~ Y/N’s just off a double shift at the E.R., exhausted and beat, when she comes across a broken stranger who needs more than just patching up… ~
Russell Shaw x Nurse!Reader
5, 777 Words
Warnings: Blood, Injury, Fixing of the Injury, Flirting, and Sex… NSFW
A Commissioned Story
Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works
Dead on her feet. That’s how she felt.
Fresh from pulling another double, Y/N could feel every second of her shifts. Every patient she’d seen weighed down on her shoulders, and every inch of her ached for rest. Every step from her car to the shop burned. She needed new shoes. No, she needed a month off her damned feet.
Rubbing her tired eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights of the convenience store, she made her way inside. Normally, she would have gone right home, but there was no milk. She grabbed a half gallon of skim and let the heavy glass door shut hard behind her.
A zombie. That’s what she must look like, she thought. A zombie in blue scrubs and a ratty old cardigan.
Y/N shuffled down the cramped aisle towards the register, but then spun back around. Coffee. She needed that too.
A small red can of Folgers tucked nicely into the crook of her elbow.
Shit. Also bread. Was there any food at home? Probably not. Crackers. Crackers are good. She needed to eat.
Arms now full with a carton of eggs, a box of fish crackers, a loaf of bread, coffee, and the milk she’d come in for, Y/N trudged down the aisle again. Only this time, the path was blocked by a large man in a green canvas jacket.
He was standing in the exact center of the walkway, picking out items from the first aid section. When Y/N approached, he startled a bit and turned to the side to let her by. His smile was tired but beautiful.
She ignored him and walked on. She was too exhausted for handsome strangers.
Haul piled on the high counter, Y/N waited while Charlie rang her up. The old man was always there, working just as many late nights as she did. Even though they never spoke beyond a nod hello and a quick goodnight, they were connected by the midnights they worked through. A brother in arms for the graveyard shift.
Halfway through, the stranger appeared at Y/N’s side, holding out an Ace bandage.
“Excuse me,” he said, begging Y/N’s pardon at the interruption. His voice was deep and rough, and he winced as if he were in pain. “Just wanna see- uh- is this all you got? I didn’t see any gauze or anything.”
Charlie looked at the man and then shrugged. “What you see is what we have.”
“Nothing hiding in the back?” he asked, leaning over the counter jokingly to peer behind it.
Charlie glared. The man sighed and took a step back.
“OK. Thanks.” He gave a little wave and a nod to Y/N, who was too tired to even smile back.
Any other night, she might have turned on a charming smile, given him more than a passing glance, but there was no spark in her. It had all been washed away by the forty gallons of hand sanitizer she’d employed that day. She was pretty sure she didn’t have fingerprints anymore, let alone a flirtatious hint in her body. He was cute, though.
He waited a step behind and to the right, not technically forming a line, but not technically crowding her. He bounced a bit, shifting his weight between both feet, anxious, it seemed.
Y/N gave him a side eye and noticed blood on his left hand. Following his arm upwards, there was more mess, as well as a ripped, bloodied hole in his jacket right above the elbow.
Bullet wound.
Ignore it.
You’re not at work.
He noticed her staring and quickly moved away, going back to the shelf to hide and pretend to be busy.
Y/N sighed. It wasn’t her problem. If he needed help, he could go to the E.R. like everyone else. But she knew he wouldn’t. Not if he was searching for medical supplies at 3 am at a gas station in the middle of nowhere.
Another sigh.
It’s not your problem, Y/N. Just go home and go to bed.
Charlie finished ringing her up, and Y/N tapped her debit card on the reader. Transaction complete. Back to the car. Only-
Shaking her head and clutching the thin handles of her shopping bag, she went back to the blockaded aisle and tapped the man on the shoulder.
He turned, eyes wide. “Hi.”
Green eyes. Beautiful.
Y/N tried not to stare or come off as weird. She cleared her throat. “If you need some help…”
He shook his head right away. “No, no. I’m good.” He looked her over, noting the scrubs. “Wouldn’t want to put you out.”
Y/N smiled softly. Charming, too.
“Oh, I’m not gonna do anything,” she clarified. “I’m off duty. But I have a first aid kit in my car. I can lend you some sterile bandages. Some… alcohol to clean up.”
He sighed, grateful. “That’d be amazing. Thank you.”
