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Chapter one. The first round.
Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader X Johnny “Soap” McTavish.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: none.
Summary: Just an ordinary Wednesday, that is until you catch the attention of two ex-military men.
Chapter one. The first round.
The thin metal is cold between your fingers as you narrow your eyes on the dartboard across the bar.
You steady your aim, wrist angling carefully before the dart leaves your hand.
Bullseye.
A grin pulls at your lips as you lift your drink for another sip.
“Think ye’ might be cheatin’ there.”
A deep Scottish accent pulls your attention from the board.
A tall man stands behind you, mohawk messy and streaked with gold under the warm bar light. Bright blue eyes flick to the watered down drink in your hand.
“Let me buy you another, seems it a wee bit weak.”
You shift back on your feet, a matching smile pulling on your lips.
This man smells good, smiles bright. You feel your heart do a little kick in your chest.
It comes out as a chuckle.
“Guess another won’t hurt.”
The Scottish man beams.
His smile toothy and cheeks lined with dimples.
“Good. I’m Johnny by the wei.”
“Y/N.”
You introduce, holding out your free hand.
His takes yours in a warm, firm but not painful shake.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful lass.”
Your smile tugs a little harder.
“Where you sittin’?”
You ask as your hand falls back to your side. Colder now.
“Ov’a here, got a friend yu’ should meet.”
With a thumb pointed back over his shoulder, your gaze follows and it lands on a booth near the back of the bar.
The only person sitting there is a massive man with his arms crossed over his chest.
A black surgical mask covering half of his face, broad shoulders stretching the black fabric of his shirt. Even sitting down, he looks intimidating.
…
Johnny notices your gaze and chuckles.
“Don’t be intimidated, or well maybe do.”
Before you’re able to reply you’re sliding into the booth across from this stranger.
He’s big like you’ve never seen. His shirt thinning over his sculpted form like it might rip if he moves too quickly.
“Be right back with that drink. Simon play nice.”
He shoots the blonde brute across from you a playful glare. He gets no response.
Huh, Simon.
Dark eyes slowly move from the place they were stuck, onto to you.
His arms crossed tight over his chest.
He doesn’t speak.
His mask is strange, part of you wonders if he is sick. Though you don’t ask. The only part of his face you can see are his eyes. The dark dots that peer at you over the thin fabric.
You smile under his gaze.
Your head tilting to the side like a curious feline.
“Why hello there, handsome.”
You smoothly chime, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
Thinking you’ll be brushed off.
Simon makes a low noise in his throat.
Not exactly a grunt.
Definitely not a response.
His shoulders tense as he shifts, looking at anything but you.
Suddenly Johnny returns, your drink being placed down with enough excitement that a bit spills from the side.
“There we go, one drink for the pretty lass.”
Simon looks to Johnny, then his attention focuses somewhere on a spot across the bar.
You smile taking your drink, batting your lashes as you hum.
“Thank you, Johnny.”
He slides in beside you, trapping you to the inside of the booth while Simon sits alone.
“Seems you two are having great time.”
Johnny sarcastically jokes at the silence between you two.
You smile nodding to Simon as you take a slow sip of your drink.
“Seems he likes me enough.”
You tease.
Johnny looks up at Simon.
He shrugs.
The movement almost reflex.
“Eh.”
You laugh, the sound light and airy.
Your shoulders shake as you tip your head back.
It wasn’t that funny.
Yet both men stop talking.
Johnnys attention splits as he glances at Simon, watching the way his arms drop away from his chest, his eyes glued to you.
Johnny smiles softly to himself, nudging you in the arm.
“Careful you might break the poor man.”
Confused but delighted your attention turns to Simon, who again looks away to his untouched glass of beer, his grip tightening around the bottle.
“Maybe I want to.”
You reply, never missing a beat as you wink at the Scott.
Your eyes flick down to the untouched beer collecting condensation near Simon.
“You gonna drink that?”
Johnny answers from the side with something like a laugh, a huff of sorts. Shaking his head side to side.
“Barely touches tha’ stuff.”
“You’re a shy one.”
You comment.
Johnny chuckles beside you.
“Only when he’s nervous.”
He teases with a grin, Simon shoots him a look from across the table, his heavy boot starting an anxious pace under the table.
“M’ not.”
Simon barks but the sound comes out wobbly.
You smile, slowly.
“Sure, I wouldn’t see why you would be. Bet you deal with prettier people all the time.”
You challenge with a raised brow.
Johnny smiles wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“I like yer spirit lass.”
Simon doesn’t respond but you swear his pale cheeks have grown a hint pinker as you chuckle.
The night continues and you stay in the booth talking about small things. Where you’re from, what they do for work.
You find out both Simon and Johnny are ex-military.
“What do you do now?”
You ask, genuinely curious. The two aren’t exactly open books but you’ve learned enough to understand they don’t talk about what they did for a reason.
As Johnny is right about to answer Simon speaks up from the side.
Quiet, but firm.
“Rescue strays.”
Your eyes light up, the idea of these two scary, ex-military men taking care of animals just turns your heart into goo.
“Dogs?”
You quiz, a growing smile on your lips.
“Mostly.”
Simon answers.
They learn you frequent this bar every Wednesday.
Whether it be a game of pool, darts or just for a drink, you always manage to make one stop at your favorite bar.
You end up laughing at your own joke, later on in the night at something stupid you said.
Johnny laughs with you, leaning into your shoulder absentmindedly.
The tapping from under the table stops, just for a moment.
You look up at Simon, a warm smile on your lips when you hear it.
A single huff of a chuckle.
You see his eyes crinkle above his mask, only for a moment before they return to stoic expression and his restless foot begins tapping once again.
A small score in your book.
Your attention slowly returns to Simon who’s looking at two of you. Fingers tapping on the table like he’d rather be anywhere else.
You lean in.
“Simon?”
You offer again hoping to hear that rumble of a voice that he teased you with.
His eyes slowly travel to yours.
Masked face tilting to the side, waiting for you to continue.
“Why hangout at bars if you don’t drink?”
Johnny watches Simon’s expression shift, his body turning towards you as he responds.
“Johnny likes tha’ place.”
You smile at that finding it endearing. Simon looks away again.
“So?”
You chime as the bar begins to empty and the bartender shines glasses by his lonesome.
The floors sticky with spilled drinks and streets illuminated with night lights.
“I’ll see you two next Wednesday?”
Johnny smiles big, his cheeks warm and pink with his buzz.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world lass.”
You wait for Simon’s response, unsure if you’ll get one.
“Aye.”
One word, quiet, deep— but deliberate.
And that’s enough for you.
Next part: saved contacts. New numbers, new habits, new problems. (Coming soon.)










