If you've found me for the first time, welcome to my special circle of hell~ I am committed to my sinful ways and cannot be saved rofl.
If you're already acquainted with my AO3 shenanigans (or my brief time on TikTok), hello again lol.
Yes, I'm late to the Tumblr party. But hush I'm here now, okay? 🤣 I suffer from severe brainrot, and the only cure is writing CoD fanfics. All of my completed stuff is already on my AO3, but I'll be gradually reposting them here, too.
MDNI (I mean it 🙅♀️🚫 no meddling kids, I will yeet your ass!)
Heed all warnings pls 🙏🥹
Will write: age gap, bdsm, s/omno, n/oncon, c/nc, yandere, ddlg, daddy k!nk, etc.
Will not write: gore, n/cest, watersports, etc.
My AO3 can be found ✨️ here ✨️
Any ans all of my personal/non-fanfic posts will be under the tag ✨️ #personal shit ✨️
Angst: ☂️
Dark (dead dove: do not eat, s/omno, n/oncon, c/nc, impact): ⚠️
Ddlg/ageplay: 🎀
Fluff: ☁️
Smut: 🌶
Mine | Soap, OC ☁️🌶
You Have Something I Want (YHSIW) | König, Ghost, Reader
Migraines are so funny because my head hurts so imma sit in bed in the dark, but I’m bored so I go on tumblr but the lights hurt my head so I listen to a podcast but the noise hurts my head, so I sit in silence but thoughts hurt my head
I know it's just a typo of "perish" and SWEAR I'm not trying to make light of migraines. They're fr the worst.
But PLS
I cannot stop picturing a world where the only known remedy for migraines is to become the physical embodiment of an entire ecclesiastical district 💀💀💀
If it isn't me making my traditional pilgrimage to the bottom of the fucking barrel 🙃 Should've known things were going suspiciously well lately. 'Tis the season, ig...
Adorable Ghost, Adorable Reader, (I'm not saying anything else because the rest is a surprise lol)
Seriously, thank all of you so much for your support and enthusiasm. This was my first ever real story and I wasn't sure how it was going to play out. I just wanted to scratch out my smutty drabbles and let them float away on the internet. I never knew folks would actually read my stuff, let alone enjoy it! But literally from day one, you guys showed up and showed tf out lol. And I can't thank you enough. Y'all are the fuel to my writing choo choo train and that train is gonna keep on chugging! Thank y'all for everything! And if there's every a story idea you wanna drop in my insta or want to get in line for a commission, drop me a message! Even if you just wanna chat or play videogames together, I'm down.
All my love,
DumpsterFireDaydreams
Reader POV:
Many years later,...
"Princess?" Simon called from across the front yard, scanning the area for any sign of you. "Where are you hiding?"
After all these years, he still called you "princess". Others called their other half "babe" or "honey". But you were his little princess and always would be. While you might have grown a bit older, the loving term never did. It made your heart flutter just as strongly as it always had. The only person whose title had changed was his. You still stuck to "Ghost" when you weren't alone. But at your home in the countryside, you only called him Simon. Your Simon.
"I'm over here!" You shouted back from the car port, peeking your head out from behind the bumper of the pickup truck to wave him down.
Simon jogged over to where you sat, hunched over the open hood of an old pickup truck. Your hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and all manner of car fluids stained your hands.
"What the hell are you doing out here?" He asked, genuinely surprised. "Gave me a real scare when I couldn't find you inside."
"Sorry. I'm just tinkering," you chirped, patting the other half of your work bench. "How was work?"
He happily sank down on the seat beside you, stretching a bit. "Ah, you know. Same old, same old. Rookies who need to slow down and master the basics, veterans that need reminders on how things are done, and the regulars who always manage to get into some kinda trouble no matter what I say. Same story every day without fail."
As much as he complained about it, you knew he loved what he did. Even though he'd stepped down for the taskforce a few years ago, he never really left his training behind. And a local paintball team had practically begged him to step in as their head coach. It was a happy middle ground for both of you though. He got the rush of battlefield strategy and waging war. You got the benefit of him coming back home splattered with brightly colored paint instead of blood. It was a win-win all around.
"Are the guys really going to come buy and show them how the pros do it? Because if they do, I wanna watch."
"Yeah, they should all be coming down next weekend. Figured it'll give them a good bit of fun for once."
You paused, quickly counting on your fingers to do a headcount. "How many am I cooking for again? Well, just tell me who is gonna make it so I can know what to make for everybody."
"Price is definitely coming. Soap said he wouldn't miss this for the whole world. And I just know he's bouncing off the walls with excitement already."
"I have no doubts about that," you laughed, shaking your head. "Please remind him some of these players are kids. The last thing we need is some angry parent mad that he took a mug shot at their little angel."
You could picture the scenario all too easily. Soap crouched behind a corner, smirking mischievously as he waited for an unsuspecting opponent to wander his way. And the second someone did, he'd pop out and send paint pellets splattering across the front of their mask. You could practically hear his raucous laughter just imagining it.
"He'll be fine," Simon huffed, waving his hand. "Don't let his cover fool you. No matter how old he gets, I swear he's just an oversized kid himself by the way he acts sometimes. They'll probably love him the most."
"True. So Price and Soap. Anyone else?"
"Alejandro is still back home visiting his girl, but he said he should make it here just in time. And König and Ida are flying in from overseas to see everyone. Figured we'd make a 141 family reunion out of it."
"König and Königin, you mean."
Simon rolled his eyes at the correction. "Ida, Königin, same difference. Their callsigns are too damn similar and it's confusing."
Though it had been pretty confusing at first, you thought the matching callsigns were adorable. After König had settled down back home, he'd reconnected with an old flame from his special forces days. And when he'd brought her to meet the rest of the team, they lovingly called her Königin. And it made sense why they had. If "König" meant king and she was his partner, it only made sense to give her the German title for queen. It fit her too. Because though she was a force to be reckoned with in the field, Ida carried herself with a soft gracefulness in peacetime. You'd finally gotten to meet her the last time you and Simon had visited his old base. And she was such a sweetheart. The same loving tenderness König exuded was evident in her too. And König looked genuinely happy. He had a new air of peace and calm about him. Even confidence! And you were happy for him too.
Everyone had shown up to their wedding, Soap eager to lead the rowdy reception. She invited you to stand by her side as a part of her bridal party and you happily accepted. And when you and Simon tied the knot a few years afterwards, the whole team regrouped all over again for the celebration. If someone had told you that the gruff, skull-faced lieutenant would one day be your husband, you never would have believed them. And if they had told you König was destined to be his best man, standing by his side for support as he recited his heartfelt vows to you, you would have thought they were insane! But after the dust had settled from when the two of you had parted ways, you and König were quick to resume a close friendship. And when your wedding day arrived, König and Ida were right there by your side to ensure everything was perfect for your special day.
It was always so nice to have everyone back together again. Any excuse to get the family all in one place was never wasted. Though years had spread them all apart distance-wise, their shared bonds continued to remain strong as ever. Like a true family should.
"Hmmm," you pursed your lips, deep in thought. "Maybe I should make something simple that everyone would actually eat. Hot dogs and hamburgers? I'll man the grill!"
"Oh, no you don't," Simon laughed. "You combined with open flame? I don't know if I like the sound of that."
"Aw, come on! I've been working on this truck all afternoon and it's still in one piece!"
Simon tilted his head, studying your work. Though he was hesitant, he couldn't argue with what he saw. Everything you'd done in the engine bay was carried out just as he would have done them himself. Your hands were hopelessly dirty, but your handiwork was impeccable by his standards.
"That's a fair point," he nodded, clearly impressed. "But what made you wanna get your hands dirty with this thing again? You decide to give the old fella another go?"
"Yeah. I really wanna figure him out and finally get him on the road again," you sighed. "After errands, I got a bit restless and wanted something fun to do."
Simon chuckled, a soft smile spreading across his face. "You call this old piece of junk fun?"
"Shhh! Don't say that!" you giggled. "You'll hurt his feelings!"
"He can consider it payback for hurting my feelings all these years. Breaking down at the worst times and all that nonsense. But if he doesn't like it, he's more than welcome to start up anytime he wants."
You patted the side of the car lovingly. "He will! He's just a late bloomer. But he'll grow up big and strong, just like his daddy."
Ghost laughed, shaking his head. As he did, his brown strands caught in the breeze, the wind tussling them up a bit. It seemed another haircut was in order. No matter how many times you nudged him to let it grow out, Simon was firmly stuck in his ways. He didn't need any fuss over his looks. Just a kitchen chair and the steady hum of the clippers in your hand was heaven enough for him.
"Besides," he'd always say. "No one's gonna see it under the mask."
And he was right. It wouldn't show then. But over the years, that mask was another layer of himself he'd shed when it was just the two of you. He'd still pull it out every now and then for some sexy fun. But for the most part, it sat idle on the mantle beside his death certificate until it was needed again.
They were small steps to most people: using his name and baring his face. But for him, you knew they were huge. Without those barriers between him and the outside world, he was vulnerable. He was unguarded. He was human. And it touched you to see him gradually grow comfortable enough to be so vulnerable around you. He always protected you from physical threats or danger without fail. But it was your greatest honor to protect the tender heart he'd kept hidden for so long.
"I know you love working on this thing," he said, rubbing your back. "But are you sure it's worth the effort? We already have my jeep and it runs just fine. We could probably make a decent chunk of change selling this old thing for scraps."
"No," you smiled, but your voice was firm as you shook your head. "We're not selling it, Simon. We need it!"
You let your vague response linger in the air until Simon prompted you to continue, right on cue. "...For?"
"You know I have safety concerns with jeeps. The whole 'no doors or windows' thing?"
Simon scoffed and rolled his eyes, knowing full well where the conversation was headed. His treasured car had been the topic of many heated discussions over the years, some playful and some admittedly not so playful. But when he opened his mouth to defend himself, you rushed on.
"We need something that can get us safely from one place to another. You, me,... and the baby."
All of Simon's prepared arguments flew out the window as he sat there in stunned silence, dumbfounded. He had mentally listed every possible counter to what you had to say, but there was no way he could have anticipated a declaration like that.
"You're-you're pregnant?!"
"Don't act so surprised," you giggled, swatting at him. "It takes two to tango and you know how much we tango. It was bound to happen eventually!"
"No, I'm serious," he whispered, grabbing your hand and turning you to face him. "You're really pregnant?"
You blushed, tearing up a bit as you nodded. "Mmhmm!"
His hands trembled against your shoulders, his eyes wide as a million questions flew through his mind. But he held them all at bay to pull you into a tight embrace.
"Holy shit, princess!" he murmured, laughing in pleasant surprise. "I… We… We're gonna be parents! Princess!"
"I took the test when I got home. I did two, actually. We're gonna be parents!"
"Is it a boy? Is it a girl? What is it?" Simon pulled back, his hands hovering over your stomach as he knelt to lovingly coo at where his child was growing. "Are you a boy, a girl, something in between?"
"Simon!" You doubled over slightly as you laughed, clutching his arm for support. "It's way too early to even know something like that yet!"
"Well, whatever you turn out to be, don't you worry 'bout a thing. I'll be standing by and looking out. And the second you give the signal for evac, I'll meet you at the extraction point. Okay, little one? Just don’t give your Ma a hard time or we'll have problems."
"Aw, they wouldn't dream of it," you murmured. "I'm sure I won't even feel a thing!"
Simon gave you a doubtful look before laughing along with you. You were both practically bursting with joy and excitement. Your eyes danced with a bright happiness. But as he traced your cheek with his fingertips, he could sense there was trepidation in there too.
"Hey, you're gonna be just fine. When the cravings hit, when you start crying over every little thing, and when the baby finally comes? We'll get through it together. Even at the scariest parts, I'll be right there with you. Okay?"
"I know," you sighed. "It's just really sudden. I mean, we've talked about starting a family before. And I'm so excited to finally do it! But I'm kinda scared, too. Shocker, I know, but I've never done any of this before. Is it normal to be this nervous?"
"I say it is. Hell, I'm nervous too. But you're gonna be just fine. You're gonna be a great mother, princess. Trust me. It's me I'm more worried about, honestly. Didn't exactly have the best example for fatherhood growing up. And I really don't wanna mess up, you know?"
"I know how you feel, Si. But look at it this way! You've always been there for me, protecting me and taking care of me. Without fail. You didn't mess me up!"
His face fell into a lopsided smirk. "Didn't mess you up maybe. But I sure knocked you up good, huh?"
"Stop, I'm being serious," you laughed. "Honestly. They'll be lucky to have you as a dad. You're gonna do great, I know it."
Simon relaxed a bit more, clinging to your words of encouragement. Eventually, he nodded and let out a breath of relief. His hands cradled your sides, pulling your stomach close as he planted a gentle kiss against your abdomen. His future child hadn't even arrived yet, but he was already wonderstruck and showering it with love.
"You're gonna laugh, but I had a silly idea for names."
"Oh?" Simon raised an eyebrow. "Lay it on me."
"Well, if it's a girl, we could name her Lilith. It means 'ghost' or 'spirit of the night'. And if it's a boy, maybe Caden? 'Spirit of War' just stood out to me. It's dumb, I know. But I thought it'd be fun to keep the Ghost theme going in a subtle way. Our own little family tradition."
"Lily and Cade," he murmured, immediately creating affectionate nicknames for both options. "It's not dumb, love. It's perfect. Our own little band of ghouls and ghosts."
"It's your kid too, though. You have any ideas?"
Simon rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his pants. "I don't have names or anything. But I do wanna sort something out right right off the bat. We'll baby-proof the house. And all my guns and ammo will be kept safely out of reach. But the minute they are old enough, I'm teaching the little rascal how to shoot. If they wanna be Little Ghosts in name, they gotta fight like one too."
"I suspected as much," you giggled. "I was gonna make you promise to be safe at first, but I know you. They'll be in good hands."
"Oh, the best hands," he smirked, puffing out his chest. "But come on. Let's get you inside and off your feet."
The sun was starting to dip lower on the horizon. But as late as it was getting, you didn't have the heart to leave the car port just yet. The open engine bay yawned at you, seemingly pulling you in. It always felt like the perfect fix was just around the corner. And though it never was, you weren't ready to surrender for the night just yet.
"Aw, man! Five more minutes? I'm okay, I promise!"
"Nope," Simon shook his head, tugging the tools from your hands before scooping you up in his arms. "That was an order, princess. I'm not taking any risks. Don't worry about the car, though. I'll sort it out myself now that I've got a good reason to. But from here on out, Lily comes first."
"Or Cade," you chirped, poking his arm. "It could still go either way!"
"You think I can't tell when I’m in the presence of a princess? Trust me, it's Lily. I just have a feeling. Call it a fatherly instinct."
“Look,” Ghost panted, slowly thrusting between the flesh of your thighs. “I know you said you liked it rough. But I won't lie. I can be a bit more than just rough. I don't hold back and it takes an act of God to make me stop once I get started. You sure you can really handle that? I’m not the best at being gentle, but I can promise to try my best if it's too much.”
“Ghost, I’ve never been more sure in my entire life,” you moaned, moving with him. “Please.”
Ghost chuckled, the sound low and husky as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Well then. You might want to hold onto something.”
And now, on Ghost Laying Pipe,...
---------------------
Reader POV:
You were already so far gone. Your first orgasm had left you dazed and your body was still tingling from the sweet release. But though your mind was heavily clouded by the swarm of endorphins, you managed react. You reached out and gripped the metal bar of the headboard to brace yourself. And you were immediately glad that you did.
Ghost slowly started to advance, the head of his cock parting your glistening folds like a hand entering a glove. Well, a very tight glove. The fullness of his head hadn't even pushed into you fully when you gripped the headboard tight with a loud whine.
Inhalation. Exhalation. That was all you heard around you, your own frantic gasps of air combining with his sharp intakes of breath. Ghost wasn't rushing this first push, knowing full well it would hurt even more if he did. So he gritted his teeth, trying hard to take his time and ease his girth into your opening with tremorous restraint.
"That's it," he purred, his voice rumbling through his chest. He gripped the curve of your hips to steady you as your legs began to shake. "Easy, princess. You can take me."
You whimpered, the sound hitting his ears like music. But you didn't speak. You couldn't. All you were able to do was clutch the metal bar, mouth hanging open in a wanton expression of awe as he gradually crammed himself into you.
Suddenly, you felt him go still. You still hadn't felt the distinctive snap of his tip sliding past your entrance. So you assumed he was backing out, bracing to push back in again in an effort to gradually stretch you out. In truth, that was his initial intention. But though his girth was thick, his body's patience was leaning more towards the opposite extreme. With a controlled roll of his hips, Ghost jerked forward and pushed his head past the ring of muscle that held him at bay.
"Ah!" Your body rocked with the movement, the sudden taste of fullness stretching your walls to their limit in an instant. "G-ghost!"
This time, it was his turn to have no words. A low groan of bliss sounded from behind you as your walls closed in around him. There was still a lot of him left to follow, but just that small sample made him shudder in anticipation.
"Bloody… hell," he heaved, allowing himself a series of shallow thrusts. "I knew you were tight but- Oh, fuck me. Fuck!"
The movement gave him a rush of needed friction over his sensitive head. But it also served to gently ease your walls into a more relaxed, accepting state. He was working you open, trying to prepare your body for what would soon follow. And after a few seconds of acclimation, he tightened his hold on you and slowly continued his advance.
Your hand was trembling now. The other quickly moved to mirror its twin's grasp on the headboard as you tried to will your core into submission. But no amount of mental fortitude could handle the feeling of his length splitting you apart.
"Can't!" You gasped with a shuddered sob, back arching to escape the increasing tightness expanding into your stomach. "It's too much!"
"Breathe with me, princess," Ghost strained the words out past another deep moan. "Just a little more. You can take me. You can take me."
He repeated his last phrase in breathy gasps, almost like he was trying to convince himself of the same. The pressure on his length was excruciating in the best of ways. But despite the initial reluctance of your core, he could feel you slowly stretching to accommodate him. Every ridge and fold of your entrance stimulated him as they made way for his presence. It was gradual, but it was happening. Your depths were swallowing him whole and it felt so incredible it was nearly mind-numbing. But he knew continuing at such a gentle pace would only draw out the discomfort for you. What you needed was this initial moment over and done with, ripped off like a band-aid.
"I've got you," Ghost murmured, slipping a precautionary hand over your mouth. "Deep breath for me, princess."
When he felt you breathe in, he followed it with a sharp inhale of his own before snapping his hips forward into yours. You let out a muffled scream as he buried his length into you in one fluid motion, a deep shudder coursing through your body in violent waves. Suddenly, you could feel all of him. Every vein, every throb, every twitch. The head of his cock tucked firmly against your cervix, an internal barrier you knew he would soon batter relentlessly.
