First chapter of Phillip Graves x fem!OC "Shadow-1 Goes Dark" is available on AO3 and here press here to read
In my blog you can find Ghost and Phillip Graves content and posts!
You can request Ghost / Soap / Graves works, headcanons with your prompts or with your suggestions.
Include all the details you'd want to see in the work for your request. If you don't mention if you want (male, gn or female) reader, I will write fem!reader.
It will take me some time to get back to you about your request and post the work, but I am trying as hard as I can to do it faster.
I am TRYING to keep them IN character but sometimes they can be quite OOC, but it's fiction so let's just have fun!
Hey love, hope all is well and love your blog. Could you do a request where Simon Ghost Riley is married to the reader who is Price's sister and Graves finds out and uses her against them please???
Stinging Betrayal
Fem!Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley
cw: swearing, violence, guns, kissing, betrayal, murder, blood, gore
word count: 3.7k
situation: Your brother went missing leaving you behind, but soon enough fate brought you back together. It reunited you with your brother, introduced you to your husband and pushed you into corporate military affairs...
author's note: i didn't disappear!! i'm still here still kicking :D
Growing up in a family full of soldiers wasn't easy, but at least it gave you no other choice but to follow in their footsteps. John, your older brother, had to take care of you both after your parents didn't come back from deployment.
When you finally turned 18, John told you that from now on, you both would tend to yourselves. He was leaving for military service the next day and didn't leave any room for arguments. You had a roof over your head; you simply needed a job to make sure you stayed alive.
You lasted for a couple of years, working retail, fast food, and whatever else jobs you could get. Nothing ever brought you anything but the feeling of emptiness and anger. You had trouble at work, lashing out at clients and even spilling drinks into their faces when they tried to cross a line.
You tried to live a normal life, getting letters from your brother about his well-being and what else. He always kept them brief, though. As if he didn't want to share the military part of his life with you. You understood that, though. It's how your parents lost their lives, he was just being an older brother. You were grateful, but since it was his words that now you were on your own, you also made your decision about your future.
You went ahead and signed up for the military too.
And so your path began. No matter how many times they tried to break your spirit, extinguish your fire, no one succeeded. Years went on, and the letters from your brother stopped soon after you joined your branch. Was it a big deal? For you back at home, coming from a miserable shift - probably yes. Now, the you who knew 19 ways to kill a man with his shoelaces, not really.
If he didn't want to stay in touch, you wouldn't force him. Maybe he was dead, for all you knew. Even then they'd notify the family, and since you didn't receive a letter you already once read, he simply forgot about you. Or maybe he didn't put you down as family, lying about having no one.
All these thoughts visited you from time to time, especially at night, when you were on a mission somewhere far away from home.
Moving up a rank solved both of your issues at the same time.
Moving up a rank with an amount of missions done and deployments undergone, gifted you attention of a particular army General.
General Shepherd was visiting your base with an annual report visit and the number of accomplishments you had made had him look at your file twice. It was a common thing, he checked the files of the most successful and least successful soldiers at the base to make sure the training and education they were receiving there was up to standard.
"Who's this?" General asked your commander, after skimming over your track record.
"Y/N Price, sir. Rumour has it she comes from a legacy, but she doesn't share. Holds the base record in multiple physical exercises and performs well in different distance combat."
"Well isn't that something, Commander?" General mused, as he flipped to another page with your picture attached.
Soon after, you received an official order of transfer to an elite task force. When you received those papers you were away on deployment, so the paper came into your hands months after it was issued.
The thought of moving up warmed your heart, after all, what if not that was the highest compliment in the army? So with a warm heart, you faced the transfer.
You were moved to another side of the country, having to say goodbye to your fellows and the facilities you knew so well after so many years there. But you didn't lower your head, you faced the change head high.
You weren't expecting that meeting with your new task force would end up in almost a disaster. General was present, which was unusual, at least to your knowledge. The meeting was taking place at your new base, where you will be spending however many years of your life.
"They are just coming over from a mission debriefing." General smiled at you, when he saw you glancing at the clock in the room, seeing that the men were not really in a hurry.
But you didn't get to reply as the doors opened, revealing one after another. You've heard about them, or at least you've heard the stories and gossip that went around your old base about those whom you were now facing.
John "Soap" MacTavish, had the same name as your older brother, what a coincidence. But he was nothing like your brother looks wise, he bore a mohawk on his head and a wide smile on his face. Once he saw you, he stopped mid-word, most likely not expecting their addition to be a woman. Or maybe he saw something else, who could tell?
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, was it intentional that his callsign meant gas in Russian? He was lean, but you've heard stories about his stealth and strength, he looked kinder than he was. Not bad looking either, but you weren't there for their looks, you had to make sure that you could trust them with your life. He probably thought the same, as his eyes went up and down, before settling on your vest.
Then there he was, Simon "Ghost" Riley. You've heard the most about him and if you were honest he intrigued you the most. A man of mystery, loneliness, and stealth. There was something special about him, the way he worked, the way he talked, and the way he looked at you. You could only see his eyes, the rest of his face was covered by a skull mask, but even then you could tell - he was curious too.
Before you could turn your eyes to the last member of the group, you heard a familiar rasp.
"Y/N?"
And there he was, Captain John Price. A man who left you years ago, to tend for yourself and dived headlong into the military life, forgetting about his little sister.
"Do you know one another?" General asked, raising an eyebrow at John's look. He paled and looked like he saw a Ghost, which was funny because Ghost was standing on his left.
"No."
"No, sir."
Both of you spoke simultaneously. You did not know the man standing across the room from you. He might have the same name as your brother, but this man was not the one you once knew. He was not your caring big brother who made sure you had food, clothes, and warmth. This man left you alone in the world where you only had him. This was not your brother, this was Captain John Price, the man you answered to now.
"Interesting." General mused, before continuing. "Anyway, let's make this quick, we all have our jobs to do. Meet Y/N Price, from this moment on, she is a permanent part of your task force. Her record speaks for itself, if any of you had doubts about her being here. Remember that you are a team, one doubt can cost you all your lives."
"Understood, General. Anything else?" The captain spoke, truly wanting to be done with this once and for all.
"No, that's all. In a couple of days, you should receive the information we talked about. Urgent matters that need to be taken care of. I trust you to brief Y/N and act like adults." General Shepherd nodded, leaving a small parting word.
The room was cast in silence for all of a minute, before Soap was there shaking your hand, welcoming you to the team. Next was Kyle, with his voice weirdly lowered as he spoke. Ghost only gave you a nod, well, at least that's something. While John watched you like a hunter watched his prey.
"Can I get a moment with Sergeant Price?" He spoke, interrupting the chatter of Soap and Gaz about who got the best deal by having their room next to yours.
"Sure thing, Captain." Soap said, patting you on the shoulder "Welcome to the team, Discount."
