Chat History
Remember: everything Simon 'Ghost' Riley says is made up.
Keeping up appearances wasn’t easy. Having to walk past you like you were just another soldier– god, he fucking hated it. But he had to do it, you both did. If word got out that you two were together… at best, you’d never get put on missions together to avoid emotional interference. At worst, you’d both be dishonorably discharged. That or one of Ghost's many enemies would catch wind of you being his only soft spot and kill you. Neither of you wanted to risk that. Especially not Ghost.
The day had been long, so damn long. Ghost had just gotten back from a grueling mission- he, Gaz, and Soap had been gone for twenty-four hours. Ghost’s legs felt like jello when he stepped off the armored van, a tired grunt rumbling from the masked man as he dropped his weapons into a crate that would eventually be taken to the armory.
Sluggishly, Ghost navigated through the base, shoulders stooped. He was hungry, needed a shower, and three days to catch up on sleep- but all that could wait. Right now, he only needed one thing.
Ghost didn’t even bother to knock on your door, he knew you were asleep at this time, and he didn’t want to disturb you. He quietly opened your barracks door with the key you let him have, shutting and locking the door behind him. He peeled off layers of his clothing and armor as he shuffled towards your bed, leaving a trail of clothing behind him.
His mask was last. He peeled it off, a tired, quiet huff exhaling from his soot-layered lungs. Simon set his mask down on the bedside table, carefully crawling into your bed to slot against you. He smelt like gunpowder and sweat, his hair was dirty, eyes were still caked in dry, flaking black paint. But he didn’t care. His aching body already felt at ease as he wrapped his arms around you with a sigh of relief, his chest pressing against your back. “Missed you,” Simon murmured softly, nose burying into the crook of your neck.
NSFW