Eyes on Me| Ghost x Reader

5. Confessions

Torres suddenly halts, leaving me puzzled. "What I was about to finish," I tease. 

"Whose name did you just say, Y/N?" he demands, staring me down. "Yours, duh," I reply, attempting to brush it off. "No, you said fucking Ghost. Why the hell would you say his name?" I freeze. "What? No, I didn't. What are you talking about?" I feel him go still, so I sit up and pull my bedsheet over me. He's already trying to put his pants on. "Wait, what? No, come back," I say, scrambling to fix things. "No, just forget about it, Y/N. I'll see you on the helicopter," he mutters, slamming the door on his way out. I lie on my back, defeated. How could I mess up their names, and why was I even thinking about Ghost? 

My mind races, searching for answers as frustration mounts because I didn't get to finish. My hand moves between my legs as I try to find pleasure, but I can't shake thoughts of Ghost. His broad chest, his intense gaze, the way he says my name—it all intensifies my arousal, and I start to play with myself more vigorously. I imagine him above me, guiding me, praising me, telling me how good I'd make him feel. I begin panting, nearing climax. I moan his name several times as I reach my peak, panting heavily. I see stars; it's the best orgasm I've ever had... and it came from thoughts of Ghost...

~~~~~~~

I couldn't fall asleep, consumed by thoughts of Ghost. My bag packed, my mind exhausted, I sought solace in the open air. Stepping outside, the darkness enveloped me, offering a semblance of peace. I strolled leisurely along the path, the cool breeze brushing against my skin as I wandered in my pajamas.

Lost in the tranquility of the night, a snap shattered the silence. Instinctively, I tensed, poised for action, only to relax as I recognized Ghost's familiar figure—his mask, sweatpants, and black hoodie illuminated by the faint moonlight. He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Easy there, tiger," he teased, my tension melting into amusement. "What brings you out here, Ghost?" I inquired, curiosity lacing my voice. He shrugged, settling onto a nearby bench. "Couldn't sleep," he confessed. "The boys had one too many at their drinking bash. I tend to skip those."

Nodding in understanding, I leaned against the bench beside him, twiddling my thumbs nervously. "And what about you?" he prodded gently, his presence surprisingly comforting. "Just... too much on my mind," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Ghost nudged my shoulder playfully. "Nervous, are we?" he teased, earning a giggle from me."Not nervous," I corrected with a smile, meeting his gaze. "Just... lost in thought."

"Relax, you'll be fine," he says in a calm tone. "I mean, let's just say I'm glad I'm not under your instruction," he teases, and I can't help but laugh. "When did you become funny, Ghost?" I inquire, but he falls silent, and suddenly the mood shifts. "Why did you walk away so angrily today?" I ask softly. "It was our time to enjoy our victories as leaders, and you bailed."

He sighs, seeming on the verge of saying something meaningful. "I'm sorry for that, I just got..." he begins, "I just didn't like how close you and Torres got, is all," he admits, looking away towards the rising sun.

"What? Are you jealous?" I tease. "What for?" His response is stiff. "I don't know, just seeing you with him while we're supposed to work together," he confesses. "You've been treating me like shit, Ghost. You act like you don't want to spend a single second with me outside of meetings," I confront him seriously. His head drops, unable to meet my gaze. 

"How could you be jealous?" I continue, unable to suppress a smile. "I think you've developed a bit of a crush." I suggest, "Tell you what, why don't you start by not treating me like shit and see where our friendship goes?" I propose. "It's not a friendship, Y/N. We work together, that's all," he states coldly. I sigh, preparing to leave. "Okay, sorry I tried," I mutter, but before I can get up, he grabs onto my arm.

"Wait," he starts, his expression softening as I turn back to face him. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not used to having friends, a girl at that," he confesses. I giggle, "You need to open up if you want a friend, Ghost. That's how friendships start," I encourage him. He doesn't say anything for a moment, then I suggest, "Okay, why don't we both confess something and go from there?" I can see the smirk under his mask and feel a warm flutter in my stomach.

"I'll go first," I start, thinking hard. "I was called 'Fury Bitch' for a year at my old force. I was known as the short firecracker who would bark at anyone out of line," I admit, giggling at the memories. He looks at me softly and chuckles. "Fury Bitch," he repeats, then adds, "You need a new nickname, Y/N. A callsign for tomorrow."

I ponder it, but before I can say anything, he looks me dead in the eyes, and I see the smile in his eyes. "I got it," he says. "Killer." I contemplate it, but before I can respond, he interrupts with a confident assertion, "Killer." Blushing, I protest that it seems too plain, but he insists that it fits me perfectly.

I playfully bump his leg, giggling, "Your turn to confess." But instead of speaking, he stands up abruptly. Confused, I reach out for him, but suddenly he turns around, his front meeting mine, his arms wrapping tightly around me. I gasp, meeting his gaze as he smirks beneath his mask. He loosens his hold just enough to cup my chin, drawing me closer. I'm lost in his eyes, expecting him to kiss me, but all he does is whisper with a smirk...

"I like when I hear you fucking another guy but moan my name when you cum"