She didn’t feel nervous until they left the imagined safety of the blaring fluorescents. Suddenly, it was very clear that she was leading a bleeding stranger to her car in the middle of the night. She had pepper spray in the glovebox, but it wasn’t much help at the moment.
He kept a decent distance, however, walking slowly behind. He seemed to know how big he was and how scary the situation could be.
Her car was a mess, but she found the kit easily and dug out a handful of alcohol wipes and a roll of gauze.
“This should hold you over till you get where you’re going,” she said with a kind smile.
He took the supplies, careful not to touch her hand, and gave a little head bow. “Thank you, so much, uh-”
She debated giving her name, but as she’d never see him again, it didn’t much matter.
“Y/N”, she said softly.
He smiled. Plump lips and perfect teeth. He was certainly something.
“Y/N,” he echoed. “I’m Russell. And I thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” Before any real conversation could reel her in, Y/N grabbed the rest of her kit from the hood and walked to the driver's side. “Good luck.”
Russell nodded again and thanked her. She watched from behind the wheel as he set up the supplies on the hood of his own car a few yards away.
He shrugged off the torn jacket.
She started the engine.
He cringed in pain as he peeled off a blood-soaked bandage, revealing a deep wound.
She shook her head and buckled up. Not your problem.
He tried to open an alcohol pad but his hands were shaking and it fell to the ground.
She gagged when he picked it up and ripped it open with his teeth. Ignore it.
He opened the gauze and it fell as well, unrolling across the filthy gravel and tar.
When he bent to pick it up and expose his fresh, gaping wound to all the disease the world could concentrate on the ground of a gas station parking lot, Y/N groaned loudly and ripped herself out of the car, storming over to him.
“Stop!”
He froze, gauze hovering over his arm.
She ripped the contaminated fabric from his hand and he looked down at her, stunned but amused.
“You’re gonna get so infected they’ll have to amputate.”
“The whole arm?” he teased. “Just for this? I’ve had worse.”
Y/N sighed and leaned in, squinting at the wound. It wasn’t too bad, but it needed cleaning. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen worse, too. Still…”
She stood up and glared at him, evaluating.
Army jacket. Ripped jeans. Muddy boots. Dirt on his hands, a little on his cheek. He was in rough shape but he didn’t appear to be intoxicated in any way. On the contrary, he seemed more alert than she felt. Despite the long hair, his beard was trimmed and he seemed somewhat put together. Just a guy in a bad situation. Still, if he wasn’t in some kind of trouble, he would have gone to the hospital. Gun shots get reported, so clearly that was out of the question for him.
Why?
Does it matter? He needs help.
Russell wet his cracked lips with a hint of pink tongue and began to dissuade her from helping. “Listen, I got this, and-”
Y/N laughed. A little delirious, but kind. “No, you absolutely do not got this.” She rubbed at her temples and then shook her head as she spun on her heel. “Follow me and I’ll get you fixed up.”
She took a step towards her car and heard his boot thud behind her. She paused.
“Follow me with your car. I’m not letting you in mine. I don’t know you.”
He smirked. “But you’ll bring me back to your house.”
“You don’t know where I’m taking you,” she snapped back. “Maybe I’m leading you to jail.”
He nodded, accepting the possibility. “True. Even still, aren’t you worried about having a random guy follow you around in the middle of the night? I got a bullet in my arm, I can’t be that safe.”
His words were serious but colored with a flirtatious tease. She sucked her teeth and tried not to smile too hard.
“I can take care of myself.”
“You sure?”
Y/N laughed. “Are you trying to talk me out of helping you?”
Russell laughed and then hissed as the movement pulled at his arm. He covered the wound with his right hand and looked down at the mess. His expression turned serious and his voice dropped a bit. “I’d be real grateful for the help, Y/N. Thank you.”
She took one last moment to look him over and then sighed. “Well, let’s go then. It’s not far, but the back roads can be tricky when you don’t know where you’re going.” She walked off, leaving the stranger by his car, long dark hair haloed by the lights above. “Try to keep up.”
Russell grinned and yanked his car door open. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Y/N washed her hands and splashed some water on her face. She spared only a moment in the mirror- she was a mess. Zombie was the right word to describe the exhaustion evident on her face. She slapped her cheeks to wake herself up and pulled on a clean shirt that didn’t smell like a hospital, a pair of shorts that let her breathe. She pulled her medical bag from beneath the sink and set out to find Russell pacing her tiny living room.
