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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 1 month

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How to Plant Snapdragons (pt. 9)

Task Force 141 + König + Keegan x Female Criminal!Reader (except Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You go to Las Almas with Soap and Ghost and meet Colonel Alejandro and Sergeant Rodolfo

You are currently reading Chapter 9! Here is Chapter 8 and the Masterlist!

Chapter 9: How to Be Afraid of Ghost

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Violence NOTE: WAZZUP BITCHES, IM BACK I am very sorry for not updating for 4-5(?) months. I didn't mean to go on a hiatus without any announcements. Things had been quite busy for me lately and I focused on some things (FUCK COLLEGE BUT I PASSED ALL MY CLASSES ANYWAY), and also the reason why I suddenly "went dark" is because of the fucking MW3 Campaign. Yeah, shit destroyed me. WORD COUNT: 2.7k

You had been to Mexico once. You went to good places it held, but you also walked on the mud it hid in the dark. After all, there could never be a perfect country. Even if someone said that their glorious purpose was for the better good of their nation—most of the time, they were merely heroes in their own stories and villains in the others’. Well, Mexico had good food. You could give them that, at least. But this place, Las Almas, would it have good stuff as well?

You shook off your vest and Ghost’s jacket as the pilot alerted you of the time of the touchdown and slipped into your jacket, fitted to your frame. As much as you wanted to keep wearing the lieutenant’s clothes, you couldn’t risk getting harmed because of loose clothing and failing this stupid mission.

You turned to Ghost as you folded his jacket neatly. “Can I keep this?” you asked and smiled.

He stared at you for a good second, pools of honey you couldn’t read before he looked away. “Suit yourself.”

Your grin widened, and you stashed the jacket into your bag. You hummed as you put on your vest, tightening it to your liking. You patted your pockets, checking each of them, until you felt Ghost’s mask in one, fingers lingering on the soft fabric, and sighed. You put your hands down on your lap and leaned against the cold steel, waiting for the upcoming descent, which didn’t take long.

The plane opened up, and a busy facility greeted your sight. Vehicles drove in and out of the area, and soldiers went back and forth from one place to another. But even when they were bustling, you could feel their gazes land on you—suspicious and judging, whispering among themselves, voices drowned out by the loud exhausts of the transports.

It was something you wished you could get used to. At the same time, you didn’t want to, when eyes held more than they seemed.

You followed Soap and Ghost down the plane, walking towards a couple of men who stepped forward. One of them had his hands clasped behind him, while the other simply stood by his side. Both were, well, good-looking and buffed (which was normal for military men), but eh, not really your type.

They would make pretty models though.

Also, good human shields, if ever.

Johnny, being the everlasting sunshine he was, greeted them first, extending a hand to the man named Alejandro, and engaged in a conversation with him as though they had been long good friends. Then, the sergeants forced the poor lieutenant to join in, who sounded ready to strangle the scot.

Then, your eyes found the gaze of the man next to the Mexican captain on the monitor on your ankle. A frown spread on his face and worsened the moment he saw the smirk that crept up your lips, his eyes darting between you and the half of the 141.

The look of a man confused never failed to be an entertainment. And what was more the obvious expression that said, what the fuck is a criminal doing here? Or something in Spanish.

“And who is she?” Alejandro questioned, finally turning his eyes on you—or rather, down to your ankle, as if the monitor would be the one to answer him.

“She’s sent by General Shepherd,” Ghost immediately replied, batting an eye at you. “She may be a criminal, but she proved excellent in various ways that could be useful to us.”

Alejandro, albeit hesitantly, nodded and extended a hand to you. “Nice to meet you, miss.”

You took his hand, giving it a quick shake. “I’m at your service, sir. And worry not about me going against orders, I pretty much like my head attached to my neck.”

He put a forced smile on his face, one you’d seen way too many times on people. “We’ll see about that.” He motioned at the man beside him. “This is Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra, my second-in-command.”

The said man, Rodolfo, extended his hand first to Soap, who the fellow Sergeant enthusiastically shook. Then, he batted an eye at Ghost, seemingly hesitant to approach him, but still decided to. Ghost, however, merely stared at his hand, and Rodolfo backed away, clearing his throat.

Soap stepped forward. “Ah, the Lt’s not much of a talker.”

Rodolfo nodded. “I understand.” He turned your way and reached out his hand, which you lightly shook, quickly withdrawing right after. He moved back to Alejandro’s side, who nodded his head towards a direction.

“Follow me, we’ll talk along the way.” Alejandro turned and began to walk, passing by and nodding at soldiers who saluted at him. By the end of the way—or seemingly at both an entrance and exit, several jeeps were parked, and a few soldiers stood by the vehicles. With a wave of hand from Alejandro, the men slipped inside the vehicles, and Rodolfo was the first to get in the first jeep on the line.

“I’d like to sit beside the window—” you attempted to request, but Ghost was quick to shut you off.

“No,” he said as Soap rounded the car, stepping in by the other side.

“But—”

“No.”

“C’mon, lassie, don’t you want to sit between us?” Soap questioned, a smile played on his lips.

You slipped inside with a grumble, inching close to the sergeant, before elbowing him. He grunted, but you knew it wouldn’t do much damage to him with all his muscles. At the same time, doors shut as both Alejandro and Simon got inside.

“Tengo miedo de los fantasmas,” Rodolfo mumbled, slightly turning his head to face his colonel.

(I’m afraid of ghosts.)

Your eyes whipped forward, brows slightly raising at his words, which you perfectly understood. You glanced at Ghost, but he merely stared ahead. At the back of your mind, you wanted to snitch on the new guy just so some drama could happen between them, but at the same time, drama could lead to suspicion between these men.

This was why knowing some languages if you travel abroad was great. But it should be fine to keep quiet for now. What the sergeant said wasn’t suspicious, but if they did anything that could bring harm to Ghost and Soap, then . . .

On the other hand, Alejandro chuckled at the comment of his sergeant and looked back at the three of you. “You know Spanish?”

The Lieutenant remained silent, and you did the same, turning your head to the side to look out of the window, whilst Soap shook his head, and answered, “No.”

Alejandro drew a smirk on his face and turned his attention back ahead. “Oh, you will.”

Rodolfo started the car and drove out of the base.

“See,” you pointed at the window, begrudgingly looking at Simon, who stared indifferently at you. “This is why I want to be next to the window.”

The car passed by two-story buildings, seemingly houses or apartments, painted in pastel colors. People were walking and talking on the street, some vendors and their stands offering their goods, and some other vehicles were parked on the way. It wasn’t much, not even beautiful, but still you��d like to see everything you could see.

“Have you taken a liking to Las Almas?” Alejandro questioned, glancing back at you.

You put your hand down and turned your head on his way. “To be frank, it’s not a liking, sir, rather, it’s curiosity. I’m not from here or anything similar to this place, so I’d like to see how things work here.”

His head inclined a bit to the side, appearing to be thinking of his words. “You’ll be . . . disappointed.”

You smiled. “I’ll be the one to judge that.” Just as you finished your sentence, a truck with men riding on the back, guns in hand passed by. You couldn’t help but whistle at their ridiculous sight, and put your hand on top of Soap’s before he could grab his gun.

He frowned at you. “What are ya—”

“Calm down, sir,” you cut him off, pulling your hand away. “Seeing as no one on the street is reacting about it, pretty sure that’s normal here.”

“You’re right,” Alejandro spoke in a serious voice, once again looking back at you. “Guns are in the jurisdiction of the police.”

“Looks like Las Almas has a huge problem,” you commented and crossed your arms. “Much more than what I’ve heard.”

Alejandro shifted his eyes to you. “You seem to know something about Las Almas.”

With his words, Soap and Ghost also settled their eyes on you, as if they were ready to do everything to get answers out of your mouth. “I’ve been to Mexico, and during my stay, I heard of things about Las Almas. Not exactly the good ones as you probably expected, but I didn’t know things around here would be this bad.”

“When did you come to Mexico?”

“Over a couple of years ago, sir.”

“I see.” He turned back ahead. “Well, things weren’t that bad back then.”

“I suppose those who tried to uphold the laws and resist corruption met their end as the time passed?”

“You’re right.”

You hummed. “Well, without powerful backing to protect them, I doubt they’ll last much in a society like this.”

“And ya also seemed to know things about politics and stuff,” Soap claimed, slightly shifting on his seat.

You met his blue eyes with a grin. “I had met quite a few politicians in my life. Assassinated an Austrian before, and the one who hired me snitched on me. That’s why I ended up on Shepherd’s shackles.”

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How much of that is true?”

You laughed loudly, although you already knew what would be his reaction. “Take a guess,” you told him challengingly.

“The last sentence,” Ghost joined in, his voice monotone.

You snorted. “Except that.” Then, you gasped, throwing yourself to the window at Soap’s side, making him curse out something you couldn’t fucking understand in whatever Scottish was that. “Look, look, Lt!” You motioned your hand on Ghost to look at the ridiculous sight of someone in a skull balaclava giving balloons to kids.

“What the hell?” Soap’s bright eyes also followed the scene.

You whipped around and smiled at Ghost, who simply stared at you. “If you ever want to quit the military, you can retire with me and live together.”

“How about living in Las Almas since Ghost might fit well in here?” Rodolfo suggested in a soft voice. Alejandro hit him on the side, whispering something, and from the corner of your eyes, you saw Ghost slowly turning to look at him through the rear mirror.

You tilted your head. “But Las Almas has a serious problem when it comes to crimes, so I don’t think it is very much suitable to live in unless you want to be a crime lord or still in the military. And I’m the type of person who likes traveling around. If I were to settle for sometime somewhere else, it would be where I would have already spent some time on, like London, Berlin, or California and—”

“It’s just a joke, please. Don’t take it too seriously,” Rodolfo mumbled, sounding like he wanted to bury himself on the ground at the moment and never appear again.

On the way to the destination, Alejandro had talked more about the way of Las Almas, and finally, what you and the 141 came here for, El Sin Nombre, the leader of the Mexican Cartel who was protecting Hassan. Quite a reputation that person had as Alejandro said they had eyes and ears everywhere.

Having eyes and ears everywhere was also something the one who raised you did. Even if your father was in prison at the moment, you knew he was still pulling strings. A mastermind out of everyone’s league, until he decided to invest in you. Guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, now that you were technically imprisoned as well.

You pulled out your balaclava and huffed, putting it on swiftly. You jumped out of the jeep right after Simon and you heard Alejandro spit out his commands in a low, serious voice. You rounded up with the soldiers before a gate and under the Colonel’s command, the group barged in. You frowned as you had seen no man in sight, seemingly the civilians had run away—or were mostly likely driven out by the Cartel.

Alejandro waved his hand to follow him up another gate, which this time, Ghost opened, and gunshots echoed in the air.

“Showtime,” you said under your breath, aiming your assault rifle and blasting a hole through a man’s head, vibrant red painting the dull walls around. You rounded a corner, cautiously looking out for an enemy. You spotted a couple of them, but before you could take them down, they had already fallen on the ground. Your head whipped at Soap and Ghost’s direction. “Showoffs,” you grumbled.

“Said the one who wanted to take two men down at the same time,” Soap remarked, giving you a look, and you heard Ghost huff.

You clicked your tongue and swiftly entered a house, but quickly moved back out as you saw not a soul in sight. Your frown worsened at the unusual lack of men to hold the group back. In these cases, either it would be a trap or they had escaped already.

You glanced over your shoulders. 141, some of Alejandro’s men and the Colonel himself were on sight. The walls obscured your view of the place, there were so many corners where men could be hiding themselves or something else, and such things as Cartels wouldn’t hesitate to destroy a run-down hide-out like this for their good.

Soap shot a man from the roof and Alejandro positioned himself in front of a door, motioning at us. “Secure the house, and we go for Hassan.”

Several voices echoed from inside the place, cursing and hushing one another.

“Take the door,” Alejandro commanded. Soap stepped forward, but you grabbed him, making him look at you.

Before he could utter a word, you kicked the door open, slid on the floor towards a corner, and struck a man awaiting in the hallway. You got up immediately, raised a hand so they wouldn’t follow you, and picked up a baby’s bottle on the ground, throwing it to a room through a slightly opened door. Shots were fired blindly right after and you countered it with a couple of bullets, and it stopped. You pushed the blasted door open and found a man lying on the floor, and the baby’s bottle rolling towards your foot.

“Room clear,” you announced, staring down at the bottle for a second, before moving to the next room. They followed you in and you braced yourself for another onslaught, but this time, Soap was the one who barged in, quickly shooting down the men inside without batting an eye.

“Room clear,” he said and put his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

You looked up at him and raised a brow that he wouldn’t see.

Ghost sauntered in the room. “No sign of Hassan.”

Alejandro sighed. “They already moved him.”

You turned your attention to him. “They move fast, hm?”

He looked at you, letting Ghost and Soap rummage the desk across the room instead. “They do. Much more than I expected.”

“So they already know that we’re coming here,” you remarked.

“Highly possible. The Cartel has eyes everywhere.”

You narrowed your eyes and echoed, “Everywhere?”

He nodded to affirm it. “Everywhere.”

“You mean even among your men?”

He paused, staring at you for a good second. “No, I trust my men.”

“A weed is a weed, sir, no matter how good it looks in your garden,” you said in a monotonous voice, picking up a pencil from the ground. “Sooner or later, they’ll bring harm to your plants. And even the plants you put in your garden can bring harm to you if you don’t know what they are.”

Ghost and Soap shot an eye on you, before exchanging looks with each other.

He eyed you cautiously and his serious voice lowered. “What are you implying?”

You remained silent and so did he, until Rodolfo’s voice echoed in your headsets. “The army is rolling in!”

You can also read the series on AO3!

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(PLEASE DON'T KILL ME FOR NOT UPDATING (and I hope you guys still like to bother to read this fic?)

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cowyolks · 1 year

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FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Chapter Seven. I See You

Prev. Chapter Six Masterlist

Pairing: God! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Prompt: A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.

A/n: Sorry this took eons to write. This chapter is longer than my others because I felt bad lol. Please enjoy!

