Konig Is Massive, His Big Buff Body Underneath Yours As He Is Pistoning His Cock Deep Inside Your Cunt.

Konig is massive, his big buff body underneath yours as he is pistoning his cock deep inside your cunt. His big hands almost cover your entire waist. He likes when you're on top of him riding him, he loves how small you are compared to him.

For a moment your hands are on your hair, you lip between your teeth as you ride him passionately. Konig thinks he has a goddess in front of him, his hands go over your tits squeezing the soft flesh. He's near, he can feel it. You are almost there too and the next thing you know he is milking your cunt with his cum and you squirt, drenching his thighs.

From the exhaustion your head falls on his shoulder leaving there small pecks. Konig's big hand rubs your back softly while whispering in your ear and telling you how good you were for him.

"Mein Engel, du hast mir so viel Gutes getan" and all you do is grab his hand and kiss his palm while looking at him with your puppy eyes "I love you Konig, I love you so much"

"I love you too Mein Schatz"

The barman was clearly flirting with you, the way he was undressing you with his eyes and all the flirty jokes and fluttering compliments he was making. All these didn't go unnoticed by Ghost who was currently sitting on the corner of the bar, his glass of whiskey tightly grasped by his hand, threatening to shatter into tiny pieces.

And that's how you are found here. Your ass up while his tattooed arm is wrapped around your neck, his free hand grasping your hip in a tight hold while fucking you like an animal in heat. You're sure that by the end of the night your hip will be bruised. He's going hard on you, but you can't say no, his cock feels too good to say no.

"This pussy is mine d'you get that luv?" your head is too fucked up to answer. And this time ghost grabs aggressively your cheeks forming a pout "I said did you get it?"

"Y-yes only y-yours" satisfied he lets go and taps lightly your cheek "good girl".

Trust pt.2

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader x Miles Morales ! 1610

wc : 5,9k Warnings : angst, possessiveness, all characters are around 19 years old, cheating, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago, eventual love triangle ?, dramaaaa. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3 (coming soon)

Sorry, it took so long, the chapter just kept getting longer. Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

You sighed as you closed the door of the store. It was already past midnight and you had just finished a long shift. Oddly, the store had been particularly active today and you couldn't catch any break. Now you sought one simple thing. To find the comfort of your bed.

You removed the key from the lock and frowned as a drop of water touched your skin. It was raining. 

Wonderful.

You had no umbrella with you as you didn't anticipate the night to get rainy. Regretting your choice of clothes, you pressed your bag on top of your head to protect yourself from the rain. Your home was a bit far from the cornerstone you worked at and you knew you had to hurry up because the streets were not safe at night.

As you headed toward your apartment, your thought deviated toward him. 

It had been one month. Four weeks since everything fell apart.

At least, to you.

Twenty-eight days since you broke up with Miles Morales. Six hundred and seventy-two hours since he betrayed you and you liked to think that you had moved on. It was the easiest way to go through your days. 

 And if your heart ached each time you found his clothes in your closet or if you woke up in the middle of the night to noises on your window thinking it was him, you denied it.

The pain that you felt that night was unmatched. It was still fresh, rooted deep in your memories. But with time, you discovered it was nothing next to the pain of leaving without Miles. He wasn't there physically, yet he occupied each ounce of your mind.

Contrary to what you could believe, Miles wasn't any better. You were on his mind, 24/7. 

He regretted. He regretted considerably. He had made the worst mistake of his life and just like that, you slipped through his fingers. 

You were his world. His universe. He missed your presence. He missed holding you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your skin, tickling the curve of your hip, caressing the softness of your skin with his lips and seeing the deepness of your loving gaze when you looked up at him. He missed everything about you and he refused to let you go.

And this became the hardest part for you. Miles had tried to get you back. 

Countless time.

Because even if your mind was screaming no, your heart was still weak for the boy. And he knew it.

He hadn't stopped texting you in the weeks following your break up. He had asked for forgiveness so many times you couldn't even count it. When you blocked him on every social media, he directly came to your house. He would knock on your window at late hours like he always did. 

You would leave him outside.

After some time, he finally decided to give you some space but you could still feel his presence from afar. You could feel his stare on your back sometimes as you came back from work. You knew he was still making sure you were safe. Sometimes, you find to notes from him on your window.

You didn't read them.

You had thought of taking him back. On your lowest nights, you had thought that maybe it was for the best. You felt nothing without him. Even if the relationship brought your more strain than anything else, it was at least something. It was toxic but addicting. It made you cry at night but it made you feel high on other days. The only thing stopping you from going back was that little doubt ticking in the back of your brain.

What if he did it again?

But if there was one thing you knew, is that you were faithful to yourself. You were too afraid to put yourself through that process again if he was to mess up again. He had already broken you once, had left you miserable and you had suffered too much to trust him again.

So with time, you learned to let go. You had finally gotten used to living without him. Each day you were forgetting him more and more and you felt like yourself once again. And while your heart was still tied to his in a way, you knew you could live peacefully now.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by a noise behind you, yet you didn't give it a second thought. However, when you heard again, this time followed by irregular steps against the wet concrete, you frowned.

You peeked behind your shoulder and noticed a man, both taller and broader, dressed in a black hoodie. You couldn't see his face.

Your heartbeat picked up.

You accelerated, hoping that you were worrying for nothing, but that hope was soon crushed when the steps also became faster. Before you could think of a way to get yourself out of this situation, a hand covered your mouth and you were dragged into an alley.

It was dark and you could barely see anything as you fought back against the broad body that manhandled you against the wall. 

''What pretty girl like you doing outside at such an hour.''

He whispered, his breath reeking of booze. He pressed his body against yours and travelled his hands on your back. Your cheeks pressed hard against the rugged brick wall, you felt tears burn the brim of your eyes as you realized what was about to happen.

''N-no! Please don't''

''Shut up bitch, you want it. You wouldn't be walking alone at such hours if not,'' he laughed in your ears.

''Nah, I think her no was clear enough.''

You jerked at the new voice and soon, the hands holding you against the wall disappeared. You turned around panicked, gasping as the man who was once all over you, now laying on the ground, holding his bruised cheek. Another guy dressed in a red suit stood over him.

''I hate assholes like you-'' the newcomer shot a string of web to tie up the man against the wall ? ''who think they can do whatever they want.''

You rubbed your eyes to make sure you saw well. Web ?

''Don't touch women again, got it ?''

The man nodded quickly, eyes widened in fear before the guy in red sent another punch, knocking him out for good.

You stood there, back against the wall, frozen. You had never heard of a guy in red playing the hero in Brooklyn.

New-york was filled with villains. You just hoped to fall on the nicest one.

As if reading your thoughts, the guy in red walked toward you.

''Hey, are you fine? I'm sorry this happened !''

He stopped in his track when you flinched.

''Look, I don't want you any harm,'' he raised his arms in the air as proof. ''Can I...come closer ?''

You nodded slowly, still speechless, and he did so. From closer, he was towering over you and you had to raise your head to properly look at him.

Just like with your ex.

You frowned, feeling stupid for thinking of the guy in such a situation and finally spoke.

''Thank you."

You watched as he smiled through his mask.

''Of course,'' he raised his hand before stopping abruptly. ''Can I touch you ?''

You nodded and he held your chin, angling it to the side and checking your cheek.

''Good he didn't hurt you,'' he then took in your appearance. You were completely wet because of the rain and you had started shivering. He removed the coat he was wearing and wrapped it around your shoulders. ''Here.''

A million thoughts crossed your mind, yet you only cared about one.

The coat smelled like Miles. 

You shook your head, feeling stupid again. Were you so obsessed that you imagined your ex everywhere now? You really needed some sleep. 

But you didn't want to walk home alone.

''I'll bring you home,'' the boy announced before wrapping his arms around your hips. ''Hold onto me tight.''

You did as he said, confused about why but soon understood when he brought you both in the air.

''Oh god !''

You closed your eyes not daring to look down.

''I know,'' he laughed near your ear and you couldn't ignore the shivers that crossed your body at the familiarity of his voice.

In less than ten minutes, you were home after telling him the way.

''Thank you for this,'' you smiled shyly and handed him back his coat.

''Of course! ''

You looked at him and you just couldn't get rid of this picture of Miles. 

''Who are you ?''

You were shocked at your own question, the word escaping your mouth before you could stop yourself.

''Oh, I'm Spiderman," the guy said and you could hear the proudness in his voice.

''No, like who are you really?'' You slid your hands down his shoulders and his arms. It was a posture you knew too well. You could recognize that body in a million. ''Miles ?''

''W-what''

You grabbed the end of his mask and to your surprise, he didn't stop you. You raised it until it revealed his face.

A gasp escaped you as you saw Miles but....he didn't have braids. You studied him carefully. Same lips, same nose, same cheekbones, you almost got fooled. But when you made eye contact with him, you saw it.

It wasn't your ex.

His eyes weren't the same. Your ex had this hardened stare. A gaze built by the wall he created around himself. People said eyes were the mirror of the soul but you couldn't read anything through them.

This guy in front however had....innocence painted all over his eyes. His stare was soft, warm and solacing. 

''You aren't Miles, who are you ?''

The guy took a step forward, hope in his eyes. You stepped back.

''You know Miles Morales ?'' 

You shook your head freaked out by the situation and took another step back.

''Get out.''

The taller widened his eyes. 

''No, no please listen to me first.''

Maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was because he looked like Miles, you didn't know. But you didn't have the heart to chase him away one more time.

''You have five minutes.''