He looked huge in the small space. The apartment wasn’t miniature by any terms, but it was small and cozy. He looked like he’d be more comfortable out in nature; probably lived in a tent in the woods. She tried to focus on him being a mountain man in the woods and not the way he looked without the oversized jacket on. He was as solid as a wall but much more muscular. She held her breath and took him all in.
Not realizing she had returned, Russell continued nosing around for a minute. He bent over to look at a photo on the end table and smiled.
“That was my first car,” she explained, nodding towards the photo when he sprang up. “Ran it into a ditch during a hurricane the next summer.”
Russell stood up, brows raised in interest. “Really?”
She laughed. “No.”
“You’re funny,” he laughed, shaking his head at himself. “Where do you want me, doc?”
Y/N pulled a chair up to the side of the little red sofa and patted the cushion as she sat. “That’s Nurse Y/N, to you, sir.”
He grinned. “My apologies.”
As aware of the state of his jeans and worried for her sofa, he hovered a bit before sitting. She waved away his concern.
“It’s old,” she told him. “Don’t worry about it.”
Russell held his arm towards her. “Good thing it’s red, huh?”
She laughed and gently lifted his sleeve to get a good look. “Oh, you won’t be bleeding all over my couch. I’d have to end you.”
“Really? Means that much to you that you’d take a life?”
She looked up and bit back a smile. He’s really kind of pretty.
“I will have you know that that is the most comfortable sofa in the tri-county area. It’s been scientifically proven.”
He sat fully. “I’ll letcha know.”
Y/N tugged on his sleeve again and he hissed at the pain.
“Yeah.” She sat back and clapped her hands on her thighs. “Shirt off.”
Russell gave her a tiny smirk and then sat forward. He tried to pull the tee off from the bottom, but his arm was screaming in pain and he froze.
Y/N reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of shears. “I can help…”
He gasped in mock horror. “You’re not cuttin’ this shirt up. I’d have to end you.”
She laughed. “Means that much to you that you’d take a life?”
He paused and their eyes locked. For a moment, darkness flashed in his gorgeous green eyes, scaring Y/N just a bit.
For her, it had been a joke. She saved lives.
For him, it was real. He’d taken lives.
She swallowed hard and put the scissors back in their place deep inside the bag.
Russell cleared his throat, pushing the moment away, and reached behind him with his good hand. Up and over his head with a groan, the tee was soon gone.
“Better?”
Y/N tried not to gawk at him. She’d seen a thousand men naked, but he was truly beautiful. Covered in freckles like some sort of constellation map, his chest and back were soft yet clearly strong. She cleared her throat and focused her eyes on the wounded arm. Right above the bullet hole were tattoos: fine lines and shading, a knotted rope, a bird in flight. They were somehow unexpected yet perfectly him.
“Yeah. That’ll work,” she replied, pulling her eyes from his pert little nipples and thick shoulders. “OK, this might hurt.”
Russell smirked. “I can handle it.” The instant the alcohol soaked pad hit his arm, he shouted like a child and went stiff, forcing himself not to jerk away. “OK, maybe not.”
“The sting is good,” she said softly. “Means it’s working.”
Russell’s upper lip curled, and he clenched his teeth tightly while she worked, gingerly cleaning around the wound. “Awesome.”
“I love the ink,” she said, hoping to distract him. “The bird is beautiful. What’s it mean?”
Russell craned his neck to look at the image on his shoulder and smiled. “Ah, that’s another story from another life.”
“Got a lot of those, I bet.”
“More than you’d believe.”
A sharp pain shot up his arm as Y/N pressed on the wound. He sucked in a hard breath and held it for a second before puffing up his cheeks and exhaling in a whistle.
“Fuck!”
Y/N clicked her tongue and sat back for a moment. “Yeah. So…”
“There a problem?” He looked down at the blood and then back up at her. “Am I gonna lose the arm, doc?”
She laughed despite the situation. “No. But-”
“I don’t like buts…”
“OK. How about… No, however-”
“Little better. Go on.”
“I think you’ve got a shard stuck in you.”
Russell hissed. “That ain’t great.”
“No,” she agreed with a sigh, “it ain’t.”
He took another deep breath, letting his cheeks bulk out again. It would have been cute if not for the sting of pain in his eyes. “Can you get it out?”
