The Ghost of You - Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

BLUFF

A/N: This story has songs associated with it to set the mood, so I've listed them in some sections of the chapters in parentheses :)

The chilled air of the base swept across you when you entered the room. Price was bustling around to gather the last few dishes from the dinner while Ghost and Gaz sat around the table chatting. Soap joined them and took his seat beside Ghost, leaving you to sit beside Gaz and across from the enshrouded soldier. Ghost was shuffling the cards, the only sound emitting from him being the flutter of the cards. Price joined the table and brought along from the kitchen with him a bottle of bourbon and five stubby glasses. "I like how you think, captain." Soap acclaimed. Price screwed open the top on the bourbon and began to disperse it, allowing the umber spirit to flow evenly into each individual glass. You noticed the low, staticky music emitting from a box radio sitting on the adjacent table.

Ghost dealt two cards to everyone, laying three face up on the board and two face down. The three cards on the board were two of diamonds, a queen of spades, and a seven of clubs. You took your cards, bending them up to peek at them. In your hand you held a queen of hearts, and a queen of spades. Price handed everyone a glass, and each soldier took it graciously. Everyone including you took an initial sip, all except for Ghost. The spirit burned your throat on the way down, but it sent a gratifying chill in your chest. You began to wonder if Ghost even ate at all. "You know how to play, don't you?" Gaz asked you, and you bobbed your head in acknowledgment. "I do, I played a lot with my friend back home."

"So, is everyone staying in?" Soap asked, eager to play. You looked at your cards again, studying the board. You had a strong three-of-a-kind, so you decided to remain in the game. Everyone stayed in, and Ghost flipped another card over, displaying a queen of hearts. You now had four-of-a-kind across the board. Internally, you were confident and ready to win, but you kept your exterior collected. Price, Gaz, and Soap all scoffed and folded their cards. "What a shitty hand." Gaz complained, reaching for the glass of bourbon and downing another sip with a scrunched reaction to the burn.

You met Ghost's stare, and his blonde lashes fluttered slightly with a twitch. His gaze leisurely glanced back down at his cards, and he sighed, waiting for you. He wasn't folding. "If you're staying in, turn the card over." You challenged, which Ghost swiftly met your demand. He turned the thin piece of plastic over, and you bit down on your tongue; It was a four of clubs. Ghost cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat, leaning forward on the table. "Are you in? Or are you out?" He asked, a sly tone of confidence resonating throughout your ears. You tried to read him, but he was unreadable. He didn't look like he was winning or losing, his irises were dead as if he was born with no distinguishable emotions.

You contemplated your next move, the wave in indecision bobbing in your head. One thing you could construe about Ghost was that he was competitive, bloodthirsty, and he didn't back down from a challenge. Why would he? Constantly being called the greatest weapon in the entire Task Force would surely fester to your ego over the years. The only reason you could get the upper hand in the fight was because of his cockiness, you knew that he didn't think of you as anything more than just gum beneath his shoe. The feeling, however, was slowly starting to feel mutual. "Fuck it, I fold." The trio burst into faux exasperation, secretly hoping you would've challenged Ghost for good entertainment. But, if you knew anything from combat, it was to let your opponent make the first move. You were going to study the Task Force's greatest machine and figure out how it ticked.

You turned your cards over, both of your queens on display. Soap gawked at you, pointing to your hand. "Fuckin' hell, did Ghost scare you that bad? The odds were high on that one!" He exclaimed, but you paid him no mind. You watched and waited for Ghost to turn his cards over, and he complied. Your stomach dropped, and you felt a tinge of annoyance build in your chest once you looked at his cards. Laid on the table were a six of hearts, and an eight of clubs. He had nothing. Ghost had absolutely nothing. "You bluffed." You accused, tossing your cards on the stack to be reshuffled. "You folded." He responded nonchalantly, grabbing the deck and mixing in the cards.