Gloss and Salt | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

4

A new mission comes along and a familiar face comes back. Ghost learns what taste really means to him.

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Ghost fucking loves Bourbon. Whether it's Kentucky Straight or Tennessee, the feeling of warmth that blooms in his stomach after the first sip and the taste of Oak that floods his senses is something that he never gets tired of. Before an assignment, it lets his body know that he's going to replace the rich taste with one of death on his tongue again. After he gets back from an assignment, it washes everything down until he doesn't feel the weight of his body armor or the cold metal of his rifle seeping through his gloves anymore. Johnny sometimes pushes him to have Scotch again but it's not the same. It never will be.

His finger thumbs the rim of his glass as the realization settles that it's the same feeling that gnawed at his bones as he had another woman bent over a desk before he came out here. Her moans sounded... wrong. Her skin felt foreign. Even though he's been with her before, they always got together when he awaited instruction on that particular base. If it hadn't been for the pure amount of pent up sexual frustration and the images of her flashing through his mind, he's sure he wouldn't have even gotten it up, much less actually finish. Not the same, never will be. It makes him almost uneasy.

His eyes are drawn to the TV in the corner of the dimly lit bar showing another news report. The image of the dead general in Venezuela is ingrained into his mind so far by this point, he could pick the bastard out of a crowd with his eyes closed. The circus has been going on for about a week now, something about nuclear missiles pointed at the States that were uncovered after the general was found dead in his office after putting his own gun into his mouth. The president is shown, talking to his people in a grand speech, about averting a crisis caused by a splintered faction of his own military that does not represent what his country stands for. The footage is followed by another speech, this time from the White House. He turns away at this point, it's nothing he hasn't seen a thousand times by now.

He wonders where she is right now. What she's doing. How she's doing.

He's put the worrying into the compartment of having served with her. He cares for the people on his team, that's all it is. Even though she's been absent for two months now, the thought of her still lingers.

The last he had seen of her was when they arrived back on base and stepped out of the back of the Osprey. It was dark and the wet tarmac glimmered with the lights around them. The familiar soundscape of vehicles on and off loading materials and people all the same alongside the cold and wet air made for a mixture of the faintest feeling of safety for him. She'd stolen glances from him over the screen of her laptop she was writing a report on for the entire flight. Each one of them made another image from the night before cross through his mind. Her wide eyes, her soft thighs glimmering with arousal, the feeling of her hands around him. His fingers had curled around the barrel of his rifle at the sight of her tongue peeking out as she concentrated.
Her eyes fixing on a point on the floor and the stillness in her fingers had made sense when Ghost realized her cochlear implant was receiving something as he saw the second car alongside the one that was there to pick them up. Sleek and clean it stood there, missing any of the roughness or other signs that it belonged on the base. Her back had straightened involuntarily, a familiar look in her eyes as the door opened and a suited man climbed out.

She managed a passing wave and a short 'it's been fun boys, good luck!' at them as she walked around to the passenger side and got in. Ghost still remembers the little shiny droplets of rain in her hair disappearing behind the roof of the car before she drove off. And then she just disappeared. Johnny, who'd managed to get her to exchange private numbers with him after their first gig, had texted her a couple times. Nothing. Even Laswell was tight lipped about her. Ghost tells himself to let it go. He's usually very adept at shutting shit out. Get on with his way, albeit a little irked he never got to fuck her. Another face alongside the 141 that will fade soon