The look you gave him at the name was angry enough to make him take a step back.
"You are the second Price on the team, the second price on the item is always a discount. Sorry, lass." Soap smiled at you, while you didn't miss an eyeroll from Ghost.
"Thanks." Was all you said to finally get rid of him and his humour. You were happier to face your brother than keep listening to this.
The room cleared out, as you finally faced your brother, after all those years there he was, standing in front of you safe and sound. So it was indeed a choice to stop the letters.
"What are you doing here?" He spoke, his hands gripping the chair by the table between the two of you.
"Doing my job, on a multi-year contract. What about you? Avoiding pen and paper?" You couldn't help but remark, the topic was hurting you still.
"Y/N. I wanted you to build a life for yourself without depending on me. I also didn't want to worry you in case... In case I end up like our parents." He sighed, for a moment his face was painted with genuine remorse and you almost believed him, but logic prevails.
"So you made me believe something happened to you anyway? When your letters stopped I was waiting for the letter we received about our parents. Then I remembered the way you left, and it made sense to me that you never put me as your contact, so I'd never get the letter if you did die." You spoke, the words spilling from your lips with you not being able to contain them.
He was silent for a long moment, his moustache moving as he thought. He looked older, wiser, and more mature. Yet he acted like a stupid kid. What a reunion, you thought.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought you would be better without me. I watched how their relationship regressed, how Dad became so full of anger. She remained the kindest person I knew, while he grew resentful. What happens here changes people and I hated the idea of becoming such a person to you, to kill your kindness." His words made sense, and the way he avoided your eyes made sense if he was feeling guilty, but alas, it was too late. Your kindness was gone when you were left to tend for yourself and thrown into life without a safety net.
"Thanks. Are you done?" You kept a straight face, the emotion you bottled up and away years ago was threatening to come back to the surface and you'd hate to be written up on the first day in a new team for breaking their Captain's nose.
The conversation wasn't too fruitful, but since then both of you have come a long way. Sometimes after you came clean about Price being your brother, the details of your separation were kept under wraps anyway.
Time passed, you were working with a new team and you quite liked working with them. Especially with Ghost or how you liked to call him - Riley. He was quiet, straight to the point, and a great soldier, you could see why he made Lieutenant faster than others on the task force.
You watched him execute his skills and one day he saw you in the gym, you exchanged three words and he agreed to show you what he knows. To say you were excited was to say nothing, the Simon Riley whom everyone talked about, was training you.
That's what made you both close, training together and not letting Johnny in on your sessions. One day you realised that you were excited to see him not because of training, but because of him. Later, it turned out he felt the same. It was a long road to get there, but when things get risky during missions, it tends to spike all the right hormones to finally admit why exactly he got scared that something happened to you.
You trained, you dated, you slept in one room and it didn't take too long for your surname to change. Like Ghost dryly joked - soon there were going to be two Lt. Ryleys on the team and he preferred that to having two Prices.
He wasn't wrong, your promotion wasn't too far away, after all your record with the force became only more impressive. You were in the lead, showed initiative, and your impressive skills.
You were even respectful with a new addition to the team. Commander Graves was introduced by General Shepherd, highlighting how great an asset Graves is, especially abroad. He owned a private military company and from a professional side, you had nothing but respect for him, as it was quite an achievement to build a company as such.
You went on several missions together, and he provided air support in countries where you couldn't get your own. He was a great asset, indeed, and so another mission was coming up on the calendar, involving Graves.
It was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing you haven't done before. Land, clean out the house, retrieve the documents, and leave. You were the breacher and the first line of the offence, while Ghost was tucked away with his beloved sniper rifle. Soap with Gaz were right behind you, followed by Price.
You worked like a mechanism, a system has been put in place for all of you to follow and be comfortable with it. So when you hopped off the helicopter onto the dry grass, you went on with your usual routine.
Taking your places and letting one another know you are ready to move in, your gut was silent, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. Your hands were steady, holding the weapon tightly. You moved through the grass, stepping over small bushes that surrounded a warehouse you were sent to clean.
Voices came from the inside, the walls too thick to understand what was being spoken, but it also didn't matter. You had a job and you needed to do it. Breaking the window, in went the smoke grenade. You quickly got the door open, stepping inside and facing the gunfire that rained upon you. It was all routine, things you all have done thousands of times.
Yet when you almost tripped over one of the fallen men, you noticed the uniform, the clothes.
The familiar green, the name patches with the exact same font as you once had when you just joined the service. Those were soldiers from the UK, not the men you were sent in to kill. Blood chilled in your veins, as you realised that something had gone horribly wrong.
You turned to Soap, opened your mouth to relay the information to him, but the sharp pain on the back of your head stopped any sounds from coming out. The next moment your vision went black and then your head hit the floor.
Waking up was painful, to say the least.
You felt your hands immobilised immediately, that was the first sense of your body you got back. The dim light was flashing, making you open and close your eyes right back up. You'll deal with that light later.
"Wake up, soldier." Or not.
You opened your eyes to a familiar face staring back at you. His light hair and blue eyes were making all the ladies salivate, but in this moment you felt a sharp knife slide into your back.
"Good morning, Sergeant. Hope your nap was productive." Graves spoke, as he held his rifle against his shoulder, watching you with a face of indifference.
"What the fuck, Graves?" You spoke, your voice raspy. Jesus, how long were you out?
"Orders from above. Can't help but execute, darlin'." He slowly walked back and forth in front of you, as if he were on his morning stroll, not keeping his ally hostage.
"Orders to capture me? Orders to kill our own? The fuck do you mean? Explain yourself." You demanded from him, what did this mean? You went against your own people, and now he held you in what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Who gave those orders? Nothing made sense.
He slowly looked back at you, grabbing his rifle tighter and taking a step closer to you. The tip of the rifle was suddenly pressed under your chin, the cold weapon against your skin.
"I don't owe you shit, but consider this my last present, Y/N." He was not planning on letting you out of here alive. You put the thought of that in the back of your mind, trying to keep calm and assess the situation before you started panicking.
"Entertain me." You spoke, crossing one leg over another. Hm, he surprisingly left your legs free.
"You see, a group of your own beloved soldiers went rogue. During the latest mission, they stole a vehicle and disappeared. Shadow Company has been actively working for the past months to locate them. It's obvious that they left knowing things they weren't supposed to, so a decision was made. They had to be wiped out." Graves spoke, a small smile on his lips as if he was proud to hear himself talk.
"How does it end with me handcuffed to a chair in a warehouse?" You spoke flatly. This didn't make sense.
"If you let me finish, I might get to that." He smiled sweetly and swung his rifle way too close to your face. "Obviously we needed someone to do the job quietly. We chose the best to handle it, yet the news of the brutal murder of the British soldiers spread across the world. Now the people from above demand an investigation and while we handed your friends off to the investigators, they themselves fled. So now, it's either your life or they give themselves up."
