Heeeeyyy, never requested anything but i think i'll give it a shot because i really like the way you write! You're really talented :]
Mayhaps a simon "ghost" riley x male reader? Reader is very provocative and loves getting reactions out of people, no matter if they are amused chuckles or annoyed groans. BUT Ghost is a brick wall and reader sees it as a challenge? Im sure your beautidul mind will come up with something interesting!
May i have the "馃" as my anon emoji? (If its not taken of course!)
Thanksss, have an amazing day/night!
you can whistle for it
simon 'ghost' riley x male! reader
warnings: idk how spotting works im just basing it off of that one american sniper scene kinda, suggestive innuendos, stupid jokes, not proofread,
notes: i love specific anons sm :3 yall r so cute :3 ofc u can have 馃 :3 lysm :3
fem dni.
"Y'know, Lieutenant, I've been thinking-"
"I doubt that."
"-You, me, alone under the stars... It's pretty romantic, don't'cha think?"
"No."
A heavy sigh pushes past [Name]'s lips, hia breath blooming into a faint mist of white, fading into the deep blues of the sky hanging high above them.
The snow crunches bellow his elbows with every breath, laying thick over the plantlife. Frost coated the leaves that shrouded the pair, snowfall left the branches bending under the weight, there wasn't even a peep from the local fauna.
And oh god, what he wouldn't give to be warm like them, huddled in a burrow, coat all he'd need to keep warm. Instead, he was left in thick, stiff winter gear, the cruel wind biting at the tip of his nose in spite of the fleece-lined gaiter.
Hell, he was surprised his rifle wasn't crusted in ice.
He wasn't surprised, however, to deduce that the poor weather seemed to reflect on his lieutenant's mood, as if being stuck on overwatch for hours on end wasn't bad enough.
[Name] laid with his cheek resting on the stock of his gun, index finger lazily tapping against the trigger gaurd to some unrecognized rhythm.
And Ghost was right beside him, nearly hyper focused on spotted. Each had their eyes trained on their respective scopes, and both were miserable.
Aching backs, necks swiftly growing sore, eye's dry, lips cracking, and faces all kn all feeling like they'd be ready to freeze off any moment now. And that's not even mentioning that this was the fourth time Ghost had essentially requested [Name] shut his mouth in the past thirty minutes they'd been in the field, which was frustrating enough for both of them.
And excuse him for not wanting to waste his night sulking in silence, but making the best out of a less than steller situation didn't seem to be something Ghost was capable of.
It was charming, in its own annoying little way-- the relentless chatter and constant quips and jokes, even if they sometimes boarded on ridiculously unprofessional. Whether it be an annoyed groan, a flustered chuckle, or a reluctant smile masked with a roll of their eyes, his little antics never failed to coax out some reaction.
Almost never.
And in all honesty, this self inflicted, fruitless journey to get so much as a scoff out of Ghost wasn't even the point anymore. Sure, to be met with anything other than stubborn apathy would be a breath of fresh air, not to mention satisfying after so long of any and all jokes, swipes, and thinly veiled innuendo being shut down with little remorse would be a delight. But now? [Name] just wanted something to distract himself from the cold that clung to his skin.
So, as always, to Ghost's dismay, he gives it another go.
Dispite himself, another sigh is huffed out. He glances over to Ghost, the sight of something other than his reticle feeling foreign.
"So..." He starts, situating his sights back to his scope. "You got a girlfriend or anything?"
He found the idea a little funny. The image of this big, stoic man holding hands or otherwise being sweet on some pretty little lady.
There's a stretch of silence, expectantly so, and [Name]'s already racking his brain for something-- anything, to say next.
"No."
The low rumble of Ghost's voice takes him by surprise, but it'd be foolish to dwell on it long. An answer's an answer.
"Figured," [Name] mutters out, adjusting the grip on his gun, rolling out shoulders in an attempt to ease the discomfort that's begun to festerbetweenhia shoulder blades. "Does that mean you're up for grabs then?"
Only the whistle of wind responds this time.
"I'll take that as a maybe." He might as well have been aimlessly talking to himself. Hell, that would've been more entertaining than this.
"Y'know, I'm sure deep down you do think I'm funny." Told you; relentless. Still, despite the smile hidden behind his mask and the slightly forced crinkle in his eye, [Name] couldn't quite hide the irritation growing thick in his own throat.
"I think you're a distraction," Ghost is swift to correct, his balaclava doing little to hide the annoyance in his tone. "A liability if you're not careful, so do shut up."
[Name] can't help but shake his head, a sharp huff pulling from his throat. Sure Ghost was his superior, and by no means were they supposed to be all buddy-buddy with one another. But jesus fucking christ, would it hurt to crack smile. Hell, even Price offers a pitty laugh on the rare occasion.