Ghost joined you in your reaction, cursing through his teeth in a sharp hiss. Once your choked sounds of shock and pleasure had died down a bit, he removed his hand from your mouth to let them fly free. A chorus of gasps, moans, and heated whispers of lust filled the room as both of you savored the tight fit.
"Jesus Christ, princess. You're gonna be fucking ruined when I'm done with you."
You panted beneath him, your grip on the headboard faltering as you collapsed to the mattress below. Every muscle in your body had turned to mush, your mind unable to will them into motion again. All it could process was just how completely he filled you. How his size made your stomach bulge outward. And how your body urgently needed more.
"Ghost, I-"
"Simon," he growled, quickly removing his mask before readjusting his hold. "Call me Simon."
"Simon," you breathed. "More."
A low chuckle rumbled through him, the vibrations dancing alone your spine. "You want more, princess? I'll give you some more."
Without warning, he reared back and impaled you again. There was no more waiting. No more patience. No more tenderness. He repeated the motion, grunting with each impact as he found his pace. It was raw, it was primal. It was nothing but pure expression of a desperate need too long contained.
Every thrust came with the resounding clap of his thighs against your ass, your body quaking in response. His fingers dug into your hips, almost clawing for purchase. Any grip he could find, he used to yank you back to meet each brutal re-entry.
"Is this what you wanted? Huh? To make me fucking lose it and fuck your brains out?"
You moaned, the sound coming out shrill and breathy. There were no words to say. There was only the feeling of him pounding into you like there was no tomorrow. And God, you hoped tomorrow would never come.
"You tempted me. You haunted me. You made me wait. But you asked for this. And now that you're in my house, in my bed? You're mine now. I don't care where you are or what you're doing. I will drag your ass back here so fast it'll make your head spin. Make you take my cock again. And again! And again!" He punctuated his words with a series of particularly harsh thrusts that sent you jolting forward from the force. "I could spend the rest of my life claiming you. Breeding you. Filling you up to the brim. And I just might. So, be a good girl and let me destroy you like you've always craved."
Ghost was rambling and he knew it, but he didn't care. He couldn't stop. Every sordid thought and fantasy that had crossed his mind since the day you arrived on base just came pouring out of his mouth. And now that he no longer had to confine them, they couldn't be held inside any longer. He wanted you to hear his darkest dreams of you. He wanted you to feel the burning heat that coursed through him with each stolen glance. The true depths of his desire, of his need, and of his love. He needed you to know just how badly he craved you.
"Simon-Fuck! Oh my god, Simon!"
You couldn’t will any other words out of your mouth. But you didn't need to. He didn't need to hear perfectly formed phrases to describe the intricacies of how much you needed him too. Those words were enough for him. Every gasp and moan was enough to convey what he longed to hear. What he knew to be true.
Like putty in his hands, you were helpless in a trance of bliss when he took full control. With one hand gripping your shoulder and the other maintaining a firm grip on your waist, he lifted you off the bed entirely like you weighed nothing at all. And with his newfound leverage, he moved your whole body with his vicious rhythm without skipping a beat.
"You like this?" Ghost growled, digging his nails into your side. "Me using you as my own personal fleshlight? My pretty little cocksleeve?"
"Yes!" You whimpered, your breath hitching with each thrust. "Don't stop."
"I bet you'll like this more," he chuckled, grabbing your throat and forcing your head back against his shoulder. "I haven't forgotten what you like. What you need."
"Oh my god," you wailed, melting as he squeezed your neck in a crushing grip. There was still enough freedom to breathe, but the surge of dominance still took your breath away.
You could feel yourself beginning to fall apart. A level of urgency tinged your voice as you cried out for him to make you his. And he did not disappoint. Ghost’s stamina was ungodly, his pace never faltering from the start. He rammed the girth length of his cock into you just as rough and deep as before. And the pleasure you felt, the fulfillment that rushed through you? It was stronger than anything you'd ever felt in your life. Your back was arched at a near painful angle, body contorted around his hulking form like an accessory.
With one hand, you cradled his cheek. You turned his face towards yours, eyes of twin flames locking in heated passion. The words didn't need to be spoken aloud, but you spoke them anyway. Your heart felt like it would burst in your chest if you didn't.
"I love you," you panted, breath shaky as you felt your climax drawing near.
"I love you, too," he rasped, his eyes half-lidded and rolling back in his head as his own release crept closer. "More than life itself."
He knew you were close. Every shiver of your body in his arms made it crystal clear. So, he offered you just enough added pleasure to tear your grip from the ledge. As his fingertips fondled your clit, he growled and sank his teeth into your shoulder. You cried out, but he didn't let go. He bit hard, so hard he'd leave a mark. A symbol of who you belonged to. Who held the key to your wildest pleasures. He probably drew blood. But what did it matter? What were a few drops of blood in exchange for a lifetime of pleasure?
"Simon!" you mewled, clutching his shoulder. The physical world was starting to melt away from your senses as your core twitched around him. Every other sound faded to the background. All that remained were your shrill cries, his depraved whispers hot in your ear, and the filthy sounds of his cock slamming into your dripping sex with urgency. Your mind wasn't nearly clear enough to decipher his words. But moments later you did hear his breath catch on the jagged edge of his own climax, his low tones morphing into a guttural roar of satisfaction. Ghost cursed loudly, clutching your writhing form against him as he erupted within you. He continued rolling his hips as he spilled his seed, almost as if to force his release into every available space. As if to ensure every inch of your depths would be marked with his claim.
There was the sound of heavy panting and labored breath in your ear. It was hard to tell if it was you or Ghost, perhaps both. But you were too far gone to make sense of anything except how you felt in that moment. Overwhelmed. Cock drunk. Satisfied. Fulfilled.
Happy.
You felt happy. Truly happy. And it felt like it had been ages since you experienced that emotion so intensely. Even if you had, nothing could compare to this. Nothing could ever hope to come close. This was the mountain top moment, right here and right now.
"Oh, princess," Ghost shushed you, frantically stroking your shoulders as he set you back down. "Was it too much? Did I hurt you? Please don't cry. I-I’m so sorry."
You were crying? His hand skimmed over your cheeks. It wasn't until he began wiping the tears away that your skin registered the moist sensation. But just having the awareness that tears had fallen did nothing to stop their flow.
"No, I'm okay," you sniffled, shakily wiping your eyes. "I'm okay. I'm just... I'm just so happy. You don't know how much I've wanted this. Needed this. Needed you . It's been so long since someone touched me at all. And I just... I love you so much."
Ghost breathed a sigh of relief, carefully backing out of you before pulling you to his chest. "Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. And the feeling's mutual."
"Never let me go," you whimpered, a fresh wave of tears cresting with the words. "Please, never let me go."
"I'm not going anywhere, princess," he whispered back, holding you tight. "And that's a promise."
Sexual Thoughts, TW: Sexual Situations, TW: Oral Sex, Dominant-ish Ghost, Submissive-ish Reader, Fingering
Get a bucket and a mop~ Also, don't think for a second that spiciness ends with this chapter. We going all out up in here lol
Reader POV:
"There you are," you murmured, turning to face him. "What took you so long out there?"
"Not much, just cleaning up a bit in the kitchen."
"You didn’t have to do that! I was gonna clean up in the morning.”
"I didn’t mind,” Ghost chuckled. "I’m not above washing a dish or two. Besides, you cooked. If you’re gonna be the Pancake Master, you gotta let me be the Dishes Master sometimes."
“Aw,” you melted at his thoughtfulness. “Okay, sounds like a deal.”
You smiled dreamily, your mind instantly returning to the idea of living together long term. It had only been a few hours at the cabin, but part of you wanted to stay here forever. Far away from the stress of your job, distanced from the drama at the base, surrounded by pine trees, and with Ghost by your side. You glanced over at him, curious if he felt the same way. But when your eyes landed on him, you blushed when you saw him beginning to undress. Your eyes dropped to his hands as he began untying his robe, the simple act making your breath hitch.
"D-do you want me to give you some privacy?" You rushed, swallowing hard and tearing your eyes up from his waist. "I can turn around."
"This cabin isn’t very big. And we're literally sleeping in the same bed, princess. So we’re bound to see a bit more of each other eventually," he laughed, draping the robe over the foot of the bed. "Besides, aren’t we… Well, let me rephrase that. What exactly are we right now?"
"Well," you stammered, unsure how to word your response without sounding silly. "Is it too soon to start dating?"
"Depends. There someone you got eyes for?"
"Yes, you!" you laughed. "You know that!"
"Just making sure we're on the same page," he chuckled. "But no, I don't think so. If you feel ready to date again, I'd be more than happy to step up to the plate."
A rush of warmth slowly crept over your face as he nonchalantly lowered his sweatpants and stepped out of them. After placing them beside his robe, he shooed you towards the far end of the bed and climbed in after you. It appeared he was a "just boxers" kind of guy when it came to sleepwear. But you had no complaints. Far from it, in fact. The crotch of his boxers bowed outward dramatically. You had only taken a quick glance, not wanting to get caught ogling him. But the size of what was hidden beneath them was not lost on you. If he had turned out to be the type who slept naked, you knew you would have a hard time keeping your hands off of him under the blankets. Even if you kept your hands respectfully to yourself, the chances were high that his cock would brush against you at some point. Especially if you got him riled up a bit. A few innocent wiggles of your ass against his lap as you “tried to get comfortable”. Maybe you could secretly slip off your panties during the night. Maybe you could get him to spoon you and his cock would just so happen to press against your ass. Or, if you were lucky, between your legs.
“You good?” Ghost asked, noticing your mile long gaze.
You shook yourself from your sexual daze and gave him a quick nod before tearing your eyes off of his body. As you scooted across the bed, you were briefly ashamed to have let such thoughts consume you so easily. But you didn’t punish yourself for the sexual urges you felt. There was no shame in wanting him like that, craving him like that. With a body like his, who could look at him and not want to jump his bones?
You scrambled as far from his side of the bed as you could, trying to give him adequate space. But there wasn’t very much space to work with. Even moving as far to one side as you could, there was barely half of the bed left available. And to get that much extra space, you were awkwardly crammed against the bedroom wall as Ghost settled in beside you. He sighed and stretched out lazily, tucking his arms behind his head as he reclined against the soft pillows.
"Um, Ghost?" You giggled. "I don't know if this bed is going to be big enough for both of us."
"We'll fit just fine. We just gotta be a little creative,” he hummed, reaching out for you. “Come here, princess."
Moving slowly and gently, Ghost’s large hands settled around your waist and he tugged you closer to him. As your weight started to roll over onto him, his hand moved to hug the curve of your hip to keep you from falling over. The gesture was purely utilitarian and innocent, only meant to help support you. But you couldn’t help but notice the way his fingertips pressed oh so close to the curvature of your rear. As he deftly pulled you on top of him, you had to bite back a moan at that act alone. Once you were securely snuggled against his chest and he was certain you’d found your balance, he pulled the blankets to cover you both and then wrapped his arms around you.
In truth, Ghost hadn't made the position suggestion with ulterior motives. How else were you supposed to sleep? And he was fairly sure neither of you would voluntarily opt to sleep through the night squished against the wall like you had been. But when your chest pressed against his own, he felt the unmistakable sensation of hardened nipples shifting against his chest. You weren’t wearing a bra. And in your current position, all that separated your breasts from pressing against his bare skin was a thin layer of loose fabric. Every move you made on top of his made the outline of your unrestrained breasts shift and bounce against him. And each time they did, Ghost felt his excitement grow. And if he wasn’t careful, you would most certainly notice it. In an attempt to prevent any unnecessary friction against his groin, he tried to shift your body higher on his own. But when you pushed off of his chest and sat up, the fullness of your ass landed directly on him and he failed to contain a heated moan at the sudden contact. A moan that he knew you had to have heard.
And his suspicion was correct because you definitely had. You saw the brief flicker of desire in his eyes. You felt his hands twitch, his fingers tightening around your hips for only a second. And beneath your fingers, you could feel the pace of his heart sharply increase. The man was as horny as you were! Judging by the increasing stiffness in his boxers, he was more than just a bit excited. Feeling emboldened by his response, you pressed further and ground your groin against his. The motion made his breath stutter and his hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of the same. But despite the pointed interest his body conveyed, Ghost stiffened beneath you and clamped his hands down on your waist to hold you still.
"Look," he sighed, his voice strained. "I know what you’re trying to do. But you've been through a lot tonight. And I don't want to take advantage. I don’t want this to be something you regret in the morning."
"Do you… not want me anymore?"
Your mind spun with panic and embarrassment. Was it all about the hunt for him? The thrill of the chase? And now that he'd gotten his prize, the fire had gone out just like that? Had you really just destroyed one relationship to end up right back where you had started? What on earth had you just done??
Ghost saw the sheer mortification on your face and rushed to dispel it. "No, that’s not what I’m saying. Honestly, it's taken everything in me not to bend you over the nearest surface ever since you got out of the car. You're lucky you made it two steps past the front door. I want you then, and I sure as hell want you now. But I made you a promise and I’m determined to keep it, though it’s proving to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I’m not putting my hands on you without your clear permission. Without confirmation that it's what you really want."
Though the mood was serious and tense, you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture. It was so kind of him to be that committed to respecting you. But though it warmed your heart, the last thing you wanted him to do tonight was treat you respectfully.
“Ghost,” you whispered, holding his gaze as you tugged your shirt over your head and threw it to the floor. “What I want is for you to fuck me. As long and as hard as you desire. That's what I really want right now.”
Ghost’s breath was coming in short pants, his eyes burning into every inch of skin you revealed to him. You reached for the hem of your panties, eager to remove them as well. But now that he had heard the words he’d been waiting so long to hear, Ghost was unwilling to waste another precious second. Before you could lower the fabric past your hips, his hand shot out and seized your bicep. His fingertips dug into your arms painfully as he gave your body a forceful yank, pulling you back down on top of him. Your hips molded against his as the palm of his other hand pressed into your lower back, forcing away any hopes of separation between your bodies. And then the world spun around you as he flipped you beneath him. Your back had barely bounced against the mattress before he was on you.
“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you, princess,” he growled, caging you from above. “Don’t you doubt that for a second.”
His words sent a jolt of arousal down your spine, making you shiver in anticipation. You didn’t want to wait any longer and he clearly wasn’t interested in delays himself. In that spirit, you reached down and started frantically tugging at your panties to get them off. But Ghost stopped you a second time, this time closing his hand around your throat and pushing you down into the bed below him.
“Mine,” he snarled.
The ferocity in his voice and the fire in his eyes was more than enough to make you freeze in place. His intention was clear. He wanted to remove your final piece of clothing himself. So you let your hands fall limp against the mattress, surrendering fully to his lead. With one hand, he grabbed hold of the waistline and yanked, the delicate lace shredding in his fist like tissue paper. And the minute the clothing was removed, his hand eagerly took its place. After giving your delicate folds a few firm strokes, he quickly shoved two fingers into your core.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped, throwing your head back at the sudden entry.
The hand at your throat kept you from being able to see his pleasure unfold. But the low moan he made at your wetness was more than enough to satisfy your curiosity. His eyes were glued to where his fingers vanished into your depths, watching them slowly drive in and out of you almost in a trance.
“God. You’re so wet, princess,” he moaned. “Just as tight as I remember, too. Jesus.”
His pace began to slowly increase, his fingertips curving upward to stimulate hidden targets deep within you. Targets that he struck with firm and brutal precision. Every entry made you whimper with both need and pleasure. He knew what he was doing, there was no doubt about that. And after the last time he’d touched you like this, he was well aware exactly how to make you a quivering mess of arousal. And he was well on his way to doing just that.
“Ghost-”
“Don’t talk, no words,” he whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen clit. “Let me take care of you, doll. Let me make you feel good.”
You whimpered again, the sound growing higher in pitch as his thumb kneaded the sensitive bundle of nerves. His hands on your body? His fingers thrusting inside your wet folds? His thumb torturing your clit in the best of ways? There were so many things to feel all at once it was almost overwhelming. But you obeyed, abandoning all thoughts of speaking and letting your head loll back onto the pillow. Your eyes fell shut and you hung on as the indescribable pleasure filled your senses. But if you thought the current stimulation was enough to drive you over the edge, nothing could have prepared you for the wet heat of his mouth descending on your sex.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, your entire body trembling beneath him.
Ghost moaned against you in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations. His tongue lapped at you hungrily, determined to not let even the smallest crevice of your folds go unexplored. For a moment, his lips encircled your clit and sealed around the small protrusion. And then he started to suck. Hard. It felt like he was drawing your very soul out of your body with each desperate tug. And if he was, you wouldn’t have stopped him. He could have all of you, body and soul. He could have everything as long as the feeling never stopped.
You whimpered loudly as he devoured you, clutching the bedsheets to control the powerful tremors rippling through your form. Control. That was a cute thought. There was no such thing as control. Not right now. And if there was, it certainly wasn’t in your possession. When his hands shifted to your hips and hoisted your lower half completely off the bed, it was clear all of the control here was in his firm grasp. He threw your legs over his shoulders and pressed your folds against his mouth, continuing to suckle the sensitive bundle of nerves with reckless abandon. And all you could do was limply dangle from his arms, letting out gasped moans of pleasure as he ate his fill from your sweetness.
When your legs started to quiver uncontrollably, Ghost tightened his hold on you and finally released your clit from his lips in order to plunge his tongue into your slick entrance.
“Good girl,” he mumbled into your folds. “Such a good girl for me.”
Those words were your first undoing of the night. And you felt safe in assuming there would be many more to follow. With a strangled cry of pleasure, you fell over the harsh drop of your climax. Your thighs tensed around him, but he welcomed the increased pressure and moaned into your sex as a fresh supply of wetness flooded his mouth. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. Only garbled, incoherent sounds flew past your lips as your body tried and failed to handle the intense waves of release that overtook you.
Perhaps you blacked out from the stimulation alone. Perhaps you were just that dazed from the sensations that reality escaped you for a moment. But either way, you had somehow ended on your stomach. Your hips were lifted off the bed just enough to give Ghost the access he required. And the very next thing you registered was the fat head of his erection rubbing against your folds from behind. You couldn’t see anything from this angle, but it made you wonder just how big he actually was! If the tip felt as large as it did, he was going to stretch you out more than just a little. But instead of forging ahead, Ghost had paused and was lingering there.
“Princess,” Ghost panted, slowly thrusting between the flesh of your thighs. “I know you said you liked it rough. But I won't lie. I can be a bit more than just rough. I don't hold back and it takes an act of God to make me stop once I get started. You sure you can really handle that? I’m not the best at being gentle, but I can promise to try my best if it's too much.”
“Ghost, I’ve never been more sure in my entire life,” you moaned, moving with him. “Please.”