"So you're telling me that you are a hero from another earth that is exactly like mine and you saved people you weren't supposed to so a hoard of spidermans is following you and you need to go back to your earth to save your dad."

Miles nodded eagerly.

"I know it sounds crazy but yeah…that's pretty much it.''

''Damn,'' you breathed, letting the information sink in. ''And you need me for..?''

''To find a way back home.''

The boy stared at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head.

''Look, I don't think I can help you with that.''

His face dropped and he clasped your smaller hands in his calloused ones.

''Nonono, please! You are the only one I could find and you seem to already know Miles Morales from here. You know how I need to act to stay unnoticed.''

You thought about his words. It made sense, but you didn't want to get involved in all that mess.

"I really don't know."

"Please !"

You wondered for a few more seconds. How where you supposed to refuse when he was looking at you pleadingly?

''Alright.''

His facial features broke into a grin and he pulled on your arm, making you collide against his chest.

''Thank you !''

You could only widen your eyes as you felt his arms tighten around you. You hadn't expected this sudden affection. Dumbstruck, you failed to return the gesture until he froze and leaned back, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

''Sorry, I got too excited…'' he looked away, your stare becoming too intense for him.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. The Miles you knew was so cold so this new Miles with such a…bubbly personality was interesting.

You couldn't help but think it was sweet…and very cute.

''It's fine.''

He seemed satisfied with your reaction as he joined you before your laughers died down.

''Uh, I might have sum else to ask.''

You hummed.

''I kinda need a place to stay.''

Miles towered over you, holding bedsheets, while you hugged a pillow to your chest.

''So how are we going to do this ?''

You two made eye contact before glancing at the bed again. Suddenly, the boy dropped the fabric on the floor and rose his hand next to his chest.

''I'll sleep on the ground, it's fin-''

''no, you don-''

''Yes, I do. I'm the guy and the guest, so sleep on the bed and I'll-''

''Just lay down, I don't mind.''

You slid under the covers not waiting for his reaction and soon, you heard the mattress dip toward his side. He was careful to let some space between you.

You rose the fabric over both of your bodies and sighed. This was a long day and you were honey tired. You tried to get some sleep but you could feel starring eyes burning your skin.

''What is it ?'' you whispered with your eyes still closed.

You heard the rub of covers before Miles cleared his throat.

''Nothing, nothing.''

Then the mattress bent again and you assumed he turned the other way.

''Oh, by the way. My mom can't know you are here. So you know…be discreet.''

You didn't want to have to explain to her what Miles, your ex - even if it's not really him - was doing in your room at such an hour.

''Don,t worry, I'm discreet.''

The next afternoon, you found yourself in the library. It was far from your apartment and your school, which reduced the chance of running into an unrequired acquaintance.

''Look at this, doesn't it look interesting ?''

You extended a book about something called 'The Super-Collider'. 

''That's basically a particle collider right ?'' You added as Miles grabbed the heavy textbook.

The taller boy nodded, peeking at the back cover.

''Yes, it uses electromagnetic fields to speed up charged particles. And-

''Eventually, pull or join different objects coming from different dimensions,'' you finished, scratching your chin as you wondered about something. You didn't notice Miles' amazed expression. 

''You know what it is ?''

You looked at him as if he was crazy.

''Of course, didn't you watch The Flash ?''

His excitation vanished and you received silence as an answer.

''I'm joking, I'm just really interested in physics,'' you said pivoting back to the bookshelf and searching for another work that could be useful.

''Oh...I didn't know that. I wanna study in that field later.''

Your widened eyes shifted back to him.

''What, you literally hate phys-'' you stopped as remembered who you were with and you shook your head embarrassed. ''Nevermind.....It's nice to have someone who likes it like me.''

You couldn't help the thrill that invaded you. Your ex would always joke about your interests in physics and eventually, you stopped talking about it. So seeing this new Miles show interest brought a certain warm feeling to your stomach. You didn't know what it was, but the longer you were with the boy, the more interesting you found him. You had found a special chemistry with him and it's like you two had always been friends.

You liked that sensation.

''I was wondering, are particle accelerators the reason why you are here ?"

The taller twisted his mouth to the side.

''Uh...not really? It's part of the reason though. Some type of butterfly effect,'' he finished as you opened another book. You simply hummed not pushing too much on the object. It didn't look like he wanted to talk much about it.

''I think we have enough for now. Let's buy them !''

You gazed at the raindrops interrupting the peaceful reflection of your face on the blurry window. It was particularly cold today, gray clouds snatching the sunrays from the city while its people ran down the streets to cover themselves from the water. To you, the scenery was simply gloomy.

A usual rainy day in Brooklyn.

You jumped as the doorbell of the store rang, pulling you out of your train of thought. You relaxed after realizing it was only a client. You were only 3 in the shop. You being the cashier, the man who had just crossed the door and Miles hanging upside down next to you while playing a ball.

''What's up with you? You've been daydreaming since morning.''

It had been 3 weeks since this Miles arrived from Earth 1610 and you had nearly spent all of your time with him. 

Well, it's not as if you had a choice since he lived in your apartment, but it didn't change the you two had gotten extremely close. You were hanging out every day. One time at the coffee shop and another time watching a movie while trying hairstyles on his hair. Just like yesterday.

You couldn't deny your attachment that had grown for him. Hell, just thinking about him made your heart flutter and you would find yourself stuck with a stupid grin on your lips.

At first, you kept comparing him with your ex. His accent, his gesture, what he liked and what he disliked. He didn't speak as much Spanish, he wasn't as mysterious and cold. But as time passed, you found yourself more and more drawn by this new Miles. He was more expressive, affectionate, supportive and careful with you. He knew how to make you laugh no matter the situation and you two shared multiple interests. 

You weren't oblivious. You quickly understood that the boy was slowly stealing your heart. But that doesn't mean you were ready for it.

You were used to feeling love with pain. To push and pull kind of relationship. To toxic and aggressive feelings. To spend the night worrying about your lover and only to find him bleeding the next day. To cry alone at night then drown your sadness in your boyfriend's arms for a few minutes before you had to separate again to go to school. 

But with Mile Morales, everything was different. It was sweet, warm and solacing. He was always next to you at night and he was careful with you in daylight. You felt protected and you weren't sleeping next to a criminal anymore. 

This was so different, but you liked it.

''I just didn't get much sleep last night.'' 

The taller jumped back to his feet before getting closer to you. He looked at your face carefully, worry painted all over his own features.

''I shouldn't have kept you up all night, sorry.''

You looked up at him with a chuckle before flicking his forehead softly.

''No, it was funny. You looked really cute with those coloured rubber bands in those cornrows I did,'' you teased, facing him.

He frowned before a tiny pout took over his mouth. It was nearly imperceptible but it was there.

''I looked like a kid. How am I supposed to be big and scary with that in my hair.''

You burst out laughing, the memory from last night coming back to you. You had told him you would braid his hair since he wanted to try something new but he ended up removing them because 'they were too tight, and his scalp was too soft for all that'. You knew he just wanted to remove the rubber bands.

''I'm still mad at you for destrpying my beautiful work.''

He smirked getting closer, reducing the space between you two.

''Don't be upset tesoro, what will I do if you are mad at me ?''

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, like it had done for the past weeks, and you looked away, to hide your shy smile. However, before you could answer, you heard a gun cocking right in front of you.

You slowly looked up, to find a riffle pointed right to your face. Your heart dropped as you failed to understand whatever the client from earlier was screaming.

''Open the cash register and gimme the bills,'' when he noticed your lack of reaction, he brought the gun closer to your forehead. ''Hurry the fuck up !''

However, before the stranger could try anything else, the gun was knocked out of his hands and his arms were joined together by web.

Everything passed in a flash and Miles quickly neutralize him and called the police. And if he gave a few unnecessary punches to the man, as he was already tied up, you didn't mention it. It was Miles' way to get back at the man and make him regret pointing his gun at you.

Before you could even realize what happened, the boy was in front of you, holding you tight by the elbow, checking up on you for the second time in less than 10 minutes.

''How are you feeling,'' he whispered, his low voice vibrating in your ear.

''G-good.''

Your voice left you like a whisper, still shaken by the event.

You had encountered multiple... ominous situations in this city. But being held at gunpoint and knowing your life was in the hands of a stranger was different. You realized how lucky you were to have Miles at your side at this exact moment and your eyes watered.

The boy read right through the facade you were trying to keep up, as he noticed your shivering and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, dragging you against himself.

''Come here precious.''

You tightened your hands around the low of his back, losing yourself in the warmness and the comfort of his embrace. You felt safe and the panic was slowly soothed away from you.

''Feeling better ?''

You nodded, slowly, face still hidden nestled in the crook of his neck.

''How come there's so much crime in this city,'' he sighed, caressing the back of your neck to bring you more comfort.

''We don't have Spiderman here, you know,'' you muttered, finally finding the energy to spill some words.

Your words were muffled by his skin and you felt him shiver at the sensation of your lips against his neck.

''Right.''

You expected him to laugh at your words so you looked up at him, frown plastered on your face.

''Are you mad ?''

His expression softened when he noticed you scowl and he shook his head.

''No,'' he rested his chin on top of your head. ''I just don't like the idea of you living all these years without anyone to protect you.''

You ignored the butterflies that invaded your stomach as his sentence, your lips growing into a grin against the crook of his neck.

''I'm not a damsel in distress.''

Miles only hummed, not letting go of you.

''Yeah, if you say so, preciosa.''

Everything was going perfectly. You and Miles were slowly finding more clues on how to send him back to Earth 1610 and by then, old Miles was already far in your memory.

