Call Of Duty x Reader ||Open Requests||

Ghost x Reader (Fluff Pt. 2)

Ghost grinned behind his mask at that and shook his head but narrows his eyes.

"Alright, alright, fair 'nough. I'll just have to show you how it's done then." He teases you, his tone carrying a hint of mock seriousness. He moved around the kitchen with a practiced ease as if he knew exactly where everything was. The only reason he did was because his room is set up the exact same - just as everyone else's is. Settling the kettle on the stove, he glanced back at you with a raised brow as you stood in the doorway of the kitchenette. 

"So? What was the nightmare about? From that scream it sounded pretty bad." 

"Well..." You move to the empty space on the counter across from the stove and push yourself up onto it with ease. Your mind processes how to say what you want to tell him about it but your eyes get caught on his movements while he sets up the stuff for the tea. "It uh... It was actually about you..."

You don't go into detail about it, scared that if you do, he'll stop and think you're scared of him but when in all reality, you're only scared that he'll leave you to your thoughts alone. Ghost pauses for a moment, his attention turning fully to you as you open up to him. He maintained his calmness as it comes back to him from before he'd heard your scream. 

"Me?" He echoes after a moment, his eyes meeting yours. The kettle continued its soft hiss, punctuating the quiet conversation. "Well, I hope I wasn't the villain in your dream. Wouldn't want you thinking I'm the bad guy." He cracked a small smile, trying to ease the gravity of the moment while giving you space to share more if you chose to.

You smile a little but you look down at your hands folded in your lap, pursing your lips and trying your best not to look guilty of anything. 

"Thats... that's the thing though, you uh... you were..." You give him a terrified smile, not wanting to hurt him, "You and the others thought that I was a traitor and..." 

You stop yourself from finishing the sentence, your heart starting to pound and your ears starting to ring from the thought. You squeeze your hands together to try to calm yourself down a bit but it seems like it doesn't work until you hear his voice once more. 

"Hey..." His expression softened behind his balaclava and he approaches you, eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and understanding. Choosing his next words wisely as he places a hand on your shoulder gently. "It was just a nightmare, we both know that you aren't a traitor, I honestly don't think you'd have it in you to hurt any of us. We're too close of a team."

The kettle's whistle cut through the tension, providing a brief distraction. Ghost moved to finish preparing the tea, giving you a moment to collect yourself. 

"Nightmares can mess with your head, but remember, you've got people who've got your back," he added, his tone soft.

"I uh, I know I do. I just... I'm not sure what happened. Other than the last thing I fully remember was being shot. At least you finished me off quick." You give him an awkward smile and shrug lightly as you watch his every move, admiring him silently. "Do you ever take that thing off?" 

You ask, referring to his balaclava you've noticed he always wears. 

"I mean do you sleep in it? Wash it? Anything?" You try to distract yourself from the thought of that nightmare before it comes back over again.

Ghost nodded solemnly at your comment about the nightmare, acknowledging the unsettling nature of your dream. 

"Well, I'm glad I could at least give you a swift exit in dreamland," he replied with a faint smirk, attempting to inject a touch of levity into the conversation.

As you shifted the topic to his balaclava, he paused for a moment, his gloved fingers tracing a subtle pattern on the tea kettle and you wonder why he's even doing that but then you remember his gloves are also heat resistant so you don't pay too much more mind to it. He's just trying to distract himself a little. 

"Not much reason to take it off, really," he admitted. "Keeps things simple. And yeah, it gets washed. Can't have it smelling like gunpowder all the time, can we?" 

His response carried a hint of mystery, as if the mask held more than just a practical purpose for him. You always wondered what exactly he looked like underneath it, though. 

"Why do you wear it? I mean I know you've told Soap you aren't ugly. Just how not ugly are you?Or what about the gloves, why not take those off?" You press your hand to his shoulder playfully pushing him. Ghost chuckled at your teasing, appreciating the attempt to shift the focus away from the dream. 

"Well, let's just say the world might not be ready for the full Ghost experience," he replied, his tone light but guarded.

"As for the gloves," he continued, lifting one hand to inspect the black leather, "sometimes it's just about the feel. Familiarity, you know?" 

He shrugged playfully in response to your push, the picking providing a welcome reprieve from the heavier topics. 

"But if you ever need a peek behind the mask, maybe I'll consider it. Just for you, Y/n."

"I-" You pause and burst into laughter, "Oh? Just for me huh?" 

You shake your head and raise a brow when you look back at him, "Mugs are in the cabinet to your right, top shelf." 

 Steadying yourself on the counter from your laughing fit, you place your hands under your thighs but close to the edge of the counter.

Ghost smirked at your laughter, enjoying the momentary lightness that had settled in the room. 

"Of course, just for you," he quipped, giving you a mockingly exaggerated wink.

Moving to retrieve the mugs, he glanced over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on you. 

"Top shelf, huh? You trying to make it a challenge?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. As he reached for the mugs, the quiet between them felt like a welcome respite from the shadows of the night.

"Maybe." You state very matter of factly, "I might just wanna see you struggle some time, since you never struggle in the field or ANYWHERE." 

You watch him, your hair falling over your shoulder as you lean forward, looking at the floor below you. 

Ghost chuckled, the sound blending with the soft clinking of mugs. 

"Well, you've got to keep some mystery, right?" he replied, his movements fluid as he prepared the tea. The kettle's warmth filled the air, a comforting contrast to the tension that had gripped the room earlier.

Turning back towards you, he raised an eyebrow. 

"And who said I don't struggle? You just haven't seen me trying to assemble IKEA furniture," he added with a sly grin, attempting to maintain the playful banter despite the lingering undercurrent of their earlier conversation.