Y/N chewed her bottom lip and confessed: “I’m not even technically supposed to do stitches…”
“Come on, we’ve come this far.” He pleaded, green eyes gorgeously adept at begging. “You know how to, right?”
Her stomach flipped, but she steadied herself with a canine tooth to the tongue. “Well, yes, but I don’t have any anesthetic and… you’d be better off going to the-”
Russell stiffened, shoulders lifting almost to his ears. “I can’t go to the ER.”
“Why? What’d you do?”
“Nothing. I didn’t- Just help me out, Y/N. Please.”
He’s really good at that.
Her lips fell into a stern line. “Why should I? I don’t even know you. I’m endangering my medical license right now.”
He grinned at her overexaggeration. “Well, you didn’t have to take me home either, but you did. Why stop now?”
“You’re answering my question with a question.”
He leaned over a bit, invading her space. “I’m good at diversion,” he whispered and winked.
“You are,” she agreed, mirroring his lean in. She dropped her voice too, whispering: “Luckily, I’m good at dissection.”
He chuckled around a moment of fear. “Dissection?”
Y/N grabbed his arm firmly and looked him in the eye. “Hold still. This will absolutely hurt.”
He took it like a champ, holding on as long as he could. Russell gritted his teeth, roared in agony, and even punched his leg so hard it bruised. But, in the end, he didn’t see the tiny piece of metal release from his flesh. He didn’t feel Y/N pull the thin black thread through his skin and weave the ends closed, didn’t flinch when she washed it all down with antiseptic again, didn’t whine when she wrapped him up.
He was out cold.
She checked his vitals twice before draping an old blanket over his chest and grabbing the TV remote. Sleep was calling to her, but she needed to unwind for a moment, to sit back in her chair and let the screen erase the day. She just needed to relax for a few minutes.
A few minutes turned into more, though she had no idea just how long she’d been out. When she opened her eyes, she saw that she was not the only one awake.
Russell was still on her couch, still bare-chested and covered by her grandmother’s quilt, but he had flipped around. He was stretched out as best he could be, his feet near her head, and his head by her feet. He was propped up on a few pillows and he stared unabashedly at her sleepy face.
“Good morning,” he said, voice cracking just enough to make it endearing.
Sexy, even, she thought.
Y/N rubbed at her eyes and sat up. “I can’t believe I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I passed out on ya. Let’s call it even.” He winked, somehow with both eyes, and smiled.
Morning was creeping around the edges of the room, passing through the blinds in sheets of gilded orange light. It struck him just so, casting a glow on his handsome face, illuminating shots of gray in his beard, a few extra lines on his face she hadn’t noticed in the dark.
He was perfection.
“Deal.”
Russell tried to sit up but the quick move pulled at his injured arm. He winced and Y/N sat forward, watching the pain spread across his features.
“You OK?”
He licked his lips and exhaled hard. “Oh, I’ll be fine. Just hurts like hell.”
“It’s gonna,” she told him, “I had to dig in there pretty deep.” Popping up with all the energy of a sleeping puppy, she headed into the kitchen. “You bled all over the couch, by the way…”
He watched her disappear into the other room, heard a cabinet open and close.
“Sorry ‘bout that. You can forward me the dry cleaning bill.” He sat up carefully, shifted in the seat.
Y/N filled a glass from the faucet and her hand from a pill bottle. “Oh, trust me, I will. Had that thing since college. My sister gave birth to quintuplets on it.”
Russell cringed and looked down at the ruby sofa, trying to find the exact spot where life had ruined the fabric. “Really?”
She reappeared with a laugh. “No. Ew.” She handed him the glass of water and turned her hand to drop the pills into his palm. “Take two of these and call me in the morning.”
He took a drink and looked down at the yellow tablets. “What are they?”
“You think I’m trying to roofie you? I already had you passed out, I don’t need to do it again.”
She winked.
He felt the familiar pull of desire.
“It’s antibiotics. Take them.”
He shrugged and swallowed them down. “Don’t happen to have any painkillers, do you?”
Y/N shook her head. “Just ibuprofen. Sorry.” He went to put the glass down on the floor but she tapped it and shook her head. “Drink it all. You’re dehydrated.”
Russell smirked over the rim. “Sure thing, doc.”
He tipped the glass back and drank greedily. She couldn’t keep herself from staring at the thick line of his throat as he swallowed.