You couldn't but wonder how unusual that was. You weren't used to just living peacefully. There was always something going on.

And you weren't wrong to feel so suspicious.

You were walking down the street as it was getting darker outside. 

Again.

You had to stay a few more hours at school to finish a group project and you hadn't realized how much time had passed. You cursed under your breath, remembering what happened the last time you found yourself walking for such an hour outside.

Not wanting to get in such a situation again, you accelerated until you arrived on the street where you live. You sighed, relieved, but before you could take your keys, a large hand caught your elbow, dragging you into the alley behind your apartment. You were pinned against the bricked wall and clenched your eyes shut, groaning at the impact.

What's with the people of this city and walls? Damn.

However, when you glanced at whoever seized you so brutally, your heart sank. You had completely forgotten about him and you had never expected him to come back.

''Miles.''

Your ex smirked staring up and down at your silhouette before licking his lips. A shiver travelled down your body at his action.

''Happy to see me mami ?''

You two made eye contact and you were hauled. His gaze was still as piercing as you remembered and it brought back unwanted memories. However, you suddenly blinked, waking up from your stupor and averted your eyes from the imposing male. Your expression turned sour and you tried to push him away, unsuccessfully.

''Leave me alone, Morales.''

He chuckled, taking a step forward to reduce the space between both of your bodies.

''So that's what we are doing now ?''

You kept your lips sealed and turned your head to the side as an answer. However, his fingers slid behind your neck, using his thumb to shift your head back to him.

''Look at me when I talk to you.''

''What do you want ?''

He rose his eyebrow at the dryness of your tone, still not used to such an attitude from you.

''I don't need a reason to see yah princesa.''

''I don't have time for this, move.''

Miles clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening at your words.

''Watch your tone.''

''Or what ?'' you raised your eyebrow at him with a bored expression. Two months ago, you would have never talked to him like that. But right now, you couldn't care less. You wanted to go home, take a shower and cuddle with your Miles. You were too tired for all that.

Your ex-boyfriend visibly took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself down. You could see the frustration growing in him. But you didn't expect what he would say next.

''Who's that guy you've been hanging out with lately ?''

You froze at the question.

''What the- have you been following me ?''

''I asked you a question,'' Miles repeated louder this time.

''It's none of your business.''

''I'm being nice and you don't wanna try me. I don't like you talking to other guys and you know that.''

You scoffed at his nerve. Why was he acting like you were his or something?

''What part don't you understand in 'we're done' ?''

He took a deep breath and pinched his nose.

''Look, I fucked up mami. Lo sé and I hate myself for it. But I let you have some space for two months already, te necesito.''

''Miles, I don't love you anymore.''

He froze for a second but you could see him gulp slowly.

''I know you, stop playing hard to get.''

You rested your hand against your forehead tired of this situation already. 

''Are you being serious ?'' he asked again in disbelief.

But instead of answering, you pushed him back and this time, he didn't resist. 

''I'm leaving.''

''Where do you think you are going ?''

''Hopefully to my new boyfriend,'' you answered. Being honest was probably the only way to force him away from you.

''You don't want to do this,'' he said darkly. He clenched his jaw and rubbed his hand on his chin. You had never seen him so mad. ''I'm warning you.''

You shook your head with a sigh before ignoring him and entering your apartment. You knew he was saying empty words. Your ex would never dare to hurt you directly. He could cheat, and lie but never harm you intentionally.

That's what you thought at least.

Arriving in your room, you find your new Miles sitting at your desk, sketching something on a sheet. 

''Preciosa, you are finally here.''

You nodded with a tired smile.

''You're not sleeping yet ?''

He shook his head, leaning back on the chair and spreading his leg to be more comfortable. ''Nah, was waiting for you."

You raised an eyebrow at his position before throwing a shoe at him that he easily caught with one hand.

''Stop the manspreading in my room.''

He laughed before telling you to come closer. You obeyed and your eyes fell on the drawing he was making. 

It was you.

And it was you in a way you had never seen before. You looked...magnificent.

Your breath got stuck in your throat and couldn't help but wonder if that's how the boy saw you. 

All the stress you got from meeting your ex evaporated from your body as you sat on Miles' thighs and one of his hands rested on yours.

''It's beautiful.''

He hummed. ''When the muse is already gorgeous, it makes everything easier.''

Your heart jumped at the compliment and you pressed your head against his, running your thumb down his cheek as he kept drawing.

''Careful, you'll make my fro flat,'' the boy muttered, still focused on his sketch.

''I'll brush it out for you later,'' you giggled, continuing your ministration on his face.

A few more seconds passed and only the soft sound of a pencil running on paper filled the silence surrounding you. All until the boy broke the ice.

''I've always wanted to ask but...what's your relationship with Miles from here ?''

You gulped at this sudden question. Did he saw...what happened outside?

''Why you wanna know that ?''

Noticing your defensive reaction, he shook his head softly.

''Hey, I'm not forcing you to tell me, I was just wondering since you know...he never tried to contact you since I arrived. I kind of assumed you two were close since you recognized me in my suit. ''

You relaxed at his explanation.

''Oh, uh we were friends, but we had an argument and haven't really talked since.''

You didn't want to think about the guy anymore and ruin this wonderful moment. You hoped your Miles wouldn't mind the white lie you had just spitted out. 

Hopefully, the taller didn't seem to question you more and quickly changed the conversation.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with your ex and everything was going better than ever. Your mom had just left for a trip and the house was left to you and Miles. You woke up to the sound of the plate coming from the kitchen.

Loud sounds.

When you arrived in the living room, you found Miles throwing water in a pan which contained burning eggs. Your mouth dropped.

''What are you doing ?''

He jumped at the sound of your voice before placing his hand on his chest right over his heart.

''Shit, don't scare me like that.'' He then looked at the mess he had created and scratched the back of his neck. ''Uh...I was trying to make breakfast.''

You looked at him, still devoid of words before bursting out laughing.

''And you managed to burn eggs? How do you even burn eggs ?''

You shook your head taking the pan out of his and putting it in the sink.

''What I am going to do with your Miles.''

He pouted following closely behind you like a lost puppy.

''It's the meaning that matters ?''

You glared at him before seeing the opened bag of flour next to you. You smirked before grabbing some and throwing it in his face.

''Hey !''

He retaliated by taking the closest thing to him, which was a raw egg and throwing it on your shirt.

A gasp was heard.

''You did not just do that.''

''Oh, I did. ''

Soon, it turned into a food war, and your enjoyment could be heard by the mix of yells and laughers coming from the kitchen. Out of nowhere, Miles caught the back of your thighs and sat you on the table, before resting between your legs.

''Caught you.''

You laughed gaily, before getting closer to his face with a raised eyebrow.

''What do you want champion? A kiss as a price ?''

Yet, instead of joking back as you expected, the boy only gulped. That's when you noticed the small space separating both of your faces. 

You liked your lips, anxious at his silence and his eyes followed your tongue before slowly travelling back to your nose and your eyelashes. He then closed his eye and shook his head to compose himself.

''The stuff you make me think, preciosa.''

Your mouth dried out at his words and you bit your lips.

''Like what ?''

''I can't say it.''

He averted his eyes from you once again but you stopped him before he could lean away.

''Then show me,'' you whispered.

He widened his eyes as his breath brushed against your lips. You saw as he tried to hold himself back but the intense burning in his eyes showed you that he wanted exactly what you wanted.

''Fuck it.''

He leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours and you automatically responded, sighing in delight.

Finally.

Your lips moved in synchronization and you felt euphoric. After a few seconds, he leaned away, his dark eyes travelling onto your face as if he wanted to capture to moment and carve it in his mind forever.

''You don't know how much I've wanted this."

''Me too,'' you whispered before your mouths found each other again.

You kissed and kissed. For how long, you didn't know. But all you knew is that it felt too good and it only felt like a few seconds before you separated again.

Miles licked his lips and let out a breath.

''That was -wow.''

''Yeah...'' you whispered trying to catch your breath, a bit dazzled by what had just happened.

''I made you this breathless already,'' he laughed before you punched him on the shoulder.

''Shut up !''

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist.

''I would love to kiss you more, but I think we need to clean this up first.''

You followed his eyes and noticed the mess you two had created.

''Yeah...''

He carried you back on the floor and you two got to work. Eventually, you realized you needed more cleaning products and you went to the store while he continued cleaning.

On the way, you kept touching your lower lip with a stupid smile stuck on your face. Miles made you feel all sorts of things and infatuation was the main one. You were already excited to get back home and continue the unfinished business.

The trip to get more cleaning products was fast and soon, you were back at your apartment.

But bliss goes away as fast as it comes, doesn't it ?

When you opened the door to your apartment to find that the living room was a mess. 

But not the mess you had left in the kitchen. 

A people having a physical fight kind of a mess. The armchair was knocked down, the table was broken and the pillows were ripped. 

''Miles ?'' you yelled but received no answer.

Your heart raced as you rushed to look in the different rooms of your home, but there wasn't any living soul.

What the heck was happening?

When you arrived in your room, there was still no one.

But as you were going back to the kitchen, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on your window. 

Exactly like the one your ex used to leave.

From afar, you could even recognize his writing. You snatched it and for the first time, you decided to read it.

Your heart sank at the words.

''I warned you.''

Don't hesitate to comment or reblog, I read everything <33

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME: ISSUE #4

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel O'Hara saves you from falling off the Chrysler building for a second time, and he's not very happy about it.

Word count: 4,400 words.