The silence settled between you two, as the only sound in the room was rusty water dripping in the corner. Your ears filled with the drumming of your heart, your eyes filled with red as the anger was tingling under your skin.
"I thought you'd appreciate such a scheme. A shame you'll have to meet your friends underground. Six feet under, or however deep they will dig for ya." Graves tilted his head, contemplating your coming end.
It looked like you truly were helpless. The metal chair was bolted to the ground, the handcuffs kept your hands in place and since the chair was bolted your legs being free didn't do much. He really thought of everything.
In the distance, a door creaked. Graves immediately turned to the source of the sound, his rifle battle-ready in his hands.
"Stay here, oh wait." He joked with a flat face, before gesturing for someone behind you and moving out of the room. Two soldiers who stood behind you the entire time followed him out. Someone was here.
You tried to move your hands, but the handcuffs would not give in. Maybe you could somehow slide off or break the back of the chair. But after trying it, you understood that your only option was to sit there and wait, and if you were caught in the middle of crossfire - hope for the bullets to avoid you.
Suddenly, a hand came over your mouth from behind you, muffling a grunt of surprise you let out. You looked up, your shoulders lowering as you saw familiar eyes under a familiar mask. Ghost, true to his name, was here.
"Shh, stay quiet." He whispered, his mask muffling his words, as he made quick work of your handcuffs, making sure the metal didn't clank on the ground, before grabbing your hand and tugging you with him.
He shoved a gun into your hand, making sure you were ready for any fight that could come your way. Moving on pure adrenaline you didn't even notice your legs barely listening to you. How long did you spend in that chair?
Ghost moved with precision, surely going the way he came in, knowing it was free of enemies. He was on alert, but it was either a tactical mistake he wanted to make on purpose or he didn't even think about it, but he kept leading you out, holding your hand, and not letting go even if you tried to free it.
You couldn't read his thoughts but you yourself were pretty damn happy to have him back near you and not six feet under. He must've felt the same.
Not saying another word, he pushed a heavy metal door open, letting the outside air hit you in the face. God, how good it felt to breathe fresh air again. You weren't going to take it for granted anymore.
Ghost sped up, making you both run through the grass, bushes, and into the trees. The darkness outside hid you both from whoever prowled around.
He led you through the trees, further away, before suddenly stopping and turning to face you. He let go of your hand and put his gun back into the holster, his hands coming to his mask and tugging it off, his balaclava coming off right after it.
You have been married for years, you have seen him without his mask plenty but even then every time he took it off it made your heart jump a little. He trusted you. Wholeheartedly.
He threw the materials to the ground, and as you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing, the man grabbed your face with his calloused hands before he kissed you. The hungry, fiery kiss that showed you just how much you worried him. How scared he was to be apart from you, how scared he was to think what could happen to you in the hands of the enemy. The sloppy colour around his eyes showed you how quickly he got ready once he got the signal to come here.
He kissed you like a starved man and he was not afraid of anyone or anything getting close to you ever again. He let you slip through his fingers once and he was not going to do it ever again.
Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you could do one where fem!reader takes a bullet (nonfatal) for Ghost?
Gut Feeling
Fem!Reader!Lt x Simon "Ghost" Riley
cw: blood, gore, violence, swearing, injury, guns, threatening, kinda dark but romantic?
word count: 3.3k
situation: You lead your team into a mission with a bad feeling. You understand that you should've listened to your gut, now that it's pierced with a bullet meant for Ghost.
author's note: two and a half years later :D let this be the start of a general comeback
This mission was a failure. Not yet, technically, you haven’t even left the base yet, but the gut feeling you’ve been having the entire day was setting your mood down. You’ve gone to the gym, worked out until your sweat was burning your eyes, went over the mission plans with the task force once more and even then, something was still not right.
You were leading this operation; this wasn’t the first time, but you weren’t yet used to the leading position. Before, you’ve been on Task Force 141 with Soap, Ghost, Price and Gaz, but since you learned and gained experience, you were put in the lead of several newcomers.
While 141 kept the top-secret and of utmost urgency missions, the rest were entrusted to you and your task force. You were at the head of the table, you were the leader, the strategist and the brain of the operation. The other guys with you were too unseasoned to give them too much control just yet. Obviously, they’ve had their years of training and military experience, but not on the level of mastery that was expected from you.
You trusted them, and they trusted you; after all, you all had each other's lives in your hands. Quite literally. One wrong move, one wrong word and one or all of you could come back to the base in a vehicle stacked on top of one another.
That’s why you were sitting in the tactical room, staring at the board that was filled with building plans and the maps of the territory. The photos of possible enemies, together with the items you had to retrieve, were pinned at the very top. After all, you lived by the saying that you had to keep your friends close but enemies closer. It’s you against them, one will keep on living while the other will be sent to be worm food six feet under.
“Y/N, always so sceptical, you shouldn’t worry.” You heard Soap’s voice behind you.
You were so in your thoughts, you didn’t even hear him come in; that’s a bad sign if you ever saw one. You turned around, seeing Soap’s face, but felt the heavy gaze on your back. Ghost was also here, standing by the door, his arms crossed on his chest. Not a sound, he was a master. Despite his massive build, he was the most skilled when it came to stealth. The many lessons you’ve learned came from him.
“I do not worry, Soap. I am making sure we have all grounds covered; it’s quite a territory for our numbers.” You weren’t wrong. It was a large part of the map you had to cover, and it was only 5 of you in total.
“Do you need additional support? We can shift our departure time for tomorrow morning.” Soap’s face grew more serious as he heard the concern in your voice. They had their own mission to leave for today, but they were travelling far and decided to leave with plenty of time to spare, so they could afford to stick around if needed.
“No need, we might not be done by morning. It will depend on how many are inside.” You spoke, your attention back on the map. Your opinion was never questioned; you’ve proven yourself in the years you’ve spent with them and in the military. Your file was the thickest alongside Ghost’s and just pages away from Price’s, but he had years of advantage.
“Y/N.” Not a man of many words, Simon Riley was. His saying of your name with the tone that carried everything he wanted to tell you, that maybe Soap was right, and they could spare some hours to help out, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal; they’d just need to be briefed.
“Right now, I’m not seeing any need for additional men on the ground. We have each corner covered and a sniper. Air support will be nearby, too, in case we need it. We have gone through the plan and the materials we have countless times, so I believe we will be in and out in a couple of hours, depending on how many men are inside. If we aren’t back by the time you are back, then you might start to look for us.” You spoke, your tone calm and collected, the words spoken from experience that was respected by the rest of your colleagues. A woman in a field that men dominated for many years was unusual, which only earned you more respect from these men; you could even call friends after all this time.