Ghost chuckled, the sound low and husky as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Well then. You might want to hold onto something.”
Adorable Ghost, Adorable Reader, Affectionate Ghost, Sexual Tension, Sexual Urges
For real though, someone's gonna break real soon lol
Reader POV:
When you had opened the specified cabinet to put away the dishes, it immediately struck you that he didn't have very much in there. Counting the dishes you put away, he had a total of three plates, three mugs, three bowls, and one set of cutlery. That was it. You’d checked. The scant collection made sense for a solitary getaway, though.
Just putting away dishes was far too short of a task to keep your nerves at bay though. So as soon as you finished, you began searching for something else to do to fill the time. And it was that desire that led to you hesitantly peeking through every cabinet and drawer in sight. But when a majority of them were revealed to be empty, your snooping eventually led you to the fridge. There had to be something in there, right?
To your delight and relief, the refrigerator wasn’t empty. But there still wasn't very much inside it. The freezer compartment contained two or three frozen pizzas, all of which were classic pepperoni. Behind the ice cube tray sat a pile of small plastic packages: frozen fruits and vegetables. And in the main compartment, you found a cluster of water bottles that took up the entire bottom shelf. But that was it. Those were the only ready-to-consume items in the whole kitchen! You found a small pantry that was stocked with a few essentials. But beyond that, every nook and cranny of the kitchen closet had been repurposed as storage or a makeshift armory. Boxes of ammunition, gun cleaning supplies and rags filled the other shelves. And a collection of hunting knives, firearms, and weapons you didn’t recognize hung on a rack inside the door.
Gender roles were something you adamantly opposed and staunchly resisted in your day to day life. But still, you suddenly felt that Ghost needed a woman's touch in this area of his life. You wanted to show your skills a bit, show him what he could expect if the two of you actually lived together one day. Even if you didn't move in with him anytime soon, you wanted him to know he'd be well cared for. You'd both care for each other in your own special ways. And it just so happened that one of your love languages was cooking.
After grabbing a box of pancake mix from the pantry and a bag of frozen blueberries, you set about making him a simple dinner. There wasn't very much to work with, so it wouldn't be a culinary masterpiece. But if it tasted good and soothed hunger, it would be good enough. A short ride in the microwave softened the fruit efficiently, leaving it tender enough to stir into the batter. Trails of dark blue streaked throughout the pale mixture, creating a beautiful contrast of fruity goodness. And once you found a frying pan, the rest was easy as pie. The first few pancakes sizzled happily in the pan. And when you flipped them, they’d cooked to a picturesque golden brown. The comforting scent of fresh food started to fill the cabin. And just like that, the kitchen had come to life.
You fell into a pleasant calm, humming to yourself while giving the turned pancakes gentle pats of encouragement. After the pure chaos of the past few days, it felt good to finally be at ease. Perhaps being on base for so long had spoiled you a bit. Though it was a nice break from having no choice but to cook, you’d never gone that many days without lifting a finger in the kitchen. So now summoning nourishment from your own efforts felt so calming that you zoned out a bit, relaxing into the almost meditative rhythm of cooking.
"You hungry?"
Ghost’s voice came from directly behind you, making you jump out of your skin at first. How had he managed to sneak up on you like that? And to get so close, too! He was so close that his chest bumped against your back as he chuckled at your comical reaction. A man his size had no business moving so quietly. That was something new you’d have to get used to.
"Oh my god," you gasped in surprise. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Couple minutes," he murmured, resting his hands on either side of the stove top. "You should've told me you wanted something. There's pizza in the freezer."
"Oh, I know! I'm not super hungry, but I thought you might be. You've done so much for me lately, so I wanted to do something nice for you."
Ghost’s hands found your waist, tugging you back towards him a bit so he could peer over your shoulder at your work. He watched with rapt attention as you poured a dollop of batter into the pan, waited for its surface to bubble just enough, and then flipped it with a skillful flick of your wrist.
You grinned, glancing back at him. "Are you hungry?"
"I’m not starving," he chuckled. "But it smells so good. I’d feel bad saying no after you did all this work.”
“It wasn’t really that much work,” you gave him a soft smile. “Besides, these freeze really well. We can have them for breakfast tomorrow. But if you want, you can pop them in a ziploc bag, put them in the freezer, and save them for later. Then, you’ll always have something sweet on hand whenever you want it.”
“They sell ziploc bags in your size?” Ghost teased. “Because I’d rather have you on hand instead. But in all seriousness, I’m impressed. Look at you playing house already.”
Though his flirtatious words made you blush a bit, you still beamed with pride at the compliment to your cooking. As you poured the next pancake into the pan, a surge of confidence shot through you. So this time, when the batter’s surface dotted with tiny bubbles, you set the spatula aside and seized the frying pan by its handle. You’d seen plenty of people flip pancakes in the air. You’d even done it successfully yourself, once or twice! And from the way you felt at the moment, you could do it perfectly now too!
Ghost watched with interest as you gave the pan an experimental shake. When the pancake jostled loosely with the motion, you set your jaw and gave the pan an abrupt flick upwards. For a split second, everything unfolded just as you had envisioned. The disk of seared batter lifted off the greased surface and floated up high above the pan. But as the momentum began to flip it over, it began to arc in the air. Towards you. You tried to adjust and catch it, but you could only back up so far with Ghost standing at your back. In panic, you shut your eyes and held out the pan, urging the airborne pancake back into the pan by pure force of will. But the very next thing you felt was a slap of thick moisture across your face, followed by the soft thud of the pancake crumpling to the floor.
Both of you stood there for a moment in startled silence. But it was quickly broken by the sound of Ghost’s hearty laughter. And once you had successfully wiped the batter away from your eyes, he was still doubled over and gasping for breath.
“I guess I got a bit carried away there,” you giggled, stooping to clean up the small mess. “That was a disaster just waiting to happen.”
“No, it was perfect,” Ghost chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that again.”
“I could have caught it,” you said, giving his arm a playful punch. “If you weren’t standing behind me, it would have gone off without a hitch! I had it under control!”
“Oh, yes. Because flipping pancakes with your eyes closed is how the pros do it?”
“I’ll have you know, I earned my PhD in pancakes. You’re talking to a certified Pancake Master here!”
Ghost continued to laugh, wiping his eyes with the edge of his mask. He’d laughed so hard that he’d cried. But soon, he caught his breath and regained his composure again. After turning off the burner, he guided you to the bathroom.
“Alright, miss Pancake Master,” he teased, taking your hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He lifted you up, hoisting you onto the bathroom counter with ease before grabbing a washcloth. After letting the water run for a moment to reach a tolerable warmth, he held it beneath the faucet until it was completely drenched. Once he had wrung it out, he gently began wiping the batter from your face.
The warmth of the cloth felt soothing against your skin. And Ghost was surprisingly gentle. He dabbed at your face, ensuring every last trace of your kitchen adventure was carefully wiped clean. As he worked, you found yourself staring at him. His warm, brown eyes looked like pools of melted chocolate. And there were tiny, golden flecks in them when they caught the bathroom light. His lashes were pale against the darkness of his face paint. They were surprisingly long too, fanning out gently above his eyes. You couldn’t help but stare. This was the first time you’d gotten a real look at him like this. And while he was otherwise occupied, you took your time studying his face. The fabric of his mask pushed outward ever so slightly with each exhale, the heath of his breath ghosting over your cheek as he leaned in. You wanted to touch him. To trail your hand along the curvature of his cheek. To lift the bottom of his mask to reveal his soft lips. To wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.
As he raised the cloth to your face again, his eyes flitted up to meet yours. Though the eye contact made you feel a bit flustered, you didn’t look away. Instead, you held his gaze and slowly wound your legs around his hips. Ghost froze, the washcloth suspended in mid air as your thighs pressed in on either side of him. You watched his eyes carefully for any signs or reactions. And as you did, you thought you saw a flicker of the same longing you felt. A flash of desire and lust. A sudden flare of need.
But as quickly as they arose, the moment broke when Ghost stiffened and looked away. You tried to cross your ankles in the small of his back, but he took a small step backwards and made the act impossible to carry out. And it made you immediately second guess yourself. Had you seen in his eyes what you thought you had seen? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see?
“There,” he whispered, taking a shaky breath. “All clean.”
“T-thanks,” you stammered, suddenly embarrassed at your advance.
You mentally kicked yourself for being as horny as you were. On one hand, you knew where it was coming from. After chomping at the bit for any contact at all over the past few days, be it innocent or sexual, you were just so touch starved. The urge to have any man’s hands on your body was driving you insane. And Ghost being the one to do it? That’s all you had wanted for a long time now. Having him so close and within reach, your mind couldn’t help but go towards those needs. But on the other hand, you didn’t want to come across as so needy. You didn’t want him to think you only saw him sexually. You wanted a real relationship with him, not just meaningless sex. So if he wanted to pump the brakes and take things slow at first, you wanted to respect that and show him that you possessed the self-control to do so with grace.
“I’m going to go get ready for bed,” you said, pushing off the countertop. “Where did my pajamas end up?”
Ghost fully backed away, giving you your space as you headed for the bathroom door. But he tilted his head, giving you a confused look. “Pajamas? I don’t know what you wear to bed, but I didn’t see any pajama sets in your bag.”
“Oh, yeah,” you giggled. “I’m not a matching set kind of girl when it comes to sleepwear. I choose comfort over fashion at bedtime.”
“Well, I put all your stuff in the dresser. Sorry if I got things mixed up when I did.”
“I’m sure I’ll find something that’ll do the job. Just give me a sec, okay?”
Ghost shrugged, watching you go. The gentle sway of your hips danced in his peripheral view, taunting him and drawing his eyes further down your body. But he resisted, distracting himself from the increasing torment by turning around and tossing the washcloth into the hamper. Thankfully, you had already rounded the corner into the bedroom and shut the door when he turned back around. The crisis had been averted.
“Oh, thank God,” Ghost sighed, heading into the kitchen.
He took his time cleaning the kitchen. He stowed the cooked pancakes and leftover batter in the refrigerator before wiping away any traces of cooking from the countertops. There wasn’t very much to clean though. Other than the pancake flipping fiasco, she kept a pretty clean work station. There was just a light dusting of pancake mix on the countertop from when she had poured it into the mixing bowl. The mixing bowl!
Ghost glanced into the sink and was pleased to find a handful of dirty dishes that he could wash. That would help him pass the time well enough. He was doing everything he could to keep his mind off his more carnal desires. The voices in his mind were almost deafening now. Frustrated, insistent whispers roared so loud he almost couldn’t think straight.
“She clearly wants it! Why else would she pull you in like that?!”
“There's just one door between you and her right now. Just take a peek while she changes.”
“What the fuck are you waiting for? She’s basically serving herself up on a silver platter!”
“Just imagine how good she’s gonna feel while you fuck her brains out.”
“I wonder what she’s gonna wear to bed. A sheer nightie? Just panties? Nothing at all ?”
“Help her forget him. Make her forget him.”
As loud as his mind yelled at him to take the reins, he steeled himself as best he could. But all that resolve started to crack the minute he left the kitchen and opened the bedroom door. The lamp beside the table had been turned on, but all other lights had been shut off and the room was quiet. For a minute, he thought she had maybe fallen asleep that quickly. But when he spotted her on the bed, she was still wide awake. The girl was lying on her stomach, casually kicking her feet in the air while she scrolled through her phone. The bright light from the screen lit up her face in soft white light, accentuating her features. All she was wearing was a loose, oversized t-shirt. Certainly a comfortable choice. She was fully in her own world, unaware that her legs were parted just enough to show the crotch of her panties. And with each innocent kick of her legs, the fabric of her night shirt rode up a bit and gave him a salacious view of her ass.
The chorus of uninvited voices increased in volume, threatening to consume him all over again. But he clenched his jaw and strode over to the bed. It seemed his challenge wouldn't be getting any easier at this rate. And with them sharing a bed, having no option but to have their bodies touching throughout the night, Ghost didn't know how long he could truly hold himself back. One nudge of that perfect ass against his thigh and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from grabbing her, letting his hands wander her body with the same fervor his eyes currently were. But he still approached her. If things became too unbearable, he could always make a swift exit and just sleep in his recliner. He had a backup plan. Just in case.
TW: Brief discussion of grief/loss, TW: Sexual fantasies, Vulnerable Ghost, Backstory References for Ghost, Supportive Reader, Embarrassed Reader, Awkward Reader, Horny Ghost
We're getting closer to Ghost/Reader spicy time~ Yayyyy~
Reader POV:
You took your time giving yourself a brief tour of the cabin while Ghost unpacked the bags in the bedroom. The front door led into a large living room area, complete with all the usual comforts of an average home. They’d just been downsized for a sole inhabitant or for Ghost’s specific tastes. A large recliner sat towards the middle of the room, turned to face the right wall. Directly across from it was a television that sat atop a low table. Its shelves held a small collection of films and a few records. Further into the room sat the corresponding record player. It was in pretty good shape and wasn’t dusty at all, clear indicators that it was both cherished and put to use often. You made a mental note to rifle through the various albums at some point, curious what kind of music he enjoyed most. But that side quest would come later. For now, you just wanted to see everything the cabin had to offer.
On the opposite side of the room was a small kitchen and a dining table. Though the kitchen was decently large and well equipped, it didn't look like he used it very much. But it was tidy, nonetheless. The thought of him doing something as mundane as washing dishes was strange to imagine, but the plates and forks laid out to dry on a kitchen towel proved he had done so somewhat recently.
The decoration of the home was kept minimal. He seemed to feel safest sticking to solid colors, but they still gave the area a cozy feeling. Curtains, napkins, and towels were all the same toasty shade of brown. The hue reminded you of graham crackers or peanut brittle. The walls were bare for the most part. A rack of guns beside the door, some hooks for jackets to hang on, and the occasional shelf to hold smaller trinkets of his. But you quickly found the only two framed images in the house.
They sat side by side on the sill of the front window, propped up against the pane. The first was a picture showing a small group of smiling people. They must all be related, because they all shared the same brown eyes and characteristic smiles. An older woman stood towards the back, her smile coming through pensive and strained. Her arms were wrapped around the children that stood in front of her in a loose embrace. Beside her stood a gruff-looking middle-aged man who wasn’t smiling at all. Instead he stood with his arms crossed, appearing annoyed to have to pose for the camera. In front of them both were two young boys. The one on the right had a sweet and innocent face. He beamed up at the camera in an adorable, toothy grin. But the boy on the left wore more of a smirk. Though his hands were behind his back, you could see the butt of a BB gun poking out from behind him. And from the series of welts trailing along the first boy’s legs, you had a suspicion just what he’d been using for target practice.
The second framed image on the window sill wasn’t a picture at all though. Solemn black lettering at the top of the document bore the words “Certificate of Death”. He’d lost someone. Having no knowledge of his family and friends before his days in the taskforce, you hadn’t the slightest clue just who this person had been to him. But judging by the fact that it had earned a display frame made you suspect it had been someone very close to his heart.
“Hey Ghost,” you called out over your shoulder, continuing to study the two items. “Who are these people in the picture?”
He didn’t answer immediately, but you heard movement from the bedroom. And after hearing the zipper of a bag slide shut, you heard his footsteps exit the bedroom and move to where you stood. Once he reached you, Ghost peered over your shoulder and gazed down at the window sill.
“That’s the Rileys for ya,” he said quietly.
“Are they… Is this your family?”
Ghost picked up the picture frame, trailing his fingers along its border as he nodded. “Yep. That’s mom back there. And that’s my dad.”
“And is this you?” You giggled, pointing to the mischievous looking boy.
“Nope. I’m the other one.”
“Aw! Look at you! You’re so cute!”
Ghost rolled his eyes with a short laugh, looking down at his past self. “The little rascal,” he laughed. “Don’t let the smile fool you. I got up to plenty of antics back in the day.”
While he was in the mood to give out information, you figured it was a good time to bring up about the other item you’d found. You moved to pick up the framed death certificate, growing quiet and solemn. Ghost’s eyes followed you as you did. Since the people in the picture were his family and the name on the document was male, the only reasonable conclusion you could think of was that it was his father who had passed away. Unable to imagine the pain of losing a parent, you turned to give him a sympathetic hug.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” you murmured. “I’m sure he was a great guy.”
“Oh, don’t be,” Ghost laughed, shaking his head. “He was far from great, I assure you. Good guess, but it's not his.”
You paused, referencing the family photo again. Your finger trailed over each face until it landed over the smirking boy, a horrified gasp escaping you with your next theory. “Oh my god. Was it your brother?”
“Wrong again.” Ghost grabbed your hand and turned it to point at his chest. “That’s my death certificate. That’s my name.”
You glanced down at the paper again. The black ink spelled out the name “Simon Riley” in bold, flourished letters. Simon. His name was Simon! Though the revelation was an unexpected surprise, you didn’t have time to linger on it very long. Because seeing his name on the document just brought on a whole new layer of confusion. And the confusion only grew when you detected a hint of laughter in his eyes. But you thought you saw a flicker of grief there, too. Ghost didn’t offer you any hints or clues, though. He silently watched your mind spin, patiently waiting for you to solve his clever riddle.
“But… but you’re not dead,” you thought aloud. “Why do you have a death certificate if you’re not dead? It makes no sense.”
“For all legal purposes, I actually am. A mission went wrong, I never turned up, and that was the only reasonable answer my old team had left. Wasn’t until much later that I got out and crossed paths with Price. He knows the whole story, but it’s best to let the rest of the world think I’m long gone. It’s just easier to do my job that way.”
“So that’s why you call yourself Ghost,” you gasped, finally beginning to understand. “That’s why you wear the mask?”
Ghost nodded. “There are many reasons for it. But yeah, that’s one of ‘em.”
It was a good choice for his callsign and you agreed that it suited him. A silent but deadly opponent you would never see coming. A vengeful spirit haunting those who had earned his wrath. But it also made you a bit sad. It gave you the feeling he felt unseen and not really connected to anything. It sounded like loneliness and isolation. It sounded like pain. But those observations you kept to yourself because there was a more important question gnawing at your mind.
“But what about your family?” You asked. “They know you’re not dead, right?”
“My family? They’re dead, princess. Every last one of ‘em. Everyone you see in that picture is someone I lost, myself included in a way,” he sighed, looking away. There was that grief again. And now, its presence finally made sense.
You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, your heart aching for the sheer magnitude of his loss. “Ghost, I’m so sorry.”
Ghost let you pull him into a comforting hug. You didn’t know what to say to something like that. What were you supposed to say? Losing one family member was already painful enough on its own, no matter who it was. But all of them? Every last one? That level of grief was unimaginable.
“It’s alright,” he sighed, giving you a gentle squeeze before letting you go. “It was a long time ago. We weren’t the coziest of families and we had our troubles. But it just feels right to keep them close, you know?”