He looks like a statue come to life.
Y/N quickly looked away as he finished, praying he didn’t catch her stare.
“So, where did your sister give birth?” he teased, handing her the glass.
Y/N laughed and took the cup. “Oh. No sister.”
“Brother?”
She walked to the kitchen and set the glass down in the sink. “Nope. You?”
“Both.”
“That must be fun,” she said, returning to her chair. “Nice big family.”
He laughed sadly. “Used to be.”
“Not anymore?”
“We’re not… as close as we used to be,” he admitted.
Y/N sat back and studied him. He seemed sad, tired. He closed his eyes as if lost in a memeory. His lashes were long and thick; they skirted the tops of his cheeks like an ornate fan. So pretty.
“When did you see them last?” she asked, pulling her attention from his eyes to his lips. Mistake.
Russell motioned to his bandaged arm.
She caught his drift. “Ah. Fun times.”
He laughed. “Yeah. So fun.”
With a sigh, he leaned back. Immedietaly, he regretted it and sucked in an angry breath through his teeth. “Fucking hell!”
Y/N cringed. “Is it really bad?”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. Also, the tape is pulling on it and-”
She stood up and went to his side. “Well, that we can fix.”
She sat close and he leaned in unintentionally. He took a breath and calmed. She smelled like berries.
“Is that- blueberry?” he asked, sniffing her closer.
Confused, she pulled back and squinted at him. “What? Oh!” She laughed. “Yeah, it’s my hand soap. I splurge on fancy ones at home since I’m constantly using industrial-smelling stuff at work.” She lifted her fingers between them and smiled. “You like?”
He leaned in and closed his eyes as he took another whiff. His lips were terribly close to her hand and she tensed up.
“Smells like blueberry pie,” he said with a wistful exhale.
“Close. Cobbler.”
He grinned. “I knew it.”
God, he’s hot.
She knew she was hovering too close, but she couldn’t pull back. His skin was imminating a heat that should have made her assume a fever, but all she felt was desire. She wanted to feel that heat all through her.
“You smell so-”
He licked his lips again and Y/N panicked. She ripped the tape off with a quick flick of her wrist, taking a little skin and hair with it.
“Fuck!” Russell jerked away and grabbed his elbow, cradling the wounded arm.
She kicked herself. “Sorry!” Leaning down, she got close and puckered her lips. She exhaled a cool breath over the inflamed skin and Russell let out a comforted sigh. “Better?”
He hummed like he’d just tasted the sweetest elixir and her heart skipped. He tipped his head back against the sofa and her thighs clenched. She blew another cool breath and received another satisfied hum. Her head spun and without thinking, she pressed her lips to his arm, landing in the tight space between the wound and the his tattoo. The kiss was slow and warm and Russell let out a moan.
Realizing what she’d done, Y/N backed away quickly. Embarrassment burned her cheeks. She stumbled. “I-I’m sorry. Oh my god. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.”
Russell rolled his head to the side to look at her flustered face. He grinned. “You’ve got some amazing bedside manner, doc.”
She felt dizzy. He wasn’t upset. He liked it. He wanted it. He wanted her. Is this what swooning feels like?
She shook herself. “Yeah, well, not every patient gets this kinda treatment.”
Russell dipped his chin and gazed up through his incredibly thick lashes. “I would hope not.”
She took a breath but he stole it.
Reaching over with his good hand, Russell caught the back of her neck in a soft yet insistant grip and pulled her close. He kissed her lips and everything outside of the tiny livingroom faded into oblivion. Her lips parted and he went in, slipping his hot tongue inside and humming at her taste.
She shivered. “Fuck…”
He let her lips go, but kept his hand on the nape of her neck.
“You’re something special, Y/N,” he whispered.
She trembled. Desire, fear, and amazement swirled in her chest. “You think so?” She could barely hear herself over the blood soaring through her head, but he heard it. He smiled.
“Smart, beautiful nurse with a hell of a sense of humor who takes home strays to clean up?” He laughed. “Sure sounds special to me.” His hand slid forward and his thumb danced over her cheek. “Sounds pretty amazing, actually.”
Her vision was blurred, her ears were ringing. “You’re trouble, aren’t you, Russell?”
“You could say that.” He grinned and plucked at her lips with his big thumb. “Are you the kinda girl that likes trouble?”