“Contact us in case of trouble, Y/N.” Soap patted you on the back, as he understood that you’ve got this under control, and even if you weren't feeling well about it, he knew the mission was in good hands.
Ghost, on the other hand, simply shook his head and stayed quiet. Your back was turned to him, so you couldn't see him take a step forward to see the maps better. He studied the information on the board: the targets, the locations and the enemies. He didn't answer when Soap threw him a curious glance. Soap didn't dare to question him further.
They left you with no other words as the door softly closed behind them, and you stood up. It was time to shove anxiety and gut feelings far away and ground yourself. You were not your anxiety; you were in the present moment, not thinking about what-ifs. You were a Lieutenant who served for her years and earned her rank. You weren't a young, clueless girl signing up for military service anymore; you were a Lieutenant Y/N Y/S, and tonight was one of those days.
141 left the base hours before it was your mission’s go time. You were there, watching them gather their things, wishing them a safe return. They did the same for you, well, everyone but Ghost. He watched you with a darkened expression, even if you couldn't see his face, you’ve learned to read him by his eyes. That man left you with a darn fist bump.
You didn't have time to dwell on it and instead threw yourself headfirst into your task. Going through all the plans again, as your team sat and listened to you. They all knew their moves, their locations and their plans B, C, and D. One could say you were overprepared, but that word didn't exist in your vocabulary. Failing to get ready is simply getting ready to fail, which is unacceptable to you.
The time went on, and soon enough, you found yourself in a chopper, a tactical vest strapped over your chest, your rifle in your hands. All up to this point, some mission anxiety was normal, for you, it always disappeared when you left the base and dived headfirst into the task. Yet, right now, you still felt the nagging feeling in your stomach, something green and slimy that didn't leave you alone, no matter how much you tried to shake it off.
The chopper was steady, your guys looked steady too. Their hands didn't shake, their faces were collected, and their boots were pressed to the ground. No one fidgeted, no one shook, all of it was only in your head. How stupid, you thought to yourself, and yet something was not right per your gut feeling. Thank God, I don't think with my gut; the thoughts played in your mind as you neared the mission site.
As your boots touched the ground and the sounds of the chopper disappeared far away in the air, you felt how still the forest was. Not a single leaf on the trees moved, not a single twig was snapped, and the world around you stood still. You didn't overthink; you tried not to, but such stillness was unnatural. As if something was preying upon you and your team in the dark.
You shook it off and focused your entire attention on the task, gesturing for your task force mates to proceed. You took up your own spot. The warehouse was located at the bottom of a cliff. It was hidden pretty well for people who didn't go searching for it.
Tim, the sniper, took up his spot among the trees at the very top of the cliff. He was the only one who was to stay at a distance; the rest of you were going in. The warehouse was lit from the inside; someone was surely there. You weren’t close enough just yet to hear what’s happening inside and how many people were there, a bunch just quietly hanging out or a crowd preparing for bloodshed.
You stepped closer, the leaves and whatever small twigs that covered the ground crunched under your boots. You tried to be as quiet as you could, avoiding detection and using the best stealth lessons that were taught to you by the one and only. Ghost, who basically shared with you everything that he knew once you joined the task force, as he wanted to make sure every member of the team was up to the standard. He was surprised by your record and the depth of your knowledge. He never showed it, but his focus on teaching you gave you all the information you needed.
“In position.” Through the comms came the quiet voice of Tim, then the rest of the guys confirmed their positions in your ear too.
You exhaled, grounding yourself to the best of your ability, as you scaled the target one more time. Something was off, and everything inside of you screamed about it, but you knew how to keep calm even in the worst situations possible. So you took one step, second. Then you brought your hand to your ear and spoke, “Go time.”
You didn’t need their confirmations; soon enough, your ears were exposed to gunfire. One, two, three sides were infiltrated. As you stepped closer to the doors, you watched, waiting for the inevitable, when they’d open and you would have to fire your rifle too. Yet, the doors stayed closed. You listened, there was a mix of shots, the sounds you recognised as your issued rifles and the second type that surely belonged to the enemy.
But then it hit you, there was too much. The gunfire was overwhelming, and it surely couldn’t have been caused by four people, one of whom was you and you weren’t pressing the trigger.
Things blurred around you as you understood that your team was busted. They knew you were coming and were more than prepared. You scrambled and ran to the closest teammate of yours, yet the gunfire was too close and too far at the same time, the sound echoing from the sides of the cliff, swirling around you, swallowing you whole.
“Tim? Status?” The sniper had the best point of observation; he should’ve been the one to speak first, yet nothing but silence played in your comms.
They probably knew he was there; it was quite an obvious position for a sniper, but the mission was classified, and there couldn’t possibly have been a leak. The number of people who knew about this one was too small.
You crouched as you finally came in contact with the active fire, coming in from the side. You managed to take some of them by surprise, lessening the load of your teammate, allowing him to at least reload. Yet, it was still not enough; you were severely outnumbered, and your sniper was most likely KIA. Should’ve taken the help that was offered to you, instead of thinking you could do it all on your own.
The fight went on, the gunfire rained from every corner, and you changed magazines more often than you could take a deep breath. It smelled like blood, gun powder and dirt, all of which were coating your arms and tactical gear. Was it your blood or someone else’s at this point? You couldn’t know. At one point, one of them got too close for comfort, and to work went your dear knife, which you had to clean on your clothes, coating them in even more blood.
You didn’t know how long it went on; it felt like minutes and hours at the same time. The night was dark around you, the stillness slowly returning as the gunfire died down, yet still came back in bursts to catch you off guard.
You sat behind a bunch of barrels, filled with only God knew what, as you were cut off from the rest of your teammates, not knowing if they were even alive by that point. The ringing in your ears didn’t help, as you couldn’t hear a word over the comms. They were jammed up anyways.
Holding your pistol in your hand, you slowly raised yourself and looked over the foggy and bloody ground. You could’ve sworn the Earth held its breath with you.
It was the next moment you felt a hand on your shoulder. At this point, the response was reflective: grab the arm, kick in the leg, shove to the ground. Yet this time, you didn’t get past grabbing the arm, as you saw the familiar skull mask and two familiar hands holding you in place.
“Ghost?” You were truly at a loss for words. What was he doing there? His rifle was slung over his chest, as he himself didn’t look too clean.
“It was a trap. We turned ‘round.” He grumbled, letting go of your arms and letting you take a step back.
“How are the others?” Your mind immediately went to the silence surrounding you two, as you looked around.
“Alive. Soap’s checkin’ on Eagle.” Tim’s callsign.
You opened your mouth to ask another one of many questions that popped up in your head, but all of them were silenced with a fast flash of sparkle at the top of the cliff. Top of the cliff. Flash. Sniper.
Your body moved before your brain could agree with your mind on the course of action.