You nodded, letting the silence return as you tried to think of something to do. Something to comfort him or support him. You felt like you should do something. Anything. But Ghost recognized the sympathetic look in your eyes and waved his hand, not wanting you to suffer on his behalf.
“I’m fine,” he laughed softly. “I promise. Let me just finish unpacking so we can relax. It’s getting late and I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
You gave him one more concerned glance just to be sure, but his eyes had softened again. They softened the way they only ever did when he was looking at you. And from the crinkling of skin around his eyes, you could tell that he was smiling again. So, feeling reassured that the mournful moment had passed, you let him return to his task while you continued exploring the rest of the cabin.
The back half of the cabin was where the bedroom and bathroom were. There were three doors that sat where the living room ended, two on the right wall and one directly ahead. The first one revealed a storage closet stocked with random supplies and winter clothes. And the one beside it opened into a small bathroom. The door directly ahead still stood open from when Ghost had passed through it, giving you a peek into the bedroom. It was spacious and cozy. A dresser stood along one of the walls. In the corner was a twin size bed with a small bedside table tucked beside the headboard. All it had on its surface was an alarm clock and a lamp. But there was plenty of lighting potential in the room. Two large windows sat in the two opposing walls. And if the sun was up, you imagined generous amounts of sunlight streamed through them. It seemed the sleeping arrangements would be a tight squeeze. But you were certain the two of you would find a way to make things workable in one way or another.
You drew closer, lingering at the foot of the bed and watching as Ghost continued to unpack. He was so methodical about it. His own bags now sat empty in the closet and he had started working through yours. Something about seeing him carefully folding your clothes into neat piles and then slipping them into dresser drawers beside his own made your heart flutter. This was just a short getaway and your relationship had literally just begun. But it felt like you were moving in with him. It felt like this peaceful little cabin would be where the two of you would spend the rest of your days. Doing life together, growing old together. The mental image felt so real and so possible. But you didn’t want to rush things or make him think you were as clingy as you felt. So you batted the tender thoughts away and tried to think of something to do.
“Can I help?” You offered, watching him work.
“Oh, I got it,” he chuckled, lowering a stack of your pants into the dresser as well. “I’m almost done anyway.”
You nodded, and sat on the bed. But after just a few seconds, the urge to participate in the simple chores became impossible to ignore. It just felt wrong to be sitting there twiddling your thumbs while Ghost did all the work. So after a pause, you tried again.
"Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?" You asked, this time practically begging. "I feel weird just sitting around like this."
"You know," Ghost laughed, glancing over his shoulder at you. "Most people would call that 'relaxing'."
"I know. I'm just feeling a bit restless, I guess."
"Well, if you're itching for something to do, you can put away the dry dishes. First cabinet left of the sink."
You were about to give him an enthusiastic thank you for the assignment when you saw Ghost start to unzip the final compartment of your duffle bag. Heat rushed across your face, but it was too late to stop him from reaching inside. And you knew exactly what he would find when he did. Seeing him holding an armful of lacey bras and panties would practically make you die of embarrassment. And now, you were beginning to feel embarrassed that such a silly thing made you so flustered. You were both adults! And underwear was just a part of life, they were just clothes! But no matter how you tried to rationalize it away, the feeling only increased as his hand began to slowly withdraw from the bag.
"Uh, dishes!" you rushed, jumping to your feet with a nervous laugh. "You got it!"
With that, you wheeled around and darted into the kitchen. And once you were safely out of view, you quickly set about putting away the dishes. The task was a welcome distraction from the frenzied thoughts threatening to overtake your mind. Anything was as long as you didn't have to watch Ghost’s own task unfold. There in the kitchen, you could happily pretend he wasn't rifling through your stash of underwear. And you were determined to stay right where you were until you were certain the moment had passed.
---------------------
Ghost POV:
The minute she had left the room, Ghost almost called after her. At first, he was worried he’d done something that had upset her. Her expression had been a mixture of alarm and fear. And he had no idea what had prompted the reaction. But when he finally looked down and realized what he had just pulled out of her bag, he immediately understood and froze in place. A tangle of dainty little garments lay in his open hand. Bits of lace and elastic wound around itself and his fingers, the soft shades of pastel colors drawing him in. They were panties. He’d just grabbed a handful of her fucking panties. And a hesitant glance back into her bag revealed their counterparts: a small collection of bras.
Ghost swallowed hard, shuddering as a series of lurid temptations flew through his mind. He was never the type to lose himself over just seeing women’s undergarments. Even now, he cringed thinking back to his grade schoolmates, completely losing their minds just from walking past the “intimates” section of a store. But this was different. These weren’t just any panties. They were her panties, her bras. The delicate fabric that cradled and fondled every part of her body he longed to touch most. The lacy unmentionables whose access he envied more than anything. The fragile garments that collected her sweet nectar whenever she got turned on, the very sweetness he craved to collect on his tongue instead.
Without her standing there to see him do it, Ghost happily took his time scrutinizing each piece of her collection. She had brought a lot with her and they were all so different. A bright pink pair of panties immediately caught his eye, though. He lifted it from the rest for a closer inspection, dangling it from his fingers in front of his face. He’d seen his fair share of thongs before. But the style choice had always turned him on the most. The coverage was about as minimal as you could go. And as he turned the fabric around in his hand, he couldn’t help but picture her wearing this exact pair for his pleasure. The supple roundness of her ass on full display. The delicate strip of fabric disappearing between her cheeks. The tiny section of lace that would barely conceal her sensitive folds. Holding it up to the light, he could see the clear outline of his fingers straight through the fabric! Just the thought of her wearing these under a short dress on a particularly windy day? The fantasy sent a hot jolt of arousal straight to his groin.
Unable to resist, Ghost pressed the crotch of her thong to his mask. They smelled just like the glove he’d ruined just a few days prior. They smelled like her. Sweet, addictive, all-consuming. It wasn’t an overly strong scent, but just enough of it clung to the fabric to leave him hungry for more. And lucky for him, there was plenty more to explore right there in front of him.
After depositing the bundle of panties into the top drawer of the dresser, Ghost moved on to the handful of bras she’d packed alongside them. He recognized a couple of the patterns and fabrics. Not all of them matched, but she certainly had an appreciation for matching her lingerie. Maybe she was wearing a matching set right this minute! There was a wider variety of bra types than he had expected, but each of them had a characteristic that fanned the flames of his lust dangerously high. He wondered just how much of her breasts spilled out over the top of her strapless bra and how much effort it would take to rip it off of her. He pictured the extreme lift her push-up bras could create. And paired with just the right top, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes above her neckline for very long. One of the bras had the smallest amount of coverage he had ever seen. The fabric of the cups barely covered half of what a basic bra would. And from the look of it, one wrong shift of her weight would send her breasts falling out of them entirely. Falling out into his waiting hands.
Ghost shuddered, painfully aware that his breathing had picked up. His heart pounded wildly in his chest and pure arousal was shooting through his veins with each passing second. It didn't take a glance at his lap to verify what he already felt had developed there. His manhood was so stiff in his pants it was almost painful. That familiar knot of tension low in his stomach was rapidly increasing in intensity, urging him towards a powerful release. If he didn't act now and get her undergarments out of his sight, he ran the risk of shooting his load right then and there. Even that realization sent a fresh wave of fantasies through his mind. Him muffling his moans with one pair of panties while spilling his seed into another. The twisted pleasure of imagining she'd one day wear them, never once guessing traces of his excitement were pressed between her legs. Ghost moaned softly just envisioning it, but he forced himself to clear his mind.
He frantically crammed the rest of the sensual items into the dresser and shoved it closed. Once there was a safe separation between them and him, he gripped the edge of the dresser top and tried to compose himself. Though he easily could, he didn't want to get off on his own anymore. Not when the embodiment of his fantasies was available and only a few steps away. It felt like such a waste to finish in a spare towel or tissue when what he really wanted was to finish in her. On her, at the very least. But at the same time, he didn't want to push her again. He'd promised to let her make the first move for once and he owed it to her to be patient. He had already let his impulsiveness overtake him before and was determined not to let it sway him like that again. This time, he wanted clear and communicated consent. Only then would he do anything his mind begged him to.
"She just went through a breakup," he firmly reminded himself, taking deep breaths. "What she needs right now is a safe haven, not you trying to fuck her. Get it together, Ghost. Christ."
After a few more rounds of breathing, Ghost finally felt the persistent urges begin to diminish. They didn't go away entirely though. They never did. But he could deal with his desire simmering beneath the surface as long as it did no more than that. He could wait. He could do this.
Once he'd moved her empty bag into the closet beside his own, he paused to ensure his erection wasn't as obvious as it felt. The stiffness had waned a bit, but the prominent bulge in his crotch was still pretty noticeable. Left untouched, it would eventually pass with time. But he still didn't want her to see it and get the wrong idea about why he had brought her all the way out here. Thinking quickly, Ghost changed into a pair of sweatpants and a thin bathrobe. The thick fabric of the pants paired with the added layer of the robe would help to contain and conceal. And the sudden change of clothes could easily be explained as him simply getting ready for bed. It was the perfect cover.
As he tied the robe loosely around his waist, the scent of food finally registered to his senses. It smelled comforting and sweet, almost like opening the door to a bakery. Was she cooking in there? Whatever magic she was working in the kitchen made his mouth water and successfully occupied his wandering mind. With the tempting aroma reeling him in, Ghost happily allowed it to pull him along as he made his way to the kitchen
“Eat some food, get her settled in, and then get some sleep,” he cautioned himself as he went. “That's all you gotta do. Don’t go doing anything stupid.”
Now that the pain of the last few chapters is done, we can slowly start moving towards some happiness lol. I promise this chapter won't make your heart hurt! I promise!
Reader POV:
For the rest of the evening, the mood at the barracks was solemn. All thoughts of a night out had vanished and the building had quickly morphed from bustling in excitement to a respectful silence. No one was in a mood for a party anymore and were glad to have the event canceled. Even Price was in agreement, immediately calling off the assignment now that the root of the tension had been revealed. And once he had announced the evening’s outing wasn’t going forward as planned, everyone was quick to disperse. Well, almost everyone.
Soap had adamantly refused to leave König’s side. He'd pulled out a spare cot and had set up camp in his room, unwilling to leave his teammate alone with his pain through the night. And though Price had returned to his room, you had a suspicion he wasn't sleeping at all. He seemed like the type who would stay up all night just in case König had another panic attack and needed his support. Once Price had returned to his room, the halls had gradually emptied in his wake. You hadn't made eye contact with anyone the entire time, instead choosing to hide your face in Ghost’s chest. Maybe König’s teammates were offering you sympathetic or supportive nods. But at the risk of finding them doing the opposite, it was just easier not to look at them at all.
The entire night just made you feel so ashamed and guilty. After the whole team had seen how much König was attached to you over the past week, how much he loved you? You worried that everyone would turn on you now. And you couldn't really blame them if they did. They'd known König far longer than they'd known you. So of course they'd likely close ranks around one of their own before sticking their necks out for a girl they’d only known for a few days. You’d grown close to them all, but not as close as the deep bond they shared as soldiers. Seeing just how hurt König had been once everything had come out, you shuddered to think how others might respond to you going forward. Maybe they’d shoot you ugly looks, whispering insults or judgemental words behind your back. Maybe you’d end up sitting alone at a mess hall table for every meal while they avoided you like the plague. Maybe they’d give you the silent treatment until you finally broke and went back home. None of those were given outcomes, but they were still possible. They could happen all too easily and you didn't want to find out if they would. You were determined not to.
"Princess," Ghost hummed, hovering in the doorway of your room. "You don't have to do this."
You ran the back of your hand over your eyes, brushing away the tears that wouldn't stop flowing from them. But the gesture didn’t really help to stop your crying. Despite your blurry vision, you continued to stumble around your room as you packed your things. You didn't even take the time to change out of your party dress. Your makeup was irreparably streaked from all the emotion of the night. But none of those things mattered at the moment. The only thing on your mind was getting away from the barracks and away from the base as quickly as physically possible.
"I do," you sniffled, shoving your shoes into your duffle bag and yanking the zipper shut. "I should leave before I make things any worse. Because if it does, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it."
Ghost fell silent for a moment, silently watching you strip the last traces of your presence from the small room. He didn’t want you to go anywhere. Everything in him wanted you to stay as long as you could, to be his across-the-hall neighbor forever. He would have signed the recruitment papers himself if it meant you’d never have to leave. But at the same time, he understood the knee-jerk reaction that was playing out before him. You were hurting and in pain. That much was obvious. But what was less obvious was what he saw in your eyes. Though they were currently puffy and red, your pupils were blown out in pure panic. They held all the markings of internal torment gone too far. And the urge to respond to it by turning tail and running like hell was a coping mechanism he knew all too well. So, he stayed silent as you did just that, not wanting to add to your stress. After a long stretch of silence, Ghost took a deep breath, almost as if he was bracing for something painful. But then he finally spoke.
"...You wanna leave me too?"
"No," you whimpered, rushing towards the sound of his voice. You could just make out the blurry shape of his form near the doorway, so you ran for him and hugged him tightly as you shook your head. "I don't want to leave you. I need you more than ever right now. I just… I just can't stay here."
Ghost let out a breath, a bit of relief washing over him as he hugged you back. "You can stay in my room from now on," he offered. "That way you won't be alone."
"But your team. All your friends, König’s friends. The captain," you rambled through your tears. "I can't face them right now. Not now, not after tonight. One question or one disappointed look and I'm going to break. I just can't."
"Okay, okay," Ghost shushed you, rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. "We can leave, get away for a while. Come on."
After planting a tender kiss on the top of your head, he pulled back and held out his arms to take your bags. Once he had the straps comfortably situated on his shoulders, he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before crossing the hall to his own room. It didn't take him long to pack a bag for himself. Ever prepared, he always had a back of supplies ready to go in case something happened. And while this wasn’t exactly the emergency he’d envisioned when he’d staged it for himself, it still made him grateful he’d done it. He only lingered in his room for a few moments, grabbing a few extra items he thought would be useful: a soft blanket to wrap you in, his phone charger, and an extra pack of cigarettes. Once he was satisfied with his collection, he locked the door to his room and silently extended both arms towards you. At first, you didn't know what he was trying to communicate. But when he made a beckoning motion, waving you over towards him, you finally understood. You accepted the sweet gesture, approaching and letting him lift you into his arms.
After tucking the fleece blanket around your body and ensuring your own door was locked, Ghost gently carried you through the empty halls and out into the night air. No one was around to see them go, but Ghost knew their absence wouldn’t go unnoticed for very long. So he made a mental note to text Price later on to fill him in on the situation. It was very possible Price could be a bit cross with him too and the last thing he wanted was for the situation to multiply into an even bigger problem. So getting ahead of it as much as he could and saying his piece was a good idea. That would come later though. For now, his only priority was getting his girl somewhere she could feel safe. His girl . Just the thought made his pulse quicken. She’d bravely walked a treacherous road of pain and suffering, all to get to him. To be with him . And in return, he’d make sure she never had to go through something like that ever again. Not at his hands or anyone else’s. Ghost held her even closer in his arms, vowing then and there to never let her go. She was really his. It had really happened. It had really happened!
"I'm so proud of you, princess," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "I know it was hard. I know it still is. But you did the right thing."
"Thanks," you sniffled. "I just feel like shit still."
"I know. But I'm gonna take care of you. I promise."
"Where are we gonna go?" You asked, looking up at him.
Ghost chuckled, heading towards his car. "I know just the place."
--------------------
Usually, you were a very curious passenger on car rides. You were always on the edge of your seat, head on a swivel for anything pretty or intriguing that flew past along the way. All your friends now knew that if you were with them for any drive longer than fifteen minutes, it would become an endless (and quite enjoyable) tour through every road trip game known to man. But that energetic personality was not at large tonight. Tonight, you sat curled up in a little ball in your seat, content to just shut your eyes and let the silence envelope you as the vehicle sped along. Ghost had lowered the windows, hoping the fresh night air would help you relax a bit more. And he’d been right. The air was cool against your skin and the scent of pine filled the air. You didn't know where you were headed, but those aspects alone helped you feel a thousand miles away from the drama of the night. If you opened your eyes to find Ghost was just driving in circles somewhere this whole time, it would still be just as soothing of a ride.
"You sleeping over there?" Ghost asked, glancing over at you. But when you shook your head, he gave a grunt of acknowledgment and went back to focusing on the road ahead. "We're almost there. It won’t be much longer, I promise."
It was hard to tell if you had dozed off or not after that brief conversation. Either you had really been just around the corner from his destination or a short rest made it appear so. But either way, you soon opened your eyes when you felt the car begin to slow. Fallen twigs and rubble crunched under the tires as you coasted into an opening in the thick forestation. And as the trees parted around you, a little cabin came into view up ahead. It wasn't drab or shoddy. It was actually well-built and in impressive shape. Just from a glance, you could tell the builder had but the utmost care into even the smallest of details. The style was modern and comfortable, like a hidden camping resort!
"You have a cabin?" You asked, stretching and sitting up in surprise.
"Yep," Ghost chuckled. "This is where I go to clear my head sometimes. Figured it might help you too."
You leaned your head out of the window, eager to take in all the details you could see in the headlights glow. When most men in your life said they had a cabin in the woods, you'd be impressed if it had four functional walls and a roof. But this wasn’t that. This was just spectacular. As he drove up to the front of the dwelling, you could see an inviting porch complete with a wooden loveseat. The front door was set back beneath the covered entryway, framed by two large windows. And the windows had curtains! From a distance, you couldn’t make out the finer details of the home too well. But from where you sat, it looked like the door was embellished with a beautiful carved design.
"Ghost, this is just beautiful!" You squealed, spirits instantly lifting. "How much did you pay for this place! Was it expensive?"
"Yes and no. I built it myself, so it's cheaper than most like it I guess."
"You built this?" You whipped around, jaw dropping in shock.
"Wasn't that hard." Ghost shrugged awkwardly, unaccustomed to such exuberant praise for his work. "Just a lot of time. It's really not all that."
Finally, the car rolled to a stop and Ghost quickly shut the engine off. Doing so plunged both of you into inky blackness, but he was quick to produce a flashlight to light the way ahead. After gathering your belongings from the trunk, Ghost slowly led the way to the front door. Every few steps, he’d glance back over his shoulder as if to ensure you were still there following behind him. And though he didn’t say so, you suspected he was intentionally taking shorter strides for the same reason. You weren’t even a full day into a relationship with him, but his protective nature was already in full force. If there were wild animals or unsavory persons lurking in the trees, heaven help them if they so much as looked at you. It was then that you realized you didn’t really need to go to the ends of the earth to feel at ease. Now that you were away from the base, nothing made you feel safer than knowing Ghost was right there with you.