"It wouldn't kill you to have some damn fun one in a while." The words leave his mouth before his can think better of it, tounge sharp.
"It might," Ghost is quick to retort with just as much bite. For the first time since they settled down, his eyes leave the spotter, sending a well received warning glare [Name]'s way. "Give it a rest, yeah?"
Be it the weather, the job, a wave of bravery, or simply just [Name]'s long overdue annoyance reaching its peak, he, in fact, does not give it a rest.
"It's like you're scared of saying something interesting for once."
"Maybe I'll let you chew on some lead to shut you up. That interesting enough?"
"Christ."
Every stretch on silence is near unbearable. It feels like even the wind still in these moments. [Name] would prefer a constant flood of berating and hardly enjoyable banter from Ghost far more than this.
The tension of the moment breifly lingers before it disapates just as swiftly as it had arrived, the tension in [Name]'s chest easing. He lets out a soft breath, his grip adjusts, his elbows sink furth into the snow.
"Well-" Ghost interjects with gruff sigh, "-Soap told me you like jokes."
"Did he, now?"
"Where do generals keep their armies?"
"Up their sleevies."
"God dammit, Ghost."
[Name] purses his lips, effectively splitting it down the center, the heat from the sting made all the worse by the every present chill. He had more pressing matters to worry about. "Why do snipers aim with one eye closed?"
"Sergeant."
"Humor me-- just this once, and I swear I'll shut up for the rest of the night." An obvious lie. However, Ghost doesn't try to correct it. "...Why do snipers aim with one eye closed?"
"...Why?"
"If they closed both, they wouldn't be able to see."
Yet another discontent sigh leaves Ghost's mouth. But, [Name] could've sworn he almost heard a smile forcing its way onto Ghost's face as he spoke. "Now are you done?"
[Name]s response isn't instantaneous. His head lifts from the small of the stock, gaze leaving the scope and finding Ghost beside him.
Ghost was still, near statuesque if it weren't for the soft puffs of breath that seeped through the thick knit of his mask. [Name] knew Ghost liked being behind the trigger more than anything, but he was sure Ghost's ego swelled, even if just a tad, over being the one chosen to spot instead.
Only when Ghost's eyes meet [Name]'s does he retreat back to his scope. Still, he let's his stiff face pull into a grin. "Say whatever you want, but I think I am starting to get to you, Lieutenant."
"Oh, piss off." This time, he hears Ghost shift around in place, a tired groan accompaning the shifting of snow beneath him. "Just quiet down before I show you how to put that mouth of yours to good use for once."
"Awe, c'mon now, you-- huh?"
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I am thinking about Osha.
I don't think we've really gotten to know her on screen yet, and I'm looking forward to the rest of her story. But we've gotten plenty of hints to her character, enough to start to paint a picture.
Osha loves her sister. They're siblings, and they fight; Mae wants them to be the same, twins forever, and Osha wants to do her own thing, be different. But they were raised together, know each other too well for anything but love or hate to grow. Or both.
And Osha loves her sister.
But then her sister was gone. Gone in a fire, that killed their entire family; gone after threatening to kill Osha, after their last, perhaps worst, (perhaps not), fight.
And Osha was brought to become a Jedi.
She'd wanted to be a Jedi. That's what their fight had been about; that's what drove Mae to start the fire, led to their family's deaths. And Osha was told it was Mae's fault, and blamed her: if only Mae hadn't started that fire. If only Mae hadn't been so angry, so awful. If only Osha hadn't driven her to it. If only she'd just agreed to stay.
Osha blames Mae, because otherwise, who else would she blame but herself?
Osha loves Mae, and hates her, and blames her. And then she comes to the Jedi.
The Jedi don't practice hate. They don't cling to love. They feel it, cherish it, and let it go, let it pass through them. They don't let it hound their thoughts, guide their actions, lest their emotions lead them astray.
And Osha wanted so much to be a Jedi.
But to do that, she had to let go of her hate. Let go of the blame. Let go of her last ties to Mae and her family, even as they curdle and fester.
Let go of her attachments.
No wonder she left the Jedi. No wonder she struggles so hard, aims for Mae when the Master is right there, sticks around when he offers her something else. She's been clinging to her hate of Mae for so long, her hate that's become indistinguishable from her love, so she doesn't have to look at herself. Look at what happened. Let her family go.
I don't think Osha is to blame for her family's death. I doubt Mae is, either; even if she started the fire, she didn't intend for what happened next. I don't think we have the full story.
But I don't think Osha does either. Or Mae. Or, possible, even the Jedi.
They're all still trapped there, in the fire on Brendok, one way or another. Mae with her revenge, the Jedi with their shame, Osha with her guilt, and fear, and anger.
None of them have been able to let go.
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