It had been nearly a week since Simon had left in an angry flap of wings. At least you thought it was a week—time was hard to tell in the Underworld.

You spent your days in the large library of the palace, drinking in words as if they would sweep you away from your current situation. If you read the text with enough concentration you could pretend that you weren’t in danger, let alone with such beings of high power.

In this week, it had given you a lot of time to think. To reflect that you were just shaken, and Simon had been the one to protect you against your mother, Shepherd, and any other threat you’ve encountered. It wouldn’t make sense for him to kill you, specifically since he had been so passionate in proclaiming you as his promised.

You thought, and you thought hard.

Maybe being his wife would result in safety, in undying gratitude that he’s shown you already. Perhaps, loving a God could make you feel immortal.

A page flipping startled your thinking, making you pull your eyes away from the passage you were blankly staring at.

Keegan had been your role protector in the last few days, only changing shifts with the furies when you bathed and first thing in the morning when he had conferences.

While his black robes and sharp appearance stood out like a sore thumb in the massive library, he made it clear he was a man of literature. He’s introduced you to the book you were skimming upon now.

“You’re thinking awfully hard to just be reading.” His deep voice was very similar to Simon’s, but unlike your betrothed, Keegan’s voice teased and slithered playfully.

Like a friend you’ve known of centuries.

“I’m worried about Simon. Has he contacted you, lately?” You chewed your lip, bookmarking your page and setting it in your lap. You felt ashamed for sitting idly and reading while Simon was cleaning up your own mess. With the artificial sun dimming into oranges and pinks you knew it would be another day without him.

“No, but don’t worry, flos. Simon can take care of himself.” Keegan spoke in blunt honesty, something you appreciated, but didn’t stop your stomach from twisting.

You glanced down to your ankle, no longer hidden by your long dress. Instead you wore a summer dress of lilac, the material smooth against your skin. The mark had healed slightly, only red blemishes remained, instead of the painful burnt char that was there before.

“Hey…” Keegan spoke up, nudging your shoulder slightly, “all this worrying is only going to give you grief, come let’s take a walk before it gets too dark.”

The lethal man stood, stretching on his heels and flexing his spine, almost similar to a large predatory cat. His white eyes turned to you, upon noticing that you haven’t moved an inch, your eyebrows still furrowed together.

“Up… I’ve got something that will lift your spirits.” Keegan commanded, offering you his hand, calloused from holding his scythe.

You took it, surprised to find the flesh warm and comforting. He hauled you up, releasing you before nodding his head to the doors that led outside.

You followed close by, something Keegan insisted upon so he could watch your every move. In a way you were relieved to have such protection from the demon, but annoyance tickled your mind since you enjoyed solitude on occasion. That wasn’t an option now.

A solid thwack to your back made you stumble slightly, your eyes going wide as you nearly fell upon the stone path. Keegan’s deep chuckle mocked you as he flapped his wings playfully. You narrowed your eyes, a small smile gracing your lips at his amused expression.

“That hurt, you oversized chicken.” You let the insult slip your tongue with a teasing lit, though it didn’t halt Keegan’s gloating nature.

“Chicken… No one has ever called Death a chicken.” He teased, his smile broke open, revealing a set of sharp canines. “Wipe that grin off your face, mighty one.” You found yourself quipping again, truly thankful to Thanatos for halting your fears and doubts. It was comforting to know you’ve made a friend, regardless of him being the literal vessel of Death.

“I wanted to show you a place of peace. It’s Simon’s favorite spot to be when he isn’t working.” Keegan crossed his arms behind his back, retracting his wings as he marched like a dutiful soldier.

He led you to an area of seclusion, hidden by waves of ivy and vines. With large hands he pushed the plants back, gesturing for you to step through the cavern and into a very familiar garden.

The garden from your nightmare.

Your steps halted, gaze falling upon the stone path that lead to your own demise. Keegan took notice, his palm coming to rest upon your shoulder in comfort.

You attempted to anchor yourself to him, forcing your eyes away from the sight from your potential death. Yet, the God seemed to read you enough for a knowing look to creep on his face. “Whatever you dreamt of, it will not happen.” He spoke so firmly you immediately felt the heavy weight fall from your shoulders.

“It just felt so real. I died over there.” You pointed, Keegan followed your gaze before pushing you forward. “I know when all deaths will happen, flos. The demon was tricking you.”

This made you uneasy, but you began to creep forward to the path anyways. “So you know when and how I’ll die?” You questioned, taking in the truly magnificent details of the garden.

His lips quirked up, his youthful appearance did little to hide his actual age. You supposed death was as old as time itself, because even the stars died before mortals walked the earth.

“Yes, I suppose I know how everyone will die, but tis bad luck to tell.”

You dropped the subject, feeling as if you already had enough bad luck for the century. With a shake of your head, you began to walk the path, knowing that Keegan would be there to protect you. Maybe, if you faced your fear, you could finally get rid of the cloud of doubt forming. It was only two weeks until the effects of the pomegranate wore off. Two weeks you had to decide if you would marry a God.

The path broke off into a split, the union breaking to give way to a simply gorgeous pond of the clearest waters you’ve ever seen. It was full of life, tadpoles swam in little circles, among with an occasional swan. Frogs bobbed above the surface, and koi fish gently preened the green vegetation on the bottom.

It was simply beautiful, and it made you feel more relaxed than you’ve felt in a long time.

“I gave this to Hades after word was told of a union between him and his betrothed.” A voice said from behind you, making you yelp and jump back near Keegan.

Keegan gripped his scythe tight, but made no effort to use his weapon.

Your eyes found purchase of a woman, her hair like spun gold and face as beautiful as it was dangerous. She was dressed in white, her dress accented with what looked to be feathers. She floated above the water, hovering just enough to not touch the wet surface.

“Hera.” Keegan greeted with a bow, a small slap to your back told you that you needed to repeat his gesture. Softly, you curtseyed, eyes curious as you took in her glowing aura.

“Thanatos, may I borrow the girl for a moment?”

Keegan’s lips pursed, obviously not pleased with the question. “I don’t like the idea of her leaving my side, Queen Mother. Forgive me, but I was told to watch her by orders of Hades himself.”

Hera smiled slightly, her skin glowing like a warm pearl in the artificial sunlight. She stepped closer, now firmly on the stone path. “Yes, I was told in council of his protection notice. Ghost is very fond of you, mortal.” She turned to you, a glimmer in her knowledgeable eyes.

You couldn’t help the nervousness eating away at you. “Is he alright?” You found yourself asking, cursing yourself with how much concern you had actually voiced. A knowing smile fell upon the woman’s face.

“As far as I know he is well. Hades left with Artemis earlier this week, she’s our best tracker. If they find word of Makarov we shall know.” Hera informed with her lips pressed together. She now ascended in front of you and Keegan, the God pushing you behind him slightly in protective vigor.

“Makarov?” You voiced, attempting to ignore the shiver that traveled up your spine. Was this the name of the demon that had sent you into such a fright?

Hera stood in front of Thanatos, both of their auras contrasting each other in a clash of dark and light “Let me speak with the girl. We shall stay in your sight, and no harm will come to her, I swear upon the River Styx.”

Keegan huffed, still slightly displeased, but whatever vow she had insisted was enough for him to shake her hand in agreement. “Come with me, mortal. We have much to discuss.” Hera turned to you with periwinkle eyes.

You found yourself stepping around Keegan, his stare burning into your back as you followed after Hera, attempting to keep up with her long stride amongst the stone path. She snapped her fingers, producing two sitting cushions against the soft grass.

Hesitantly you sat against a cushion, the woman falling next to you. Keegan watched from across the pond, arms crossed as he waited.

“You must be unsurprised of us Gods and Godesses appearing before you. But I am Hera, Queen of the Olympians and Goddess of Bonds and Women. But you may call me Kate.”

“You’re Zeus’ Queen?”

Hera smiled softly, a little chuckle falling from her petal lips. “I suppose so. When the atoms formed us and the titans, Zeus and I decided to rein together, but we do not hold a romantic connection, no.”

“I apologize.” You hoped to not offend such a powerful being, despite her vow to keep you safe in this short time.

“It is a common thing to ask, especially since you did not know any better. Most of us Gods do not have the satisfaction of finding a partner.” Kate tutted, her graceful hand swishing across the grass.

“Yet, Simon had found me.” You murmured, eyes falling to the pond that symbolized your betrothal.

“You know, I’m the Queen of Marriage. It was I that the Fates consulted to draw your match.” Hera spoke up, just as the water began to brighten slightly. As if her words echoed into the wet surface.

“So you must know about this prophecy.” You questioned, hoping to possibly get some answers about what the Olympian’s kept mentioning. Yet, you were left dissatisfied, for the Queen of the Heavens pursed her lips. “I do know of the prophecy, but I do not know it word for word. It would be wise to consult in Gaz at your wedding.”

“Gaz is another God?” You questioned, attempting to ignore how sure Hera was that you’d accept Hades’ marriage proposal. “Yes, Apollo is his name, he’s the God of Prophecy and the Sun.”

“There are many of you, it’s hard to imagine you have any enemies at all.”

Kate’s face turned grim, her eyes swirling in a look of caution. “Makarov was always locked away in prison in the underworld. It frightens me that he was able to slither his way into your chambers so easily.”

“How could he have escaped?”

Hera’s lips pursed, “I don’t think he truly has. What you saw was merely a figment of him. Makarov is Tartarus, pure chaos. He wouldn’t have let you live if he was in his true form.”

“He said he wanted everything from me.” Your voice came out confused, what would literal chaos want with a mortal?

“We will keep you safe. Besides, times will be happier.” Hera stood from her position, seemingly satisfied with the little chat.

“Wait…” you called out, suddenly feeling your cheeks redden as you bit your lip in thought. “You said you fortified our marital bond. Will I be happy? Will he?”

Hera let a soft grin spread across her lips.

“For Eternity.”

You stood in front of the mirror, taking time to glance at yourself before making the descent to your chamber. The moon reflected against the glass, as well as Kleo’s watching eyes.

It wasn’t ideal for her to watch your every move, especially such simple actions like bathing or dressing. But it did ease your mind and made your thoughts run clearer.

“Almost ready?” Kleo asked from against the wall, her hand resting upon the hilt of her sword, as if anything would happen in the slightest second.

With a final glance in the mirror, your eyes traveled to the soft ivy green of your nightdress, before shifting up to the soft blemish of your neck, still visible and showcasing.

“Yes, thank you for waiting.” You made sure to show appreciation to all of your guards, knowing they likely had so much better things to do.

It was a short walk to your chambers, the room was lit by a series of candles. Something you found to be lit at all times, despite the waste of wax. The thought of being alone in the darkness was now too much for you to bare, despite being guarded.

You never wanted to see those red eyes again.

Before you could even sit down on your furs, a loud commotion made you jump, coming just from down the hall. Kleo drew her sword, placing you behind her quickly.

“Your Grace, please. You’re injured!” A small voice called out into the hallway, just as footsteps grew louder towards your chambers. “Move.” His deep voice growled close to your door, making you bite your cheek in worry and in happiness that he was back.

The God of the Dead bursted through your door, not bothering to knock or even unfold his wings to make his way through the door. Instead, he stood still, his wild eyes falling to you.

Kleo lowered her weapon, still staying close.

“Are you hurt?” He asked rapidly, you didn’t hesitate to shake your head, not knowing what would happen if you so much as said you had a paper cut.

His shoulders sagged in relief, and it was then that you could see he let his fatigue and injuries get the best of him. Your God was covered in slashing wounds, all the color of his blood of liquid gold.

He took a step closer, and another, until he stumbled slightly, a large gash on his torso making him gasp. It was strange seeing someone of such high power be in pain. Almost instantly you reached out, running on your own instinct as you lowered him down to your furs.

“Why hasn’t he been tended to?” You asked to the man in white robes, likely a medic to Simon. He gulped, extending a variety of bandages and salves out for you to see. “I was trying, he insisted upon seeing you first, my lady.”

Your gaze traveled down to Simon, who was covering a particular long gash on his chest, his eyes adverted almost as if he was scared of your reaction.

With a huff, you moved to take the supplies into your own hands. “I’ve got this, I was my village’s healer. Besides the two of us need to talk.”

The medic nodded, hastily bowing with relief before shuffling out of the room. Kleo held your stare for a moment, before following out of the room.

“What happened to you?” Worry dripped from your tone like falling rain. Gently, you set the bandages upon your bed, right across from Simon. His wings twitched behind his back, just as his black eyes glanced up.

“We found him—the demon. He was stronger than I thought. Artemis and I hardly escaped. But I believe he’s licking his wounds somewhere far away.” His legs spread wider against your bed, his torso leant back and stretching. He jerked, letting out a loud hiss. Even with the mask upon his face you could see the wincing in pain.

“Stop, stop moving you’ll make it hurt worse.” You fussed, bringing up a bottle of salve to your eyes.

“Already hurts pretty bad, darling.”

Your heart fluttered at the name, still you attempted to hide your shaking fingers as your eyes trailed down to his mauled torso. Silently, you bit down upon your lip. Who could destroy a God so easily?

“I need you to take off your shirt.” You ordered, feeling some sense of professionalism leak through your command—Perks of years of healing in your village.

Simon did as told with little fuss, lifting his arms to pull his robes over his head, but as he tugged upon the swirling fabric his wound gushed more liquid gold, making you hastily reach out to him.

“Stop! I’ll do it, you’ll injure yourself more.” Simon dropped his arms back down, looking to be in relief as his skin constricted normally again. He said nothing as you pried his clothing from his torso. Even though it was your second time seeing his rippling chest and stomach, you still found yourself inhaling slightly harder as you examined him.

Snapping out of your stupor, you reached near your nightstand, taking a rag from the pile and dipping it into a wash basin you had previously used to wash your face. The water was still warm to the touch.

You made work of dabbing the multiple wounds with the water, surprised that Simon didn’t even flinch when the rag hit his wounds. You wondered then how many battles he was truly in.

His eyes pierced against your face, making you heavily aware of his stare as you dabbed salve upon the already closing wounds. With nimble hands you began to wrap up his chest.