"Go on," Ghost prompted with a smile, unlocking the door. He reached inside to flip a light switch and then hung back, propping the door open for you. "Welcome to the Riley Residence. Make yourself at home."
TW: Breakups, TW: Heartbreak, TW: Emotional Turmoil, TW: Grief, TW: Dissociation, TW: Panic Attacks, TW: Using Violence as a Coping Mechanism, Distraught König, Distraught Reader, Supportive Ghost, Supportive 141
This chapter is pain, I won't deny it. If you want to increase that pain level (you sick little rascal lol), play "Come Back To Us" by Thomas Newman in the background as you read. That's what I listened to as I wrote it.
(Also, I've added a more serious note at the end of the chapter because a lot has been on my mind. It's very personal and raw, but I just need to say it. And since it impacted how frequently I updated this ending, I thought my readers deserved to know what's going on. So I'll leave that there for you to look through after the chapter.)
Reader POV:
Both you and Ghost froze in place. And for a moment, it felt as if time had come to a screeching halt. Your mouth opened and closed as you frantically searched for something to say. Anything to tell him to set him at ease. But the panic that had been slowly building all this time had reached its maximum. No words came out because you couldn’t find a single one. All you could do was sit there trembling and trying not to cry.
“Easy, König,” Ghost said carefully, resituating his clothes before raising his hands. Every move he made was painfully slow as he tried to cool König’s building temper “It’s not what it looks like.”
“You think I’m a fool?” König screamed, lunging at him. “I trusted you! But I turn my back for five seconds and you put your filthy hands on my Maus? You try to take her away from me?”
You cowered, afraid König would barrel into you as he charged at Ghost. But all you felt was a rush of air across your skin as König rushed past you towards his chosen target. Ghost retreated. He tried to dodge. But in the confined space, there was just nowhere for him to go. You heard a sickening thud as König’s fist collided with Ghost’s face. But Ghost wasn’t putting up a fight. Having faced off with him yourself, you knew he could have done so easily and likely won in the end. But though his fists clenched at his sides and he grunted in pain, he didn’t strike back. And he maintained his uncharacteristically peaceful approach as König seized him by the throat.
“Give me one reason,” König hissed, slamming Ghost against the wall so hard you were surprised he didn’t break clean through. “One reason I shouldn’t kill you where you stand. Even then, I just might anyway.”
“König, don’t!” You screamed, begging for the chaos to just stop. “Please!”
But your pleas fell on deaf ears. Ghost wheezed, gasping for breath. But he didn’t claw at König’s hand or try to push him off. From your place on the floor, you saw his eyes maintaining steady contact with König’s murderous glare. And for half a second, his eyes flicked down to where you sat.
“Don’t fucking look at her!” König roared, tightening his hold. “You look at me and you answer me!”
Ghost obediently averted his gaze. But when he spoke, you knew he was talking directly to you.
“Tell him,” he forced the words out as his throat threatened to close completely. “Tell-”
“Du Arschloch! Fine, don’t talk. I will enjoy watching the light fade from your eyes.”
You looked on with horror as König drew a knife. And in his current state, you had a sickening feeling it wasn’t just meant as a threat. He was actually going to kill him if you didn’t do something to make him stop. As he raised the point of the blade to Ghost’s throat, you charged at him and pleadingly clutched his leg.
He looked down at your pitiful display, confusion flickering through beneath the coursing rage he felt. But he did stop. The knife hovered horrifically close to Ghost’s exposed skin, but it did not advance any further.
“Maus,” he asked, his voice dropping low. “Why are you defending him?”
The level of calmness in his voice was frightening. It reminded you of the serene surface of an ocean, masterfully concealing the deadly rip current that lurked just beneath it and waited to drag unwitting victims to a grisly demise. Your mind whirled as you searched for the right words to say. You’d had so much time to prepare for this and still couldn’t string two words together in a coherent explanation.
“She wants out,” Ghost interceded on your behalf, his words came out choked and strained. “She wants you to let her go so she can be with me!”
Though his eyes narrowed, König didn’t even bother to look at him. He squeezed harder, effectively silencing him as he cut off Ghost’s air supply. But his eyes remained trained on you.
“Tell me he’s lying,” he growled, chest heaving. “Tell me he’s lying and let me rip out his tongue!”
He was begging you to end the nightmare he felt closing in. Pleading with you to ease his deepest fears so he could carry on. But you just couldn’t. There was no going back now. The plate had already begun to fall and there was nothing you could do to soften the blow.
Tears began freely flowing down your face as you began to sob, lowering your head. You couldn’t bear to look at him as your next words tore his heart from his chest. But you nodded, speaking in a small and shaking voice.
“It’s true. König, it’s true and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
You let out a small, startled scream when König lurched towards you. After seeing the fierceness of his anger, you were afraid of what he might do. Behind him, Ghost coughed and gasped for breath as soon as König let him go. And there was a loud thud as König threw the knife across the room, the blade imbedding itself in the wall from the force. He grabbed your shoulders in a near bruising grip, sinking to his knees in front of you and shaking you as if it would bring you to your senses.
“No!” he gasped, still unwilling to believe what he had just heard. “No, you don't mean that! Maus! Tell me you don't mean that!"
"I can't!" You were wailing now, eyes wide in terror. "I-I love him!"
There was no way to twist that raw declaration. There was no going back. It was over. It was done. König recoiled at your words, letting out an audible gasp of pain.
"You used me," he whimpered, his voice dropping again as he tried to make sense of it all. "You used me to get close to him? All this time? Did I ever even mean anything to you?"
"Yes! You did! König, I loved you! More than anything!"
"Loved," he echoed the word with a wince. "I never stood a chance, did I? I thought you were different. I hoped we could- You never loved me!"
His voice rose to a shrill wail as the grief and anger finally hit him in the stomach. You reached out for him out of pure instinct. "König, that's not true! I-"
"Liar!"
He screamed at you, shoving your arm away in disgust. The reaction was so forceful that it sent you tumbling backward onto the floor. You cowered there, scared to move or even breathe. And when you heard a flurry of footsteps rush towards you, you hid your face and braced for impact. But it never came.
Ghost had stumbled forward, hurriedly shoving himself between you and König. He threw up a protective arm, blocking access to you should König attempt to follow.
"Don't," he growled, facing off with König. "If you wanna yell, you yell at me. You wanna hit someone, then you hit me. But you touch her and I will tear you apart."
"You're the only person I have left! You were my only happiness! And I still love you!" König yelled, his voice raw as angry tears began to overflow. "I gave you everything I had! I trusted you and you used it to stab me in the back!"
His words mangled as sobs swiftly replaced them, shaking his whole frame. The sounds of pain and grief that came from his mouth. They were haunting. They were gut-wrenching. They were tortuous to hear.
"I never wanted to hurt you," you cried, desperate to ease his suffering. "I can’t explain how it happened, but it did. I just want you to understand."
"Please," he gasped through his tears. "Bitte- Please don't leave me, Maus. You're the only person I have left. My only happiness. I don't want to understand! I want you to stay!"
"But what about her? What about what she wants?" Ghost seethed, pushing back. There was undeniable anger in his voice, but he still tried his best to be the calmer voice of reason. "You really gonna hold her captive when she wants to go? She deserves to have her needs met. She deserves to be happy! And if you truly love her, you'd want that. Not just for yourself, but for her too."
König went quiet. His eyes were pleading with you, silently screaming for you to wake him from his worst fear. But when you covered your face and just softly wept, something in him changed. His voice went unsettlingly calm. And just like that, he was no longer really there. The only way he could cope with everything he was feeling was to escape. To dissociate and not feel them at all. And though you'd never seen him use it, it was an approach you knew all too well.
"You really mean it," he gasped. "This is really happening. I… I wish to be alone."
You could tell by the sudden coldness in his eyes that he was shutting down. He was forcing his pain into the tiniest corner of his mind. Instead of feeling all of this at once, he'd chosen to just feel nothing at all.
"König, please. I'm- I'm so sorry."
You scrambled to your feet. And before you could think better of it, you pulled him into a tight hug. You held him as if just by the contact, you could somehow shoulder a fraction of his pain. But he didn’t hug you back. He stood there frozen, arms hanging limply at his sides. His gaze was detached and a million miles away. It was clear that he'd completely shut down.
"Don't touch me."
"König, please. Talk to me. Please."
"I said don't touch me!" He snapped, shoving you away from him. "I wish to be alone."
Those were the last words he spoke before storming out of the room. As you watched him go, you moved to run after him. But Ghost held you back with a small shake of his head
"I know you mean well," he murmured sympathetically. "But I wouldn't push him right now. I know, princess. I know."
He pulled you into a gentle hug, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest. You were free. You had done the deed. But at the moment, joy or relief felt like pipedreams. You'd never hurt anyone like this. And you had hoped to go through life without having to. But here you were, surrounded by the wreckage of a dream lay shattered. You were free, but at what cost?
Suddenly, another sound rose over your own tears. For a moment, you truly thought it was the sound of your heart breaking. But when you heard it a second time, you knew it wasn't in your head. It was glass. The shattering of glass. It was the sound of violence. Even down the hall, you heard the unmistakable wails of König’s voice. And it was accented with guttural cursing and sounds of destruction. He had shut down at first, but it hadn't taken long for the emotions to break the dam and flood his mind. And by the sounds filling the barracks halls, he wasn't equipped to handle them. His training, his skills, his weapons. With them, he could face any obstacle in the field. But nothing he had could help him right now. Nothing could stop him from losing it. And he was most certainly losing it.
Ghost felt you tense. He knew what your next move would be and he knew nothing he said or did would be able to stop it. So when you tore yourself away from his embrace and sprinted down the hall, he let you go. You didn't know if Ghost followed. You didn't know if anyone else had overheard or were coming to help. You just ran. You ran towards the noise, fear and guilt and concern fueling every stride.
When you reached the doorway, you immediately ducked as a picture frame whizzed past before shattering against the wall behind you. König's treasured blanket that you'd given him had been sliced into scraps. From the gashes in its surface, it was clear he had used a knife to do it. And it didn't take you long to find it. Your stuffed bear lay impaled on his bed, the hilt of one of his knives jutting out of its center. Its delicate stitches had been torn apart, leaving gaping holes in its surface. Letters of passion and love you didn’t even know he'd kept littered the floor in shreds. And in the center of it all was König. He was on his knees, screaming in pure anguish and bashing his fist into a framed image of both of you. The glass had already broken, but he wasn’t stopping. The jagged pieces of glass broke smaller and smaller, the tiny daggers embedding into his blood-streaked knuckles with every blow. But he didn't feel it or didn't care. There was only one pain he felt right now and nothing else in the world could come close to it. With a choked scream of grief, he snapped the frame in half and sent the remains flying out the door above your head. And it was then that he saw you. His eyes were puffy and red. They looked wild, almost deranged. And as he literally shook with emotion, all you could do was sit there and try to make him feel less alone.
"Why wasn't I enough for you?" He wailed. You jumped as his desk chair slammed against his bedroom wall before clattering to the floor. "Why wasn't my love enough?"
"König…," you breathed, tears stopping your words.
"I loved you!" He wailed. "I trusted you! You were my everything! I gave you all of me! And then you threw me away like garbage!"
His breathing was erratic, coming in frantic gasps that were far too shallow. His hands were shaking and by now, he was crying uncontrollably.
"König, just breathe for me okay?" You rushed, unsure of what to do. "I know it hurts and I wish I could make it stop. But you're scaring me. Please. Just breathe and let's talk this out."
"How can you ask me to be calm when you just ripped out my heart?" He clutched his chest, fighting to catch his breath but unwilling to delay pouring out his pain. "You-you ask me to breathe! Every fucking breathe I took, I took for you! I can't… I can't-"
König sank to the floor, his breath coming in short gasps that couldn't fill his lungs. He slumped over on his hands and knees, shaking as he struggled to breathe. And the sight made your panic spike to new heights.
"König!" You rushed to his side. Your hands hovered over his body, both afraid to touch him again and unsure of how to help. "Come on, König. You have to breathe. Stay with me!"
He didn't answer. He couldn't. But he clutched your arms, eyes wide in terror and panic. His body couldn't handle violent sobs and screams while keeping everything else in motion. And it was currently choosing everything but the things he needed most.
"Help! Someone help!" You screamed, holding him close. "He can't breathe! König, please! König!"
Fortunately, the response came instantly. There was no doubt everyone there had heard the ruckus. But though they respectfully did not intrude and gave you as much privacy as they could, all of that changed when you called for aid. Doors slammed open and frantic footsteps filled the halls. Though Ghost was the first to arrive, he hung back knowing he was likely the very last person König wanted to see right now. But Price was the first to come rushing into the room and Soap was right on his heels. The entire taskforce had leapt into action, immediately filling the room and surrounding the scene.
"Get back," Price barked over his shoulder, tugging König out of your arms. "Give him space."
Price relocated König to the side of his room, being careful to avoid the broken glass before propping him against the wall. Soap knelt beside him, grabbing his chin and raising his head.
"Come on, mate," he said, firm and calm. "Breathe with me. In and out, you can do this."
König's eyes were wild as he clutched Soap’s arm, trying to focus on synchronizing his breaths with his. Price crouched in front of him, quickly tugging off his hood and fanning him to cool him off. It took an agonizingly long time. But gradually, König's breathing began to calm. He took a deep inhalation, his body thankful for the supply. And after a few more such breaths, he regained control. Now finally able to breathe without strain, the emotions returned full force all over again. König buried his face in Soap’s shirt and sobbed. He didn't care that his whole team was watching. He didn't care that everyone had seen his face. The pain was too all-consuming to leave room for it. All he could do was cry. And as the low, mournful sounds poured out, Soap did his best to soothe him. To keep him calm.
"I'm here, Soap's gotcha," he murmured, holding him close and rubbing his back. "It's gonna be okay."
You sobbed right along with him. And Ghost was right there to hold you as you did. There were no secrets anymore. Everyone knew and there was no point in hiding it. And though Soap chanted his words of comfort, there were of no help to you. The last thing you felt right now was that everything would ever be okay again.
This note is from a little over a year ago, but was included when I originally posted this on AO3. Time has passed, but the general message is still worth saying
(TW: Mention of death, suicide, depression, and mental health)
Hey everyone. In light of the past few weeks, it felt right for me to leave you a more vulnerable and serious note. I've had a lot on my mind over these past few weeks and if you've noticed my posting pace take a hit, this is why. Work is always a bear and it keeps me running to the point of exhaustion. And life never pulls its punches. But on top of all of that, I received news last week that my childhood best friend committed suicide. Unfortunately, after I graduated from college and started working, my life brought struggles of its own. My own depression, a life-long battle with narcolepsy, acclimating to married life, and the stress of my career all took over as my priorities. But I have so much regret knowing I let our friendship grow distant while she was battling her own demons and losing. She fought hard. And when we parted ways, I stupidly believed she had gotten through the worst of it. But she was still struggling and I'll never know what pushed her over the edge in the end. I wish I could have been there for her, checked in more, and reminded her that she wasn't alone. But all I can do now is push forward, reflect on our happy memories, and promise myself to be more intentional with the time I have. Because it is so so precious. And we never know when the next time we see the faces of the ones we love so dearly will be our last.
All of that said, I know this chapter carries a lot of pain and emotion in it. I admittedly used these past few chapters to sort through my own grief and loss. I process tough feelings by writing, about whatever is on my mind or about anything at all. And as I heal, things have gotten easier with time. But I wanted to leave a serious note for my readers. I don't know what struggles each of you may be facing or what demons you may be fighting. But I owe it to her and to each of you to remind you that you are not alone. If you ever need someone to talk to, you can always talk to me. That is not a promise I make lightly. If you message me, I will answer the minute I am able. If you ever need to talk, I will be there as soon as I can. We may not know each other well, but I genuinely care and want you to know that. Please reach out in your darkest times, even when your brain might be telling you to do the opposite. Because though I'm sure my friend felt like no one cared anymore, the full room at her funeral showed exactly the opposite. She was deeply loved. You are deeply loved. And if you are struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide, please call the Suicide Intervention Hotline and get the support you need. The support you deserve. The world is a much brighter place with each of you in it. So please don't put out your light. Hold your loved ones close. Whether family, friends, chosen family, etc. Love actively. Love passionately. Love bravely. Love like there is no tomorrow so that when that time comes, you'll have no regrets.
If you or someone you know if struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org
Short chapter for today. But the next one won't be so short. Let the suffering begin. Oh boy...
Reader POV:
As the two men chatted beside Ghost’s closet, you sat in Ghost’s desk chair trying not to fidget. You had considered grabbing the first seating option you encountered, eager to minimize your present and fade into the background. But that first option was his bed and you certainly wanted to steer clear of the inviting looking pillows and blankets. Just by sitting on his bed, the very place you knew Ghost craved you most, you knew your face would go through every shade of red known to man as your mind wandered to shameful places. And Ghost seeing you do it would likely conjure the very same response in him. You worried he'd do something or say something. All he had to do was get caught staring at you with lust in his eyes one time and you were fucked. So the simple wooden chair was a far less treacherous option to take.
For the most part, your strategy seemed to be working. König was leaning against the wall beside the closet, watching Ghost root around through his own stash of clothing. Occasionally, Ghost would wordlessly hold out a garment for König to inspect. But so far, everything he put in front of him was either rejected or met with uncertainty. Eventually, König gave up decision making and sought some inspiration.
"This is too hard,” he sighed. “You've been to clubs before, right Ghost? What are you going to wear?"
"That," Ghost muttered, gesturing towards his duffle bag. It sat at the foot of his bed and on top of it was a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
"Really?" König looked surprised. But as much as he trusted Ghost, he could have said he would go buck naked and he would have confidently followed suit.
Ghost crossed his arms, quickly growing impatient. "If it's good enough for the base, it's good enough for a night out."
König picked up the shirt, inspecting it before giving the jeans a once over. "Do you have any more of these that I could borrow?"
"No. And we're not matching either." Ghost reached back into his closet and produced a pair of black joggers. He tossed them at König before turning back in search of another shirt for himself. "Wear the shirt. And those pants should fit fine. I'll just wear something else. But I'm warning you. You soil em, you're washing em."
"Thanks, Ghost," König said, the corners of eyes crinkling as he grinned. "I guess I'll go get dressed then."
König made his way towards the door, but Ghost waved his hand at him. "Just change here. That way, if something doesn't fit right, we can just switch it out. Won't be anything your girl hasn't seen before and all I'm doing I'm changing my shirt."
Without waiting for a response, Ghost tugged his shirt over his head and continued his search. But König persisted and you knew exactly why. It's not like it was anything you hadn’t seen before. And from the communal structure of the showers, you doubted it was Ghost’s eyes he was worried about. No, it was about you. About before. He was worried seeing him like that would be too tempting, too alluring. You could see it in his eyes, the way he nervously looked at you before quickly looking away.
