bullshitologyst

Damn democracy.

Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader X Johnny “Soap” McTavish

Word count 1.2k

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“Evenin’”

Johnny chimes as you move to the booth tucked into the darker corner of the bar.

You move to sit when, out of the corner your eye, you catch it. Simon shifting his big boots under the table, making room for you.

Quick. Subtle.

Like he was expecting you.

Like he’s already decided where you’ll be sitting.

Something warm settles in your chest at the thought.

“How’ve you been?”

Simon clears his throat before he asks from the side.

The question catches you off guard, not because it’s extremely personal, but because it’s Simon.

You smile at the effort as you settle next to him.

“Good.”

You lean back with a small sigh.

“Better now that Im here.”

For a second Simon just looks at you.

“Good.” He says finally, turning his attention to the table in front of you both.

A pause.

Johnny watches silently, biting back a smile.

There must be something about you that feels so familiar. Johnny has never seen Simon open up so quickly.

“You play darts?”

Simons gruff voice snaps Johnny out of his thoughts. His baby blue eyes track to you, waiting for your response.

You nod.

“Any good?”

Simon crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing above his mask.

You grin, nodding to the dart board across the bar. Never one to say no to a game. Especially with such handsome men.

“Why don’t you come find out?”

…

Simon stands at the dartboard, shoulders straight, feet planted.

“That all you got?”

He asks, not even a hint of amusement in his voice as he nods towards your dart, barely clinging to the edge of the board.

“It was a bad shot!”

You fire back immediately.

Simon makes a sound under his breath, then throws the dart.

“Bullseye.”

A smug little exhale leaves him.

You gawk at the board then turn to him with a scrunched face.

“That was luck.”

He scoffs.

You throw again. This time it lands only a color away from where you were aiming.

Simon shifts beside you, his boots squeaking against the hard wood.

“Guess you can aim.”

If you didn’t know any better, you say he sounds almost impressed.

But.

You definitely suck at darts compared to him.

You should’ve figured that based on the very little you did know about his background.

Still, you two go back and forth until Johnny drags you back to the bar top.

…

Johnny keeps your go to drink ready for you beside his. Even when you’re running late.

Every Wednesday now, you three are playing a game of pool or darts.

Johnny moving closely behind you, adjusting the pool stick in your hand smoothly.

His chest pressed to your back.

So close you can smell the cologne that sticks to his skin, and the warmth of his breath against your neck, making you shiver.

“There you go.. jus’ like tha’”

He coos in your ear as he helps you line up a shot, the pool cue cold in your hands.

Your breath caught up in your chest as he smiles over at you.

You stumble over a thank you, your cheeks heating up.

Johnny chuckles, stepping away to lean over the pool table, winking over at you.

“Anytime, lass.”

…

Simon stands a step to the side, making sly comments about cheating though, it’s literally impossible as you all stand in front of a dart board.

“You’re cheatin’.”

His Manchester accent wraps around the word seductively than should be allowed.

Your lip twitches as you turn to look up at him.

“Oh yeah? How’s that big guy?”

You question taking a step closer to him.

Simon huffs.

“Don’t know, but you are.”

He looks down at you, his eyes narrowed.

You chuckle shaking you head as you turn away to throw another dart at the board.

“Don’t be jealous cus I’m good.”

Simons gaze hasn’t left you, a warmth he doesn’t understand spreading across his chest at your sass.

He scoffs.

You smile.

“Brat.”

…

The bar smells of old wood and liquor, the lights shinning neon light on Johnnys face as he leans on the pool table aiming his shot.

You watch his back arch, bending over, toned inked arms gently wrapped around the thin pool stick.

You have to bite your lip to keep your comments in, nonetheless one slips.

“You look that good all the time?”

Johnny slowly stands back to his full height, winking.

“Only fer you.”

Your skin tingles, you blame it on the alcohol.

Not on Johnnys wink.

And definitely not the way every time you look for Simon he’s already watching you.

Simon takes one massive step, and instantly he’s towering over you.

He leans down, making sure you hear him, his voice a low rumble in his throat.

“Careful.”

You blink.

Leaning back to look up at his dark gaze.

“What?”

“Keep talkin’ like that and he’ll follow you home.”

Then he steps away, moving to the pool table, and leaving you pressing your thighs together.

“Fuck.”

You breathe out, your gaze following Simon to where him and Johnny play their turns.

Johnny’s pink tongue peaks out between his lips as he concentrates on his shot. His sleeves straining against his arms as he moves.

You can’t look away.

Only because you’re curious if it’ll land or not.

It sinks into the corner pocket, he grins, standing back up and ruining what you would consider a lovely view.

Across the table Simon is no better.

One large hand is sprawled out against the green felt, the cue inbeween careful, rough hands.

He bends lower to the cue, his forearm flexes with the movement.

You’d stare for exactly three seconds too long, then your m gaze snaps up to meet two dark eyes already starting back at you.

You turn to look at anything, absolutely anything else.

Your cheeks burning with something like embarrassment as you hear a low chuckle then the sinking of another ball.

“Your turn.”

You jump a little bit, turning to grab your pool cue with a bit more force than necessary.

“Easy there.”

Simon almost hums, his voice getting softer— amused.

“I’m fine.”

You quip.

“Didn’t say you weren’t.”

Under his mask a smug curve tugs on his lips.

…

The three of you expand outside of the bar soon after.

It was Johnnys idea, really.

“Let’s meet somewhere else yeah? Wanna try out a new place?”

He shrugs, like he hasn’t been planning how to say this in his head for days now.

Simon doesn’t respond, his eyes on yours watching your expression.

You grin ear to ear, waiting for a chance to invite them to your favorite place.

“Let’s go to an arcade!”

Simon stiffens.

Johnny beams his eyes lighting up.

“Oi! We’re goin’!”

Simon sighs shaking his head.

“We’re not.”

“We are.”

“Absolutely not, Scott.”

Johnny turns and points at you.

“Arcade.”

He declares.

A mischievous grin crosses your lips as you mirror his stance pointing back at him.

Holding back a laugh as you echo.

“Arcade.”

Simon looks between the two of you for a long time, shaking his head.

Muttering.

Oh godssss. The way he handles her.

TENOCH HUERTA