"What are you made of?" a Ghost x reader fanfic.

Softness.

As I finished cleaning Ghost's wounds and began to carefully patch them up to prevent infection, a soft hum escaped my lips, the melody gentle and soothing, a lullaby of care and comfort. The room was filled with the quiet sound of my humming, a sweet and soft melody that seemed to float in the air like a delicate lily on the breeze.

Ghost, sitting with his eyes closed, listened to my humming with a sense of calm washing over him. The soft notes filled the room, wrapping around us like a warm embrace, a moment of peace amidst the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded us.

I worked diligently, and my focus on ensuring Ghost's wounds was properly tended to, my humming a melody of care and healing. Each movement was gentle and precise.

"Ghost," I spoke softly, my voice breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between us. "I need to clean the wounds on your chest now."

Ghost opened his eyes, meeting my gaze with a nod of acknowledgment. Without a word, he shifted slightly, allowing me access to the fresh wounds that marred his chest. As I prepared to tend to the injuries, a wave of determination washed over me, a silent promise to care for him with the same gentleness and dedication as before.

I reached for the cleaning supplies, my hands steady as I began the delicate task of cleaning and patching the wounds on Ghost's chest. Each movement was careful and precise, the soft touch of the cloth against his skin a reminder of the trust he placed in me to tend to his injuries.

As I cleaned Ghost's chest, my fingers traced the old scars that crisscrossed his skin, each one a silent reminder of the missions and battles he had faced in years past. His body felt warm beneath my touch, a contrast to the coolness of the cleaning cloth in my hand. I couldn't help but feel a blush creeping up my cheeks as I traced the lines of his scars, a mix of awe and reverence stirring within me.

Ghost, looking down at me, remained silent, his gaze fixed on my movements as I caressed each scar with gentle care. His eyes held a depth of emotion that I couldn't quite decipher, his thoughts swirling in his head as he reached up to gently grab my hand. I met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between us as he held my hand in his, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

For a moment, we lingered in that silent exchange, the weight of unspoken truths and emotions hanging between us. Ghost broke the moment, his voice quiet but firm as he spoke, "The rag is bloody. You should get another one."

I nodded in understanding, pulling away to grab a fresh cloth, the moment of intimacy between us lingering in the air like a fragile thread.
As I returned to continue cleaning his wounds, I couldn't shake the feeling of longing that echoed in the silence of the room.

"Ghost, I've finished tending to your wounds," I spoke gently, my voice filled with a sense of relief at having completed the task. "You should be all patched up now."

I met Ghost's gaze, his eyes reflecting a silent gratitude as he remained quiet, his expression unreadable behind the mask. I offered him a reassuring smile before turning to tidy up the room, gathering the cleaning supplies and clearing away the remnants of our task.

As I worked, I couldn't help but speak again, breaking the silence that had settled between us. "I'll clean up this mess, Ghost. Don't worry about it," I said, my tone soft yet determined. "You just focus on resting and recovering."

Ghost watched me with a sense of appreciation in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of my care and attention to his well-being. I continued to tidy up the room, the quiet rustle of movement filling the space as I worked.

With a final glance towards Ghost, I offered him a nod of reassurance before heading towards the door. "I'll be just outside if you need anything," I said, my voice filled with a sense of quiet support. "Take care, Ghost."

As I left Ghost's room, a gentle smile played on my lips, a sense of satisfaction and care filling my heart. The quiet hum of the hallway surrounded me as I made my way back to my own room, the memory of our shared moment of tenderness lingering in my mind.

Ghost, sitting in his bed, watched me leave with a sense of warmth in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort and care I had provided. As I disappeared from view, he let out a soft sigh, his hand reaching up to remove the mask that concealed his features.

Alone in his room, Ghost moved with purpose, locking the door behind him before settling onto his bed. The weight of the day's events hung heavy in the air, the memory of my touch lingering on his skin like a faint echo.

As he lay in bed, the room bathed in a soft glow of moonlight, Ghost closed his eyes, the quiet of the night enveloping him in a sense of solitude and reflection. Thoughts swirled in his mind, a mixture of worry and longing, as he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability in the safety of his own space.

And as he drifted off to sleep, the memory of my presence and care lingering like a gentle caress, Ghost found solace in the quiet of the night.
For once, he slept without the meds he so often took to sleep.