"It's alright, I'll be quick," he said firmly, grabbing the knob and striding out into the hall. "I'll be back if I have any trouble. Thanks, Ghost."
Ghost grunted in response, letting you close the door before he spoke again. And once you had, he cast an accusing glance over his shoulder.
"You haven't told him yet?"
"No!" You hissed, sinking back against the door in defeat and keeping your voice low. "I haven't figured out how to yet!"
Ghost stood and turned towards you, rolling his eyes. "It's not that complicated, princess. 'Hey König. This isn't working out and I have feelings for someone else.' That's it! That's all it takes!"
"I know! I'm going to tell him, I will! I just- I just wanted to wait until after we got back home tonight!”
Ghost crossed his arms, not the slightest bit convinced. Through the fabric of his mask, you could see him briefly clench his jaw. But though he was clearly frustrated, he kept his tone level.
"...You're stalling, aren’t you?"
"No!" You threw your hands up in exasperation. "I just wanted one more night before things changed. One more night to think everything over! What if I'm making a mistake? What if I'm rushing into this and I regret it?"
"Nope, you're stalling," Ghost deduced, his eyes taking in every detail of your face. Your body language. Nothing escaped his eyes now. He knew you too well at this point. "I really wish you wouldn't, but I understand why. You're scared of what this means and you're scared of hurting him."
"Yes, I'm scared! Okay? I don't wanna hurt him! Just thinking about the look in his eyes when I tell him…"
Your voice trailed off as the horrifying scene played out in your mind. König's eyes filled with pain and bitter tears, looking at you like you'd shot him through the heart. And though the scenario was currently only in your mind, it made your stomach churn violently. It made you want to vomit. The sheer terror sucked the oxygen out of the room and your lungs burned in your chest. Ghost drew closer, gently taking your hand as you tried to fill your lungs with air. But though the gesture would have usually calmed you, all you felt was grief and nausea.
"Princess," he shushed you, rubbing your arm. "I know. I know it's hard. But the longer you draw this out, the more it's gonna hurt. You're not doing yourself any favors running from it. I'm not trying to rush you for my sake. I promise I'm trying to help you."
You could hear his words, but couldn't muster a response. The fear that continued to curdle in your stomach had tripled in force. It felt like the world was spinning too fast and it was making everything feel hazy and unfocused. You needed to sit down. Now.
"It's just so scary! I'm so scared," you whimpered, trying to calm yourself down. But nothing was working. "I just-"
You stumbled forward in a desperate move towards the bed towards the nearest surface that could support your weight. Ghost backpedaled, surprised by the sudden burst of movement. And, after two shaky steps, you shocked him further when you began to collapse. Your knees buckled beneath you, and the world tilted as you started to fall. Ghost lunged toward you, reacting quickly but not quickly enough to catch you.
Your arms flailed for anything to stop your downward trajectory. Anything to break your fall. And the first thing your hands found was the fabric of Ghost’s sweatpants. The sudden yank shifted the fabric, tugging the waistband down his thighs. And when you looked up, your face went beet red when you came face to face with the crotch of his boxers.
There was no time to react. There was no time to speak. Both of you just froze in shocked silence. There was an obscene tent over his groin as his erection strained against the fabric. Without the thickened fleece of his pants to keep it concealed, his need was plain as day and quite literally staring you in the face.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-,” you looked up at him, forcing your eyes away from the sight. “I’m so sorry.”
Ghost’s eyes were wide, but the skin around them was pulled taut. You could see clear strain in his face as he no doubt resisted the urge to seize the unforeseen moment. You on your knees in front of him, face upturned and eyes innocent? It would be so easy for him to make this happen. All it would take was the removal of one last layer of fabric and a firm hand on the back of your head to finally have your soft lips wrapped around him just like he craved. He didn’t need to say it. His eyes conveyed the brief idea all too clearly. The silent wish was as plain to you as if he had spoken the words.
But though your suspicion was very close to the truth, it was not entirely accurate. Close, but not quite. Though Ghost’s mind stalled, it quickly filled with insistent voices shortly thereafter. His mind screamed at him to make a bold move. It would be so simple. It was so tempting. All he had to do was grab your throat, shove your face into his pillows, and rail you until you blacked out from pleasure. Hearing your muffled whimpers while he forced you to take every throbbing inch of him. Watching your face flush as he ripped moan after moan from your mouth. As he claimed you, marked you, and made you his as brutally as his mind was telling him to. As thoroughly as he desperately wanted to. But he squeezed his eyes shut and pushed back. It took every ounce of strength he had to do it and his mind resisted just as stubbornly. But he kept pushing until he muscled his way through it. With a shuddered sigh, he reached down and began to tug his pants back into place again.
“I know,” he rasped, his voice noticeably rougher than before. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “Are you okay?”
There was burning desire in his eyes, but there was also tenderness. He was choosing to set his own needs aside, instead focusing on making sure you were okay. He meant what he said and was sticking to it. No more pushing, no more force, no more tactics. As badly as he wanted you and you wanted him, he was determined to wait for you to make the first move. And though your heart couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or disappointed, the consideration he was showing touched your heart. You nodded, opening your mouth to speak. But before you could answer, the door swung open behind you and a familiar voice called out.
“Ghost?" König asked, focused on his clothes and not yet looking up. "Are these pants supposed to fit like this? They feel-”
You couldn’t turn around. You couldn’t face him. Both of you knew exactly how this looked. And in light of everything that had been going on between you and König, you knew exactly where his mind would land once it stopped reeling. At it wasn't anywhere pleasant. You winced as König’s footsteps thundered in behind you, making you wish the floor would just swallow you whole. But you took a deep breath and finally turned to face him.
He stood at your back, silently seething with fury as he took in the scene. You, face flushed bright red, kneeling at Ghost’s feet and clutching the front of his lowered pants. Ghost, staring down at you, his pants still resting at mid-thigh, his groin hovering inches from your face, and the prominent evidence of his excitement pressing out against the fabric of his boxers. You’d never been scared of König before. His stature and size had given you pause at first. It had that effect on everyone. But once you got to know him - his docile nature and gentle eyes - who could be scared of him like that? But now, his eyes looked murderous. They flashed threateningly, his icy stare searing into your skin and then burning into Ghost's face as he screamed.
Don't worry, everything is gonna blow up in our faces very very soon *insert sobbing noises here*
Reader POV:
It wasn't long before the barracks refilled with the usual hustle and bustle of activity. The mess hall staff were pleasantly surprised when the dinner hour was short and sweet. Team members filed in, filled their plates, promptly polished them off, and filed back out. No one lingered any longer than they had to. Everyone was eager to freshen up and get dressed for an exciting night on the town. Music blared from the shower as all the men quickly scrubbed themselves clean and dressed in their best street clothes.
Luckily, you had timed your own shower just right and missed the evening rush. So, while everyone else crowded into the bathroom to shower or shave, you were happily perched on König’s bed, finishing your makeup. You'd chosen to relocate your preparations to his room so that you could get some extra time with him. And it was seeming like it had been the right choice.
König probably should have been getting dressed by now. Instead, he sat cross-legged beside the bed and was thoroughly fascinated with every step of your makeup routine. You finished applying your setting powder with a fluffy kabuki brush. And as the powder settled, you began carefully applying your eyeliner.
"What does this do?" König asked, plucking the small container off the bed and turning it in his hand.
You were mid stroke on your left eye and hurriedly finished it off in a tasteful cat eye. But by the time you were done, König was already unscrewing the lid on the small jar and curiously peering inside.
"It's just setting powder," you laughed, watching him dip his fingertip into the fine granules and lift it to his face for a closer look. "You put it on after other stuff to make everything nice and smooth."
"I thought that's what the…" he paused, reading the label on a nearby bottle. "Primer. I thought it already did that."
"Well, yes and no. It's kinda complicated."
König laughed, eyes still filled with wonder. "I don't think I will ever understand it. But you are very good at it."
You blushed, happy you'd forgone adding too much color to your cheeks. At the rate your face turned red over the past few days, you knew you likely wouldn't need it anyway.
"Thanks, babe. But you should probably start getting ready too."
"Fine," König huffed, climbing to his feet. You reached for the brush again, ready to dust off the excess powder before messing with your hair. But it had vanished from its place, now gently held in König's hand.
"Can I do this last part first?" He asked, sitting on the bed. "I would like to try."
"Sure," you grinned, closing your eyes.
The feathery sensation of the brush began gently sweeping across your skin. He moved in slow, careful strokes. He started at your forehead and gradually made his way across every inch of your face. Once you were certain none would get in your eyes, you looked up at him as he worked. He leaned in close to your face, eyes focused and serious. It was clear that he wanted to do the job well and didn't want to ruin all of your hard work. Every contact the brush made with your skin was done with care and precision.
As the downy bristles made their way to your jaw, his eyes met yours. He was so close that you could see his pupils dilate, the stormy gray color of his eyes going soft and peaceful. He didn't have to say it. He didn't have to open his mouth to tell you just how much he loved you. His eyes said everything and more. It both warmed your heart and stung. You felt like a traitor just before treason. Like Judas just receiving those precious pieces of silver. You knew what was coming, what was going to happen. And he had no idea. He was still blissfully in love with no clue what heartbreak lay waiting just around the corner. And in this moment, you wished that corner would never come.
The brush did one final arc along your jaw, the light touch making you shiver. He wanted to kiss you. His eyes said it. His body language screamed it. But though his gaze flitted down to your parted lips and lingered there, he shook himself out of the urge and slowly stood. And that action reminded you why that corner had come to be.
“König,” you said, voice hesitant. “Please don’t push me away. It hurts.”
Halfway to the closet, he froze. For a few long seconds, he just stood there with his back to you. But eventually, his shoulders slumped a bit and he slowly turned around.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Maus,” he said, not meeting your eyes as he carefully selected his words. “I’m trying not to hurt you.”
You sighed, looking down as well. “By moving away every time I try to touch you? By wanting to kiss me but making yourself walk away? How is that not gonna hurt?”
“...I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
“Just-just love me,” you said pitifully, voice breaking. “Let me love you.”
“But you want- you need things I can’t provide. You’re asking me to take and take without being able to give back just as much. I love you. And I want to show it, I do. I just… I need time to figure out how.”
He paused, giving you the perfect opening to broach a dreadful topic. But though it scared you, maybe there was a less painful option to choose from. What if he felt the same way you did deep down? What if he wanted to break things off and just didn’t know how to say it? If he did, it would sting a bit. But it would still bring far less pain than the only other choice you had.
“König?” You began, heart pounding in your chest. “Do you want to split up? Is all of this just too much? Because if it is, it’s okay. I totally understand.”
König’s head snapped up and met your eyes with panic, frantically shaking his head as he rushed over to the bed. “What?! No, no, no! No, Maus. That’s not at all what I’m saying. I love you just as much as I always have! Nothing can make that go away. Nothing! I’m just so new to all of this and don’t know what I’m supposed to do to make it better. And I’m sorry. Please... Let me make it better.”
“But I don’t,” you wanted to say. “I don’t want to stay together anymore. I can’t go on like this. It’s too painful.”
But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You didn’t have the heart to let the fateful words cross your lips when he had just adamantly declared the exact opposite. The truth by itself was heartless enough as it was. But revealing it on the heels of something like that? That wasn’t just heartless. It was cruel.
Instead of speaking, you gave him a slow nod and let him take your hand in his. You wanted him to hug you. You wanted to feel his body touch yours again, his warmth melting your cares away. But he still cautiously held back. That same flicker of anxiety was still present in his eyes. He was scared too, but for entirely different reasons. He was terrified of doing something wrong or pushing too far. He was thoroughly convinced any act of intimacy would somehow rouse the specific desires you had, cause you pain, and make you suffer anymore than you already were. But most of all, he was terrified of losing you - the first spark of light he'd had found after so many dark and lonely days.
After murmuring words of love, care, and apology in your ear, he finally let go of your hand and returned to the closet. And you sat on the bed, feeling numb and conflicted. Uncomfortable silence filled the space as you began styling your hair. You could hear him rummaging around in the closet behind you and begin to get dressed. The temptation to glance over your shoulder as he stripped down was strong. You wanted to see his body again. You wanted to touch him again and you wanted him to touch you. But you also knew where that would lead. And if even a mere kiss was more than he was willing to give you, suggesting such a thing would certainly meet swift rejection. The kind of rejection you weren't sure your heart could handle right now. So you resisted the urge, cleared your mind, and threw yourself into detangling your curls. And you let the stubborn knots of hair consume your focus for a good while. And focusing on the frustrating task helped you lift your spirits a bit again.
"Does this look okay?"
König broke the silence and turned around in front of the closet, looking very much out of his comfort zone. He tugged at his tie, stress and anxiety swirling in his eyes. He looked like a torture victim, the starched collar of his white shirt was his prison, and the neck of his tie the noose.
"Oh, König," you said, rushing over to help him. "Sweetie, you don't have to wear all that!"
"B-but I wanted to look my best," he stammered. "I don't know what people wear to places like these. Is this too formal?"
You gave him a soft smile. "A bit. Here, let me help you."
As König breathed a sigh of relief and undid his tie, you pushed into his closet and looked through his small collection of outfits. On the floor were three pairs of shoes: combat boots, running shoes, and black dress shoes. A small pile of neatly folded tactical pants sat on a shelf and a similar stack of shirts was beside it. Weapons and gear were strewn on the rest of the shelves. On the top shelf, he kept his helmet, pieces of headgear, and boxes of ammunition.
"Um, König," you asked, scratching your head. "Where are all of your clothes?"
König looked confused as well. "They're all in there."
"But what do you wear to just relax?"
He looked over at his outfit from earlier in the day and shrugged. "I just wear my usual clothes. I don't need special clothes to relax."
Your eyebrows almost popped off your face at his response. You knew you would likely have more clothes than he did. But you never expected the differences in your wardrobes to be this vast. If you only had tactical gear to wear every single day, you felt you'd rather die first.
"Oh my god," you scratched your head again. "We might have to ask some of the guys if they have anything to spare. You'd stick out like a sore thumb wearing a suit and tie. But you'd really stick out if you wore your everyday clothes. Maybe Soap has some stuff?"
"He probably does," König giggled, waiting for you to realize what he found so humorous. "But I don't think that will help very much."
Glancing back at him, it finally hit you. König was so much taller than Soap. So no matter what he had on hand to offer him, it would never sit on him right at his size. Suddenly, a light bulb flickered on in your head and you smiled as the perfect solution came into view. But your enthusiasm faltered when you thought it out a bit longer. There was no other way, though. It was the only answer you had.
"Well,... Ghost is about your size," you said, suddenly finding the back wall of the closet very interesting to study. "Maybe we can ask him for some stuff."
If König noticed anything off about your expression, he wasn't showing it. And when he gave you an excited nod, you knew he hadn't noticed a thing. In an effort to keep it that way, you plastered a bright smile on your face and reached for his hand. And when he interlaced his fingers in yours, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You felt like a child, to be that thrilled about just holding hands. But it was contact. It was skin on skin. It was something. The two of you hurried to Ghost's room, but you let König do the knocking this time. As cowardly as it was, you felt yourself shrink behind him a bit as if doing so would make your presence go unnoticed. It wasn’t a lot, but it helped just a tiny bit.
The door knob turned and Ghost poked his head out. He was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of loose gray sweatpants that looked incredibly comfortable. His eyes went to König's first, then down to your joined hands, and then finally to you. His gaze lingered on your face in an unspoken question, searching for any sign that the moment he’d long hoped for had finally happened. But based on König’s cheery disposition as he explained the clothing predicament, it was quickly revealed that he had not been so lucky. Not yet. After König finished his request and Ghost beckoned you both inside, you prayed Ghost wouldn't reveal anything he now knew. He could topple this whole teetering glass structure with a single word. You knew it. He undoubtedly knew it. And the outcome would be in his favor, too. As the door shut behind you for the second time that day, you shot Ghost a pleading look. And then you silently prayed that he would keep his mouth shut.
Face reveal, Vulnerable Ghost, Emotional Ghost, Supportive Ghost, Guilty Reader, Conflicted Reader, Ashamed Reader, Overwhelmed Reader, TW: Mentions of past trauma, TW: Inferred PTSD, TW: Self-loathing/Self-hatred, Apologies, Internal Conflict, Anxiety and Dread
We get a bit of a softer Ghost in this chapter. And I just wanna give him a hug. But I think the reader deserves like 100 hugs for the confusing emotions they're going through right now... Hang in there, y'all. It's starting to get rough...
Previously on You Have Something I Want, Ending 3...
“Look at me!” he shouted, striding towards you. “I said, look at me!”
His hand grabbed your wrist, forcefully yanking your hand down from face. But he left the task of lifting your gaze to you. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your blood turned to ice in your veins. But you slowly let your eyes drift upwards.
--------------------
Reader POV:
Your eyes trailed from his boots, up his legs, and gradually traversed along the expanse of his torso. The sculpted muscle you found there wasn’t a surprise. You knew he was as well-built as König, if not more so. But what you hadn’t expected were the jagged lines of scars that criss-crossed their way across his skin. Though they were long since healed, they were still raised and darkened. And the sheer number of the deep cuts made the host of comparatively minor wounds look small. But they weren’t. His skin was literally covered in them! A particularly angry line trailed from his hip to his sternum, the opposing planes of skin not quite aligned when they’d been haphazardly stitched together. And another sliced an arc across his shoulder before coming to an abrupt stop at the nape of his neck. As your eyes followed the line, you could practically see the assailant slashing their blade towards his throat in a killing blow before something stopped it just in time.
Ghost’s chest rose and fell with his quickened breaths, and yours did the same as your eyes rose above his neck. There was brown stubble along his jawline. His features were sharp and cutting, as if the years of service had turned him into a stone visage for battle wounds and time to chisel away at as they pleased. They’d done a bit more than just chisel. You winced sympathetically at the large wound on the left side of his face. It was hard to think of what could have caused such extensive damage. A knife? An explosion? A stray bullet? Whatever the cause had been, it had left an indelible mark. It was as if someone had grabbed the side of his mouth and ripped his face open. Though healed, the surrounding skin was still red and angry-looking. And the event had left a brutal scar that stretched from the corner of his mouth almost to his ear.