Content: Slow burn so slow we're getting a reverse speeding ticket, Spidey-boy has a lot of emotions and really needs therapy, he also swears a lot, tiny speck of angst.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[Previous] [TBC]

It's shocking how fast the ground approaches from a height of 72 stories. You always imagined it would take longer given the distance. In movies, the freefall is always captured in a hypnotizing slow motion, but real gravity is brutal and unforgiving.

This time, as you fall through the sky, you don’t see the New York concrete grow wider or nearer. All you see is the vast gap between you and the crystal blue sky rapidly pulling away from you. The buildings looming higher with every second. The blinding sun reflected in the thousands and thousands of glaring windows towering above.

You can't feel your heartbeat or the wind beating against your face. There should be panic. But at the sight of familiar inky-blue piercing through your view, an eerie calm takes over until a comforting numb spreads through your limbs.

Call it misguided naivety. No one should ever place this much trust with their life on a stranger they don't even know to come and save them.

But misguided or not, there's no fear in you this time around. You don't think about how you are plummeting down to your death. Not when you see him speeding after you. Diving head-first into the vast empty space as he closes the distance between you, hand outstretched, reaching for you.

His hand catches around your wrist in mid-air. It's a firm grip like he never means to let go. He reels you in until you're defying gravity, gliding up through the air to meet him until he can wrap his arms around you.

Everything decelerates. The reflection of the rows and rows of windows no longer flashing by. It's a gentle descent as the breeze flows pleasantly through your hair, and if you don't think too hard about how you can't control the direction of movement, you can almost believe you’re flying.

The landing is gentle. He sets you on your feet with such great care that it takes you a second to adjust to the feeling of firm concrete beneath your soles.

Once again, you find yourself standing face to face with the masked superhero who has saved your life more times than you can count on both hands.

You crane your neck to meet his gaze, head tilting upwards until your neck strains, and it strikes you that you've forgotten how tall he was. His head tips down, the dark outline of his masked eyes staring down at you, and it makes the hair on the nape of your neck prickle.

Say something. 

You rack your brain, trying to remember all the questions you had meticulously written down in the notepad hidden in your desk as you planned for this very moment. But they’re missing, wiped cleanly from your mind now that he's here in front of you. Your mouth parts, trying to remember how to use your vocal cords again.

Before you find it, the blue fabric recedes until it reveals his face again. You're met with cutting eyes that glow an otherworldly crimson and the bared sharp canine teeth of a predator as he growls at you. 

"What the hell were you thinking?!" 

The low rumble of his words scrapes down your spine and locks you in a fight or flight response. Except you're doing neither. Fixed in place, unable to move.

One of his hands reaches up to pull at his hair in frustration, as he starts to mumble to himself. He's tugging it so hard you think he's going to yank them out by the roots.

"I can’t believe you! Me estás matando. Casi me da un ataque cardíaco–"

You blink up at him dimly, confused until you realize that he's broken into Spanish. But he's speaking too low and too fast. You can only make out about half of it.

"–No puedo más! I am dying of stress. You're impossible! I turn away for one second…” 

One sentence flows directly into the next without stopping for a single breath, and you're surprised he doesn't go lightheaded from lack of oxygen with how long he goes on.

You raise your hand slightly, reminiscent of a gesture you used to pull in school when you wanted to get the teacher's attention to ask a question. But he doesn't notice. Doesn’t even throw a glance in your direction.

“... and you go Anna Karenina on me. I can't with you, I can't, I can't–"

You try to follow along, looking for an appropriate break in his rant to get a word in edgewise. But like the line of tourists lining up for the Statue of liberty, there doesn't seem to be an end in sight. As rude as it is, the only thing you can think of is clearing your throat, loudly, trying to draw attention to yourself, but that's soundly ignored as well.

"Me vas a sacar canas verdes–-"

One broad hand covers his face as if he's trying to scrub away the beginnings of a migraine, and he keeps going.

Listening to him makes you feel like a child on the receiving end of a scolding by an exasperated parent. Any lingering thread of fear or intimidation gives way to irritation at this man who is so subsumed by his tirade that he doesn't even seem to be aware of your presence, not three feet away from him.

"–Siempre haces esto, una y otra y otra vez–"

You don't know exactly how long he’s been going on for by now, but you know that it's long. You could even swear the shadow by your feet has shifted to the opposite end of the patch of concrete at your feet in the time he’s been talking.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" he asks, apparently finally done. He stands there, arms crossed, with a condescending set to his jaw as he looks down on you.

And god, where to even start with this man? You have enough material about his difficult and avoidant behavior to make a powerpoint presentation out of it. You should block out the boardroom for three whole hours and hold a Q&A after.

How, if he had just spoken to you after you left him not one, not two, but several requests to meet with him, then things could have ended up a lot more civilized.

How, if he hadn't been hiding from you this whole time—gaslighting you— you wouldn't have had to spend over $200 on budget DIY spy crap (in this economy!) on an utterly wasted attempt to catch him. And, to add insult to injury, you’re sure you are never going to use any of that stuff ever again!

How, if he hadn't been talking non-stop and had the self-awareness to take a second to observe others, he'd have realized that you had plenty of things to say to him, if only he had paused long enough to let you.

But somehow in the face of his expectant expression, all that comes out of your mouth is, "I don't know what you want me to say."

His face falls. There's a split second of disappointment, raw and anguished, that flitters across his face. Then it's gone as quickly as it appeared, and he turns away from you. Whatever he was expecting from you, that was obviously not it.

When he speaks again, his voice has turned calm and quiet. He almost sounds resigned.

"Yeah. I don't know either." 

There's a sluggish, awkward silence that lingers on the three feet of concrete stretched between the two of you. The echo of traffic below, the cab horns and chatter swarms the space. After everything that’s happened, it all feels very anti-climatic somehow.

"Can you take me back to my apartment and we can talk? I have coffee. Cake too," you say, trying to break the silence.

"I don't drink coffee." His tone is curt, severing the olive branch you were trying to extend with a sharp snap, and your shoulders sag in defeat and disappointment. But then his face tips back in your direction and meets your eyes. The line of his mouth twitches as if he’s war with himself. 

"But I'll have some cake," he concedes. 

Had you known that a superhero was coming over for a visit, you'd probably have done a better job of cleaning up and making the place presentable.

You would have put away the heap of unfolded, wrinkly laundry that's piled up on your bed, granny panties in full sight. Would have washed the dirty dishes stacked up in your sink like a dangerous game of porcelain Jenga. Or at least cleared out the sad looking take out box where your half-eaten pizza is still resting in a greased up spot on the table.

Still, you're not sure how impressed he would be even if you had. Your studio apartment is a standard size for NYC, meaning in most other places it would be classified as a closet. With his height, he has to duck to make it through the threshold of your door and can barely stand upright without banging his head against the ceiling. It’s ironic that the window entrance is probably less hazardous for him.

You get him a plate of cake and set it on the table in front of him, delicately placing the dessert fork on the side.

"Sorry, I don't have any cookies for you today, just coffee cake."

The sight of him sitting hunched over your Ingatorp IKEA dining table is slightly comical. The table looks like a miniature doll set against his broad frame, and as he picks up the small dessert fork in his large hand, that only adds to the absurdity of the situation. He looks like he’s playing at having a tea party with a child’s play tea set. 

You sit down across from him, watching him intently, trying to gather the nerve to ask the questions you've been dying to ask since this all started. But you're hesitant and fumbling, stumbling on your words like an idiot, "Uhm, so I wanted to ask if you– if you knew why all of this is happening to–"

"No."

You frown at his interruption. "You didn't let me finish," you protest.

He leans back against his chair, waving away your protests dismissively into the air. "I didn't need you to. The answer is no. Next question."

You bite down on your lip to stave off the curse stuck in your throat, trying to force its way out. You hold it. Stemming the tide, as you focus on the task at hand.

"Who are you?"

His head tilts to the side at your question, as his hand draws up and gestures vaguely over the spider emblem of his costume draped over his chest. "Isn't it obvious?" he snarkily responds, "I'm Spiderman"

Great, he's a rude and sassy superhero. You narrow your eyes at him

"You're not the Spiderman I know of."

He doesn't respond to that. Just glares down at the cake as he pierces it with a sharp stab of the fork, making the porcelain underneath clank. Then he scoops a large spoonful and shovels it into his mouth.

God, who eats cake so angrily?

"Why did you save–" you start, but he holds up one finger, motioning for you to pause. 

He cleaves off another piece of cake and shoves it into his mouth, chewing slowly. You watch as he beats the Guinness record of slowest chewer across the table from you, before you finally get to repeat your question.

"Why do you keep saving me?"

"I'm a superhero. I save people. It's what I do."

Bright irritation pings through you at his sarcastic attitude. 

This is like playing the world's shittiest game of 20 Questions, except here the whole goal of the game is to see whose sanity cracks first.

Naively, you had thought that being able to sit down with him in person would mean you could finally start getting some answers. You hadn't been expecting the need to deploy strategic maneuvers, and you pause, taking your time before you speak. 

You need to pick a question he won't be able to evade. You think back at the footage of the nanny-cam, that time he carried you to bed. The worry when you weren't where he expected you to be. The over-familiarity that seeps out of his every action with you as if he already knows you and that the last thing you heard as you fell off the ledge was his voice calling out your name.

"How did you know my name?" you finally ask him.

His back stiffens at the question, jaw grinding down until the small muscle there flexes with irritation.

"I don't."

Liar.

"You called my name when I fell," you remind him.

This time instead of answering, he slides the now empty plate at you across the table.

"Can I have another slice?"

You frown. It's an obvious ploy to buy himself some time to avoid answering your question. But you can't deny his request either.