“Ghost-” You called for him, as you pushed him to the ground with the rest of the force that was left in you. The tall man went stumbling to the ground, while everything else moved too fast. The world spun, the Earth and the sky changed places, and everything was upside down.
The sharp pain slashed through your whole body; the guttural grunt you let out was evidence of that. You heard another shot, a pistol shot in the distance, probably someone else on the cliff. Soap. Soap was there-
That was the last thing you thought before you felt a strong grip on your tactical vest and the ground moving under you, before the darkness took over.
The flashes of white were hurting you. Your head was pounding, your eyes were dry, and everything else felt numb or tingling or burning; you couldn’t quite decide which one felt more accurate. Were you in hell, burning in one of its circles? Surely you were at the very bottom of it, as murderers weren’t welcomed happily. What’s your kill count? You stopped counting after a hundred.
Yet, the hell you were in smelled quite familiar. The smell of disinfectant, white sheets and that nurse who doesn’t let you out until your wounds heal to perfection. This wasn’t the ninth circle of hell; this was worse. This was the hospital.
You felt the dull pain all over your body, which means you were full of painkillers. Slowly opening your eyes, you were trying to get used to the bright lights of the white hospital room. It was the hospital at the base, so it was just a couple of rooms big with a couple of doctors and nurses tending to injured soldiers.
Blinking, once, twice, you turned your head to the side to see a blurry black spot. Was your vision affected by the shot? Or was it the painkillers blurring everything? Blinking a couple of more times, the picture got clearer. Ghost was sitting in a chair a couple of feet away from your bed, his arms crossed on his chest, as his eyes were focused on you. Jeez, was he always this scary or just when you are injured and high on painkilling medication?
“How is Soap?” You asked, or at least attempted to ask. Your throat was so dry, you could barely make a sound.
Ghost quietly moved, taking a glass of water from your nightstand and handing it to you. You brought your hand up to take it, but instead, a sharp pain slashed through your entire body. The wound was truly fresh then. At least, it meant you weren’t knocked out for days with no end.
Somehow, you took the glass, avoiding the pain in your other side of your body, slowly finishing the water and finding your voice.
“How is Soap?” This time, you managed to get it out; it sounded pathetic still, but at least the sounds were coming out.
“Fine.” Ghost grumbled, his arms once again crossed on his chest. He got rid of his tactical equipment, his skull mask was off too, and only his black balaclava covered his face. His turtleneck, same colour as the balaclava, hugged his muscles just right, as he was tense and definitely didn’t come here for a friendly chat.
“Fine? Was he shot? I’ve heard a shot-” You furrowed your eyebrows, not liking the answer Lt gave you.
“He is fine. Went to get food.” Ghost was not too talkative, it seemed. Definitely not too friendly.
“I’m glad he is fine.” You said, looking down at your hospital gown and various tubes connected to your arms, sensors on your skin and the bandages all over.
When you turned back to look at Ghost and ask another one of yout questions, you almost jumped up at how close he was. He stood by your bed, leaning forward, his hand resting behind your head on the headboard of the bed, while he was waiting for your eyes to meet his, before he spoke, in a voice carrying his signature danger.
“Don’t you dare take the bullets with my name on them. He aimed for me, not you. It is not your business to take what’s mine, do you hear me?” His eyes were full of anger, blazing hot, as he watched you, unmoving.
“You make it sound like you wanted to get shot. You should be happy you aren’t the one with a torn-up limb or fucking dead.” You shot back, as you wouldn’t take such disrespect from a fellow Lieutenant. He wasn’t your boss or whatever else, to throw such things at you.
Ghost watched you, his eyes searching for that clarity on your face, trying to understand if you were serious or kidding him.
“I don’t want you to end up fucking dead, Y/S.” His tone suggested otherwise, with how much anger he carried, but you were starting to understand where it came from. The anger wasn’t directed at you, maybe just partially. He was angry that you got hurt; he probably couldn’t wait to get out there and screw whoever did it head off.
You opened your mouth to question him, to make another one of the snarky remarks or hand back the sass, but he was quicker.
Simon leaned in further, his face just inches from you, you could feel his breath on your skin and God, it felt good.
“And if you pull this shit again and die on me, I will personally drag you back from hell and kill you with my bare hands.” The words sent the shivers down your spine, because you knew… Simon Riley meant every word he said.
Do we want a Part 2 with getting to know who the shooter was, Ghost avenging you and more intimate moments? :D
will involve if continued: violence, trauma, death
word count: 1.5k
situation: Mycroft feels eyes on him everywhere he goes, is it paranoia or a ghost from the past decided to pay him a visit?
authors note: HELLO!! guess who's back after years of inactivity? :D ME!! Trying a new one, but definitely coming back to all COD themes too. Please if you like this LET ME KNOW and part 2 will be made!! Enjoy x
Mycroft was used to being the most powerful man in the room. Wherever he went, people felt the pure power seeping off of him. The way he held himself, the way he carried that power like a wallet in his pocket. People seemed to stay out of his path, even without being told to move.
Mycroft had eyes everywhere; he had all the cameras in the city under his control, and he had people in every country of the world feeding him information. He was everywhere, at all times, in any weather.
Obviously, he always denied his engagement in the British government’s affairs, yet his brother, who was considered one of the smartest people on Earth, called him The British Government. Mycroft found it hard to act normally and blend in with the commonwealth. He was treated like royalty by his colleagues, and even the Prime Minister loved spending his days off with his great friend, Mycroft.
His presence was always accompanied by at least two people, his driver and his bodyguard. He didn’t remember the last time he was at the wheel of his government-issued car or when he entered the room first, without his guard scouting the premises first. Obviously, he left his guard downstairs when he visited his little brother, but it was simply to save the poor ears of the man, to guard him from Sherlock’s nonsense.
Yet, on a rainy autumn day, it all changed. At first, it was a slight, almost unnoticeable change, a prickle on the back of his neatly shaven neck. He started turning around in the streets, feeling a heavy presence behind him, yet no one was ever there. When he sat in on the meetings, he felt like the cracks in the old wooden panels watched him too. He deduced he must have fallen ill with paranoia. For a man of his calibre, it was indeed a serious illness. How could he rule the country when he was constantly looking over his shoulder and expecting a threat from wooden panels?
The only place he felt safe was his office. The concrete walls had no cracks, and the ceiling windows were hidden well enough that no one could ever find them or see him through them, for that matter. He sat facing the door, so he would see if anyone was standing behind it or passing by. Maybe he should get a metal door done? Not a bad idea, Mycroft thought to himself.
His deductions couldn’t work on himself, or rather, the invisible threat he was imagining, or so he thought.
During the upcoming weeks, his paranoia only got worse. He added a second guard to his suite and didn’t go outside without them present. Obviously, he thought that whoever was going to attack him was utterly stupid, as he believed the attacker would never come out on top of that encounter. Yet, something kept him looking over his shoulder.