“You’re staring…” you muttered, eyebrow furrowed in concentration as you attempted to ignore his stare. His hand reached up, latching to your own as he squeezed lightly.

“Makarov, he gets into people’s heads, he managed to get the best of me, slashed clean through my cheek. I thought I had lost you, it seemed so real.” His words rumbled deep within his chest, sincerity dripping from his tone.

“I’m right here.” You assured.

His eyes blew out in adoration, something you were beginning to grow used to. How he adored the air because it was what you breathed, how he envied the sun and rain because they got to touch your skin. How he planted flowers in your name because you had once picked the stems.

“I know.” He whispered.

It was silent for a moment, until you thought back to what he previously said. You sucked in a breath, “you said Makarov cut your face, you need to treat it. I can leave if it brings you comfort?”

His hand gripped your wrist tighter, silence over taking you for a moment before he attempted to sit up straighter.

“Stay.” He requested, a silent plea that spoke volumes. This was huge, at long last you would see his face. His fingers dropped your hand, instead reaching up to the skull helm he proudly wore.

You gulped as he peeled it from his skin.

Air escaped every crevice of your lungs when you looked to him. The real him.

He was every bit a God. His hair cropped and a color of sweet honey. His skin was rich and pale, previous smile lines etched against his eyes, amongst with dark circles hidden underneath his black irises. His nose was large, that fit well against his high cheekbones and lengthy cheeks. Stubble grazed over his sharp jaw, and a singular white scar ran through the bottom of his chin to a set of petal pink lips.

Without thinking, you brought your palm to his cheek that was free of any injuries, reveling in the warmth of his skin and prick of his stubble. He was real, despite how beautiful he was. He was yours.

“You’re staring.” He repeated you from earlier, a small smile peeking from his lips, you decided it was breathtaking.

“You’re insufferable…” you teased back, hand still cradling his cheek. His eyes locked with yours intensely—an intensity that wasn’t there when he was wearing a mask.

“And you’re simply exquisite, Sponsa Mea.” Simon slightly turned his head, his lips falling upon your open palm in a gentle searing kiss.

Your face flushed at the kiss, something that made you yearn for it to be his lips on yours instead of just your palm.

“I’ve had some time to think about our betrothal.” You murmured, suddenly feeling just how close you were to him. How his eyes fluttered shut at the sound of your voice, as if he was intoxicated just on you.

He hummed, the dark wings behind his back extending to your waist, only touching you enough to tickle against your sides. You weren’t sure if he was truly aware of what he was doing, his face still locked against your touch.

“I’ll stay. I’ll marry you.”

Tags: @soapyghost @queenqu33f @blueoorchid @lethalchiralium @eclipse-darling @galagcica @dead-noodles @agspgrwasb @toobsessedsstuff @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @vile-villain6661 @peachlcve @soldier-lass @ghostslittlegf @rebel-soldat @erintaro @ghost-with-a-teacup @fante-di-denari @sollucifer @embers-of-alluring @icepancakes @queen-ilmaree @ahmya-4 @msecho19 @the-abyss-of-fandoms @madysonavery @angstyjellybean @trashboat-the-raccoon @multitargaryen @kdkj122920 @montenegroisr @lilacsourgirl @thisperspective @random0lover @pasta-m1lk @badpvn @sweetybuzz25z25 @stupendoustyrantstranger @4ndjelij4 @bootlegroach @brainstormbby @yehet-moi-ohoratrat @lilpothoscuttings

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley #modern warfare #simon ghost riley x reader

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Text

No More | [3] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i think i have a storyline. i’m winging the SHIT out of this y’all it’s not even funny. (…maybe a top gun-ish au but we’ll see) I LITERALLY CANNOT FIGURE OUT HOW TO KEEP THIS GOING BUT I KEEP FINESSING??? WHAT IS HAPPENING. this sucks too but whatever. i love it. messy is messy and i love it

warnings: angst, cussing, MEDICAL ATTENTION/INACCURACIES, cerby being both useless and useful but we love him, MENTIONS/ALLUSIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE (NOT ABOUT ANYONE FROM 141), cussing, violence, trauma, Top Gun ;)

summary: It takes time heal a wound that big. Alejandro and Soap are big oafs, you have unwanted conversations in person and in text, one with Keegan and one with your elusive best friend back home.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Against Simon’s best protests, you found yourself sitting at your desk on base, already gone over files you meant to before the mission. Your pen hadn’t stopped writing as you signed off on patient notes, confirming what you had put down when you examined them.

It was nearing ten in the morning when your personal phone began to buzz. You glanced up from your notes, grabbing it and looking at the notifications.

ROOS: Alive?

It was your best friend. He texted you every few months to make sure you were, indeed, alive. He fought you tooth and nail about you joining the 141, that’s why you don’t talk as often as you used to.

YOU: Maybe. What’s up?

ROOS: Just checking

YOU: You okay?

ROOS: Had a bad dream.

ROOS: Are you okay? Are you safe?

It wasn’t often that Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw asked if you were safe. It wasn’t often that he texted you at all. Your nightmares were about surviving a plane crash, eating dinner next to frozen and rotting corpses in a town in Ukraine - his nightmares were of flying back day after you crashed to explode your plane so the enemy had no access to the technology, his nightmares were of the weeks of mourning he did of you because your rescue was a classified Special Forces op. That and sometimes, it was of the night you two don’t speak about anymore. He’s protective of you.

YOU: Yes, I’m safe. And at work. I’ve got like 10 guard dogs.

ROOS: Okay

YOU: One of them’s a real dog

YOU: Are you okay? Do you need me to call you?

ROOS: No

YOU: Was it about Ukraine or about Nevada?

ROOS: Nevada

Well, there goes the not talking about that specific traumatic night.

YOU: Do you want to talk about it?

A knock sounded at your door, you glanced up from your phone to let out a calm, “Come in.”

The door opened quickly as you heard the clack of claws on the concrete, you pushed your chair away - a smile invaded your face. Cerberus yapped like a puppy, his front paws coming to set on your thighs as you took his face in one hand, scratching his head with the other while still holding your phone. “Hi, baby.”

The German Shepherd shoved himself forwards, his wet tongue licking your nose and cheek - you pushed him down and laughed, “No kisses, honey, we’re working.”

“He likes you a lot more than he ever will me.” You looked up to see the familiar cloth skull mask of Keegan, his hands shoved in his pockets. You smiled at him.

“How’s your chest? Doing okay?”

Keegan nodded, moving forwards to place Cerberus’s blue leash on your desk. He shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Just came to say thank you.”

Your eyes widened a fraction, hands stopped petting Cerberus - who whined in annoyance. His wet snout pushed underneath your hand, trying to get you to continue to pet him. “I just did my job.”

He sighed, going to pull the chair opposite of you out. He sat down quickly, hands wringing each other. “You didn’t-“ He paused. “You almost died.”

“Part of the job.” Your eyes glanced at your files on your desk before you set your phone on your desk.

“I remember how bad your nightmares were when you first joined us.” He recalled, hands settling on his thighs before he finally locked eyes with you. “Just wanted to make sure you’re gonna be okay before we leave.”

“So soon?” Your eyes widened with surprise. “I thought Price was keeping you guys here for a couple more months.”

“That plant they’re building is something big. Caught the eyes of the US Navy, which means-“

“Top Gun.” You finished for your friend, he gave you a knowing look. The only thing he knew was that something bad happened to you on a mission in Top Gun, he knew about the nightmares.

“Look on the bright side,” Keegan’s voice pulled you from almost jumping off the precipice into what could happen. Your hands clenched into fists. “You’re a very important medical Captain, and you’re not under their jurisdiction anymore.”

You would think. You wanted to say that Laswell kept you as a standby pilot, even though she promised you she’d never make you fly. So, in the eyes of the US Government, you were still a Top Gun asset. A damn good one at that, to the point you knew that Top Gun was pestering Laswell for you back. You wouldn’t tell Keegan that though - he’d rip someone’s throat out with his teeth.

Keegan cleared his throat. “You don’t ever have to fly again, Mercy.”

Before Ghost, there was Keegan who woke you from nightmares. Sure, he wouldn’t hold you but he’d sit next to you and quietly talk about something random, something informational - like the design and sinking of ships. If you put thought to those talks, you would be able to talk about his favorite ships. He was a good friend, incredibly loyal. You were the same.

You nodded, hands going back to pet Cerberus, whose head had settled on your thigh, eyes gazing up at you. You looked at him and smiled, scratching behind his ear. He let out a happy little yap before you looked back at Keegan, a solemn nod came from him.

“You know my number, Mercy.”

“Rest up, Sergeant.” You commented, he stood then.

He walked towards the door, opening it before he took a brief pause, looking back at you. “Be careful with Ghost.” And with that, he was out the door and had shut it behind him. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Keegan had known you two had been together since… you got together. What does that mean?

Cerberus whined, making you look back at him. He raised his paw and smacked your leg, you pet him with one hand as you grabbed your phone again, seeing more messages from Rooster.

ROOS: Trying to wake you up in your apartment. Then it was me running to the ER with you in my arms.

ROOS: I hated that feeling

ROOS: I still hate it

ROOS: I’m sorry I’m bothering you

ROOS: Please don’t tell me if you have a boyfriend again

You internally groaned, knowing how incredibly protective he got of you because of your last relationship - which was almost five years ago. You kept scratching behind Cerberus’ ear, his leg thumped against the floor.

YOU: …Surprise?

ROOS: I think I’m going to have a heart attack

ROOS: I’m gonna throw up

YOU: If it makes you feel any better, we’ve been together for a year and a half and he hasn’t done anything to me other than make me overthink things. He loves me and I know he does

ROOS: It does not make me feel better you ass. YEAR AND A HALF AND YOU HAVEN’T TOLD ME

ROOS: And stop fucking saying shit like ‘oh he loves me, he loves me not’ . That’s exactly what happened last time, you’re starting to fucking freak me out

YOU: I don’t know what else to tell you. He’s a good man.

ROOS: Last time you said that I broke my entire hand in a man’s face. Please tell me you’re safe

You wouldn’t have taken that shit from anyone else. If anyone snapped at you like that in person, they’d be on their back with a knife on their throat. By you or your guard dogs - Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro; Rudy, if you asked nicely. All the men you’ve grown to cherish their companies.

You began to type to Rooster again when there was another knock on your door, three in rapid succession. Your eyebrows furrowed, slightly annoyed. “Yes?”

The door flung open, Cerberus whined when you stopped scratching his ear as you stood, seeing Soap stumble in with a hand on his head. You flung your phone onto your desk, eyes widened. Right behind him was Alejandro and, unsurprisingly, Ghost. You were immediately around Cerberus and your desk, reaching for Soap as he groaned in pain. “What the Hell happened?!”

“Muppets got too involved in their trainin’.” Ghost growled, Alejandro gave you a smile to which you noticed the bloody gash on his forehead.

“You’re both idiots.” You grabbed Soap’s arm and pulled him towards your cot, motioning Alejandro to follow. Cerberus weaved through your patients effortlessly, immediately going straight for Ghost. He pawed at Ghost’s leg while you forced and Sergeant and Colonel to sit on your makeshift examination table. Both of them stared at you, Soap looked like he was out of it. You grabbed a pair of medical gloves, pulling them on quickly.

“Also might be nursin’ a hangover.” Soap mumbled, you rolled your eyes. Of course he had gone out last night. You would have smacked him upside the head had he not been cradling it. You forced him to move his head, seeing the bloody gash on the back of his head near his mohawk.

“Christ, how hard did you headbutt each other?” You mumbled, going to grab your med kit.

“Was his fault.” Alejandro murmured, closing his eyes. “Feels like he cracked my head open like a coconut.” You pulled out your pocket flashlight from your vest, making Soap face you again.

“Keep your eyes open and look at my nose.” The Scot blinked a few times before staring at your nose, you flashed the light into his eyes - they were both reactive, so there wasn’t brain damage. You held up your finger. “Follow my finger.” His eyes followed your finger back and forth, he was responsive so you weren’t worried. You put the flashlight back in your vest before moving Soap’s head again to look at the gash. “Helluva hit, fellas.”

“Thanks.” Both Soap and Alejandro said, the Colonel laughed.

“Didn’t mean to hitcha that hard, hermano.” Soap mumbled as you moved to Alejandro, instructing him the same way. Look at my nose, follow my finger - his coffee like eyes were sinkholes, he did as you told him. If you had taken a moment to set back, you would’ve said that he was your new version of Rooster. A Special Op Limited Edition, with better maintained hair and great jawline.

If you weren’t so enraptured by Simon, you would’ve dove for Alejandro the second he gave you any sort of glare. But no, you’d choose your ice cold boyfriend over a cowboy casanova. Maybe in another life.

You moved the Colonel’s head towards you. It was a thin cut on his forehead, jagged but nothing a small bandage can’t fix. You turned around, peeling off your gloves before grabbing your phone. You opened it, amazed at how many texts Rooster had sent.

ROOS: Please don’t ignore me right now I will get Ice on the phone this instant

ROOS: I mean it

ROOS: Sorry you’re probably busy

ROOS: Just stay safe please.

ROOS: I can’t have a repeat of that shit .I’ll lose my mind

ROOS: Call me when you’re free

ROOS: Please

ROOS: I really don’t want to have to go detective on you and show up at your doorstep like a dog

ROOS: Cause I will

ROOS: You’re worrying me, please don’t make me have to call Mav. If I have to call Mav you will never hear the end of it I SWEAR IT. YOU’LL HEAR ABOUT IT UNTIL YOU’RE DEAD

YOU: I’m working, I’ll text you later

“Dramatic bitch,” You mumbled to yourself before turning your phone off. You moved across the room to your sink. You began to wash your hands as Cerberus poked you with his nose. You glanced down at him. “Go play with Dumb and Dumber, buddy. I’ll be a minute.”

The dog whined, pawing at your leg and poking you with his snout again. He wasn’t alerting, he was trying to get your attention. A search and rescue dog like Cerberus had no job right now since he was on base, except to sometimes get in your way. You gave him a sharp glare. “Now.”