With a sigh, you push away your chair to bring the plate to the counter. You cut up an obscenely big slice so that he won't be able to use this as an excuse a second time.

Turning back around, you find that the gluttonous self-proclaimed Spiderman is pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks a little worse for wear, a pained expression etched into those tightly knitted brows.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concerned.

"No. I–" He breaks off, his broad palm gripping the back of the chair, and you notice a slight tremor in his fingers. "Something’s wrong." 

He pushes the chair back, trying to get to his feet, but to your surprise, he stumbles and sways. 

He seems just as surprised as you are at his newfound lack of coordination. 

"What the–" He looks down on his feet with concentrated effort. Then he takes another step. It's wobblier than the one before, his knee giving way, and his arm shoots out to grip at the edge of your table for balance.

Alarm bells start to go off in your head. You don't understand what's happening, but he's definitely right, something is wrong. A man that can gracefully scale down the Chrysler building from 72 floors down shouldn't be struggling this much just to take two steps back in your living room.

"Maybe you should sit back down," you suggest, looking up at him. There’s a slight sheen of perspiration that's settled on his forehead. The beginnings of a rosy flush tinting his cheeks. "Do you have any food allergies?"

"No. I don't. No. Super metabolism kind of cuts down on that sort of–” he’s stumbling over his words, each syllable slurred on his tongue, as he shakes his head at you. “No, no allergies. No food sensitivities of any kind except...."

He glares around wildly and his eyes land on the remaining slice of cake perched on your kitchen counter. 

"Did you put fucking coffee in that cake?!?!"

“"Yes?” You whip around, and look at the cake on your counter, not understanding the relevance of his question. “I mean... It's a coffee cake? I told you that!" 

You push aside your growing panic as you try to remember if the EpiPen stored away in your kitchen cupboard is past its expiration.

"You didn't tell me there was coffee in it!"

Is he serious?

"I said ‘coffee cake’! What else would be in there? It's in the name," you snap. 

And god, you can't believe this is what you're arguing with him about at this moment.

"Okay, yeah," he concedes testily, "but coffee cake is its own thing too! Isn’t coffee cake just… cake... that you, like... serve with coffee? It doesn't have coffee in it! Why the fuck does it have coffee in it?"

Does the man even hear himself? You're trying to figure out if you need to call an ambulance, and he is arguing with you on the technicalities of what constitutes coffee cake.

"Okay, wait, but are you dying?" you ask, trying to stay calm despite the pandemonium of panic ringing in your head. 

"No! I'm just intoxitac– intocita– intoshica– I'm just fucking drunk okay!?" he spits out.

Your brain stalls at his statement. Intoxicated!? When did he have time to drink? He seemed fine just a few minutes ago, but now he's slurring and about to topple over.

"You're drunk? How–"

"Spiders get drunk on coffee," he interrupts, and the flush on his cheek deepens to a deep alarming red. If you didn't know better, you'd almost think he was blushing.

"Okay, let's sit you down." You rush over, rounding your dining table as you reach for him.

At the sight of your extended hands, his eyes widen in alarm, He steps back from you, eyeing you like you're something dangerous.

"No. No, I'm–" he takes another step backwards, flinging himself away from your touch, but loses his footing in the process. He tilts over, hand grappling for the edge of the table as he goes, but instead of the edge he manages to take the cake plate with him on the way down.

There's a clank of shattered porcelain, followed by the loud thud of his body hitting the ground.

With the large size of him in your tiny studio apartment and the breaking of porcelain left and right, this feels like the idiom of a bull running wild in a China shop, come to life.

You reach out your hand to help him get up, but he doesn't acknowledge it, anchoring his elbow to the floor for leverage, only to wobble and fall flat against his back again with an angry curse.

Why is he so goddamned stubborn? 

You glance down at him, this gigantic man that is lying sprawled out on the floor with the gravitas of a turtle trapped on its back. He's so huge that he's eating up half of the floor space of your entire home. If he doesn’t get up, you won't be able to take two steps without accidentally stepping on him.

Shaking your head in disbelief at the ridiculousness of the situation, you hunch down on your knees beside him.

There's hesitation etched in those otherworldly crimson eyes as you come near. But as much as he's scowling at you, baring his fangs and trying to look scary, there isn't much he can do from the floor.

"Let me help you," you insist, "let's get you in bed until it wears off. I can't have you passed out on my floor like this."

He takes your outstretched hand, and you pull backwards, trying to bring him up with you. Between the two of you, you manage to get him on his feet again. Barely. 

Whoa.

You crane your head up, up, up til you meet his eyes. Yup, the man is still huge. Must be damn near 7 feet tall and heavy, and you quickly realize there's not much you can do but try to steer so that he falls in the direction of your bed.

Somehow you manage to shepherd him in the right direction, until his knees hit the edges of your bed. He lands with a dramatic thud and you hear your bed frame groan in protest. 

“Do you need anything?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer you. His broad arm drapes over his eyes, blocking you out. 

You sigh, turning on your heels to clean up the mess of coffee cake and broken plates off your floor.

You barely manage to finish sweeping up the floor before you hear soft snoring filling your home.

Knock-off Spiderman is sound asleep, his large shape curled up on your mattress, entirely still.

You settle yourself back at the dining table, eating the leftover coffee cake as you pull up a book on your phone and wait for him to wake.

This was not how you had imagined your first extended interaction would turn out.

Honestly, you can't make sense of any of your interactions with him. How he's constantly avoiding you, yet can't seem to stay away and routinely checks in on you.

How he acts overly familiar in one instance and excessively rude and put off by you the next.

Maybe you remind him of someone else... Maybe even an ex? It feels weird to speculate, but it would explain a lot of things. His belligerent attitude towards you. The way he looks at you with eyes full of resentment, even as he's saving you from certain death. That look in his eyes like he knows you, even though you've never met him.

It doesn't explain how he knows your name though.

From the bed, you can hear him stir, shifting against the mattress with a quiet groan muffled into your pillow. He's softly murmuring something that you can't quite make out, and then he turns in his sleep again, making a pained noise that makes worry squeeze tight in your chest.

Maybe letting him sleep it off wasn't the brightest idea you've had. You probably should've called for the ambulance as soon as he showed physical signs of distress.

You're not a biologist. You don't know how a hybrid spider-human’s physiology works.

What if he's not just drunk? Whoever heard of coffee making someone drunk! And how could it affect him so quickly? There was barely a minute between him stuffing his face and falling all over the place. Some quick, panicked googling confirms that coffee makes spiders a kind of drunk, but it doesn’t say if it’s outright toxic to them.

Oh fuck, what if he's dying!? Oh god, what if a superhero dies in your bed? How will you explain this to your landlord? Or the police! “I fed him coffee cake, and it killed him, officer.” Right, that’s going to go over like a lead balloon! It’ll probably look like you poisoned him. TMZ will be swarming the place. You'll be classified as a supervillain.

Setting down the book, you make your way over to sit on the edge of your bed. You lean over his sleeping form and peer down at him, checking for any signs of physical distress.

That red flush from earlier is still riding high on his cheeks, looking like the beginnings of a fever. You reach out your hand to rest it on his forehead to check his temperature.

Warm.

He stirs at the touch, turning his face and practically nuzzles into your palm. It’s almost endearing as he buries his sharp nose into your wrist.

You hold your breath, worried that exhaling would be loud enough to wake him as you gaze down on him. Up close like this, when he's not being rude, and stubborn and defensive, he's... quite attractive.

He has the kind of sculpted face that Hollywood dreams are made of, angular jaw and a prominent nose that makes him look regal. Not to mention those chiselled cheeks of his are a fucking marvel to look at. But more than that, curled up asleep in your bed, there’s a gentle softness to his features that hadn’t been noticeable when he was awake.  

Now that  he’s not frowning down at you and the line of his mouth isn’t pulled into an angry snarl, you can see that his lips are full and luscious, delicate even. His heavy brows look less intimidating now that his face has relaxed from its perpetual scowl. 

He looks... soft, somehow.

There's a spark of something heated in your veins that has you feeling flushed and warm. You have to turn your eyes, shaking your head and tutting at yourself, because you’re creeping on the drunk guy passed out on your bed, and it’s not a good look on you. 

The commotion makes him stir, his eyes blink softly open. He looks up at you, with half-lidded eyes, and it's different from how he's looked at you up until now. His gaze is still so…. soft.

"Nena," he says quietly.

Your cheeks warm at the warmth in his voice , and you gently pull your hand away from his forehead.

"Sorry, I was just checking if you were okay," you explain awkwardly as you start to back away from him, sliding your knee along the mattress to climb off the bed.

At your movement, he darts upright into a seated position and pulls you to him, clinging onto every inch of you as he buries his face to your side. 

“Don't go,” he murmurs into your neck. His voice is trembling, and you can feel the panic radiating from him as the grip he has on you tightens until it’s bruising.  

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he says, keeps repeating it. You don’t know what he’s apologizing for but the guilt and sadness in his voice tugs at something deep inside your chest. 

Nena, he said, and you realize that even though you're the one he's holding in this moment, he's not talking to you. He thinks you're someone else.

"Please don't leave me again. I-I can't–" he chokes out the words into the hollow of your throat where he's pressed his face tight into your skin. You can't help but notice the damp wetness that gathers there. "I'm trying, but I can't– I don't know how to do this without you."

The words are raw in his throat, and despite your confusion, your chest squeezes tight with a sympathetic ache at the man's obvious heartbreak.

You don't know what's going on here or who he thinks you are. The only thing you know is that you want to make him feel better. To make his hurt a little less painful. To make the consuming guilt you can hear in his voice a little bit smaller. 