Even Sherlock, who doesn’t concern himself with his brother’s business, noticed the changes to his behaviour.
“Do tell, what lends this recent air of trepidation, brother?” Sherlock inquired once, just as Mycroft stepped into the room. John looked as confused as Mycroft to hear that question, and with a long look, he deduced that Mycroft was indeed off his game lately. His clothes weren’t as neat, his hair was just a tad bit dishevelled, as if he ran his hand through it several times on his way here.
“I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what you're referring to, brother mine,” Mycroft sneered, the dark spots under his eyes giving away the lie he just told.
“Good heavens, is it not apparent that you appear to be in a state of utter disarray, as if you've been wearing those clothes for the third time this week, and it's only Thursday, I might add?” Sherlock stood up, circling his older brother like a predator circles his prey, or in Sherlock’s case, like a detective assessing his client, “Your shoes, I daresay, are besmirched with the faintest speckles of dirt, despite the fact that the weather is remarkably dry. And, good gracious, your hair appears to be in a state of such dishevelment as if it's on the verge of making a break for it at the slightest touch of your comb.”
Mycroft held his head high even when deep down he knew his brother was right, and he hated to admit it on those rare occasions his brother was indeed in the right. So his next safest option was to turn the discussion around and switch the topic.
“I believe, Sherlock, you're simply fabricating the entire thing in your own mind, aren't you? I'm feeling quite well, thank you for inquiring after my well-being, and I must confess that I've taken the liberty of dropping by to see how you're doing, particularly because John still refuses to enlighten me about your, shall we say, state. I rather thought I'd pop in to see if you were merely indulging in a bit of subterfuge or, heaven forbid, lying in a ditch somewhere.”
“Oh, please! Don't try to change the subject. You are here because this is the only place that gives you some sort of relief, and whatever danger you are running from can't reach you here. So, please do sit down and tell us what it is that's following you around?” Sherlock finally sat down in his own chair with a dramatic swoosh of his robe. John kept standing in the doorway to the kitchen, not sure if he was needed for this conversation.
“Now that I saw for myself that you are indeed perfectly fine, brother mine, I must head to work. I have a job, you see, not something you can understand,” Mycroft completely ignored the words of his brother, turned on his heel and left the apart. Was there truth in Sherlock’s words? Absolutely. Was Mycroft going to admit it? Not a chance.
“I will see you later when you come crawling for answers!” Mycroft heard Sherlock’s dramatic attempt to disturb him, and he was thankful for almost being outside, or Sherlock might have gotten whacked on the head with an umbrella.
Yet when Mycroft stepped outside, it was a completely different world. The safety of the walls inside was no longer present around him, and when he took those steps towards the car, he felt those eyes fall on him again.
Your eyes. Your eyes were keeping him awake at night, tense at the office, and the only place you couldn’t get in without being caught was surprisingly not the government, but the apartment of Mycroft’s little brother. But considering their relationship, you weren’t concerned with Mycroft being there for too long.
You were Mycroft’s worst nightmare, and the paranoia that kept him tense at every conscious second he spent outside. He prided himself on being smarter than his brother, but he couldn’t even figure out who was watching him. You’d know if he did. He would look you up in the system, search your name in a database, and you’d get a notification of that straight away, yet there was nothing. He was oblivious to you coming back to make his life a living hell.
There was once a girl who was wronged by someone very dear to her, forcing her out of the country, out of her home and out of reach from everything she had ever loved and cared about. Now that the girl came back hungry for revenge, hungry for justice and in the instance where the justice could never be on her side, she knew she had to take matters into her own hands. Her name was Y/N, and she was on the missing persons’ list for the last 5 years.
A ghost from Mycroft’s past came to hunt him down, and he was too deep into his power play to know what was coming. You wanted his head on a stick for everyone to see, so he could feel the shame and burning hot rage that you also felt years ago when you had to flee.
Your hand was gripping the wheel to the point that your knuckles were going white. This car was cold, and the heating system was broken; you didn’t like that. Every day, you had to take a different car to make sure he didn’t see you, to make sure you blended in. If he could live his life in comfort, why couldn’t you?
For the past several weeks, you’ve been everywhere he went. Either in person or through the cameras you had installed. Your eyes were on him the entire time, and he didn’t even know it. That thought brought a great smile to your face. He deserved that and more, and you were going to make sure he got it.
Until then, you’d be his ghost, his shadow and his worst nightmare. He thought he could play with the lives of others and walk away with no consequences? Not anymore.
ghost x reader where they break up because they can’t manage their private and professional life but they realize that it is much harder without each other!!
Darkness feels warm
Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader
cw: blood, gore, angst, two possible endings, violence, swearing, guns, death
word count: 3.2k
situation: You and him worked well together, until you weren't. Will you realise that the biggest mistake was letting him go, or will it be too late for second chances?
authors note: HELLO!! guess who is back after a whole 3 months break? Me! University is slowly killing me, but I found some time and decided to write something for you all, hope you enjoy! :)
The cold air in the room shifted, as Price kept watching the man in front of him. Ghost sat in the chair, his legs spread and his hand flipping his knife. The atmosphere between the two men wasn't the warmest, making the winter air even colder. The silence was starting to irritate both of them, because both knew what they are there for, but no one wanted to start the conversation. In the end, Price gave in.
"You have to fix it, Simon." Captain said.
"I know." was all Ghost answered.
"I'm sure I don't need to remind you every time it happened, but I want you focused. I want you sharp and on alert. I want Ghost, we are not in a position to do this right now." Stern and straight to the point, usual Price.
"I said. I know." Simon gritted his teeth, that were hid under his balaclava and his mask he didn't ditch even in the room with only Price.
"Then I expect you to do something about it." was all the Captain said as he gave his Lieutenant a nod and left the room, leaving Ghost to his own thoughts.
To say simply, Ghost was getting distracted. By what? No, not what, who. Y/N was a Sergeant, the latest addition to Task Force 141, who managed to melt the ice around the heart Ghost didn't know he had. You were the fresh air the TF so desperately needed, they were used to working with each other, knew each other opinions and what is the person going to say before they opened their mouth, they knew each other too well. That was making the discussions of missions almost unbearable, they knew how it was going to go, who is going to fight who and that they will stick to their usual plan that was slowly stopping to work. They needed fresh air and that was you.
You were recruited by Price, who was intrigued by the new name that was climbing the ranks this fast with such a record. He watched you closely for months, monitored your work and spoke to your superiors. Not one said a bad word or accused you of slacking. That was when he made his final decision and offered you a place on the Task Force, which you did accept.
Working with them was a needed change foe you too. You quickly grew familiar with the men and almost immediately had the first mission together. During it you saw Ghost switching to his pistol, as he was out of bullets for his rifle. Ducking behind the cover, you made your way to him, sliding two magazines to him, as you had enough for yourself. He took them without question, as he ducked for cover to reload, while you took cover, shooting the guys heading for you two.
