peppered your chest, then belly with more kisses. 

You squirmed as Steve hovered over your mound, his thumbs gently stroking along the creases of your thighs before he ducked low and kissed your clit.

Sinking back against the mattress with a gasp, you blindly reached for him, your fingers digging into the soft strands of Steve’s hair as he tugged your folds apart and slowly licked up the cut of you. 

Your loud moan only encouraged him, and soon he was eating your cunt in a way that was less about devouring and more about devotion. His lips and tongue worked in partnership to drive you over the edge you’d been teetering on since earlier, and you came with a soft cry of relief as pleasure flooded through your body and you writhed and rutted against Steve’s talented mouth.

You were still dazed as he shifted back up your body, settling between your thighs and guiding his hard cock to your still fluttering hole. 

Sighing as he speared into you–much slower and more gentle than before–you clung to Steve’s broad shoulders as he sank flush against your body and began to fuck you with shallow, intentional ruts.

His lips returned to their earlier fervor, planting little seeds of worship against any plane of skin he could reach as his pace picked up and his hand slid down your belly so he could strum your clit. 

You couldn’t stop sighing and gasping his name as he set your body alight from the inside out, and it wasn’t long at all before you toppled over the edge of bliss once more, entirely overwhelmed in the best way by Steve’s devotion to you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, his body rocking against yours more fervently now as he chased his own release. “And all mine,” he husked on a groan as he came, pumping you full of his seed for the second time that night.

You felt like you were glowing and floating at the same time, your body blissfully boneless as you laid pinned beneath Steve, enduring another slower round of his kisses as he nuzzled along your sweaty skin and barnacled to you like he never wanted to let you go.

A smile tilted your lips as you felt Steve settle his cheek against your bare chest. Your fingers found their way to his hair, gently stroking as the two of you enjoyed the quiet aftermath of your lovemaking.

Your touch trailed down the nape of Steve’s neck, to his shoulders, rubbing away some of the tension that had gathered there as you murmured for him to, “Sleep, handsome. I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

There was a long moment of silence before Steve replied, his voice sounding almost small as he whispered, “Promise?”

“I promise,” you answered without hesitation, ruffling your fingers through Steve’s hair, then trailing your knuckles along his cheek. 

You glanced down at him, seeing the hint of a sleepy smile curl his lips, and feeling your heart swell at the sight, then even more so as Steve released a shuddering exhale before sinking against you and resting at last. 

I just 😭😭😭 love him and them so hard. My emotionssssss.

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