"It's okay," you say. 

What the it refers to, you have no idea. But the least you can do is to give the man who has saved your life over and over, a tiny crumb of comfort.

You return his embrace, circling an arm around his shoulder, matching the tightness with which he’s holding you. Your other hand slides into his hair and he shivers at the touch, face burying deeper into your neck.

"I'll protect you,” he murmurs into your skin, “I can do better this time. Keep you safe. I promise.”

"It's okay. It’s okay. I’m already safe," you reassure him, giving him the only truth you know for sure in this moment, "You saved me."

Dedication & Credits: as always to my collaborator on this series, who helps me brainstorm, write, edit and beta-read and everything in between and over with this series. This exists because of her, and I am so grateful to her. The hours I spend shouting into her DMs and bother her on the daily since this series infected my mind. You guys don't know what I put poor @thirstworldproblemss through.

Also to @guruan who was kind enough to read through this and steer me in the right way with the spanish, but also for giving me porn that has kept my brain buzzing for days!!!

Please follow both of these insanely lovely, kind and talented people.

Author's note: the Spanish in this chapter has been left untranslated on purpose, so that it's left ambiguous whether reader speak/understand Spanish. The idea is that if you as a reader understand it, then so does the reader, and vice versa 🥰

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

I Just wanna SHARE!!!

My favorite Audiophile on Reddit, Badjhur, has done a lot of Ghost audios and today he has posted his first König audio!!! I really wanna share this because he is so good! Please give him some love and appreciate his beautiful voice!😍😍

Protector

Paring: Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader

Warnings: torture, canon typical violence, protective ghost, mentions of past trauma, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 6.5k words

Synopsis: You and Ghost were captured and tortured...

This is based on this post that I made a while ago. Basically "touch her and I'll kill you" trope.

“…Get up!”

“…Fucking get up!”

The voice seemed familiar. It was rough, low and resonated in your head. Furious but hidden beneath it was a desperate plea.

Searing hot pain resonated from the back of your head and though your eyes were open you couldn't see a thing through the bright light that burned into your eyes. Something hot rolled down your face and the back of your neck as you stared into the blurry light trying to discern what was going on.

You couldn’t move a muscle, not even your fingers as an intense coppery taste fell into your mouth. It hurt to breathe against the cold floor, your chest and sides collapsing into you causing you to wheeze.

You blinked almost in slow motion. Unable to let your eyes shut despite the pulling weight you felt as if you were going to sink into the floor and fall asleep. You were tired and so cold yet you couldn’t even shiver without feeling pain electrocute you.

“You hear him?” A gruff voice, almost muffled but cold and condescending, called out to you as you felt a nudge on your side. You winced but that’s all you could do as you stared up at the shadow in front of you. “He wants you to get up."

Another voice just as cold said something in a different language you couldn't comprehend in your state. They argued back and forth while you tried to find the familiar person.

You squinted through the light to try to discern who was in front of you. Your vision was too blurry from pain and tears but no matter how many times you blinked them away you couldn't see. It made your heart race but the heavy beating hurt against your chest more than it should.

A swift kick to your gut knocked the wind out of you before you could cry out in pain. You gasped for air as tears ran down your face and more blood filled your mouth. The kick left sharp pains inside your abdomen and every moment you couldn't take in a breath, the more it hurt.

Hands grabbed onto your arms and yanked you off the ground, ignoring the cries you let out as they dragged you across the floor. You were thrown onto a chair and winced when you felt your restraints dig into your sore wrists and ankles as they tightened them around you again.

A hand grabbed you jaw and squeezed, causing you to wince again as you were forced to look ahead of you.

“She’s up now.” The man snickered and your attention moved in front of you. “This is what you wanted, yes?”

Your captor was talking to a man who was tied to a chair in front of you. Now that the light was partially out of your eyes and gravity allowed your tears to be blinked away, you could see.

The man across from you looked unfamiliar. His blond hair was stained with red and his face was bruised with blood as well. Despite that he seemed to have much more strength than you did since he was able to sit up straight when you couldn’t even hold your own head up.

Your eyes widened when you realized that was your lieutenant. That was Ghost.

You were seeing Ghost without his mask.

“Just tell us what we want and you can stop this.” Your captor gestured to your face.

Ghost glared at the man who held your face but said nothing. You couldn’t see how angry he was, how much hatred there was in his eyes and if looks could kill then both of you would’ve been free by now.

Blood dripped from your mouth and your captor let go of you by shoving your head away. He growled something under his breath as he walked away from you. You wanted to see what he was going to do but you didn’t have enough strength to lift your head up. You were glad for that however because almost immediately you could hear the man beating Ghost.

You wished you could tune out the sounds but you couldn’t. Every grunt and labored breath hit your ears, threatening you with an experience you had just been through.

You gathered all the strength you could muster and tried to struggle against your restraints but it wasn’t even enough to make them dig into your skin. You wheezed again and when those few seconds of fighting left you, you were hit with intense exhaustion.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you passed out.

~

Ghost’s chest heaved up and down as fresh blood ran down his face. He wasn’t sure how long his face had been used as a punching bag but he preferred it over being used as a cutting board instead. He would prefer to be anywhere else but in a concrete room, in a building that Price was struggling to find, however that was the risk that came with the job.

A simple recon mission had turned into getting captured by Russian weapons dealers. They weren’t exactly the hospitable type considering his nose was broken and he was missing a few fingernails.

He wasn’t new to torture but this had to be the worst torture method he had been through.

Ghost looked up at you and felt his entire world shatter.

If he hadn’t seen your eyes searching for him, he would’ve thought you were dead. You were covered in blood and bruises of all colors. Your clothes were tattered from having knives carved into your skin and he could see a few burn marks that would surely leave nasty scars. You had lost so much blood he was surprised you were still alive but so grateful you were holding on.

You weren’t supposed to be in here with him and there was no denying that it was his fault you were.

You both had been captured at the same time, a mistake from you both but he took the sole blame for it as your lieutenant. You were separated and Ghost assumed that they were at least keeping you locked up without touching you while they tried their hardest to get information out of him.

He assumed they were just going to keep trying, they were going to continue to beat the living hell out of him and he was going to say nothing to them. But he was proved wrong when they quickly realized they were getting nowhere with him so they brought you in to try to beat it out of you too. And then Ghost made the stupid mistake by opening his mouth and telling them to stop.

It took one word from him to seal your fate. One word and you became their favorite toy to beat, cut and harm in every possible way just to get Ghost to talk.

You were being used against him and as much as he wanted to deny it, to say he was an operative who knew how to handle these situations and was disciplined beyond the nines, it was working.

Every scream, every cry you let out broke down his defenses and it became harder for Ghost to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to tell them everything and that was scary for more than one reason which made him feel sick.

Scary because if they got the right info out of him, he could jeopardize the lives of many and become even more of a failure than he already was in this moment. Scary because if he was willing to break to end your suffering for the sake of both of you, he had to come to terms with how he truly felt about you.

And right now he couldn’t.

Ghost stopped himself by telling himself that once he gave them the info they needed, both of you were going to die. It was enough to keep his mouth shut until the next round of torture came.

All of the torture and pain for you was going to end soon. There was a spot on his restraints that was hidden from the weapons dealers that he had been working on since he had been strapped down. He could feel it start to become loose enough he could break his hand free, he just had to wait for the right moment.

“Sergeant.” He called out to your limp form with a raspy voice before he spit blood onto the floor.

You didn’t respond. You were out cold and his chest hurt more if it was even possible.

This past round of torture had been especially cruel and long. The weapons dealers had been relentless in their beatings, going so far as to toss you on the ground to kick you as hard as they could until you were coughing up blood.

“You better not fucking die on me.” He tugged on his restraint and never looked away from you. “That’s an order.”

It was a feeble attempt to make himself feel better. He worked against his restraint, staring at the bruises on your skin and the blood dripping from your face onto your clothes.

He thought about how you were going to be so much more damaged after this. Your smile was going to be absent from your beautiful face, your laughter would no longer grace his soul, you probably wouldn’t even give him those little touches he thought he hated. They had hurt you so much more than he ever wanted to think about and that made him pissed.

Ghost broke through it with ease. Adrenaline and rage coursed through his veins as he wasted no time ripping the rest of his restraints off. When he was finally free he shot up from his chair and nearly collapsed on the floor.

He was in worse shape than he wanted to believe.

Black spots dotted his vision and his aching muscles weighed him down enough that he had to hold onto the chair to keep himself from falling. His head pounded furiously which made it difficult to even blink as he found himself short of breath even though he had only stood up from the chair.

Everything hurt but he couldn’t let that stop him. He needed to be strong for you. He could rest when you were safe.

He pushed off the chair and kneeled in front of you. His eyes jumped all over you, trying to make sure you weren’t actively bleeding out before he gently cupped your face with shaky hands.

“Sergeant.” His voice was softer than usual as he held your face. “Come on, wake up.”

When Ghost moved your head ever so slightly you woke up with a slight jump. You immediately began to breathe quicker, thinking that a new round of torture was going to start before he spoke.

“It’s me.” He assured you and watched your eyes finally open. He always thought he was blessed by the universe when you looked at him but now he truly felt like the luckiest man to see them after all you both had been through. “It’s Ghost.”

“Ghost…” You rasped out, wincing from the pain as you relaxed now that he was in front of you.

“I’m here.”

He kept a hand on your cheek as he began to undo your restraints, one of his fingers pressed against your weak pulse. You weren’t bleeding out but a few more beatings like the one you had just endured and you’d be gone from him. He had to be quick and extremely careful when breaking out of here.