After the mission he came knocking on your door, telling you a simple 'thank you'. You later found out that it was a really rare occurrence from Ghost, you didn't mind it one bit.
Fast forward to present days, you two were dating for a few months now. Ghost had a hard time expressing his feelings or even just understanding them, but he made it work nevertheless. He worked on himself no matter how hard for him it was, because his thoughts often consisted of 'She deserves better. Better than me', but instead of cowering, he did work on himself, slowly but surely.
Everything was fine, until work started getting in between. Both of you are a part of TF, so both of you went to missions together. He was higher in ranks than you, and he is a bossy man, so he treated you like any other soldier on the field. You take the order and you do it. That's it.
That's how it works, you understood it, he understood it, but it was still stinging deep down in you, because just a little humanity towards you would not kill anyone, but you held it, you never voiced that out.
During one of the missions, you missed the target by a few centimetres and it did make the mission more challenging for everyone, everyone but the enemy. You got a good yelling after. From Ghost. As your Lieutenant.
After that your relationship started to take hits, you were frustrated with him, he was tense and snapped at you, it was a snowball that kept on growing. Both of you released the frustration during the nights, chasing it because both of you desperately needed comfort from each other, not frustration and snappy sarcasm. It was good during the nights, it all went back to bad during the day. That was a constant cycle of your relationship.
Ghost remained in the room for hours after Price left, flipping his knife and staring into nothing. He understood that it can't continue happening anymore, you understood it too.
December 24th, Christmas Eve, you two broke up after a heated argument. It all started because of a small misunderstanding, and grew into saying words that both of you will regret later.
Missions after that were hell. Watching him, taking orders from him, reporting to him. It all was eating at you from the inside. Looking at him brought you physical pain. The cold bed at nights was biting your skin, as you kept thinking of him laying next to you, his arms wrapped around your body. You didn't need sex, you would just give anything to have him there with you, for one last time. To enjoy his presence, his breath on your skin, his warm body pressed against yours.
A part of you was still angry with him for what he said, another part of you understood that you said the same things to him. You wanted to use work as a safety net, to have something to hold onto when you felt like drowning, but it kept sinking together with you.
You became sloppier, you ditched your part as a sniper, going onto the field with everyone. It was easier to hide sloppy shots in a sea of gunfire, than single shots as a sniper. It was easier to focus on the adrenaline pumping in your veins, than your Lieutenant yelling at you from behind to get back to the cover. It was easier to forget the baggage you carried when you had to fight for your life on the battlefield, leaving him behind.
He wasn't better. He just hid it better.
He was older, he was more experienced, he was the one who went through hell back and forth. Thrice.
He watched you closely, he didn't allow himself any affection. He had to keep his hands clutching his weapons to not caress your cheek when he was standing close to you, and you looked up to him with empty eyes, waiting for an order. He had to hold himself back from going after you and dragging you back into the cover when you recklessly went out in the field, rain of gunfire upon you.
He knew why you did it. He wanted to do the same, but he couldn't.
Next mission was simple. You all have done that many times, infiltrate the enemy warehouse, make it out alive and take what you came there for. Nothing unusual.
"All clear?" Price asked looking around the room.
Multiple agreements sounded across the room, one of them coming from you. Nothing too complicated, almost. You had to work with Ghost. You, him and Soap were going in together. While Price and Gaz would be going in from the other side. Both of the parties would be supported by Shadow Company men, so it wouldn't be only you three, but being in such proximity of him is always a heavy challenge, but you overcame it multiple times, would do it again.
The next day, you put on your gear, tactical vest full of spare magazines, additional pistol and other things you might need on the battlefield. Soap came knocking on your door, and with a last look at your room you took your rifle and join others.
The warehouse was big, that's something you didn't like about these missions. The enemy knows their place better than any of you, and the bigger that place is, the more there are places to hide and attack from.
The silence on your way there was tense, like something was amiss. You didn't pay much attention to that, you always had a bad feeling before the missions, but nothing too bad ever happened.
Price and Gaz were on the other side, ready to go in when you three finished the pre mission talk. Ghost gave out the orders, Soap and you listened, the Shadow Company men listened. Everyone was ready, it was time to act.
On Price's command to Ghost, you all went in. The yelling and gunfire started almost immediately. Everything was going according to plan, it didn't look like the enemy anticipated anything, so it gave you all an advantage.
Clearing room after room you all advanced. You did what you did best, you saw the target - you fired. Target - fire. Target - fire. Ghost was the leading player on the field, he was going first, Soap behind you. It didn't cause any problems, it was the usual tactical arrangement, but you felt the adrenaline pumping in your veins. You moved to the side, taking on more of the enemy men, who were using anything they had near to try and hold your forces back.
The quick and swift movements of all members of the team, made the process quicker and much easier. Ghost was eyeing you from the corner of his eye, not liking you moving out of the line, but he did not have time or quite the opportunity to have fights right now.
Later on, you met with Price's team in the middle of the warehouse, both teams confirming clear on their sides. One of the Shadow Company members held the case you all were after, with everyone going into one of the rooms to discuss and decide on the plan of action. You were following everyone in there, when you noticed movements in the corner of your eye, and snapped your head to the source immediately.
On the second floor of the warehouse was a small hallway, with connected rooms. It did look empty, but you decided to check it out rather than blindly hope you hallucinated.
"I will be back in a minute, start without me." you told Soap in front of you, and moved to the rooms, your rifle in hand.
You were on the last magazine, and you weren't sure how much was left in there. You ran up the stairs, hoping that you won't need to use it at all. The rooms were dimmed, silent. The only sound in the air was the slight buzz of the Shadows downstairs.
You drew your rifle, prepared to fire in case you did not hallucinate the movement in here. Kicking the second door open you found yourself in a completely dark room, all the lights were switched off, you could barely see anything past your rifle and that's when you understood you weren't alone in the room.
The door closed behind you and you immediately turned, but it was too late, you felt something hard slam into the side of your head. You fell to the floor, sharp pain in your head making you involuntarily close your eyes, as you felt dizzy. Trying to figure out where your rifle was, was a hard challenge in such state.
Moments later you heard a loud noise and a sharp pain covered your stomach, making you almost yell out in pain. Your hand felt the butt of your rifle, and you gripped it firing into the darkness all the bullets you had in your magazine, hearing a thud on your right as a body fell next to you. You left the rifle on the floor, trying to focus on the source of the pain in your body, but the throbbing in your head was mixing with the piercing ache in your stomach, making you feel like you were on fire and covered in ice at the same time.
Moments later the door swung open the you saw the familiar silhouette standing in the doorway, his hand on the side, searching for the light switch, other hand drawn with a rifle in it. Soap, Gaz and Price behind Ghost as he finally turned on the light and took in the picture in front of him.
