We'll Be Fine - (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!Reader)

GIFT

Summary: Ghost gets jealous and reaches out to you in an unexpected way, people often care more than they would like to admit.

Your brother and Soap sit on the sofa like a pair of giddy schoolboys, eyeing their new toys. A near-constant inconceivable stream of what you have to assume are thanks spewing from them both. Neither of them knows how to stop talking sometimes...

The two of them have been bickering endlessly over your game console while they were at your flat, it was exhausting to witness. It's gotten to be unbearable, so you took it upon yourself to put an end to it. Building them each a handheld console out of salvaged parts, and 'upgraded' them. This way they can play video games together and No More Fighting, Problem SOLVED!

Ghost eyes them begrudgingly from his seated position on the adjacent armchair. Feeling secondhand embarrassment, these were trained soldiers, grown-ass men, he came here with them of his free will, why were they acting like muppets..?

Despite this an odd weight sits heavy in his gut, you gave them gifts. Johnny's has the Scottish flag on it for Christ sake, you made it for him. Ghost wants a gift... Mentally paging through all the times he made a stink about them playing their 'stupid games'. He shouldn't care about this one bit, but it bothers him nonetheless.

Lounging on your couch you sit at the game's main menu, character standing idly by themself. Meanwhile, completely distracted by something on your phone.

It's been nice being able to play with people who cooperate for the most part, your brother and Soap are much better than most of the random people you play with... Dropping in solo is always an option, though it gets very tiresome taking out teams by yourself.

You glance up a moment only to realize you are no longer alone, your stomach clenches. Soap's character is standing next to yours in the menu, a marker already above his head indicating he is ready.

"How long has he been standing there?!" You grimace, filling with dread for a moment at the thought of leaving him waiting. Slowly letting out a deep breath to expel some of your building anxiety. You ready yourself up and the two of you are quickly loaded into a match.

Things start off a bit rocky, with multiple enemy teams landing near you. Soap seems a bit off his game, and does down as you get ambushed by a third team. Despite struggling with your lackluster gear you pull it together, reviving him behind some cover before finishing off the assailants.

The rest of the game goes smoothly, the pair of you picking off a couple of teams as you circle the map. Skirting the edge of the soon-to-be shrinking ring of death that draws you closer together, until it's just you and the last squad.

You make quick work of the first enemy with your trusty P90 at close range. Turning around to catch sight of their partner in the distance, they get off a lucky shot as you're ducking into cover. A high-velocity sniper round rings through the air and plows straight through your temple, leaving you downed instantly.

Soap peaks from behind his cover and lobs a grenade in the sniper's general direction, a distraction?

He makes a break for your position and goes for the revive, you have cover and the sniper is too far off to get there before he is finished pulling your injured body from the ground. Gone in an instant, sprinting forward toward the terrified sniper's obvious cover. He might have bludgeoned them to death with his fist, you're too busy sitting there stunned to notice.

'YOU ARE THE CHAMPION' the bold white script illuminating your dim apartment. You set the controller down on the couch beside you, the gears in your head turning.

You've played with Soap and your brother long enough to know their play styles. The two think it's funny watching your 'downed idiot ass' crawling around on the ground while they finish off enemies, thanks to your brother's bad influence. It was all in good fun, in the end you knew this. Somehow this is less toxic than a lot of the behavior you witness from strangers...

Soap would have just gone for the final kill on his own, he knows it's just a game. Who the fuck are you playing with right now?!

A week later your brother hands Ghost a package in passing, mumbling that it's a gift from the 'elder'. Wordlessly returning to his quarters, somewhere private as he's unsure of its contents.

Heading over to the desk at the far end of the small room, he takes a seat in the chair. Peeling back the tape enclosing one side of a black paper bag and slides the rigid contents out onto the surface. Blinking a few times incredulously at the sight before him. It's a handheld similar to the ones you'd built for your brother and Soap.

It's a gift, 'she made me a gift,' he thinks to himself, pulse picking up steadily. Realizing you must have figured out he had borrowed Soaps to play with you... And here he was thinking he was so slick for the last week.

Hunching over in his chair to get a better look at your handiwork. Predominantly matte black, simple but the paint has this pleasant toothy texture to it. He turns it over in his hands and freezes upon catching a glimpse of the back.

The top portion of a skull depicted in stark white, streaks dragged down from the teeth and fading just before reaching the edge of the casing.

'Like my mask,' he ponders, carefully placing it on the desk and just staring at it for a long moment. Feeling that odd weight in his gut again, having mistaken it for mere jealousy but this was something different.

He's definitely caught feelings...