Cerberus let out a loud whine of annoyance before he huffed, walking away towards Alejandro.

“Don’t have to be mean to the poor dog, lass.” Soap commented, you shot him a glare when you dried your hands with a paper towel. He threw his hands up.

“He knows I’ve got stuff going on, he likes to be bothersome.” You pulled on new gloves and grabbed the equipment you needed, moving your chair over to the cot with your foot. You sat down gracelessly, setting bandages and hydrogen peroxide on your lap. You pulled a cotton swab from your vest, opening it and then dousing it in the peroxide.

You took Soap’s head in your hand and moved it again, letting the light shine into it as you dabbed on the peroxide - the man flinched.

“You’re usually chatty, hermana - what’s wrong?”

You glanced at Alejandro, tossing the swab into the garage can behind you. “Friend texted me. Chatted for a while.”

“You not like her or somethin’?” Soap asked, you settled the small adhesive bandage over his injury, sticking it to his shaved head with firm pressure. “You mind not pressin’ that hard?”

You smirked, waving him off. “You’re done.” The Sergeant smiled and stood, walking away from the cot while you faced Alejandro. “Bit of an argument, nothin’ new. Happens when you’ve known them your whole life.”

“Oh?” Alejandro smiled. “Like me and Rudy.”

You shrugged. “When I say my whole life, I mean as soon as I was brought home, I had a best friend.”

“Ah, not like me and Rudy.” He chuckled then, you cleaned the wound with another cotton swab and some peroxide - he didn’t even react.

“Not even close. I didn’t get a choice.” You threw away the swab, opening another bandage.

“You always have a choice in the people you keep company with.” Alejandro closed his eyes as you opened the bandage.

“Not when you’ve both put your lives on the line for each other without question, like I would all of you.” You mumbled, securing the bandage a lot softer than Soap. “Maybe not to the length I would for Roos, but it might be near it.”

“Roos?” Soap echoed, suddenly right next to you as you turned the opposite way to toss the trash into the bin.

“Nickname.” You shrugged, pulling off your gloves and standing. You gestured to the door. “You can leave now, just take some Tylenol if the pain persists.”

Cerberus whined as Alejandro stood, saying a quick farewell as he darted out the door - Soap lingered as you pushed your chair back to your desk. “You’re always so mean.”

“It’s,” You glanced at the digital clock on your desk. “almost eleven. I might just want to go get something to eat,” You sat down, throwing your feet up on your desk as you glared at the Scot. “Maybe I want to sit in silence like I was for the past five hours.”

“Aww, lass, you just wanna get railed by-“

“That’ll do.” Ghost’s voice boomed, making you jump a little as Soap whipped his head to look at his Lieutenant.

Cerberus found his way to you again, pawing at your leg. You reached forwards and scratched behind his ear as you watched Soap and Ghost have a small stare down. Soap backed down after a few seconds, glancing at you and then Ghost. “I’m going to take my leave.”

“As you should.” Ghost’s voice was low, both of you watched as he scurried out of the room, almost slamming the door behind him. You looked to Ghost, who visibly decompressed as he moved towards your cot in sluggish motions. He collapsed onto it, the cot let out a groan under his weight and his mask went straight into the white pillow you kept at the head of it.

You cocked your head to one side. “You hurt too?”

“No.” His voice was muffled.

“You’re just gonna sleep in here?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” You grabbed your phone again, hand leaving Cerberus as you pointed to Ghost. “Go lay down with Dad.”

The German Shepherd would never not take the opportunity to jump onto Ghost, even in a position like that. The dog sprinted the two feet away and jumped onto the Lieutenant’s back, he groaned loudly in pain. Cerberus’s tail wagged with a quick pace as he laid his head on Ghost’s shoulder blades. You quickly took a picture of it before sending it to Rooster.

YOU: oh no! my guard dog killed my guard dog :(

ROOS: THAT MAN IS HUGE .

YOU: Thanks! he’s mine :)

ROOS: I CANT KILL A MAN THAT BIG

YOU: Won’t need to. Pretty sure he’d die before he even raised his voice to me he’d be so ashamed.

YOU: I love him.

ROOS: you have got to stop having boyfriends. my heart can’t take it

YOU: You’re a clingy bitch.

ROOS: well at least someone cares for your well-being 🤍

YOU: My boyfriend does.

ROOS: Don’t fucking say that shit. I’m not getting traumatized again cause that guy is not a man, he is 100% a demon

YOU: LMAO

ROOS: HOW IS HE SO BIG

YOU: Idk. Go to bed idiot

ROOS: Fuck off

YOU: Love you too, clingy bitch.

ROOS: You’re a bitch too

YOU: All day, everyday.

“You’re not paying attention to me.”

You looked up from your phone, seeing now that he moved his head to look at you. Cerberus’s head rested where his nose settled right next to where Ghost’s ear would be. You put your phone down on your desk, putting your feet on the floor as you gazed at him. “I have never heard you say that before.”

“Maybe fuckin’ you would put your attention back on me.”

You rolled your eyes, setting back in your seat. “You’ll always have my attention. I’ve got to keep Roos updated before I get a search party sent on my ass.”

“Sounds clingy.” He murmured, you could barely see as his eyes closed.

“Sounds like what you would do if I didn’t answer your text right away.” You commented, looking at the files you had stared at all morning before stretching your arms above your head. “I’m probably gonna take a half day.”

Ghost hummed from the cot, Cerberus whined from above him. “Take the mutt with you.”

“Always.”

The man moved his body, making Cerberus jump from his back - Ghost groaned in pain. He rolled over like an oaf, since he was bigger than the cot itself. You smiled at him as he looked back to you. “C’mon.”

It was often that he would waltz into your office unannounced and collapse onto your cot, beckoning you to come lay on him. And you did, every time. You gracelessly climbed onto him, settling your head under his chin and stretching your legs out over his.

“You didn’t sleep last night.”

Your sort-of-happy mood completely fizzled out like a flame doused in water. You could’ve sworn he was asleep when you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, holding yourself in the bathtub until you felt like you could breathe again.

“Where’d do go?”

“Tub.” You murmured, hand crawling up his side and settling on his shoulder. “Had a bad nightmare.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t tell you about it.” You spoke immediately, the phantom feeling of flames licking your skin made you bury your face into his clothed neck. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, uh…” His gloved hand went to your hair, petting you gently. “You know where I am.”

“Not really, not all the time.” You whispered, hand clutching his sleeve.

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “I guess not.”

“Is this your way of trying to make it up to me?”

He stilled a little, it wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t laying on his entire body. You drank in the fading smell of his musky cologne he wore sometimes, pressing the top of your head into the bottom of his jaw.

“It’s hard.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to.”

You moved your head up, raising it so you could see his eyes. “At least you’re trying.” You leaned forwards and kissed his cheek, then rolled off of him with a groan. “Alright, I’m going home. Need my key?”

He shrugged as you walked over to your small rucksack, checking what you had in it. “No, got the spare. I’ll lock up when I’m done.”

You looked over your shoulder him, seeing his arm over his eyes. You shook your head before grabbing Cerberus’a leash from your desk and walking back to him. You placed a kiss on the exposed skin of his arm and spoke, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Mmhmm.”

_________________

Simon always made you take the car, the nice SUV he bought for himself yet will not drive - always makes up an excuse to have you drive, and you were grateful. You weren’t even sure he had a driver’s license, let alone any knowledge of driving. He was always keen to walk home anyway.

Cerby dove into the apartment as soon as you opened the door, he immediately sprinted his way to the living room. It wasn’t long before you heard a couple of glass bottles hit the rug and you groaned.

“Cerby, come here.” You called, dropping your rucksack on the floor and shutting the door behind you. You would have taken your boots off, but you had no idea what he had knocked over in the living room. You walked into it, seeing that your dog laid on the couch, tongue hanging out from his mouth and his ears perked. You rolled your eyes, looking down at the rug. There was three empty bottles of the bourbon you knew was Simon’s favorite, your eyebrows furrowed. You kneeled, taking a bottle in one hand and seeing how there was no alcohol left in it. Placing it on the table, you pulled the two other bottles onto the table before noticing a small folded piece of paper under where the bottles had lied.

A knot in your stomach began to tug as you grasped the piece of paper, pulling the piece of paper open and recognizing Simon’s handwriting.

My love,

I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it but, I do trust you. I trust you a whole hell of a lot.

But what we have isn’t worth the pain, I am not worth the pain. If you wanted me to leave, I would. No one has stuck around this long anyway, you won’t hurt me.

But I hate that I’m hurting you. I think the best choice is for me to leave. I’ll always be here for you, you have my number. I’ll send you where I’ll be. I’d rather you be happy without me than miserable with me.

I love you.

That felt like a punch to the gut.

It felt like a knife wedged in between two of your ribs, digging and twisting.

No one has stuck around this long anyway.

Is this the pain he felt, waiting for you? Drowning in his sorrows, going to leave you to save you pain? It made a part of you angry, yet all of you felt ashamed. You had hurt him too.

But he hadn’t left. He had to have written it before you came home because he did not spend one moment without you since you arrived home.

It hurt your heart that he thought his best decision was to run. It hurt to know that he probably felt scared, that he ducked back into that dark place in his head. He was drunk last night, he might not even remember himself writing it - but in case he did, you folded the note again. You placed it on the floor, placing the empty bottles how they were after Cerberus made them fall. You stood, feeling as if you had held a gun to Simon’s heart and pulled the trigger.

Even as you walked back towards your bathroom to shower, you could still feel the gunpowder residue on your hands.

———————

(comment for part 4! it will get better from here, i promise (aka more fucking angst HAHHA))

taglist! (some i wasn’t able to tag, i’m sorry!)

@luhvbot @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @ladystarfishnut @chris3tom2pau1rdj @kat-nee @efsa-lks @angelsquidd @marytvirgin @medivalpersephone @ramadiiiisme @blueoorchid @guiltyconfessions @abbiesxox @lockleywife @nicomactavish @nose235678 @lumpypoll @multi-fandomlovers-world @holyfeck @thriving-n-jiving @kgive @simonsdoll @crazyfandomist @ryunniez @sofasoap @depressedacidtest @angelinathron @dindjarinsbby @kluhhsu @lazyperfectioniste @keiva1000 @jellyedkazoo @le0thely0n @1sam1 @lovecats123451 @erensonly @cielobgers @sunniiiiiiiiii @d1lf-luvr @thekuroinsomething @lake-145 @badpvn @guineapigzwei @qualitypudding @mariamorim28 @s0meth1ngs-n0t-r1ght @doodle-cat16 @5seastar @horniestbutterfly

#simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x fem!reader #simon riley x afab!reader #simon riley x reader

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awritessomething · 4 months

Text

I have absolutely no ideas for writing whatsoever pleaseplease leave requests!!! Smut, angst, fluff, whatever y’all want I can probably do.

Ill write for these people and probably more that I forgot (all male character x fem!reader) :

Formula 1:

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri

Charles Leclerc

Pierre Gasly

Lewis Hamilton

Carlos Sainz

Daniel Riccardo

Mick Schumacher

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

David Rossi (preferably young)

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes

Tony Stark

Thor

Sam Wilson

Deadpool

Steve Rogers

Spiderman (Tom Holland, Andrew Garfield, Miguel O'hara)

Call of Duty

Keegan Russ

Simon "Ghost" Riley

König

Phillip Graves

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Outer Banks:

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

Topper Thornton

John B. Routledge

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Draco malfoy

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

Blaise Zabini

Regulus Black

Severus Snape

Tom Riddle

Sirius Black

Lorenzo Berkshire

Oliver Wood

The Walking Dead:

Glenn Rhee

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Miscallaneous:

Jack Champion (Ethan Landry)

Patrick Bateman

Batman (Christian Bale)

Johnathan Crane

Finnick Odair

Josh Hutcherson (Peeta Mellark, Mike Schmidt, Sean Anderson, Clapton Davis)

Rodrick Heffley

Colby Brock

Sam Golbach

Tristan Dugray

Dylan O'brien

Jude Bellingham

Joao Felix

Bellamy Blake

Patrick Dempsey (Derek Shepherd, Ronald Miller)

Joe Goldberg

Timothee Chalamet (Wonka, Paul Atreides)

Minho (The Maze Runner)

Keanu Reeves (John Wick, Neo, Alex Wyler)

Jim Halpert

Farkas

Ulfric Stormcloak

Miraak

Ben Schnetzer (Max Vandenburg, Brad Land, Russ Sheppard)

Brock Purdy

Ralph Macchio (Daniel Larusso, Johnny Cade)

Dallas Winston

Sodapop Curtis

Robby Keene

Zuko (atla dallas liu)

Jet (atla sebastian amoruso)

Cillian Murphy (Johnathan crane, jackson rippner, Neil Lewis)

Evan Peters (all ahs characters, Luke cooper)

What I wont do:

Pedophilia

Beastiality or anything animal-y

Waterworks

Male reader (sorry)

Character x character

Threesomes or anything not 1x1

Character x oc

Specific body types (i just don’t see the point)

Daddy/mommy kinks

Incest or stepcest

(I’ll prob have to add on but its midnight rn)

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coyote-cowboy-2628 · 17 days

Note

auuaghhh I'm genderfluid so idk if I count, apologies if no 😭❤️

i was thinking like romantically suppressed/closeted long term battle buddies/bffs reader x keegs? maybe something happened one evening or someone got a gf and it's psychic damage sorrysorry have a good day!!

YOU 100% COUNT DARLIN’🫶 don’t be sorry for anything, these requests make my day😭❤️

So..I’m thinking, Male/Reader with a scared Keegan that doesn’t think he is gay. Reader is just his battle buddy, his best friend. Even if Keegan is gay, if he confessed, would reader feel the same?? Keegan has known the reader for YEARS. But has never..asked about sexual preferences. He’s confused, but then he tries to deny it by one evening getting a girlfriend and Reader finds out. It sends Keegan into a really low point, he is miserable, while reader is panicking thinking he doesn’t have a shot. Until they finally confess 😸

Warnings:LOTS OF FLUFF, fake love, un-enjoyable sex, unprotected p in v—Keegan is a closeted queer✌️ implied male reader and reader is taller than Keegan. Slight smut. It’s gay people. If you don’t like it then leave. 🫶 (don’t know if I missed anything)

(Minors + fem aligned please don’t interact!)