She exhaled every bit of air in her body and fell forward onto his firm chest. “Yeah, I think I am…”
It was all heavy breaths and long, deep kisses. His hands felt huge and warm as they tucked beneath her shirt, slid easily into her shorts, hunted every curve and valley. He was skilled but in no rush. Calloused fingers carressed her soft skin like time had no meaning, like they could lay on that couch for the rest of eternity.
She wouldn’t mind if they did.
But it wasn’t enough.
Tearing herself away from his lips, she took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom.
The light was blocked by thick curtains and they stumbled into the dark, tripping over scattered clothes and a pillow that she’d kicked away the night before and forgotten to rescue. The bed was a mess, blankets and sheets barely clinging to the mattress, but it didn’t matter.
Russell spun her around and crushed her against him while licking deep into her mouth. She felt dazed, breathless as he tugged at her shirt. One handed, he lifted the cotton and kissed his way down to her breasts, falling slowly to his knees as he went. His lips were fire on her nipples, his tongue like a bolt of lightning. She reached down for him, wanting his lips once more, but he stayed in place, refusing her pull.
Instead, his hands ran up her bare legs, sending shivers through her. She bit her lip when his fingers grabbed the hem of her shorts, gasped when he tugged them down.
She held her breath as he kissed her stomach, plump lips meeting plump flesh, wet and warm. He looked up in the dark, eyes lidded with heavy desire. She pushed a hand through his hair and his jaw went slack in a silent moan as her nails scraped his scalp. She nodded. He hooked his fingers into the elastic of her panties and pulled downward.
He spread her legs with his broad shoulders, nearly knocking her off balance. She leaned back onto the bed as he kissed her thighs, let her head fall while he moved closer to her aching pussy.
He exhaled against her and she thought she would die if he didn’t go faster.
Russell was still in no rush.
He had nowhere to be, and there was nothing more he wanted to be doing.
He dragged his middle finger slowly through her slit and Y/N gasped. She bit down hard onto her lip and held her breath as he spread her gently and kissed her clit.
“Oh, god…”
He smirked against her wetness and hummed as her taste flooded his mouth. He licked a long line up and then dipped inside, driving her insane.
“Please…”
His rumbling humming and deep grunts echoed through her, vibrating every cell, setting every nerve ending on fire. Her thighs clamped around his head, her body clenched on his tongue. She twisted with pleasure and tried to squirm away when it was too much.
He wouldn’t let her go.
Even in pain, with one arm practically useless, Russell held her in place. He wouldn’t let her shy away, refused to let her hold back.
When she came it was fast and jarring. Her hips bucked and her legs trembled as if she were shocked by paddles, her heart out of rhythm, her mind all but shattered. She grabbed at him, yanked at his hair, caught hold of his ears and pulled.
He relented, letting her pull him up her body. He dragged his lips the entire way up, pausing to nip at her hip and scrape his perfect teeth over her nipple. She allowed these little detours, too awash in pleasure to focus.
When he reached her mouth, he licked into it and she sucked her taste from his tongue. He fell into kissing her, breathing deep, tugging on her lips, filling her with his fire.
She dragged her hands down his chest and tucked them into his jeans. The belt opened easily, his zipper fell without issue. A momentary struggle to kick everything away and he was back in her arms, crushing her into the mattress with his full weight. She moaned as the breath left her body and fit her legs snug around his waist.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered, lips teasing her ear.
She clawed at his back and rocked her hips, rubbing herself over his stiff cock. It nudged at her clit and her jaw dropped. He took over, rolling his body against her as she gasped again. Her nails dug into his back and he bit down on her shoulder as he fit inside. He moved in slowly, stretching her open bit by bit until she felt more full, more whole than she had in ages.
Russell cringed as he set both hands by her head. His arm was killing him, but she was too beautiful, too intoxicating to pull away from. He’d deal with the pain if it meant making her scream his name. He’d rip the stitches if he meant he got to feel her cum on his cock. He’d bleed out if it would make her smile at him like he was the only man in the world.
He got his wish.
Y/N clung to him, unable to let go as he fucked into her slowly. Every roll of his hips was a languid drag of his cock inside, pulling out gently only to slam back in deeper than before. His hips snapped against her and the wetness poured from her cunt. She shuddered around him, holding her breath as the pleasure crested. He licked at her lips as she came and her exhale carried his name like a prayer.
