It would be utterly embarrassing for any man in his mid thirties to admit that he was a quivering pussy when it came to anything remotely intimate with anyone.

Blood? Fine. Taking someone's life with his bare hands? Sure. Someone kicking in all his teeth? Bring it on, bitch. Someone wanting to touch him... That wasn't something Ghost was equipped for. Simon was starved of any and all things close to affection growing up and never got the chance to reach out and try to take it before it was all crushed at the hands of Roba and his hook. Neither version of his curated self could deal with it.

He tried, of course. Of course he tried, mainly after too much adrenaline after a mission sending the blood to the wrong place, put any time he tried to make it feel good like he heard it was supposed to feel, that feeling of pure horror crept up on him in a way that someone of his status shouldn't feel. No, best leave it, itll go away on its own.

It was fine for a while until you decided to worm your way past any guard he put up to keep himself safe. You were always the bold one out of the two of you, he liked that about you, he loved it. You never pushed him to do anything, he loved that too.

You were lying in his lap as you kissed him, it seemed to be the routine for you both to just lie together and kiss- it was the best. You moved first.

Your hips ground down against his where they met, gentle and muffled through both your clothes but he felt it hard and he almost sobbed from the panic and he couldn't even articulate why. God...