Story below the cut!

Keegan had always been a straight guy and never really indulged in anything related to sexuality. That was, until he met you. He was mesmerized at first sight, though he shook it off, for years. He bottled up his feelings and thought it was wrong. That he should have a girlfriend, not a boyfriend. That he should be into the girls with long blonde hair and blue eyes, skinny waists and the ones that play sports, (no offense to anyone)the girls that have their voice to damn high it’s like talking to a dog’s squeaky toy. He wasn’t supposed to be attracted to you with your H/C hair and your E/C eyes, with your deeper voice and slightly muscular build.

It had been 10 years since you and Keegan met, you guys had formed a close bond and great friendship. You two were homies, to say the least. Until recently, you two hadn’t thought anything of it. You and Keegan were just friends, right?

It wasn’t uncommon for Keegan to not talk to people, he was quiet, much like you, but he would absolutely talk your damn head off. Hours and hours of him rambling on about military tactics and sniper rifles, hell, even DOGS. How much he loved Riley and how he one time tried to steal the little German Shepherd from Hesh. It was nice for the grueling soldier to relax once in a while, especially when you were around. He wound trail behind you like a lost puppy and just stare at you, he stared at everyone, but you were different.

He looked at you with these star struck eyes as he listened to you. But that loving gaze started to fade away when he started to feel weird around you. He realized he was getting attached. He got all hot, and Keegan was a very cold person, personality wise and temperature wise. He found himself not being able to sit still, always having to move or fidget with something, when you reached something off a higher shelf for him once, he got all bubbly.

You and him had been friends for years, why was it just changing now?

After a particularly tough and stressful mission, Keegan decides to go to a pub to get some drinks and get away from everyone. Until one girl came up to him, beautiful long blonde hair, curves, blue eyes, long eyelashes and a cute little smile on her face. Keegan didn’t know what to do at first when she started drinking with him, exchanging numbers, and getting a little handsy. It felt gross, but Keegan had forced himself to like it. The images of you still flickering in his head as she laid in his bed, pinned under him, her shirt unbuttoned. His mind trying to think it was you under him, you loving on him, you getting your guts pounded by him.

Maybe it was just..his feelings, or the bourbon flowing through his body, but he felt so aroused that he couldn’t help himself. Unbuttoning his pants and mindlessly slipping his dick inside her without thinking twice, it felt so gross to him, but it was too late. He fucked her into the mattress, grunting and huffing as he tried to get off but he just couldn’t.

Until he felt woozy, she had came and that was enough for him, he collapsed into the bed next to her and fell asleep. The next morning, he apparently had a damn girlfriend?..Keegan told Hesh about it, he had a girlfriend. And knowing Hesh, he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut so word got round that Keegan has someone. Then that word got out to you, it absolutely broke your heart, shattered it to fragments. You felt so angry and frustrated that when you saw Keegan, you went the other way to your barracks, curled up in a ball and let out a few silent tears. Girlfriend huh? Out of the blue like that?..

Keegan was absolutely miserable, he didn’t want to be in this horrible relationship with a girl he just met. That he doesn’t know. He is forced to tell her he loves her and it burns his throat, so he goes to the only place he feels safe. You, he hurriedly walks to your barracks and frantically knocks on the door.

“Kid, god damnit—let me in! Please!..” he begged, his voice breaking slightly.

“What?..” your reply weakly as you open the door, Keegan pushes himself past you into your room. “Keegan?..” You say softly, your eyes red and puffy from crying. He was on the verge of tears as well.

“Listen..we’ve known each other for a long time….and apparently in my 38 years of life, I hadn’t found out who I was. Until now..I love you, I’ve loved you since the day I met you, I thought it wasn’t love—but it’s even deeper than that now.” Keegan said, eyes watery.

“I just need you to know that I don’t want to be with her—I want to be with you..because you’re the one I love.” Keegan says, he takes a step closer to you and takes your hand in his, his hands are cold and trembling, “Please tell me you feel the same..” Keegan whispered.

You seem shocked, some tears rolling down your face, “fuck it.”, You say and gently grab his face, kissing his lips with tears running down both your faces. Your bodies relax and your finally met with the relief you needed all along, that was right infront of you. Each other.

(AHHHH I love how this came out, please leave more suggestions for stories🫶🫶🫶)

#call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #cod x male reader #male reader #cod keegan #call of duty #keegan russ x male reader #keegan russ cod

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buns0fst33l · 1 month

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COD Men Headcanons

- Pets they would own -

Some of these have detailed explanations, some do not. If anyone is actually interested in further reasoning, just lmk, but this was just an idea worm I’ve had for a while 💋

- Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley-

German shepherd, obviously. It’s canon and it suits him. I could also see him owning a Doberman.

- John ‘Price’ Price -

Chocolate lab, English. I imagine he names it Scout, regardless of whether it’s a male or female.

-Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish-

Huge orange exotic shorthair- not by choice, the distribution system got him.

- Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick -

Weimaraner and a Boston Terrier. Big, smart male. Little devilish female.

- König -

Giant Schnauzer and a tuxedo cat.

- Alejandro Vargas -

Probably a German shepherd like Simon. An older male, and likely a retired police/military dog.

- Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra -

A rescue bully mix. She’s like 130 lbs of muscle and she is a big spoiled baby. She’s like a bull in a china shop and knows zero commands, she’s just house-trained. Everyone loves her.

- Keegan P. Russ -

Husky. Big grumpy black and white male who talks back at him. He loves the company and would never admit it but he takes a lot of pride in having such a handsome dog. Very well-groomed.

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ghouljams · 3 months

Note

would it perhaps be a lot for me to ask for any crumbs of sheep farmer not-so-cowboy!Keegan? i have been thinking about sheep and how amazing it would be to cuddle and sleep with them, and Keegan (along with Price but that's a whole other box that's safer to leave unopened) literally never leaves my mind, so i am here humbly asking you to bless me with the masterful art is your writing.

You want thoughts on Keegan I have so many Thoughts on Keegan

not-so-cowboy!Keegan loves that you've got so much fire in you, that you're a little crazy, loves that you're not willing to go down without a fight. He loves even more that you'll settle down for him. Loves that you don't see how much he cares for you until you're half asleep. That you always smile up at him when he sets food in front of you, always tip your head back into his hands when he offers to wash your hair, that you always reach for his hand in the mornings when you're still groggy, that you let him lead you around like a puppy.

He loves you in the morning. You following him out to the pasture, in your pjs and boots, one of his jackets thrown over your tee and wrapped tight around your middle. You never seem to be quite warm enough for the morning chill as you hop up onto the pasture fence, pull your feet up to settle on a lower rung, content to watch the dog corral the sheep as Keegan counts heads and makes note of what his flock needs. You always jump down and hurry after him when he turns to check the barn, reaching for his hand so he can lace your fingers together as he walks. He loves the way you coo at the new lambs, how you rub their ears between your fingers, loves the way they follow after you as soft and sweet as they are. He loves taking you back to the house and settling you with a warm cup of coffee while he makes breakfast.

He loves you at night when the two of you meet up with the Walkers at the only bar in town. Loves the way you lean against the bar, the way your perfect lips curve into a smile, the way your fingers rest against the neck of a beer bottle. Loves inserting himself between you and whoever you're talking to, loves that your eyes light up when he asks you:

"You're so fine, you know that?"

Loves the way you tell him, "I know." With a spark in your eyes that he can never ignore. He loves the way you always play along with his games, that you always meet him where he is, that he never worries you won't come home with him.

"You got a boyfriend?" He continues, asking questions the rest of the men at the bar could only dream of. You rest your cheek against your hand and give him a once over that makes him positively preen.

"Maybe," You purr, and he loves the way each syllable drags over your tongue, "Why, you lookin' to submit an application?"

"And what if I am?"

You shrug, look back at your drink, "I got high standards."

"I'd be good to ya," Keegan tells you, just to see you smile again, to see you duck your head to stop him from seeing you break character. Just to hear you murmur,

"I know." Like you're so sure of him it hurts.

He loves that too, that you're his. That you know you're his the same way he knows he's yours. Keegan is a good shepherd. He looks after his flock, and you're part of that now.

#cod x reader #x reader #keegan ghosts #keegan x reader #keegan russ #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #cowboy!keegan #actually I guess its #shepherd!keegan #he's so sweet on you it actually might be illegal

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brokenpieces-72 · 2 days

Text

COD NASCAR/FORMULA ONE AU

PLEASE LEAVE MORE IDEAS! I HAVE REQUESTS OPEN!

If you've found content for this please tell me but imagine the 141, Los Vaqueros, Ghosts, Kortac, and even Atlas as all these different race car teams/companies. That would honestly be pretty dope, no lie.

You have Price as a crew chief, he used to race but now is a coach for the others. Johnny and Kyle are both drivers. Simon is the crew chief for Soap when he's racing and Price is Kyle's.

Alex is Farah's coach, and Farah is one of the few female drivers. Farah used to race with Price, but he called it quits. Farah came to him to ask him to be her coach but Price told her she was fine, and that he had nothing he could teach her. After a crash on the circuit, Alex lost his leg and decided to coach Farah, wanting to offer his help and remain in the game somewhat.

Rudolfo is the crew chief for Alejandro, and in this AU I'm going with the concept of Valeria actually working with them rather than against them. There have definitely been some moments where Alejandro and Valeria have collided on the track but those are legitimate mistakes (I've seen this happen in Formula One).

Elias is the coach and crew chief for the ghosts. Keegan, Merrick and whoever else (don't know all of their names) are the pit crew and they are remarkable when it comes to pit stops, holding some pretty high records. Hesh and Logan are both drivers. One day while on the practice track, they discovered a stray dog, Riley and made him their mascot. Fans often mention the adorable German shepherd stickers that are on the cars.

Shadow company also have a team, with Graves often approaching Farah to join his team. While Farah respects him she remains on her own team. Graves gives Farah a run for her money though, not holding anything back to the point it becomes a bit of a rivalry. As for Kyle and Johnny... Graves was convinced by his manager to cause a collision, wanting "shock factor" on the track. Graves has since fired that manager, knowing he was capable of much better than that. Kyle and Johnny try to avoid him on the track.

Atlas is like that one company from Cars 3 where they have all the highly advanced technology going on. They want to "improve" racing, but none of the other teams go for it. Unfortunately, Will dies in a crash. Jack takes over but eventually becomes independent, forming a team of his own with people he actually trusts.

This idea came to me because I recently got training in the tire shop at my work. Started with me just removing bolts from tires, and then imagining Alejandro as a formula one racer and it going on from there.

I might write stuff about this, feel free to request fanfics.

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sombrashe · 9 months

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#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #keegan p russ #simon ghost riley #kate laswell #rodolfo parra #general shepherd #phillip graves #john soap mactavish #operator quotes

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ai-luni · 1 year

Text

Virago

David “Hesh” Walker x Fem!Reader

HELLO! It’s a blue moon and I return with a fic to cope with my random obsessions! Part 2

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: Blatant misogynistic comments and touches, canon typical violence, suggestive sexual content (which honestly might be illegal given the setting of the scene whoops), and of course bad writing. I’M NOT A WRITER! No Y/N

A/N: I’m in a massive COD Ghosts phase and there are barely any fics for my boy Hesh. So I had to fix that. This basically just follows the plot of the campaign. I got lazy and haven’t finished writing sin city but I want to write a part two so hang tight :)

Reader’s nickname is Virago

June 7th - No Man’s Land

It was a rescue mission when you met the Walker’s boys. You had heard about them a couple times, Elias wasn’t shy about sharing his once very domestic life with you. But now there was little time to think about it. In fact you thought about the dog more than you did the boys that day. But this mission wasn’t like your usual, Ajax wasn’t gonna last forever.

“Alright, we don’t have a lot of time. You can stick with us but you do what I say - when I say it. Understood?” Merrick said to the boys. You joined Keegan’s side before heading out.

“Got some stragglers on the road. Could be trouble.” The lot of you looking over a road through tall grass.

“Keegan, Virago. Post up and keep us covered. You Walker boys are with me.” Merrick ordered and immediately you went off to find a position. Gun fire reigned loose and in a flurry of adrenaline and muscle memory, you found yourself at the gates of greenway park “Fireball Charlie” - what once was a baseball stadium - in under a couple minutes.

“They’re moving him, we should go now.” The state you found Ajax in was enough to make your blood boil. You hadn’t served with him as long as the rest of the ghosts but you knew him well enough and you’d always fight for your team no matter what.

“They’re moving Ajax, so our windows closing fast. We’ll hit him at home plate and work our way up from there.” Further orders given by Merrick once acquiring a vehicle. You sat in the back aside Merrick and Hesh. One hell of a ride, you often questioned if Keegan even had a civilian licence.

“Weapons free!” Once more the hell fire began and you ran through another gate. The German Shepherd who stared at you with wide adoring eyes only moments before leapt through the missing windscreen onto a federation soldier.

“Holy shit.” A comment of fear and intimidation and excitement all swirled together at the sheer ruthlessness of that dog. It was the first thing Hesh heard you say all mission.

“Yeah.” You turned to see Hesh by your side. You figured he was the dog’s handler. He seemed proud, he should be.

“Ajax is through this atrium! Move! Move! Move! Hurry before more guys get in.” Merrick took cover behind a barrack, “Virago, get ahead as far as you can, weapon hold. We’ll keep you covered, keep us posted.”

Jumping into action, you took yourself along the edge of the open aired arcade to a flight of stairs. The fastest steps your tactical gear would allow you to take without winding yourself. Gun held close to your chest with light steps avoiding fire. You could hear the team, slowly but surely following in your steps.

Through a roofed arcade and another flight of stairs you made it to a closed set of double doors, chatter coming from the other side.

“This should be where they were holding Ajax, one flight of stairs, shouldn’t be a difficult run.” You notified them while waiting beside the door hinges ready to take cover or fire.