He wanted to make it last forever, to drag out the moment until the earth stopped spinning, but she was too perfect. She kissed him too hard, held on too tight. Her skin was too soft, her body too yeilding to his touch.
When he heard his name rolling so incredibly off her tongue, he lost control. He came with a deep, stuttering grunt and let go, unable to hold off or even pull out in time.
He grit his teeth and she pulled him down. He collapsed into her arms and she kissed his breath away.
“Fuck,” he panted. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t- I couldn’t stop-”
She laughed sweetly and brushed the damp hair from his brow. “You’re good. I didn’t want you to.”
He sighed and rolled onto his back. His heart was racing, his arm throbbing, but all else was right in the world.
Y/N laid where he left her, staring at the ceiling in hazy amazement.
“That was… incredible.”
She bit back a shy, awkward laugh at his praise.
“Just so you’re aware,” she said, turning ontoo her side to look down at him. His face was gorgeously relaxed, his chest perfectly covered in sweat. She wanted to kiss every inch of him and keep him locked away forever. “I don’t do this every night.”
He laughed. “Shame. You’re very good at it.”
She echoed his amusement. “No, I mean… Take home strange men and let them cum inside of me.”
“Ah. That.” He wiped a hand down his face, scratched absently at his jaw. “Well, I am honored.”
She hid her smile in a kiss that stirred his desire again. She was dangerous. He needed to leave.
“Can I call you sometime?” he asked out of nowhere.
She haden’t expected to ever see him again, so the idea that he would call was laughable. She held back, however and scooted down to the edge of the bed.
“You really gonna do that?”
He shrugged and popped up on his good elbow as she stood to get to the bathroom. Her ass was biteable, but he kept his cool.
“You got me,” he confessed. “Probably not.”
Y/N grabbed her shirt from the floor and tugged it over her head. “How about this…” One foot out of the door, she turned to look at him. “If you ever find yourself in this neck of the woods with a hole that shouldn’t be there, feel free to stop by.”
She winked.
He grinned. “Deal.”
She ripped her eyes away. If she kept staring, she’d run back into his arms and spend the next twenty years trying to keep him smile like that. “Good.”
She stepped into the hallway, out of harm’s way. Her heart was racing and her body was thrumming. It was heaven.
As she stopped to catch her breath, she looked back. He was still watching, staring with a sadness in his eyes as she walked away.
He was trouble. The kind of trouble she could fall in love with too easily.
Thankfully, she thought, she’d never see him again…
Pyramid head is FASCINATING because he is actually quite beloved in the fanbase and a huge part is (i believe) because in the first game the character you play as is just such a massive asshole. And I think in two as well? But 1 for sure. He's horrible. When you find out Why hes being tormented by PH you kinda just end up going "Ohhhh hahah good :3". He acts as the representation of every awful horrible thing the MC is and does.
HOWEVER. IN THE SILENT HILL MOVIE. THE FIRST ONE. THE GREAT ONE. HE'S ALMOST LIKE AN ANGEL. He's sort of seen as a defender of the broken and hurt and mistreated. He kills a bitch because she's throwing rocks at a very unwell and sort of broken woman. He acts as a protector and a wraith.
PH is *only* from Silent Hill 2 originally, and his presence in any other SH media makes no sense in lore, because he is the embodiment of James', and only James', desire to be punished, because what he did fundimentally broke him as a person. He's not just a punisher, he's the punisher James thinks he deserves. The key part you're missing about it, is that James is wrong about that.
James isn't just an asshole, he's honestly not even that bad a guy. He's anyone in his situation. He's a man pushed to the limits of what a person can take, and when he snapped, an eldritch god decided his trauma was so delicious it made him have to live through a survival horror experience about it.
Later, because Konami is Konami, they just used him because he was iconic, but neither he nor James are just one note. Hell, when James finally comes to terms with it all, finally lets it go like he honestly deserves to at that point, the Pyramid Heads (multiple) kill themselves, because he doesn't need them anymore. All that externalized hare for himself is internal, so these burdened torturers can finally die.
Edit: In addition, replying to talking about the sword in the video. The sword is suicidal ideation. Pyramid Head has the sword because in the opening of the game, he takes the knife from a woman thinking of killing herself. Only then does PH show up with the sword. When James gives the knife back to her later, PH rolls up with a spear instead (because phallic). The sword might as well have KYS on it in big, neon letters.
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