“I’m getting us out of here.” He explained in a low tone as your wrists became free but you didn’t move to get up. “We’ll have to move quick. I can’t fight and carry you at the same time, think you can walk for me?”

Ghost was prepared to have to carry you if you said you couldn’t. He’d come up with another plan instead of fighting his way out of there.The idea of moving sounded horrible to you, he could see it in your eyes, but you nodded as you gripped the chair tightly to prepare yourself to stand up.

He grabbed your arms as gently as he could and was going to help you up when he heard movement outside of the room.

“Fuck.” He gently set you back down in the chair and held your face so you were looking at him. “Stay.”

He moved away from you, and took position beside the door and listened to the approaching footsteps with bated breath. The silence in his ears was only broken by the loud beating of his heart as he braced himself for a fight he was determined to win.

When the door opened, his eyes narrowed. All of the torture he endured turned into anger but all of the torture you endured turned into blinding hot rage. He barely had enough self control to wait for the man to even enter the room before he began swinging.

The man let out a shocked yelp as Ghost’s fist connected with his face. He had no time to react when he grabbed the man by the shirt and flung him in the wall, pinning him against it as he rammed his fist into his face relentlessly.

Ghost was seeing red. He kneed the man in the stomach and caught his arm when he tried to fight back, ignoring the loud crack that came from it when twisted it as hard as he could. He didn’t care when the man screamed in pain, in fact he almost relished in it before he managed to wrap his arms around the man's neck and started to choke him.

He easily could’ve snapped it. The fight would’ve been over but he didn’t want it to end that quick. He wanted this man to suffer for putting his hands on you, almost wishing he could return the damage but there was no time for that.

The man went limp and Ghost threw him on the ground. He was breathing heavily as he snatched the knife he had from his back pocket.

The man deserved worse.

“Still with me, sergeant?” He rushed back over to you and when you nodded he carefully wrapped his arms around you. “We gotta go.”

You tried not to scream, but a groan left your throat as pain flushed over you when he pulled you up. Your chest heaved up and down as your vision went black, and you fell against Ghost. You felt his protective arms hold you up and close to him as you waited for your vision to come back. You could hardly stand on your own but you gripped his forearms for dear life while you forced yourself to stay strong.

“I’m okay.” You didn’t sound convincing as you tried to push away from him but he wouldn’t let go.

“No.” He bent down and wrapped his arm under your knees before you picked up with ease despite the screaming pain in his muscles. “I’ve got you.”

You were unnaturally cold in his arms. He held you close to his chest to try to warm you up. His heart skipped a beat when you wrapped your arms around him and hid your face in the crook of his neck. He adjusted his hold on you, trying his best not to hurt you as he did, and made his way towards the door.

He hoped that no one had heard the struggle and when he glanced at the body on the ground, it took a lot of self control not to kick it.

“Your mask…” Your weak voice was close to his ear and sent a shiver down his spine.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll be fine.”

He hadn’t even thought about his face being exposed. He didn’t care if anyone saw his face at this moment, the only thing on his mind was getting you out of there.

Ghost peered out of the door down the dimly lit hall. He wasn’t sure how big the building was but luckily for the both of you no one seemed to be around. That didn’t make him feel any less on edge, in fact he was more on edge since he didn’t know the layout of the building or the routine any of its inhabitants had. For all he knew, someone could be coming around the corner and you’d both be screwed.

He stepped out in the hallway, keeping his attention on both sides as he stayed close to the wall. He moved close to the ground, trying to keep his footsteps quiet.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as he turned around a corner.

“Stop.” He interrupted and felt more anger rise in him “I don’t want to hear any of that. Not now or when we get out of here.”

“Sorry…”

Noise from down the hall made him stop. His heart started to race and he quickly raced back to the corner, hiding behind it as he listened to the approaching chatter of two guards.

His eyes frantically searched for a room to hide in before he noticed what looked to be like a supply closet. He swung the door open and stepped inside, struggling to shut the door before they rounded the corner. He got it to close to a crack before he heard their voices closer than ever.

He stilled and held you closer to him. He felt your arms wrap just a little bit tighter around his shoulders as you both tried to breathe quieter. In the silence of the supply closet he could hear just how bad your wheezing was and it only gave him more motivation to get out of there as fast as he could.

He hoped neither one of your lungs were going to collapse before you made it out.

The chatter from the guards slowly began to disappear but he waited. He didn’t move a muscle even after the guards were long gone from the hallway. He wanted to be sure that no one else was going to show but for the first time since he had been subjected to torture he was able to catch his breath.

The pitch black closet and the silence within gave him a sense of security. He was fine with listening to your breathing in his ear as he shut his eyes for just a moment, just to find some peace.

You must’ve felt the same since your hold around him loosened and your breathing had gone steady. He held you closer to him, making sure you were still secure in his arms.

“They hurt you.” You whispered, causing him to open his eyes.

You were pointing out the obvious but he could hear the worry in your voice especially when your thumb caressed a cut on his neck.

“I’ve been through worse, don’t worry about me.” Ghost assured you as he pushed the closet door open with his foot. “You should see yourself.”

You grunted maybe out of pain or exhaustion when you were reminded of the serious state you were in. Your eyes were barely able to stay open as he maneuvered through the halls again.

“Thought you were dead.”

“Hurts too much for that.”

Ghost clenched his jaw tightly, making a mental note that when you both got out here to find the fuckers. He would request a solo mission when he got off leave just for the purpose of finding the other weapons dealer. They may have been able to capture him this one time but they made the mistake of not killing him before he got out.

He quickened his pace down the hall, hoping to find some sort of indication of where he was going. There were no signs, the walls were so empty that he wondered if maybe he was going in circles. He huffed and hoped that wasn’t the case.

A yell echoed off the walls, not too far from where he stood, and he instinctively tightened his grip on you. You winced and he wanted to apologize but he was now on high alert as he listened to the angry voices that were impossible to tell where they were coming from.

He was an expert at this. It was his job to sweep the halls and be prepared for everything, to know when someone could be next or when he was approaching an enemy. His hyper awareness of his surroundings was second nature and yet he had gotten into this situation and he was struggling to put those skills back into use.

He was distracted by his aching muscles and screaming wounds that stained his dirty clothes. His mind raced with trying to keep track of where he was and keeping you safe.

You were taking up most of his mind too. He was trying to not hurt you, to jostle you around and make your wounds worse while trying to hightail it out of there so you could get the help that you needed. He was being too kind to your wounds in a situation like this, his military training of just getting the person out and dealing with the aftermath completely gone from his mind.

There were too many things on his mind and he wasn’t able to control it like he usually did.

It was going to get you both killed, but he couldn’t do it and that’s how he knew he needed to get out there quick. He wasn’t in any shape to be doing this yet if he had waited any longer then you both could’ve died as well. Overall, the situation you both were in was the worst case scenario that no one wanted to be in while working this job.

“Need you to hold onto me and not let go.” Ghost told you and though you had been doing that already, he wanted to make sure you were going to do it when he would need to run away.

“Okay.” You said through gritted teeth as his fingers dug into a particularly sore spot on your side.

Once you tightened your hold around him, enough to where it made him flinch from the pain, he began to jog down the hallway. Despite his quick movements and being as massive as he was, his footsteps were still light enough that it would be difficult to hear him.

He hoped that at some point he would come across a window or a room he could stop in to look for information. He couldn’t keep going around the base full of enemies who would most likely kill on sight blind. Every moment he spent wandering through the halls he was taking a gamble with death.

His ears heard it before he could register it.

Footsteps from around the corner, fast ones that came up onto him far too quickly for him to turn and run the other direction. He barely had time to react when three men rounded the corner.

One of the men didn’t hesitate to slam his fist into Ghost's jaw even after they were startled by seeing him. Ghost stumbled back and tried to hold onto you but the man practically ripped you out of his arms to throw you on the ground.

He was pushed back into the wall, becoming disoriented by the barrage of punches to his sore head, unable to throw any punches back himself.

You were trying your best to fight one of the other guards who had trapped you on the floor underneath as he laid waste to you but your injuries made it extremely difficult to do anything, all the while the other man carefully watched.

Ghost managed to get one good punch to the man jugular before he pulled the knife out of his pocket. He stabbed it through the man’s neck, jamming in it as far as he could while he choked on his blood, before he threw him on the ground.

He didn’t hesitate to throw the knife at the man on top of you, hitting him right in the neck.

With the last of your strength you pushed the guard off you and sliced the knife across his throat.

“Y/n!” Ghost called out to you when he watched you go limp before he turned his attention on the other man.

He saw red again when he realized it was the other weapons dealer. He clenched his fists and charged towards the weapons dealer. He noticed the gun that was pointed at him but he was too focused on the hidden look of fear in the man's eyes as he sprinted towards him.

The weapons dealer pulled the trigger and hit Ghost in the thigh, but that didn’t stop him. Nothing but a bullet to the head was going to stop him from his determination to kill the man in front of him.

Ghost grabbed the man by the wrist to twist it and the gun went off in his ear. He wasted no time to punch him as hard as he could, the ringing in his ears spurring him on. He slammed his fist into his face as hard as he could, feeling his knuckles crack from the force.

He lifted his good leg and kicked the man’s knee cap in, causing them both to fall to the floor. The weapons dealer tried to roll out from under him but Ghost grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into the concrete repeatedly to stop him.

He was feral, blinded by rage, harming the man in front of him not out of survival but out of passionate revenge. Memories of your screams made him go crazy as he wrapped his hands around the weapons dealer neck. Every cry replayed in his mind along with the image of your damaged body causing him to squeeze hard while the man struggled underneath him.