“Almost at target, let’s mop up!” Merrick’s yelling could almost reach you over the gunshots. You took out a couple soldiers out over the railing, covering the boys as they made their way up the stairs.

Logan pulled out the remote sniper, the moment you heard a fire, Merrick sent the go signal.

“Twelve o’clock! Twelve o’clock!”

“Runner on the left!”

“Clear right!”

“Clear left!”

“Room Secure!”

Once cleared, you passed the soldier left on the ground. Poor guy got Keegan yelling at him by the balls. You knew he’d take this harder than anyone else, he and Ajax were close.

“Where is he? Where did you take him!”

Careful and ready for fire, you tread through the blown out room. Logan by your side as you halt before a steep slope. There was an obvious trail from that slope through the stand and down another tunnel entrance. You turn to your team noticing the other walker boy pulling his dog away from the soldier for Keegan to finish off. You beckon him over.

“Bring the dog, there’s a trail.” You turned to the youngest Walker boy, “I’m going down, use the remote sniper to cover me. Follow under merricks instruction.”

He gave you a curt nod before you were off.

“Riley’s got a scent!.” The team followed suit. Riley leading the lot of you to an almost closed garage door. Multiple pairs of feet seen pacing inside.

“We don’t have time for this. Gas masks on.”

Again through another tunnel, a conference room, another tunnel. This place was starting to piss you off, reminding you why you never really liked baseball in the first place. You’d later refer to it as the nightmare labyrinth.

Eventually you found Ajax, Riley sniffing him out first, Keegan on his knees by his side second.

“How is he?” Not an ounce of effort was made to hide the fear in your voice.

“It’s bad.” Keegan was cradling the man as he coughed.

“Son of a bitch.” In a quick but necessary moment of solidarity, you placed a comforting hand to Merrick’s shoulder. “Hang in there Ajax, Hang in.”

“Rorke. It was Rorke. He’s targeting…” Ajax let out a cough from deep in his chest. Keegan held him tighter in shallow breaths. “Look… the wall.”

“Come on, hang in there Ajax.”

“He’s gone.” The room fell silent, you took to distraction. You look for the wall and your eyes grow in momentary panic at what you found.

“Merrick, he was right.” Your voice barely showed any sign of grief you were trying to swallow. No time to think. You stood by Hesh. He held out a flare for you to see, his free hand consolidating you with a gentle pat to the shoulder.

“Get him ready to move.” Merrick ordered, Ajax’s body already hoisted over Keegan’s shoulder. Then by your side.

“It’s a kill list.” You told him.

“Rorke’s targeting ghosts.” He resolved. Hesh’s eyes widened as he looked over the photos of you lot on the wall, his eyes drifting to one of a girl in tactical gear only realising once meeting your glassy gaze that it was you. You were smaller than the others sure but half your face was covered by a cloth, the other grease paint and your voice had been so gravelly and focused.

“Who the hell is Rorke?” He asked after clearing his throat, clearing his mind. Merrick had already collected Ajax’s mask and was heading out of the room for evac. You patted Hesh’s arm as a signal to move it.

“No time to explain.”

Everything was one fight to another. You’d only truly catch a break in your third helicopter of the day.

“Alright, get us outta here!” Keegan yelled, clearly as over it was you were.

“Hey, we’re not going anywhere” The eldest walker boy stood from his seat, he was frustrated, looking to pay it out on someone and Keegan was in his line of fire. You interjected with an assertive hand to his vest.

“Hey, calm down.” Your cloth was pulled down to your neck now. Eyes wide as they met his. For a moment it actually worked, like you had covered the space in a blanket of silence to give him a moment to breathe. He glanced at the hand on his chest then met your eyes again. You were almost smiling. If he wasn’t panicking over losing his father, he probably would’ve smiled back.

“Hey! We just saved your asses!” Merrick shoved the Walker boy to the wall, one arm holding his tactical vest fueled by his impatience and a hot head.

“We didn’t need your help!” The boy fought back. By this time you had retreated to the front of the helicopter, hands held up in mock defeat towards your commanding officer with an amused smirk. He shook his head, hung in the slightest tint of embarrassment or nostalgia. Boys will always be boys.

Merrick will always be a testament of that. He was the same now as he was and will continue to be.

“The hell you didn’t!” Merrick had shoved the Walker boy down next to his brother on the bench.

“Stow it! All of you!” Finally your commanding officer decided to step in.

“We have to go back! Our dads down there and we’re not leaving without him!”

“That’s real admirable of you, but your father’s not there anymore.” He sat them down, really laying the act on thick. You remembered the bastard being dramatic but not this theatrical. He pulled the mask off.

“Dad, this whole time? You were one of them, you’re a ghost.”

“Try the Ghost! That’s your commanding officer.” Merrick was in a mood. He joined you where you stood next to Keegan. You welcomed him by holding a palm out as if asking him to calm down.

“Cool it. Stretch your legs.” You spoke softly, mockingly at him. Fake concern. He returned with a sarcastic smile. There was never a right time to push his buttons - especially not when he got in a mood… and he had many moods - but that never stopped you from having your fun every now and then.

You waited for a moment, you could faintly hear your commander welcoming his sons to the Ghost squad. It warmed your heart, though you would never admit outloud.

Elias had become like a father to you over your time being a ghost, the respect you worked hard to earn from the man radiated from him when addressing his children with unconditional love.

You weren’t surprised seeing his sons often labelled as ‘natural born leaders’, they had the best of the best taking them through life from the very beginning. They held your respect for that alone.

A genuine smile grew on your face as the eldest turned to caught your eye. He finally did return the smile. You found it sweet how his feet became restless in the moment of excitement.

“We’re ready, We won’t let you down.”

June 15th - Federation Day

It had been approximately 9 days since you had met the Walker boys. They were everything you imagined Elias’ children to be. Determined, well mannered and well… handsome. This has been your first mission with them since. Your goal: To gain intel of Rorke's current location.

It had been somewhat of a quiet mission up until this point, you knew all hell would break loose when you make your evac but for now, you almost had your hands on the federation soldier and “friend” of Rorkes, Victor Ramos.

“Dammit, he’s not here! Hesh?” Keegan calling into his comms when busting into Ramos' empty office.

“I got him.” Hesh dragged him in and pushed onto the office chair with a gun pointed to his head.

“He knew you would come.” Ramos’ words echoing off the gun metal.

“Where’s Rorke? Where is he!”

“I don’t know!” Ramon interjects, hands in the air “no one knows!”

“Vig.” Keegan gave you the ‘go ahead’ look. The one step in front of Hesh and Ramos was pushed onto the desktop by the lapels. Hesh now standing to the left of the man, his pointed gun in clear view. Light vibrations rushed through your body by the man’s trembling. He knew what he was getting into the moment he befriended Rorke. There was no remorse to be shared.

“You have five seconds to deliver the coordinates on Rorke.” Keegan's voice rattled through the man’s skull, suddenly restless.

“Four.” Ramos yanked his arms out of your grip.

“He’s not here!” “Three.” You looked to Hesh.

“Two.” With a subtle nod your way, he readied his feet for fire. Ramos’s left arm dove across the table.

“His location is in there! In an encrypted file!” Before you could follow the vector of his finger out the door, the screen fizzled awake behind you. Grabbing Ramos's loose arm, you turned the best you could to glance at the screen behind your tactical helmet.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t the walking dead.” It was Rorke, you've heard his voice only once before in a recording but you’d never forget it. “Hm, I knew you’d follow the breadcrumbs.”

“You tried to kill my father, you piece of shit!” Hesh haphazardly lept towards the screen. Sending the now half conscious Ramos into the desk chair, you met Hesh halfway.

“Hesh.” Your hands holding him back by the chest.

“The sons of Elias Walker. Boys sent to do a man’s work.” Hesh’s mouth went dry, his eyes fell from the screen to your gaze, then his shoulders dropped. He finally backed off, targeting his gun back onto Ramos.

“Enough games. Where are you, Rorke?” You turned to get a good look at the man on screen, your patience running thin.

“Ha! Vi Ra Go. Talk about a man's work. Nice to put a voice to the face but where I am doesn’t matter.” He mocked. Your eyes narrowed out of frustration. “What matters is a decade ago they left me to die in this city. And from this night forward, Elias lives with the knowledge he sent his own sons to their death.”

“It was a set up.” Keegan said under his breath. The screen shut off and you locked eyes.

“Let’s move!” You yelled, stepping with a heavy foot. One tap to the shoulder of the boy to your left and he followed behind you. Subconsciously pairing off as you knew Keegan would have Logan’s back. The building was collapsing, you could hear it before feeling it.

“Command, mission is compromised! Attempting an aerial exfil from the 52nd floor!” Keegan was last to leave the room as he barked into his comms. You led the boys down the stairs, the concrete cracking in trails after your steps. Alarm raging. Scaffolding bare.

You had your head resting on your hands, these trips after a mission were never a highlight for anyone in particular. People have different responses, Merricks paces restlessly, riding on leftover adrenaline like a drug high. Keegan sits still, to the side, not quite giving into exhaustion but with more of a level head then you reckoned someone should after jumping out of a collapsing building.

You, however, are much smaller in frame and when you sit down, it tends to hit you quicker than everyone else. They’d called you a lightweight, especially when you share a drink with them. Keegan’s a hard one to make laugh but when Kick and Ajax continue to get you shots of water, the whole table shits their little cargo pants. So they let you bathe in the sound of the helicopter and regain a little strength.

“You know him?” Your eyes barely opened as you turned to the boy who just sat next to you. You’re confused eyebrows egging him to elaborate “Rorke.”

You shook your head and rested your head against the wall. One large exhale and you met his eyes again.

“They brought me on a long time after him. Knew the stories though,” Hesh watched with expecting eyes, ready for you to continue. “But he’s after me too and he took Ajax. That’s personal enough for me.”

He gave an understanding nod and rested his head against the wall beside you. In the corner of your eye, you catch Keegan and Logan share a side eye glance. You can tell Keegan thinks you're getting soft but this job gives you little comfort. You’ll clench your balaclava as tight as you were now to stay cool in front of this boy whenever just to keep feeling the way he makes you feel.

The next few days pass slower than usual. You could blame it on the same fact everyone else did. That Rorke was still out there. You almost had him and then was sent back a couple steps.

However, you really knew it was because in the back of your mind, the idea of you, a boy and his dog, sat peacefully.

Every mission, you kept your eye on him. Covered his back when you could and every mission he’d cover yours. Every mission you were sent to scope an area by his side. In between missions you would sit and chat. Chat about how you became a ghost, talk about his life before the military, talk about how he started to think of Riley after being away too long or how the other ghosts have become like father figures to you. The latter being a secret you thought you’d take to your grave.

Sometimes Logan sat with the two of you, sometimes everyone else. In a group you would discuss sport and women and combat. Your plights and fights. Hesh watched as you grinned everytime Merrick rested a casual arm on your shoulder, you watched as Hesh beamed whenever Elias would place a proud pat to his back.

June 23th - Passage to Antarctica

Sure there were things to do, meetings to attend, plans to go over. But for the most part, on these kinds of days, you had more time to yourself then you would get in a while. Time you well needed when in constant close proximity with people like the ghosts.

Once you were done on deck talking with the force, you made your way below deck to the sleeping quarters. You knew for a fact Merrick and Keegan would stay above deck for a smoke and Logan wouldn’t stray too far from Keegan no matter. But Hesh?

Something inside of you almost wished he would join you. You’d spend hours in the dark questioning if it was wistful or if you just felt guilty for having these thoughts cross your mind more often than not lately.

When you had shared your plans of sneaking off to nap to the guys, every one of them shared a knowing look when Hesh was soon to follow you a few minutes after. It bothered Merrick more than he thought it would - feeling almost protective over you - but Keegan and Logan had already started the betting pool days before.

“Just in time too.” Logan was quick to add.

Hesh was quick to catch up to you. He stopped you in the hallway below deck, hand on your shoulder and a sentimental look in his eye. One that almost took your breath away at the sudden vulnerability. One you’d only seen him share with the likes of his family or with Riley.

“Virago.”

“Hesh.”

Let the games begin.

“Is there a reason you have me stopped in the hallway or?”

“Yes.” His chest rose with a deep breath. You had to rip your eyes away to look into his eyes. He continued his confession, “Virago, I think about you.”

“You- what?” Spoken like you’d been punched to the gut. Your ears boiled. He had both hands on both shoulders now and at some point had steered you off to the side of the hallway with him.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

“This is highly inappropriate, I-” You awkwardly shimmied his hands off your shoulders as you tried to brush past him. He stopped you again, a hopeful, charming smile plastered shamelessly on his face.

“It’s ridiculous, I know!” A boyish chuckle escaping through his words.

“Hesh.” The way you called him sent shivers down his spine. Had the situation been any different, had he not spotted the hope in your eyes everytime you looked at him, he would’ve given up by now. But he was already your weakness, as you were his. One more crack and he knew you’d be his. “I have to go.”

That last crack was following you directly into the female berthing room. He greatly enjoyed your stunned state, it filled him with a sense of pride to influence your emotional responses so strongly.

“Lieutenant! This is highly inapprop-” You’re scolding was cut off by a pair of lips and two hands gently holding your head in place. The final push.

You melted in his warm, calloused hands. This is what you were afraid of, being so completely and utterly in the palm of his hand. You’d thank the stars for months that the room was currently unoccupied.

His kiss was slow but hungry. Like he’d been dreaming of it but forced himself to savour you. Once you had relaxed into him, he moved his hands down to your waist, pulling and pushing. Chest to chest, back to bunk. Any gasp or sigh you let out, he returned with a quiet sound of pure bliss. Lips skimming each other but not locked. Open mouth pants, warm breath with a haze of mint below your nostrils.

When you pressed your chest further into his, hands caressing his buzzed head to the nape of his neck. He shook his head, pulling away with a breath he struggled to take.

“You tell me no now because I may not be able to stop if we keep going like this.”

“Hesh.” You said feigning a scolding tone.

“You can call me lieutenant again.” He joked but sounded so out of breath. He could barely keep his eyes open when you ran your fingernails over his shoulder blades.

