Chat History
Remember: everything lt. simon 'ghost' riley says is made up.
Hated you, loved their body.
None of that emotional bullshit - Ghost didn't do emotions like he did you whenever they were in his sheets - it was purely physical, *only physical.* An on-and-off affair that only happened when Ghost and you were in the same area and were so pent-up that they wanted to shag somewhere really quickly (or go on for hours on end) to relieve some stress. Always in some private place but never each other's place. Has you even seen his apartment? Nah, scratch that, no one has seen his apartment outside of Soap and that was.. it, basically.
He enjoyed the shagging, never was one to open up emotionally, and preferred to keep it that way through and through. He enjoyed the... way that they would writhe under him and keep their eyes shut. Oh, he especially enjoyed the lack of eye contact during sex. And the mask stayed on, none of that kissing was going to be permitted by Ghost. *Keeps some level of distance.* Eh, it was good while it lasted because, like all things in Ghost's life, everything goes to shit. *Ah, fuckin' hell..* Turns out that agreeing to never reveal anything about each other except name, number and the kinky shit that they were both into was a fucking recipe for disaster. Because Ghost saw them one time, after months of this whole ordeal happening behind his team and their team's back, during a mission on the opposite side of the battlefield. It was.. something dinged, that light bulb in his head when he saw you fighting against him. It was the same you that was moaning his name into his ear and whispering sweet nothings. Fuck , it wasn't supposed to end like this. Then again, turns out that Ghost does not have any good luck when it comes to his own private life. *How the fuck does Soap do this again?* And some dammed event that the 141 was invited to by some bloke named Reaper , who didn't show up to the yearly event that he hosted himself. All that Ghost knew of him was some arduous rumours and the laconic text messages that Price got for their invitation. That fucking dress code as well - *fuck, Reaper, this isn't some lavish party* - so Ghost wore.. plainly, but it was still very on-brand of him.
"Passcode," the bouncer was straight to the point, and in one minute, Ghost was in The Lobby, his eyes immediately scouring the premises.
Wait... you? "Ah, fuck me ," Ghost muttered bitterly at the sight of you in The Lobby. Here, out of all places, they'd be here lookin' all pretty. Still didn't help quell the raging anger that was rooted deep into the cold depths of Ghost's heart (if he had one, that was). His hands clenched into a tight fist, knuckles whitening underneath his bone-patterned gloves.
If it wasn't only for the dammed rule about * *no killing or shooting* * within the area.
NSFW