You quickly looked away, not wanting to stare. Instead, you shifted your gaze upward to his cheekbones. The structural bone was prominent beneath his skin, framing his face in defined lines that led your eyes higher. The whole upper half of his face was smeared with a black, gritty substance. Bits of it had gotten into his hairline, streaking smoky lines of black throughout the brown strands. But the contrast of the face paint just made his gaze that much more piercing. Strong emotion stormed within his brown eyes. And he looked at you as if he was looking into your very soul. But something about them seemed haunted, tormented. As you timidly stared up at him, you concluded your original statement still rang true. Looking up at his bare face, he wasn’t a monster at all. And he certainly wasn’t unattractive, even with all of his scars. Far from it, actually. If it wasn’t for the fire in his eyes underneath his fierce scowl, you might even say he was handsome.
“I am a monster, princess,” he murmured, voice dropping to almost a whisper. He rested his hands on your shoulders, emphasizing his words. “I kill people. I was trained for it, I’m damn good at it, and it’s what I’ve done ever since. Life dealt me a real shitty hand, but this is what I was born to do and it’s who I am. You don’t wanna know how much blood is on my hands. The things I’ve done. The things I’ve seen.”
You swallowed, fully overwhelmed. The sudden revelation, the vulnerability, the nervousness you still felt. It was all swirling in your mind and making it hard to think straight. But you didn’t need to think to conjure a response. The words came out without thought or hesitation.
“You’re right. I don’t know what you’ve been through. But I don’t have to know,” you said gently, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm. “You’re not a monster, Ghost. You’re not a monster and you’re not heartless. I might not know your past, but I know those things. I believe them with my whole heart and I wish you’d believe them too. But for what it’s worth, I’m so sorry for everything you've been through.”
“I don’t need pity. I need you to hear me,” he sighed, leaning into your touch ever so slightly. “I should be dead. And in a way, I am. But I clawed my way out of the coffin to spit in the Grim Reaper’s face and live to fight another day. You don’t get to do shit like that and make it out unscathed. My mind? Fucked beyond repair. I still have the nightmares. I still hear the screams, from everyone I couldn’t save. From the people I slaughtered in their honor. I snap so easy. And when I do, it's like I'm possessed. I lose control and do things I often regret. My body? Battered and broken. Every time I go on a mission, I come back less myself than when I left. I’ve lost pieces of myself that I’ll never get back. But I keep going because its all I know how to do. All I have left is my team, my job, and my mask. Everything I love, I destroy. Everything I touch turns to dust. My mother. My brother. My sister-in-law. Even my fucking nephew. Yeah, death hasn’t caught me yet. But it still follows me wherever I go, forcing me to watch as it takes everyone I care about away one by one until it finally comes for me again. So I bide my time and balance the scales. I kill without remorse or mercy. I listen to them beg for mercy. I watch them burn to ash. I make them feel every ounce of pain, fear, and horror they’ve inflicted on others. That's not normal, princess. That's not human.”
Despite your persistent fear, his openness emboldened you. And something in you made you suspect he was trying to scare you, to push you away. So you did the opposite and took a step forward, placing your hand over his heart. He watched your hand approach and didn’t move to stop you. And for a moment, when your hand met his skin, his eyes closed. Ghost savored the touch, the warmth. When his eyes opened again, another layer of emotion had been added to his eyes. Something intangible, almost imperceptible. But it was there all the same.
“I hear you, Ghost,” you whispered. “But even in everything you just said, I can see what’s in your heart. I see someone who still feels, still cares, and… and still hurts. But what’s more human than that?”
“But you don’t see everything that’s in there, princess,” Ghost held your gaze. “And I know there are things you’ve seen that you’re not saying. Don’t sugarcoat it. I almost fucking raped you last night. And if Price hadn’t shown up when he had, I probably would have. And you’re gonna stand here and tell me there’s goodness in me?”
Though the frank admission sent a shiver up your spine, you held your ground. “Yes. And I’ll tell you why. We’re all alone at the barracks. We’re here in your room, in the dark and behind a closed door. If that’s what you truly wanted to do, you could have done it by now. There’s no one and nothing to stop you. But you didn’t. You haven't. Because that’s not who you are and that’s what you want.”
“What I want,” he echoed bitterly, his chest pushing into your palm as he inched closer. “I want the same thing now that I wanted then. You know exactly what I want. I want you.”
He was right. Deep down, you already knew it. But him stating it so plainly, baring his soul to you like that? It caught you unprepared. It was both vulnerable and powerful. It was raw and unfiltered. It was desperate and it was beautiful. Your back bumped against the door as he pressed in. His frame easily enveloped your own. And for a fleeting second, you worried something in him had snapped and he would actually finish what he had started the previous night. But he wasn’t being forceful. His body softly pressed against yours, surrounding you with warmth. His chest moved against yours with each measured breath he took. With your hand still pressed against his chest, you could feel your heartbeats pounding out a rapid, synchronized dance. And his eyes stared down at you from above, full of a thousand unspoken words.
“But what if it's not me you really want?” You whispered. “I know everyone has… needs. And I have a lot of friends. We could find someone for you.”
“You think there aren't tons of girls on base I could sweet talk? You think if I just wanted a quick fuck, I wouldn't have just settled down with the first desperate girl I saw? It's not just that. I want you, Y/n. Every minute, every day, and way you can think of. I want you. I need you. It has to be you.”
“Ghost, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. And if we had met sometime before, maybe something could have happened between us,” you began. A lump quickly formed in your throat, but you lowered your gaze and forced yourself to carry on through your script. you had to play your part, no matter what your heart felt. “But I’m with König now and it needs to stay that way. If things change down the road, maybe we can try. But for now, can we just be friends?”
“Friends,” Ghost spat out the word like an insult, recoiling as if you’d struck him across the face. “Friends don’t feel what I feel when I look at you. And I know you feel it too.”
Your eyes flew up to his face when his hand shot out. But though the sudden impact made you jump, his touch remained just as gentle as before. He pressed his hand against your chest, his palm nestling firmly between your breasts. And the act made butterflies explode in your stomach.
“Your heart is practically jumping out of your damn chest and I haven’t even touched you yet," he murmured against your ear. "Not the way I want to. Not the way you want me to. And those eyes. They betray you. The way you look at me. You don’t see me as just a friend. Don’t lie to me... Please.”
His voice had grown thick. You knew enough about him to know he wasn't the emotional type and he certainly wasn't the type to weep. If he did it at all, he would never let it happen where others could witness it. But though no tears fell, something had broken through in his voice. Some part of his icy exterior had chipped away, giving you a rare peek behind his many layers. And just that one detail made your own feelings begin to unravel.
“I-,” your voice caught in your throat, but you fought back the tears that threatened to spill over your cheeks. “I can’t. Ghost, I don’t have a choice. I have to. It's what I have to say. What I'm supposed to say.”
“You make me burn for you, Y/n. Can’t you see that? You’re burning me alive. And like a fool, I’m willing to stand in the flames just to feel the warmth. Just to feel something. And I can see myself in you. That stubborn willingness to suffer in silence when you know you don’t have to. That curse to settle for less than you deserve out of duty. But you deserve more than that. We deserve more than that.”
It was those words that pushed you over the edge. You felt yourself break and tears began to slowly trickle down your face. Everything he was saying was the truth. You knew it and he knew it. But that didn’t make the situation any easier to handle in the moment. It didn't make any of the conflicting feelings you felt easier to translate to yourself, let alone someone else. All you could do was hang your head in shame and defeat as your carefully constructed world finally began to crumble around you.
“Look,” he sighed, hovering over you. “I know I’ve crossed many lines by now. I’ve done things that I had no right to do. And I’m sorry. I mean it. I’m not going to force you. Not anymore. I have no right asking anything of you after what I did. But if you want me to have any hope at all for just a piece of sanity, I need you to tell me how you feel. Not what you're supposed to feel. Not what you should feel. Tell me how you truly feel. No more lies. Not now. Not like this.”
“Ghost,” you gasped, your breath coming in light gasps. “...Yes, I feel things for you. I’m drawn to you, attracted to you, however you want to put it! And when I’m with him, though it makes me hate myself, I always find myself thinking of you. I can't stop. I can't make it stop. I love König. I love him so much. And being with him makes me feel so many things that I can’t put into words. But I feel all that and more when I look at you. It's wrong. It’s so wrong and I don't want to be a cheater..."
Just saying the word made your stomach turn. But you didn't know how else to categorize how you saw yourself at the moment. In the past, you'd been so quick to condemn your friend's shitty exes. It's so easy, you'd say. Be loyal to who you're with and have some self-control, you'd say. But standing here in love with two different men, unable to let either of them go out of fear of the pain it would cause you both. Stuck at the crossroads of the innocent love you cherished and the fiery passion you desperately craved. And standing at the crossroads yourself, nothing seemed as simple and easy as it had looked from afar.
"You're not a cheater, Y/n," Ghost whispered, cupping your face in his hands. "You're not."
"But I am," you sobbed. "I shouldn't have these feelings for anyone else but König. I shouldn't dream of or long for anyone but him. I shouldn't enjoy it when another man touches me. But I do. And that means I'm a fucking cheater."
"No, don't you do that. Don't you fucking dare," Ghost hissed, his thumbs brushing your tears away so you could look him in the eye. "I initiated this. I started this. You didn't ask me to touch you, to confuse you like this. This is all on me, so you let me carry that. You don't get to and I won't let you. You've done nothing wrong here. Not a thing."
"But it really feels like it. I feel so guilty. I’m trying so hard to do the right thing. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I can't do this... I can't...”
“But you did do the right thing. You were honest with me and you were honest with yourself. And you can keep doing the right thing, even though it's hard,” Ghost said, his voice a gentle hum as he gave your shoulders a gentle shake. He could tell you were starting to spiral and he knew that path all too well. “But that means being honest with him too. You have to tell him. Everything. He has to know. Because you and me? We deserve to be happy. And he deserves to know the truth. The longer you try to block it out, the worse it's gonna get. Trust me, I know from experience. I've been fucked in the head a long time. And as shitty as it is, I've gotten used to it in a way. But you? I don't wanna watch this destroy you. Because it will. And that's not something you deserve either.”
Everything he was saying was right. But just the thought of having that conversation with König made you sick to your stomach. Just the thought of it made your stomach churn. But you'd lost yourself. By admitting the truth, you had just taken a step that couldn't be undone. You'd strayed from the path Price and your inner compass had set and now you were wandering through treacherous territory without a map.
Ghost wasn’t looking at you with anger anymore. His eyes now held a bright spark of hope. Hope that you'd given him. And though the sight warmed your heart, it also filled you with dread. It reminded you of the way König had looked at you when you'd first arrived. His eyes had been so full of hope, love, and pure happiness. And now, you couldn’t move forward without collateral damage. You were now balancing two spinning plates and quickly losing control. Sooner or later, one would be chosen to survive as the other shattered in the most painful way imaginable. And, the only person tasked with making that dreadful choice was you.
I just wanna say, I really feel for the reader. The situation they're in really breaks my heart and I get the anxiety they feel (I say as if I'm not the one making all of this happen lol). Feelings are so fucking rough, man...
Reader POV:
Given about fifteen minutes to lick your wounds, you finally felt able to put on some fresh clothes and face the day again. If you could have, you would have just slipped away to your room, put your head under your pillow, and slept the mental strain of the day off. But a promise was a promise. And you had a sinking feeling that by not showing up at all, it would only cause König more concern than he had already expressed. So, you wiped away your tears and put on a brave face. Luckily, your mood quickly rose to match your expression as you made your way across base. The sunlight shone brightly overhead, filtering down through the sparse clouds in a majestic display. It cast everything it touched in the golden hues of an impending sunset. How could anyone be glum with a sight like that?
By the time you arrived at the shooting range, the practice was in full swing. Price had set out some hearing protection and a set of binoculars outside his door. He’d texted you before you’d left. And as you drew nearer to the sound of gunfire, you were incredibly thankful for them. They’d set up a wide variety of targets in a nearby field. Some were stationary, but others moved as a potential threat might. They ducked in and out of cover, serving as an added challenge if the practitioner desired one. Price spotted you as you made your approach, but he didn’t bother attempting to speak. There was no way you would have been able to hear him if he had. Instead, he waved and gestured towards a small structure many yards behind the firing line. He had set up a cute little area for you to watch from a safe distance. It was a little makeshift bunker set back from the firing line. But with the aid of a pair of binoculars, you would still be able to see every shot plain as day.
Though it appeared Soap was proven correct and you wouldn’t actually be allowed to fire anything yourself, watching the practice was still a lot of fun. It was fascinating to see them all in action. And König was a great shot. It was obvious that he was showing off a bit for you, but you found it sweet. Regardless of which firearm he was wielding at the time, every shot was a perfect bullseye. The guy never missed! The more you watched though, you quickly realized deadly accuracy was the norm for the task force. It made you feel safe and secure knowing that they were all the good guys. Because if they were on the other side of the fence, you’d never get another night of sleep.
But something else was making you feel safe and secure, too. Ghost was markedly absent from the practice. You could tell from the way the various shooting stations were set up that one had been set aside for his use. But though the necessary equipment had been staged there, Ghost was nowhere to be seen.
You were content to watch the team showcase their skills for a good thirty minutes. But after a little while, you waved your hand, waving at Price to get his attention. With a flick of his wrist, he signaled for the shooting to pause for a moment so that you could hear yourself speak again. The sound of firearms being reloaded or tinkered with filled the air as you tugged your ear protection off your head.
“You okay?” Price said, walking over to where you sat.
“I’m good,” you smiled, speaking a bit louder than intended at first. “I wasn’t prepared for how loud it would be from back here!”
Price chuckled. “Ah, you’ll get used to it!”
“Actually, I was thinking about heading back to the barracks a bit early. I thought now would be as good a time as any to have that talk with Ghost,” you lowered your voice a bit. “You know, since there won’t be any eyes and ears around.”
Price nodded, collecting your gear and helping you off your little stool.
“Good thinking. We won’t be done here for another thirty minutes or so. Think that’ll be enough time to say your piece?”
“Yeah, that should be more than enough time. I just have to find him first.”
“Oh, that’s the easy part,” Price smiled. “I’d bet anything he’s just been sulking in his room this whole time. I’ll let König know you went back to freshen up. You got this, Y/n.”
You smiled back, trying to feel as confident in yourself as Price clearly felt. And as you made your way back towards the barracks, your heart continued to pound in your chest.
“Just say what you have to say,” you thought. “Say the words and get it over with.”
It was that mantra that carried you across base and into the barracks hall. As you raised your hand to knock on Ghost’s door, you sent up a silent prayer that this would all go according to plan. And with one last deep breath, you knocked on his door.
--------------------
You could hear the sound of Ghost’s footsteps stomping towards the door before he yanked it open.
“What!?” he yelled, clearly not in a mood to be interrupted.
You shrank back, startled by the gruff response. But when he saw it was you, his anger appeared to cool a bit. It didn’t go away entirely. It simply went from a rolling boil to a violent simmer just beneath the surface.
“You,” he spat, glaring down at you. “What do you want?”
“I-,” your words lodged in your throat as panic set in all over again. You raised your hands, attempting to indicate you meant him no harm. “I just wanna talk. …Can I come in? It’ll only take a minute, I promise.”
With a huff and a roll of his eyes, Ghost turned on his heel and left you standing in the open doorway. Unsure of what to do, you just lingered there awkwardly. He hadn’t invited you in yet, but he hadn’t turned you away either. But the last thing you wanted to do was make any assumptions and stoke the flames of his anger any higher.
“Well, get in here then,” Ghost barked, now hunched over on the edge of his bed. His forearms rested atop his thighs, and his head was bowed. If it wasn’t for the anxious twitches in his hands, he might have looked a bit relaxed.
Taking timid steps, you tiptoed into his room and gently shut the door behind you. But you didn’t venture any further than that. The lights were all off, reinforcing the gloomy feel of the environment. But you could still see Ghost sitting there a few paces away. Suddenly, you felt like a foolish rabbit who happened to stray into a grizzly’s den. His hulking form stood out just enough from the surrounding shadows, the darkness somehow making him look even bigger. A few flickers of light sprang from his hand as he lit a cigarette, the faint glow revealing his clenched jaw and deepening scowl. Once he’d taken a long draw from the cigarette and exhaled in a puff of smoke, he turned that glare on you and increased your temptation to retreat.
“If you’re just gonna stand there and stare, I’m not in the mood,” he growled. “Say something or get the fuck out.”
“I just-,” you cleared your throat, adjusting your voice to sound calmer than you really felt. “I just wanted to apologize for the whole mask thing earlier today. I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry.”
Ghost didn’t give you a response. His gaze was locked on the opposite wall as he took another draw from his cigarette. You patiently waited for him to speak. But after the second and third repetition of the act, you realized he was stubbornly refusing to do so. So you went on.
“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole, I swear. I was just scared and desperate. You hit pretty hard and-”
“Price said to spar. So I sparred,” he spoke the words with finality. “You think it was gonna be a pillow fight?”
“No! I just-,” you lowered your voice, trying not to let your own temper flare. “All I’m saying is it was scary as hell. I thought you were going to kill me! When you charged at me like that, you looked like-”
“Like what? A monster? A killer? An animal?”
There was anger in his eyes. Even in the darkness, you could see it plain as day. But there was a flash of vulnerability and pain beneath it.
You shook your head frantically. “That’s not what I was gonna say.”
“No,” he snarled, rising to his feet and lumbering towards you. “Go on. Say it. Call me a monster. Tell me I’m a heartless killing machine and nothing more.”
“Ghost, no! That’s not what I think of you. Don’t say that!”
“Well you should! Because it’s all true.”
Ghost yanked his shirt over his head, his mask dislodging with it. When his mask clattered against the floor, you instinctively lowered your gaze, not daring to look at his face. Curiosity be damned. This was what had started this whole thing. And if he was so vengeful in a gym full of colleagues, you paled to consider just how his fury would play out with no one here to make him stop. You covered your face with your hands, doing everything in your power to convey that you weren’t looking at him. But Ghost was not appeased in the slightest.
“Look at me!” he shouted, striding towards you. “I said, look at me!”
His hand grabbed your wrist, forcefully yanking your hand down from face. But he left the task of lifting your gaze to you. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your blood turned to ice in your veins. But you slowly let your eyes drift upwards.
Sexual content, Sex, TW: Minor flashbacks (just hearing Ghost's words in her head and short memories), Sexual frustration, Sexual conflict, Internal conflict, TW: Feelings of shame surrounding reader's kink, Concerned König, Self-Sacrificing König, Ashamed Reader, Guilt-ridden Reader
Let the suffering begin...
Reader POV:
After lunch, you followed König to his room. You really needed a shower. Both of you did. But due to the demands of his schedule, it seemed such luxuries would have to wait a bit longer. All he had was a few minutes to change into more appropriate clothing. But the second his shirt had hit the floor, things had quickly veered off in an entirely different direction. Arousal had kicked in, and there was nothing either of you were willing to do to stop it. He was on top of you on the bed, planting heated kisses all over your body as his hands roamed. And you weren’t any better off. You tugged off your shirt, eager to expose more skin for him to ravish.