“David.” You retaliate in a real scolding voice. A warning. He only groaned as his head fell onto your chest.

“Yeah, that’ll do it.” He groaned. His grip on your hips got tighter, pulling you against him in a way that made you gasp. Showing his appreciation of the sound by latching his lips to your neck.

The boy fell just as deep as you had. You wanted him so bad but the adrenaline running through you wasn’t entirely from him either. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from the door even when you tried.

You took a loud gulp and pulled him off you. His confused face soon daring as you guided him into your berth on the floor and pulled the curtain shut. It was tight, you laid on his chest, your back touching the roof if you arched your back. You didn’t care. If you had the chance to, you wouldn’t have ripped yourself from his chest and just stay this close forever.

It was dark, his hands on your hips gave you butterflies. Your knees tingled as they laid either side of his thighs. He was breathing just as hard as you were.

You started taking off your shirt and his eyes widened.

“Take your shirt off.” You didn’t ask but it also wasn’t an order. He was taken aback by your forwardness all of a sudden but didn't hesitate to wiggle his way out of the confining khaki material. “If these things start to smell, someone will know.”

His hands were already exploring your bare waist, your lower back, upper back, the curve in your spine to the hanging stomach over him. Over your upper arms and shoulders to your chest. He memorised every curve, the feel of your soft skin. The way you’d cringe when he touched a certain point on your waist. The way you’d gasp when he cupped your breast and brought it out of your bra.

“Hold me up.” He obliged with no hesitation. You desperately wanted Hesh out of his pants and needed the hands that were keeping you up to do so.

“May I?” you asked, hands resting over his belt. His eyes were desperate.

“Please.” Who were you to complain? He brought you close to him, arms wrapped around your upper back pressing your chest against him. His lips rested next to your ear, determined to at least let you hear him if nobody else could. Arm reaching down between your bodies, you soon had in him his hands.

“Holy shit.” He moaned in your ear.

“Yeah.” You moaned back.

“Did you get your nap, Vig?” Keegan's deadpan voice almost makes you think his question was genuine.

“What nap?” The words spilling out before a single thought could be put into them. You froze once you noticed your mistake, eyes wide in panic. There was no coming back from this but you could try. “Yes. Yes I did.”

He only raised an amused eyebrow and left your side with a “I didn’t think so.”

June 28th - Sin City

“Commander Walker, may I have a word with you.” Your fingers were fidgeting, eyes to your feet. He’d never seen you this way. You were a strong woman, Elias knew all too well. What other men called annoying - one well read man’s attempt to unknowingly call you a shrew - Elias taught you could be a sign of courage and strength. Virago. A word his wife used to love.

This demeanour was different though. From you, almost uncanny.

“Is everything okay Sergeant?” You took a gulp. He couldn’t stop the amused look on his face. He had a creeping suspicion of the topic you wanted to discuss, the whole team was starting to catch on. Hell, even kick could’ve guessed it.

His suspicions were true. You knew you had to bring it up to him. The incident on the way to Antarctica consumed your every waking thought. It was almost dangerous, never have you had something come close to waning your focus on missions but this. This made you worried. It hasn’t even been a month of knowing this boy and you were worried.

“Sir, this is very difficult for me to talk about. I’m afraid this is very inappropriate.” He let out a sigh, shaking his head. His expression was shielded by a thumb and pointer finger holding his nose bridge. Your stomach dropped.

“It’s okay Virago. Take your time.” He raised his head to look at you, giving out an involuntary chuckle. You stared at him, not sure what to do next. You were certain everything you said came out in a stutter.

“For his sake and your sake and the ghosts sake, I will stand down if need be. It was never my intention to cause an issue like this, I know how inappropriate it is but i’m afraid of how it may develop and what will-”

“Virago.” Breathe.

You follow the hand on your shoulder up to his eye. With more vulnerability than you were anticipating.

“Sir. Your son makes me feel like a giddy school girl.”

After a long, uncomfortable beat, he lets out a genuine, hardy chuckle. It turns into a laugh.

You brought your hands to cover your face in mild embarrassment. After all the chaos you endure in your job, admitting a little crush is what finally brought you to your knees. All you could do was share the laugh with Elias. It’s only when the moment settles that he gives his response.

“As your commanding officer, you two work together better than a lot of teams I’ve seen out in the field. I am happy to overlook it as long as it doesn’t cause any problems. I see no reason for you to step down; however, if you think it’s the best decision for you, I won’t stop you. You’re an excellent sergeant, that's why you’re on this force.” You’re certain your face is red but his shoulders drop and the warm, a paternal smile returns to his face.

“As a father, you’ve brought a sparkle to his eye I haven't seen in him since he was 18. I couldn’t feel any more pride if my son had chosen someone lesser than you.” Were you crying? A grown ass woman and you were crying at your commander’s words. You didn’t think his validation meant this much to you but you had always worked hard for this man’s respect. “He’s a stubborn one. You’ve got your work cut out but at least I know he’ll be in good hands.”

“Thank you sir.” Was all you could get out without allowing your voice to crack. You took a quick glance at the boy standing by his younger brother. Elias walked to join them allowing you a moment to recollect yourself before the landing in vegas. With a quick but hot walk, you made it to the previously known luxor, now safe house.

“JSOC’s going to want to move fast on this, so load up before you get any shut-eye. We got six hours until Keegan gets back.”

You were already by Merricks side, guiding Logan to stock. Elias had been stopped by Hesh and dragged to the corner.

“Dad, I need to talk to you for a sec.” Elias could feel the same smile growing on his face from only moments before. He was starting to think something must have happened on the last mission for the both of you to bring your feelings to his attention with this kind of urgency.

“David, if this is about the girl, I already know.” Hesh stopped in his tracks. The boy was too stunned to speak! Perhaps he was meant to say a comprehensive sentence, instead he let out a series of “uh”s, “oh”s “wha?”s, “ how?”s.

“She got to me first. A bit out of your league.” With a nudge to his gut from his father’s elbow, the tension slowly started to expel from his body. In fact he even gave out a laugh. Sheepish but true, you were out of his league.

“You’re not mad?” Suddenly he felt like a child again, his worst nightmare would be disappointing his father.

“Fuck no son. She is a warrior, that one.” Whatever Elias was fiddling with was dropped momentarily as he met his son’s eyes. Expression dropped to a deadpan. “If you started fucking the rest of my ghosts, well then we’d have a problem.”

All Hesh could do was laugh out of shock and relief. He caught a glimpse of you beckoning Riley to follow you and he felt his pupils turned to hearts like an old cartoon.

“I could marry her, dad.”

“Hey, hey. Steady on Hesh.” Elias chuckled out, passing Hesh with a pat to his back to pull him out of the little trance you put him in. He couldn’t help but laugh - not in a judgemental way but in a nostalgic ‘young love’ kind of way. “You keep each other alive first and then you can start getting all cosy. You copy loverboy?”

“Copy.” Hesh replied with a goofy little smile.

“Hold up.” Merrick stopped. “Something feel off to you?”

“Security’s working.” In a matter of seconds you were on the floor. Elias’ faint yelling at Riley in the distance played you off as you closed your eyes and took another deep inhale of gas.

They say hearing is the last to go when you die. You figured this might be it. You could hear Merrick’s voice yelling - how he usually used his voice - and figured you wouldn’t be mad if he were the one to send you off.

What they never say though is that you’d feel hands grab you before you die. Now that sobered you.

You were being picked up off the ground, grey federation gloved hands steadying its grip on you in places that were entirely necessary to lift you up onto a chair. After a minute of having your hands brought behind your back and met with a rope, your vision could finally focus in front of you.

Merrick sat across from you, hands tied behind his back like your own. He watched the soldier behind you intently before locking eyes with you. You wondered what time it was, how long had you been out, how long had he been awake? You could have sworn he gave you a mocking look as if to say “lightweight” but it was short lived. You might have even laughed in any other situation.

With a quick surveillance of the room, you noted there were only a couple of soldiers by the door. You could only just make out another figure in the hallway those soldiers were talking to. The soldier behind you was struggling with the rope as your hands started to fidget out of them. You gave Merrick a wink, devising a quick plan with a wordless exchange in under a few seconds.

An eyebrow raise and a slight nudge of your head indicating the soldier behind you. ‘I'll take out the one behind me.’

A head tipped to his chair, then to the door behind him and two very exaggerated blinks. ‘You take the two at the door.’

He gave a curt nod and your expression stopped him before he counted the leap into action. You took a short moment to contemplate how to relay this information without your hands, it was never going to be a very dignified attempt.

A head nudge back to the door, a defeated eye roll then the most comical, clear attempt you could express talking by flapping your mouth. ‘The two at the door are talking to someone.’

He raised an eyebrow best he could. ‘How many?’

You returned a disparaging look and a subtle shoulder shrug. ‘I don’t know.’

He took a breath, shot a determined look then tipped his head to a count of three before you both jumped to your feet.

Whipping yourself around, you sent your tied hands slamming to the exposed neck of the shoulder behind you. He stumbled over the back of the chair, giving you a split second to seize the opportunity and kick his ass over his head. A clear thud paired with an echoed crack as the man’s back hit the concrete. His attempt to reach for his gun was unsuccessful when a boot trod on his wrist and a wooden chair smashed to bits off his vest.

With what leverages your tied hands could give you, you tugged out the unresponsive soldier's pistol and finally turned your attention to Merrick.

One soldier was on the ground, the other was giving him some little trouble. Two shots was enough to have the federation soldier on the ground. Whoever those soldiers were speaking to in the hallway were no longer there but would obviously return soon with back up. Merrick made quick work pulling the rope off your hands. You gave them a moment to roll them out before beginning on Merricks ties. They were untied enough for him to shimmy the rope off but you were yanked into the room by the waist before you could assist him further.

You’d retell the story with what you’d call more than a dozen federation soldiers surrounding the two of you. One holding your legs off the ground, vest to vest. Another soldier retying your wrists together while the rest had their guns pointed. Struggling was getting pointless. A quick glance to Merrick and it seemed he was in a worse position. Pushed to his knees and having life punched out of his gut.

You followed suit, being pushed to your knees by a grip in your hair. The soldier in front of you lingered in this position, enjoying the view more than anything. If there weren’t so many soldiers posted, you could’ve sworn that man would have a world record for the quicked murder.

“She’s a fiery one huh.” There was that voice again, you should have suspected it was him all along.

“Rorke.” Merrick's voice was gravelly, an evolved stage from the angered yelling to something further.

“Vi Ra Go,” Every single time. Each syllable paired with an indolent step, his gaze never faulting from you. He didn’t want to acknowledge the man he once called friend beside you.

“So we finally meet. The woman they sent to fill my void.” The word ‘woman’ was spat out with a misogynistic type of venom. A discreet disgust painting his features until his eyes started to wander down. His eyebrows raised shamelessly.

“I tell you what, they don’t make soldiers like you in the federation.” His hand gripped your jaw. Resisting the urge to give him any satisfaction of a reaction, you stared past his head. He only relished in it more, with a thumb running up the skin of your neck. “Many of my men have your photo on their wall but to have the whole thing here is something else huh.”

The soldiers in the room started to holler and you could’ve sworn you felt bile being sent up your throat. You’d had comments like this before, about being a woman in the force but this man was something else and Merrick had had enough of it.

“Enough of this Rorke.” His roar rippled through the room and finally Rorke released his grip on your chin. Head dropping immediately - if not to stop it from cramping in your neck, then to hide the tear you fought hard to stop welling. Fuck him for making you feel weak. Fuck all of them.

“You know what they did to me sweetheart?” Still he refused to acknowledge the man next to you. You kept your head down.

“I know you killed Ajax, that’s all I need to know.”

“They left me to die. I’ve sat through things that’ll make your little limbs fall off darling.” He moved behind you, left hand situated on your neck, right hand on Merrick’s. Two soldiers accompanied your fronts. “Your whole team isn’t even here for you, darling. Where’s your quiet friend?”

His grip on your neck guiding you to face him. His eyes anticipated more than he was going to get.

Warm spit and a fuck you.

The last thing you saw was an unimpressed Rorke wiping his face with a palm before a fist connected to your stomach.

“Bitch!” He spat. Jolted his head to the door and before you knew it, you were being dragged out the door by two soldiers. “I bet it doesn't take much to make her scream! As for you-”

“Virago!” Merrick roared before Rorke's frame covered your sight. The further you were dragged away, the less you could make out of blunt objects connecting themselves to his frame.

The two soldiers carrying you shared a couple words, bringing you back to the foyer. And for what felt like hours, one held your head up by the hair while the other had his crack leaving bruises that’ll take at least a month to heal.

Then finally relief.

Black.

#cod #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #hesh #david hesh walker #hesh walker #hesh walker x reader #hesh walker x you #logan walker #keegan russ #thomas merrick

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 7 months

Text

How to Plant Snapdragons (pt. 4)

Task Force141 + König + Keegan x Female Criminal!Reader (except Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Captain Price confronts you but he ends up wanting to cut off his eardrums instead.

You are currently reading Chapter 4. Here is Chapter 3 and the Masterlist!

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language, Mentions of violence and smut (if you squint) WORD COUNT 3.1K

Your forehead was planted on the wall before you, slanting your whole body underneath the running shower. Warm water unraveled your skin and you watched the drops fall to the white tiles beneath you, eyes following the flow until the drain.

Then your eyes shifted to the annoying fucking beeping monitor around your ankle. It beeped and lit repeatedly, as though mocking you that you had nowhere to go and the bald eagle had his shackles on you.

You grumbled, raking your fingers on your wet locks and pulled. "Fuck you, Shepherd. I hope your pinky toe hits a table and you die in pain!" You exclaimed, throwing punches in the air until you extended too far and slammed your fist on the wall.

You whimpered in pain and held your hand, crouching down on the floor. "Ah, shit. You fucking dumbass," you cursed at yourself.

You winced as your knuckles throb. You gazed at it, furrowing your brows and scrunching your nose at its redness. It didn't look like you broke a bone, but they surely would bruise later.