If Ghost could see himself he would be unrecognizable. Your pain had resurfaced an old evil within him that hadn’t seen the light of day since he adopted his new name. It brought the monster that was obsessed with violence and the death of anyone who dared to lay a harmful hand on him or the one he loved.

There was a reason why this side of him had been put out of commission. He hated the scalding hotness that raced through his veins, the tightness in his throat, and the way he felt out of control. It was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

The weapons dealer’s body went limp. It took a moment for Ghost to realize he was dead but when he saw that he was no longer writhing underneath him, he released his hands.

Ghost was breathing heavily as he stared down at the dead body underneath him. His vision blackened and whitened, hot liquid running down his leg and staining his dirty pants with fresh blood. He felt dizzy from the blows to his head and the rapid blood loss which made it hard for him to get up from the floor.

He clenched his teeth, almost breaking them as he crawled his way to you. He bit back any groans as he came up to you, placing his fingers on your pulse.

It was weak, almost non-existent, but still there. That was enough to keep him going.

He cradled your head with hands that had just committed atrocities so gently. He stared down at the blood pouring out of your nose and the new bruises that were already forming. He hoped for your sake that your face wasn’t broken.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He assured you even though you were unconscious. He carefully pulled you into his arms again and held onto you securely. “Gonna get you out of here. Gonna patch you up, make you okay.”

His words were slurred and he was blabbering. The blood loss was getting to him and he knew if he didn’t try to move now, both of you were going to die.

Ghost braced himself, taking a deep breath and stood up on shaky legs. He couldn’t hold back the groan of pain that ripped through his throat. He took shallow breaths, his skin getting sweaty and cold before he resumed down the hall as if nothing had happened.

He limped down the cold, ugly hallways and left a trail of blood in his wake. Every step felt like the bullet wound grew bigger, ripping his skin apart until there was nothing left.

He didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was you.

You. Just you.

Your poor state. Your conscious body as it hung limp in his arms, covered in dirt, blood, grime. Hours, days worth of pain that would never go away that would forever soil your mind and body with scars. You could be dead in his arms, having bled out internally and he wouldn’t know until he got out of there.

“You’re okay.” He mumbled to push those thoughts away. “You’re okay…”

Ghost kept repeating it to himself like a mantra. It helped him keep the little amount of strength he had to keep you in his arms when he heard rapid footsteps echo off the halls again.

He was prepared to run or try to at least. He was prepared to fight until he was shot through if it meant you would somehow survive.

“Simon!”

He knew that voice. The rough, commanding voice belonged to Price and he had never been happier to hear him bark out his name. He felt like he could breathe again as he stopped in his tracks.

He was lucky that Price had finally found them and he wondered if maybe that’s what spurred on the sudden yelling from the base. Honestly he didn’t care at the moment. You were getting out of that hell hole and neither of you had to ever step foot back in it. He nearly collapsed as he heard his team’s footsteps get closer but he held on as he swallowed thickly.

He blinked the blurriness from his eyes and looked ahead of him seeing the rest of the task force armed to the teeth rushing towards him.

“Take her.” That was the first thing he said to them as they approached him and he held you out.

Gaz quickly took you from his arm, holding you close to him before he raced down the hall following behind Price who was already commanding a plan to get out of there.

Ghost watched after them, missing the comforting weight of you in his arms and finding himself much lighter without you. He wished he had the strength to carry you himself but he could hardly walk forward without stumbling which prompted Soap to wrap his arm around his shoulder.

Soap took most of his weight as they both walked down the hall.

“Johnny.” He weakly said as his vision began to spin, his fingers digging into his shirt.

“I got you L.t.” Soap assured him as he pushed forward.

Ghost suddenly felt too heavy to walk anymore. All of his strength was gone now that he didn’t have to worry about you. You were safe and now he could finally go to sleep. His vision went spotted with black dots before his knees buckled underneath him.

“Ghost!”

~

Ghost woke up with a start. The first thing he noticed was the dull ache he felt all over his body, the brunt of it taken away by what he could only assume were heavy pain meds.

“Morning.” He looked to his right to see Soap sitting on a chair next to his bed with a small smile. “How you feelin’ L.t?”

“Ask me later.” His voice was hoarse and his throat was scratchy, causing Soap to hand him a glass of water with a chuckle.

He drank the water, finding that as soon as it touched his mouth he was incredibly thirsty. He chugged it, finding that even though it wasn’t cold it was the most refreshing thing he had in months.

When he was finished Soap took the glass from him and refilled it from a pitcher that sat on a table next to his bed. He handed the glass back to him and watched with slight worry as he began to chug it again. While he did he looked at the room around them..

He was lying in a hospital bed. The usual hard mattress and uncomfortable blankets were anything but that as he felt himself sink deep into them, finding a safe warmth in them. He was connected to various machines that beeped in tandem with his heart while his body was covered in stitches and sterile white bandages.

His hand was already in a cast and his leg was propped up on a fluffy pillow.

He was in the infirmary back on base. He was safe from harm.

“You're a beast, you know that?” Soap said as he took the glass back when he was finished. “Breakin’ out and running through the base with a bullet in your leg.”

“Had to. If I didn’t, we might’ve died-”

His heart stopped. His eyes searched around the infirmary frantically as he attempted to get out of bed to go look for you but Soap put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Easy. She’s okay.” He assured him before he jutted his chin across from him.

Ghost looked over and his gaze softened immediately.

You were sleeping in the bed next to him. You were hooked up to the same machines as him but you were bandaged up a lot more. He watched your chest rise from your steady breathing, finding himself mimicking it as his shoulders relaxed. You looked peaceful and deep in sleep, most likely from copious amounts of pain meds the doctor gave you.

He laid back on the bed, his eyes never leaving you.

“She was in worse condition than you.” Soap began as he eyed you both. “Broken ribs, other bones, major concussion, internal bleeding. Been sleeping ever since we picked you both up.”

Ghost swallowed thickly. He couldn’t even begin to describe the pit that formed in his stomach as he watched you. As much as he wanted to rationalize that the guilt he felt wasn’t warranted, his mind wouldn’t let him get rid of it.

He had almost indirectly killed you. He wouldn’t forgive himself if that had happened.

“How long?” He mumbled and heard Soap let out a deep sigh.

“About a week.” Soap said and he shook his head.

“Fucking hell…”

It had certainly felt longer than a week. Those long hours of torture and the short periods of recuperation between them had felt like an eternity. He remembered how every hour that passed by had been a month. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Soap had told him that, but knowing that so much damage had been inflicted on you both in a matter of a week made the pit in his stomach worse.

He couldn’t imagine how long it felt for you.

The physical toll this was going to take on you would hopefully clear up and not become long term but he knew your mental would most likely take the biggest hit.

“Price is puttin’ both you on leave for a while.” Soap caught his attention and he looked back at him. “He won’t admit it out loud, but he’s worried.”

“Guess that’s expected.” Ghost huffed and shut his eyes for a moment. Even though he knew it was the right call, considering the extent of the injuries you both had suffered, he absolutely hated the idea of having to stay on base, or worse, go back home. He would be forced to take it easy, to not do anything strenuous which meant he would be stuck doing absolutely nothing. It was the perfect opportunity for him to think too much.

He couldn’t hide himself in his work like he normally did. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be able to hide himself in any of the hobbies he had that he rarely participated in.

A heavy sigh left his chest and he rubbed his eyes. He would have to deal with the hell he was going to put himself through, he was used to it, but that didn’t mean it was going to be easy.

“Here.” Soap tossed one of Ghost’s spare masks on his lap. “Figured you might want it.”

Ghost picked up the mask and looked at the black material. It was just one of his simple balaclavas and in any other moment he would’ve put it on so at least he felt some sense of security in the midst of all of this. However when he glanced at you, something in him told him to wait.

“Thanks, Johnny.” He watched as his friend gave him a small smile and patted him on the shoulder.

“Get some rest, L.t.” Soap stood up and pushed the chair out of the way.

Ghost watched him leave before he turned his attention back to you. You were the only thing he really wanted to look at in the infirmary, finding that you distracted him from the annoying beeps of the machines and the sterile walls that surrounded you both.

This wasn’t the first time that Ghost had found himself watching you as you slept.

Most of the time his attention was elsewhere when you both were on missions. He always took first watch on missions that spanned more than one day since he struggled to fall asleep as quickly as you. His eyes would wander to you when nothing in particular was happening and he was immensely intrigued by your ability to seemingly sleep peacefully no matter the situation.

He almost envied you. It took a while for him to take control of his thoughts when he laid down to sleep and yet the moment you shut your eyes you were gone.

Even now you seemed to be the most comfortable he had seen you in a week or even a month.

It was most likely the meds, but that didn’t stop the sense of comfort he felt as your chest rose and fell slowly.

Ghost toyed with the mask in his hand. His eyes bounced around your relaxed face and he let out a soft sigh that made him sink further into the mattress. He wanted to be awake when you woke up, but his eyelids started to get too heavy for him to keep open.

You had that effect on him and you didn’t even know.

In his sick, twisted mind he hoped he had the same effect on you. He hoped that he gave you a similar comfort and safety that you gave him despite the fact that he was a ruthless killer. Even after all he’d done in the enemy’s base, the cold blood murders he committed, he hoped that somehow you were happy to have him around you.

He was sure the moment you woke up he would too. And when he did he would make sure that you knew you were safe.

He always would.

A/N: Part 2? Also this is way longer than I had expected lol