“Does this feel good?” He panted excitedly against your ear.
His hand slowly trailed up your inner thigh, sending a flurry of pleasant tingles down your spine. You nodded, relishing the feeling of his hand edging closer to the apex of your legs. But out of nowhere, the mood changed. Your mind suddenly flickered back to the previous night. And despite hearing König’s voice in your ear, all you could see was Ghost’s face. The image of him towering over you, pressing you firmly against the wall. His hot breath on your neck as he slipped his fingers into your core. The needy moans or unfiltered desire that he’d pulled from your mouth all too easily. The pungent scent of smoke and danger flooding your senses. The words of passion he’d hissed into your ear as he made your body writhe in pleasure.
“You’ll never get over me. I will haunt your mind day and night until you finally break and come crawling back for more.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to push the unwanted thoughts out of your mind. Above you, you felt König go still. He paused, freezing in place as his eyes scanned your face. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” you moaned, clearing your mind and trying to focus on only him. “Don’t stop,”
Once he was certain you were still on board with it, König slowly continued towards his goal. Before long, you were moaning his name again as he slowly tugged the rest of your clothes off. You met his eyes, filled with a desperate hunger as he did the same with his own clothing. For a moment, the two of you just sat there staring at each other. His eyes raked over the length of your body before slowly rising back to your face. And he shivered in anticipation as you returned the favor. God, seeing him like this would never get old. His massive figure eclipsing yours from above, the defined muscles just begging to be touched and caressed. And those hands. There was truly no end to the long list of things you yearned for them to do to you. You reached out, gripping his erection in your hand and enjoying the hissed moan that the action earned. König panted a bit, staring down at your hand as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head.
“Ah, your hands are s-so perfect,” he moaned, thrusting lightly into your hand. “So small around my cock. You touch me just right.”
“I could say the same,” you grinned, gently grabbing hold of his.
You guided it between your legs before tugging him down on top of you. His hand cupped your sex, massaging it with his palm before dipping his fingers between your delicate folds. He touched you with reverence and care, pushing his fingers in and out of your wetness like an act of worship.
“We have to hurry,” he moaned in your ear. It was something you both already knew, but he was trying to remind himself too. From the way he touched you, you knew he never wanted to leave. But he began grinding his groin against your thigh. “God. You feel so good, Maus.”
You giggled, wiggling your hips to add to his pleasure. “Then what are you waiting for?”
König whimpered, shifting to wrap your legs around his waist. “I’ve been craving this all morning,” he panted, smirking down at you. “Every second of combat training, I had to work hard to keep my focus. It took everything I had not to claim you right then and there.”
“Oh fuck,” you moaned.
His words sharply increased your arousal. But with that pleasure came a pang of anguish. You knew he wasn’t lying to you. You knew he likely had wanted you that badly. But at the same time, you also knew they were just words. Words that he would never truly act on. And you weren’t sure if he realized that exact scenario was exactly what you wanted. What you needed. For him to grab you at a moment’s notice and rail you with unbridled impatience. To really claim you.
Your internal spiraling screeched to a halt as König pushed into you. Your back arched at the fullness, eager to feel him as deep as he could go. The unsuspecting words he’d hissed into your ear moments before still stoked your desire and you found yourself desperate for his pace to increase. But despite your efforts from below, his thrusts remained slow and intentional as he savored your warmth.
“More,” you moaned through gritted teeth. “I need more. Fuck me, König. I can take it.”
He panted, his chest bumping against your breasts as he continued the steady rhythm. And your pleasure increased all the more when his hands gripped your hips, tugging you against his body. Every re-entry made your mind go fuzzy as arousal pulled you under. But the ravenous hunger for roughness had erupted deep within you. And as the burning desire raged on within, there was nothing you could do to contain it. You were desperate to satiate that rampant need.
“Faster,” you whined, tightening your legs around him. “It's okay, you can go faster.”
König hissed as you pulled him even deeper within you, but he did not increase his pace. “Bitte, let me savor you. I don’t want to rush this more than we have to.”
You felt your body involuntarily tense as Ghost returned to your mind uninvited.
“The next time you find your lover lacking? The next time he tells you no? I want you to remember this. How good you felt. How hours with him were nothing compared to just a few minutes with me.”
You could hear König’s moans vibrating against your chest. You could feel his eagerness, his excitement. But suddenly, everything was just too overwhelming. It was all too much. The sexual frustration was starting to set in. And as tears began to well up, you knew you had to pump the breaks.
“Stop!” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut again in an effort not to burst into tears. “I-I want to stop.”
König responded immediately, ceasing all movement as he looked up at you in surprise. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”
“I’m okay,” you stammered. “I just- I just need a minute.”
König pulled out and sat down next to you as you slowly sat up. Though he was doing his best to hide it, you could see the mild disappointment in his eyes. And you hated to deny him this moment of pleasure. It only made you feel that much worse. But you just couldn’t deal with everything you were feeling in that moment. And no one deserved lackluster sex. You couldn’t do that to him.
“Be honest with me,” König said, his voice soft and full of worry. “I need to know what’s wrong. Maybe I can fix it?”
You slumped over, dropping your head in your hands. “No, you can’t fix it. We’ve been over this already. I’m just having a really hard time right now.”
“Oh,” he said quietly, clarity dawning on him. “I understand.”
Heavy silence filled the room. In the blink of an eye, a moment of intimate vulnerability and passion had immediately shifted to uncomfortable distance. Nothing felt the way it was supposed to. Nothing felt right. You felt hopeless, broken, and ashamed. Here you were with the man of your dreams, ready and willing to make love to you. But just one little kink, one little fantasy was ruining everything.
“I didn’t know your desire for roughness was so… strong.” König looked away.
“I didn’t either. But I can’t stop it. I’m really trying. I’m trying so hard. But I can’t stop wanting it, König. I don’t know how. I don’t even know if I can.”
“Maybe we can spar every now and then? I’ll spar with you in the mornings if you want. Let you release some of that pent-up aggression? And then maybe that will meet that need. Maybe we can separate the two - have roughness then and let our intimacy just be for good feelings.”
You knew he meant well. He was trying his best to help and the gesture was so very sweet. But still, you felt a part of you die. This was it. This was final. This was just the way it was going to be, no matter what happened. You were doomed to live out your life with him with a gaping hole where your sexual needs were. You weren’t craving roughness in hand-to-hand combat. If it was that simple, your match with Ghost would have been more than enough to ease your hunger. But you still needed raw passion. The desire to be wanted so desperately that he couldn’t hold himself back. You wanted to feel just how much he craved you for days after he was through with you. You wanted your body to bear indelible marks of how he claimed you, so the whole world could see you were his. And even with all the love in the world, you didn’t know how much longer you could go on without that. Especially with thoughts of Ghost constantly emerging in your mind.
“It’s not the same,” you sighed. “I know you’re trying to help. And I appreciate it. But it's more complicated than that. I can’t really explain it…”
König pulled you into a hug, doing his best to soothe you. Though you had successfully held your tears at bay, a few pitiful sniffles still escaped. But you were grateful for the gesture and did your best to calm yourself down. Though he tried to make the motion inconspicuous, you saw him quickly glance down at his watch. You had already tempted fate the previous night, and you didn’t want to end up getting him in trouble because of you.
“You should go to practice,” you sighed, sitting up. “I don’t wanna make you late.”
“Are you sure? I really don’t want to leave things like this.” König rubbed your back, gazing down at you.
There was so much worry and concern in his eyes. But there was a bit of hurt in them, too. And it was that detail that made you look away. You hated this whole situation. What it was doing to you and to him. It was never your desire to hurt him. And knowing that you had sent guilt coursing through your veins. What the hell was wrong with you?
“I’ll be okay,” you sniffled, wiping your face. “I just need a minute and I’ll be fine. We can try again tonight and I’ll be back to my usual self again. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” König sighed, standing and silently getting dressed. “I don’t want to just start having sex again, though. I want us to take a break for a while and try to sort this out first before we try again, okay? This is much deeper than I understood. And I want to make sure you’re really okay before I touch you again.”
Knowing he was willing to forgo all sexual contact out of concern for you only added to your guilt. He still had needs. And even now, he was still evidently aroused. But he dutifully tucked himself away in his pants and was determined to ignore it until the feelings faded. You felt so guilty leaving him like that. And you were in no state to have sex right now. Not unless you really wanted to fall apart. But now, he was going to be made to suffer and go without. All because of you. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. This wasn’t how this was ever supposed to go.
“Are you still going to join us?” He asked, handing you your shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
You nodded, receiving the clothes. But you placed them on the bed beside you, lacking the energy to try to dress yourself at the moment. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit. I just need a minute to clear my head.”
“Okay,” he nodded, grabbing his gear and heading for the door. “We’ll talk about this more later, okay? Everything will be okay. I love you, Maus.”
Though you nodded and did you best to believe him, you were filled with a sense of dread. Based on how you were feeling right now, everything was not okay. And you had a creeping suspicion that more conversation would only make things worse. So, as he waved goodbye and slowly closed the door behind him, you curled up on his bed and let yourself cry. Why did this have to be so hard?
Well, I finally did it. Through many tears and much anguish, I have written the ending of the story where the reader break's König's heart. For my more sensitive readers, don't worry. This ending does not include any rapey/noncon vibes. But prepare your hearts and bring some Kleenex.... I'm not crying! You're crying!
Reader POV:
Soap spent the rest of the lunch hour testing out your new callsign. Every time you crossed paths, he found any excuse to use it. And through the constant exposure, the whole base team started to use it as well.
“Hey, Mouse!” A man you didn’t recognize came up to you, giving you a friendly fist bump. “Congrats on the callsign! You going to join us for target practice today?”
You finish your mouthful of food, looking over at König. “I don’t know. Am I?”
“I don’t see why not,” he laughed.
“Then yes!” You beamed, bouncing with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to shoot a gun!”
You raised your arms in, mimicking a shooting posture. After scanning the table for a suitable target, you locked your sights on Soap. You reared back, miming the recoil of a gun as you fired an imaginary shot at Soap’s shoulder. Soap’s eyes bulged as he clutched his arm, playing along with the scene before laughing and shaking his head.
“Woah now,” he chuckled. “I don’t know about you actually shooting. Don’t get me wrong, I like ya. But I don’t wanna get a bullet in the shin either.”
“I think she could handle it,” König snickered, deftly snagging a french fry from Soap’s plate. Soap reached out to grab it from his hand, but he leaned away and slipped it beneath his hood to pop it into his mouth.
With a roll of his eyes, Soap turned back to you again. “As I was saying-”
The millisecond Soap had looked away, König did it again. This time, the stolen french fry earned him a slap on the hand. But it still ended up in his mouth as he bowled over in laughter.
“Hey!” Soap yelled, shooting him a playful glare and shielding his plate of food with his forearm. “Hands off my spuds, ya rascal!”
Seizing the perfect opportunity, Alejandro reached over from the opposite direction and grabbed one himself. Soap swung at him, but Alejandro was already prepared for it. He quickly ducked out of his reach, popping the morsel into his mouth as he snickered.
“That’s it, I’m eating with Price,” Soap announced, scooping up his plate protectively and strutting over to Price’s table. As he went, he yelled over his shoulder in a sing-song voice. “Imma tell on all of you, too.”
“Oh no!” Alejandro teased, poking out his bottom lip in a mocking pout. “Don’t tell dad! Anything but that!”
You watched him go, leaning towards Alejandro. “Is he really gonna rat you guys out over a plate of fries? Because if you’re about to get in trouble, I want to make it clear that I was not involved. Innocent bystander!”
Alejandro scoffed, waving his hand. “Nah, he’s just messing with us. It’s all just a bit of fun.”
Both König and Alejandro continued to giggle as you returned to your lunch, shaking your head. It seemed the fun was never in short supply here, and you loved it. But just as you were beginning to settle back into your meal, you saw Price meet your eyes from across the room. And the second you made eye contact with him, he waved you over.
“Aw man, what the hell?” you sighed, climbing to your feet. “I didn’t do anything! This was all you guys!”
You shot Price a pleading glance, frantically gesturing towards your table mates. You put on quite an elaborate performance, attempting to communicate the whole ordeal with facial expressions and hand motions. But he insisted, continuing to beckon you to join him where he sat.
“Fuck,” you grumbled, picking up your plate. “Am I really gonna have to take the fall for this?”
König shook his head. “Oh no. If Soap said anything about it, Price knows it was us. He knows us too well.”
Alejandro laughed, agreeing with him. “You’ll be fine, Mouse. It’s probably unrelated. Just go see what he wants. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
As you made your way across the room, you felt their suspicion had been correct. Soap was already deep into a dramatic story, and the rest of the table was fully enraptured by his account. He was talking them through a past mission, play by play. And boy, was it dramatic. Every heart-stopping moment, every last-minute decision, every fire fight. Every detail was retold with dramatic flair. You were almost tempted to grab a seat beside him and listen in. But Price was already motioning towards an empty seat beside him. So you obediently rounded the table and sat down.
“Hey, John,” you said, digging back into your food.
“Hey there, Y/n,” he smiled at you, edging his chair closer to yours. The friendly chatter at his table continued without him, allowing him just enough distance for a more private conversation.
“I wanted to chat about this morning real quick. About you and Ghost.”
You lowered your gaze, your appetite immediately vanishing at the mere mention of the Sergeant's name. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have pulled his mask off like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just kinda freaked out and panicked.”
Price patted your knee reassuringly. “Oh I know, It’s not your fault. And I’m not upset with you or anything. I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re okay.”
“Oh,” you said, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you had been holding. “I’m okay. My momma didn’t raise a quitter. So, I’m tougher than I look!”
“I can see that,” Price laughed. “I mean it, you did well today. Our new recruits could learn a thing or two from you.”
Though the high praise made your heart swell with pride, you still fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. “Is Ghost okay? He seemed really pissed…”
“I haven’t seen him since he left the gym,” Price sighed, a tired expression falling over his face. “And that’s not necessarily a good thing after the way things ended. I was going to ask you the same thing.”
You huffed, crossing your arms. For such a high-ranking member of the team, Ghost was annoyingly pouty. He was probably holed up somewhere on base, licking his wounds and sulking. Price noticed your dour look and leaned in hesitantly.
“Y/n, is there… Is there anything more to this than I already know? Is there anything Ghost has said or done that might- might hint at something?”
You felt your face burn as you blushed. Did he know? Oh god, had he heard something? Had Ghost told him something??
You tried to keep cool and not give anything away unnecessarily. “W-what do you mean?”
His eyes studied your face closely. And the scrutiny made you squirm in your seat a bit.
“I’ve gotten to know Ghost pretty well over the years. And I’ve only ever seen him act out like this once before.”
“Why did he act out before?”
Price paused, hesitating. It looked like he had many things he wanted to say but was struggling to bite his tongue. After a moment, he finally gave in.
“We never had this conversation, okay? And if you ever bring it up later on, I will adamantly deny it. Understood?”
You nodded, immediately intrigued by the suspense.
“A couple of years ago, Ghost was with this girl. She was real sweetheart, and everyone thought they were a great match. I don’t tend to jump the gun on things like that, but I won’t lie. Even I thought they were meant to be. But things didn’t play out quite the way Ghost initially hoped. She eventually broke things off and took off. As it turned out, she was still pretty attached to a recent ex, and it wasn’t until he reached out to her that she finally admitted it. Ghost took it pretty hard, and things got ugly. That was the first time I saw any kind of emotion come out of him. It was mostly anger. Anger and sulking. And he had a bad habit of taking it out on everyone around him. You have no idea what that was like. It was hell.”
Price paused, sighing heavily. His shoulders sagged. And in that moment, it struck you just how much he carried on his shoulders from day to day. He seemed to always do it with his usual cheery disposition. But as the captain, everything that was on his subordinate’s shoulders fell onto his by proxy. It took so much care and support to do what he did every day. But for the first time, you thought you saw his mask begin to slip. You wondered if the stress from this current situation was finally starting to take a toll on him, and it made you want to help him however you could. But as quickly as the moment occurred, the glimpse into his inner world flickered away with a roll of his shoulders. His calmer expression returned, making anything you thought you might have seen seem like a figment of your imagination.
“I guess what I’m saying is this,” Price steepled his hands under his chin, doing his best to choose his next words carefully. “I’m beginning to wonder if Ghost sees a bit of her in you, in a way. I’ve seen him clash with new recruits many times. But he never goes this far with something unless it comes a touch too close to his heart. Are you understanding what I’m getting at here?”
You hesitantly nodded, doing your best to feign both surprise and ignorance. “I think so. So you’re saying Ghost might… You think Ghost might have feelings for me?”
Price nodded, eyes locked on yours to see how you were handling the new information. But you kept any signs that you knew more than he did well concealed.
“I could try to talk to him. But when he’s like this, no one else can get through to him. So,...” his voice trailed off, a request plain in his gaze.
“You want me to go try and talk to him,” you finished his thought, realization coming into focus.
“If you’d be comfortable with that, yes. Just let him down easy and make it clear that you’re not interested. Once he has that closure, he’ll stand down and we can all get back to some kind of peace. I’d do it for you if I could, but he won’t hear it from me. It has to come from you.”
You nod again. As you did, a heady mixture of guilt and shame boiled beneath your composed surface. Price wanted you to reject Ghost’s advances and leave no room for misunderstanding. But it wasn’t so simple. And you knew there was no easy way to even begin to explain it. How could you tell Ghost you weren’t interested when you knew deep down that you were? How were you supposed to push him away when a part of you longed for him? And how were you supposed to reconcile that with the relationship you were already committed to? But at the same time, it was killing you to see Price so stressed out on your behalf. You couldn’t let him bear the burden of your mess like this. You had to do it. You owed him this much.
“I’ll go talk to him tonight before we go out,” you said, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll set things right.”
“Thanks, Y/n. I knew I could count on you,” Relief washed over Price’s face. He let out a short laugh. “I guess I should start calling you ‘Mouse’ now, right?”
“That’s completely up to you, John,” you grinned, rising from your seat. “Call me whatever feels best.”
“While I like your new callsign, I think I’ll stick with your name. I like it. Y/n. Rolls off the tongue.”
“That’s fine by me!”
You picked up your plate and started heading back towards your table. But after a few steps, you paused and backpedaled. “Wait. Do you have a callsign?”
“Of course!” Price took a quick sip of water, a playful spark in his eye. “Everyone here does.”
“Well?” You prompted, curious what nickname his teammates used for their captain.
“It’s Bravo Six,” he admitted with a laugh. “But please don’t call me that. It feels too… distanced. We’re all friends here! So, just call me John.”
“Okay, you got it John. Thanks again for the chat.”
Price winked at you, smirking. “What chat? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