You sighed at your stupidity and remained crouching on the floor, eyeing the fallen strands of your hair coiled on your toes.

Was it necessary for Shepherd to humiliate you in front of the Task Force? Then again, your decency had long been thrown to the sewers and never to be seen again. Eh, maybe the scary fucking shit of a clown was taking care of your decency while he was taking a bath with the water mixed with piss and diarrhea from people's toilets in those canals, just like how he took care of children.

Not.

The General was merely a sadistic son of Gollum with a God complex. Seemingly a good guy but would throw his soldiers on the battlefield like chess pawns and replaceable toys he had gotten on Target on a Tuesday night in a bob cut wig, a cow onesie, and platform heels while taking a swig from the bottle of Bourbon he stole from the shelves.

Then, he’d play with them like a kid throwing toy tanks around, an awful whirring sound coming out of his throat like a goat going 'BLEEEEEEEAAAUGHHHH RATATATATA RATATATA!' as gun noises, lining up his green plastic soldiers like from Toy Story to go on war with Barbies and dinosaurs he stole from his neighbors.

Then, on his prissy little walk, he found another toy on the road.

You.

The bitch-ass scoundrel of an egghead caught you, only to throw you out and let his lap dog handle you (at least, his dog was better).

You were sure Gaz had noticed your hands and Soap had felt the way you shuddered earlier today. Price had kept his gaze on Shepherd, eyes narrowing the whole time, and Ghost, with the way he went around the table so he could observe every inch of you.

It would be more surprising if these people said to be dangerous as hell, failed to notice your stiffness the whole time you talked with the old man.

But that was the plan.

You wiggled your toes to remove the hair and stood up, a smile appearing on your lips as thoughts hit your mind.

You began to remember some scenes in BL manhwas you had read before, specifically taking place in the shower, where the top would be running his hand on the bottom's thighs and—

And . . .

AND YOUR FREAKING DRAWINGS WERE IN PRICE'S OFFICE!

You turned the shower off. "Shit." You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around you. "Shit, shit!" You hauled another towel and wrapped it on your head.

You rushed out of the bathroom, almost slipping on the floor because of the water droplets, then padded towards your closet. You only had a few pairs of clothes with you, most of them were bought by Kate when she was looking after you.

You slipped on a hoodie that you had to fight Laswell to let you bring and cargo pants, but the ankle monitor was a bitch and wouldn't let you tuck in your pants. In the end, you just folded up the hem of the pants above the monitor and did the same to the other.

If only you weren't going to the Captain's office, you would have worn shorts that you were required to wear for physical training. But rules were equally a bitch and you weren't allowed to do it. Because bruh, they didn't know the struggles of someone with a bigass ankle monitor that would go wee-woo wee-woo! like goddamn ambulance whenever you set foot outside the building without Soap slamming on you as if you were in a bloody wrestling match.

But then again, people here weren't criminals (or maybe they had already committed a crime, but no one caught them doing it), and you had no right to complain about how things go.

You slammed the door open and screamed at the person before you. "Jesus!" Before you knew it, your palm planted on the person's face, making them stumble back upon impact. Only when a hat landed on your feet and the person brought their hand to their cheek, did you realize it was Price, who stared at you with an open mouth and wide eyes.

"AAAAAAAAAAAA—" You dropped to your knees and clasped your hands. "Oh my god, sir, captain, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried and dipped your head low. "Please, don't bring me back to Shepherd!"

"That's not . . ." His low voice trailed off as he gazed down at you, frowning at how you didn't even hesitate to kneel before him, as though you had done this before.

What the fuck did Shepherd do to you?

He sighed and reached down to you. "Get up, young lady—"

"Didn't know ye were into havin' someone on their knees before ye, sir," a deep voice in a thick Scottish accent echoes from the hallway.

You and Price turned to where the voice came from, and in a blink, the captain dashed towards the sergeant, giving him a good knee on the stomach.

A couple of flashes went off as Soap coughed in pain. Behind him, Gaz and Ghost had their phones out.

Aye, ladies and gentlemen, the dangers to be reckoned with, Task Force 141!

You cupped a hand beside your mouth and shouted, "Well fucking deserved, macrooster!"

"Hah?!" Soap whipped his head in your way, eyes bulging out. "What'd ya call me?!"

"I said, do better, Mactavish!”

"That's not what ya said!"

“Why are you three here?” Price questioned, pulling Soap back up to his feet.

“We’re going to ask her to play Uno with us,” Gaz answered, walking past them and sauntering towards you. You flashed him a soft smile, which he returned and extended a hand to you. You grabbed the Captain’s hat by your feet and clasped Gaz’s hand, letting him pull you up as though you weighed nothing. You put Price’s hat on him, tilting it down to hide his eyes, making a low laugh leave his lips. “C’mon now, hun.”

Ey, wadafak?

Did this guy—dead-ass beautiful guy, who was definitely the Captain’s favorite son, one who still hadn’t strangled the shit out of you, which you wished he would do already so you could feel his thighs and biceps and pecs—called you hun? Oh, you’d suck his dick right now, leave kisses on every inch of his body like your life depended on it, moan his name, and let him have you in the way he wanted until all the walls were white.

But that would be bad. Real bad. Because: One, Shepherd would lock you up again. Two, Shepherd would paint the room red with your blood. Three, you’d be Phillip Grave’s slave again. Four . . . 141 would hate you.

You were used to being told flattering words and getting cat-called, and most of the time, it didn’t end well. For them.

But Gaz, well, he could get away with it, and Soap.

Price raised a brow. “Where’d you get . . .”

“Confiscated it from the rookies.” Soap rubbed his stomach and frowned at the reddened spot shaped like a hand on the older man’s cheek. “What happened to yer face, Cap’n?”

You averted your gaze, which Gaz noticed as he fixed the hat on his head. A small smirk appeared on his lips, knowingly eyeing you.

"Nothing." Price cleared his throat and marched back to you, followed by Soap and Ghost, who you realized was holding a small cardboard box.

Was that filled with Uno cards they confiscated or something?

Pushing the thought back, you looked up at the Captain. "Uh, I apologize, sir, but may I ask what brings you here?"

"I want to have a word with you," he replied immediately, causing his soldiers to raise their brows in question. "Preferably in private." He nodded at the dark, empty hallway behind him.

“Oh, if that’s an order coming from you sir,” you nodded, “then of course.”

Price shook his head. “Not an order, but I deem it more important.”

You calmly nodded, keeping your eyes at the intensity of his gaze. “Of course, sir.”

Price turned to the rest of his team and patted Soap’s shoulder. “You can play Uno later. I won’t keep her too long.” With that, he glanced at you as a sign to follow him and marched away.

You shot a smile at the three, before jogging after the Captain. He kept a steady pace, not fast to let you keep up with his big steps yet not slow, so it wouldn’t take long to where he wanted to lead you which was definitely not his office. Only your footfalls could be heard in the hallway, whereas in the daytime, it was usually bustling with soldiers. You stared at his broad back and heaved out a sigh. Somewhat, you had a feeling of what the conversation would be.

“Frankly, I don’t trust you,” he said, deep voice echoing in the hallway along with your footsteps.

You couldn’t help but smile at his back. Goddamn, straight to the point.

“We do not know where you’re from, you have a criminal record, and we’re not sure why Shepherd put you in my Task Force.” He halted before a door, turning to you in a blink that you almost bumped into him if you hadn’t reacted fast enough. “But there must be a reason why he called you a ‘tool’.”

You pursed your lips, sighing again. You shook your head and met him directly in the eyes. “I’ll also be frank, sir. I hate being called a ‘tool’. I am human, just like the rest of you, although I may be different from the kind of people you were used to being around. I can’t blame you for being suspicious and untrustworthy. But I assure you, I am here to work.”

His eyes narrowed. “Work?” He repeated. “Work for Shepherd as his spy? Work to foil our missions? Work to assassinate the Task Force?”

You simply stared at him. “No, sir. I’m here to help you.”

“Oh, but the Task Force is enough without you,” he said, watching your unwavering gaze. During the past week, he had observed you from the sidelines, not getting as close as the three did but still laughed along with the rest of you at the right times. Your laid-back demeanor, smiles and laughs seemed genuine, yet he couldn’t see what your eyes had beheld and couldn’t discern what circles in your mind. But he was sure of one thing, those weren't the eyes of a mere criminal.

“I . . . I mean, if we do the math, five is better than four in quantity—but I guess, you’re talking about quality and yeah, I’ve heard enough stories about why Task Force 141 is dangerous,” you rambled, shrugging.

He almost pulled a face had he not remembered this was technically an interrogation. Why on earth were you talking about math?

He leaned down a bit. “If I happen to know you’re here to bring harm to us, I’m telling you now,” he paused and pointed at you, “you’ll wish you’re dead.”

He then swiftly turned and opened the door, a range welcoming your sight.

You had heard of threats like that a few times before. It was certainly overused, but it never got old, because either it became true or it became a laughable warning to those who couldn’t make it true.

You had heard Shepherd and Graves state that while you were on a chair, hands, and ankles bound in chains on a chair in the middle of a small, dimly lit room with roaches and spiders partying around. You could remember the screws, pliers, and other tools scattered on the floor, creating clangs each time they were dropped, splattering blood on the floor. And every time they did, all they could hear after was a wheezy laugh from your lips, commenting on how cheap they were to use those tools.

But this time, you couldn’t laugh.

Because this man just let you stand before him and let you walk behind him as if he didn’t even consider you could stab him in the back. He didn’t back away when he had a pocket knife peeking out of his pockets that you could simply grab and drive to his throat, then go for the rest of his team.

It should have been laughable, and yet, you admired him for not keeping you restrained for not knowing what you knew and could do. You admired him for being head-on, instead of making you hear a bland-ass monologue that could make you sleepy like some kid.

You admired him for his words that meant he'd kill for the safety of Gaz, Soap, and Ghost.

Now this was a gamble you were willing to take on.

“By the way, sir,” you followed him in, “are you going to make me your target? I don’t think I can dodge all the bullets you’re going to fire at me.

He pulled a face, his nose scrunching. “No.”

“Are we having a competition? I like competitions.”

“. . . No.”

“I thought you said this won’t take long, sir. It’s been eight minutes and forty-nine seconds, fifty seconds, fifty-one—”

For the first time in his life, Jonathan Price wanted to slam his head on a concrete.

The plane descended on the runway and brought harsh, cold winds slashing in every direction, beating the falling snow out of the way.

You sat on the hood of the jeep Price used to bring the group, feet swinging back and forth and watching the plane turn. You gathered your hair in a couple of French braids, before tying them into a bun. You had worn a headset, given by Captain Price, but that wasn't enough to keep your ears from the cold, unlike the rest of your body covered in layers of thick clothes, but still light enough to move around swiftly.

You kept your gloved hands in the pocket of your jacket, pursing your lips as the blades of the plane came to a stop. A stair was placed in front of the door before it slid open and a familiar man climbed down.

Phillip Graves, the Shadow himself.

Blond hair parted from the left as usual, but instead of a shirt, he had worn a jacket under his vest to fight off the cold. He still had the fucking collar microphone thing around his neck, though. Like a good dog.

Price walked forward, meeting the commander halfway, and extended a gloved hand towards him. "Graves, good to work with you again."

"Likewise, Captain." Phillip gave his hand a shake, before quickly taking his own back, and shot a glance at you. "Hope someone isn't making your life a living hell."

Price chuckled, his breath coming out as white puffs. "No, not really."

"Well, don't expect it to last." The Shadow scoffed and walked over to your direction with the Captain. Without batting an eye this time, he greeted the Sergeants and Lieutenant, shaking their hands, patting their shoulders as though they were brothers-in-arms.

You huffed at the friendly smile on his face, kind of glad to have a new person (not really) to annoy around, and shifted your gaze at the men in black following out of the chopper.

You grinned, eyes turning crescent, but just as you hopped down from the hood to run towards them, a hand grabbed your arm. You faced Ghost, who stared at you in silence, but that was enough to tell what he wanted to say. "I'm just going to greet the Shadows," you said.

"I don't think they like to talk with ya," Ghost claimed, his eyes shifting to the contractors who all remained standing at the bottom of the stairs. He let go of you. Or maybe, they didn't want him to talk to them. Could be both, though.

"Your sinister face is enough to greet them," Phillip declared, swiveling to you with a serious face.

You turned, mirroring his expression. "Nice to see you too, Phillip," you responded and raked your eyes from his face and down to his boots. You painted a smile on your face, bringing your gaze up to his face. "Have you been working out? It seems you've gotten bigger." You stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. "Can't wait to have you under me again."

The Task Force and Graves simultaneously furrowed their brows upon hearing your words, a question going in their brains. Wadafak?

Soap couldn't help but stare at your condescending smirk with his lips slightly parted in disbelief. What the actual fucking fuckity fuck? Did he hear that right? Did you actually shag this American? Well, not that he was concerned, but it seemed you didn't have a good relationship with him considering the way you tensed up before Shepherd and Graves' mere pictures back at the meeting a couple of days ago. Wait—were you actually into Graves instead but the man was so devoted to the General and you hated that? Bloody steaming Jesus.

Graves shook off your hand and stepped away, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t touch me."

"Okay." You backed away to Ghost's side, waving a hand and pulling a face. "Sensitive."

"Are we boarding the same vehicle?" Gaz questioned, turning the attention to him.

"Yes, General Shepherd said it would be better if we discuss the mission more thoroughly," Graves immediately answered, gesturing at the plane. "Currently, one of mine is piloting it.”

"Good," Price nodded in acknowledgment and walked away. "Let's get going, 141."

It was nice to hear him refer to you as part of the group, but you knew it was just a facade he decided to keep after the gamble you took a couple of nights ago.

And he made one thing clear, share the prize or pay the price.

The Chapter 5 is here!

You can also read the series on AO3 here!

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride, @sae1kie, @sarahedwards16

Note: EARLY UPDATE FOR Y'ALL CUZ IT'S MY BDAY!!! Ngl, I'd let Gaz rail me because it's Gaz (look at Elliot Knight, guys, man's fucking beautiful). Also, we're adding Keegan.

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