You closed your eyes, the sudden light making you squirm in pain even more.
"Bloody hell," you heard Price's voice.
A pair of hands was tugging off the tactical vest from you, as the other pair of hands tugged your shirt up and you felt them around your wound.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." you heard Simon on your side, as he was checking your wound in frustration and raw anger.
The body next to you was completely forgotten by the men in the room, as Soap held your tactical vest, and Price was reporting the need for medics immediately.
"Ghost. Look." you opened your eyes, still getting used to the lights and the weakness that was slowly taking over you, you saw Soap pointing at the side of your head and Ghost's eyes inspect the wound on the side of your head that made your head throb.
"Fuckin' bastard. Y/N? Can you hear me?" he shook your shoulder with one of his bloody hands. His hand covered in blood. Your blood.
"Yeah, all clear." you managed to whisper because loud noises were indeed hurting your head even more, and talking loudly was costing too much strength.
"Focus on me, darlin', look at me." he would say, without even noticing the name he just used for you. Not that you minded.
"They are coming in 5," Price reported from the doorway, making Ghost shake his head.
"Too long, too fucking long." he muttered to himself, but you still heard him.
A smile made it's way to your lips. He cared about you. He called you darling. Maybe it was still not too late to go back to what you two used to be? Apologise for the words that were said in anger, communicate with each other, offer each other love and support, instead of tension and anger. You two loved each other, you might have never said it out loud, but you did love. Everyone gets a second chance, so why wouldn't you two?
But you felt your eyes close.
"No, Y/N, focus on me. Look at me, don't close your eyes." you felt his hand on your shoulder again. His big, warm hand shaking you a little to make you open your eyes again. But it feels so good in the darkness that is taking over you, it feels so warm and welcoming, why would you open your eyes? You are so good here.
"Fucking hell!" was the last thing you heard, before the darkness took over you, and your plans for second chances.
You can stop reading here if you prefer angst and sad endings. You can continue reading below if you want a happy ending.
What was that sound? That feeling? It wasn't the warm welcoming feeling you felt last, it was a throbbing headache that was making you want to break your own neck just to not feel it anymore.
After getting a little used to the headache and the beeping sound on your right, that was making the headache worse, you slowly opened your eyes and immediately closed them again, too light, too bright.
A second try was more successful, you opened your eyes, looking around the room and coming across a dark brown pair of eyes that were closely watching you.
Ghost. Your face was probably looking like you saw one, because technically you did. The man was sitting in a chair, his mask in his hands, leaving only the balaclava on his head. He was inspecting you with his eyes, while you held his gaze not sure what to say. He did not know what to say too.
A minute, or 2 or 5 or 10 passed, you didn't know, when he suddenly spoke "I thought we- I lost you." he did want to say 'we' and make it not so personal, but you weren't the only one who realised they want a second chance.
"I'm still here, up and running. Or soon to be." your voice was raspy, you had to clear your throat to try and make it sound better but it didn't help.
Simon stood up, coming closer to your bed and taking a water bottle from the bedside table, opening it for you before handing it to you. Taking it from his hand, your fingers brushed, you so damn missed this guy.
You took a few sips and gave it back to him. The silence settled in the room again, but neither of you did mind it. He sat down on the edge of your bed, looking down at his clasped together hands.
"Why did you go there alone? Why did you not warn us?" he asked.
"I told Soap." you said in your defence, looking at him, noticing how the violet under his eyes got a few tones darker. How long has it been?
"You told him you will be back. You did not hold your word." he turned to look at you, his eyes inspecting your face.
"I saw movement, I acted. Could've spooked the guy if we all went there." you offered.
"As if you didn't spook him enough." he would shake his head "Don't do that again. You see something, you report it, we deal with it together." he said in a firm voice.
"Now talk to me as Simon, not my Lieutenant." he paused, looking at you, then leaning a little closer.
"Don't fucking ever do that again, Y/N, don't even think about it. You hear me? I don't know what I would've done there if you died there on me." he said, but his eyes softened, he knew you did what you had to, but he wished you did it a different way.
"I won't, Simon. I promise." you said, your hand involuntarily raising to touch him, just to slightly touch him, but you paused mid air. You were broken up, you couldn't do that.
He caught your hand before you lowered it back to the bed. He raised it and put in on his cheek, the feeling of his balaclava fabric so familiar to your skin.
"Simon.." you said, ready to protest and remind him that you weren't a couple anymore.
"No, Y/N, we made mistakes, we fucked up. I did, you did. We did it once, we can do it all over again, the right way." he would say, and tug off his balaclava, still holding your hand in his. "These were the worst 3 days of my life, Y/N. I don't want to waste any more damn time."
Second chances do happen, and you were so damn happy you got to have it with him all over again.
.
Second chances do happen, and you were so damn happy you got to have it with him all over again.
"No, Y/N, we made mistakes, we fucked up. I did, you did. We did it once, we can do it all over again, the right way." he would say, and tug off his balaclava, still holding your hand in his. "These were the worst 3 days of my life, Y/N. I don't want to waste any more damn time."
Second chances do happen, and you were so damn happy you got to have it with him all over again.
authors note: HELLO!! yes after such a long time (3 months) look who is finally back! University is killing me slowly, but I found time to write something. Hope you like it! Enjoy :)
situation: You lost your brother at young age, him leaving for the military and leaving you to your far from perfect family, you followed in his steps, joining the military and finding something you were searching for..
Thinking about Ghost, you’d assume that man would be prepared for anything that might come at him, thinking of several steps at the same time, very attentive and observant, but nothing could've prepared him for his little sister joining the military and then special forces.
You were Y/N Riley and you loved to annoy your brother. You were a kid when the drama in your family played out and Simon left for the military, and because of that you haven't seen him for a few years. After that you decided to take matters into your own hands and find him, contact him, he was your brother and you wanted to stay in contact.
You had to leave home behind, because it was getting unbearable to live in these conditions. Your father liked his alcohol more than any of his children or his wife, your other older brother was addicted to drugs, stealing money from your mother to buy himself some more. You had nowhere to go and no one to turn to, apart from Simon, whom you weren't in contact with.
You tried everything to help your second brother, you made him stay at home, tried sobering him up every time he got high, you tried to protect your mother from your father but you always were unsuccessful, as your father was quite a big man, leaving you with bruises instead of your mother. That was a way to save her, you thought, so you didn't mind the pain in your ribs and your cut lip as long as your mother was alright.
You hated the fact that you can’t put your father back into his place, and teach him a life lesson. You worked out in your small, as much as it was possible in such a small space, but it didn't give you much.
One night, after another bruise from your father appeared on your skin, your mother slipped into your room, finding you not sleeping.
“You should leave, Y/N, darling.” she said to you, sitting down on your bed and cutting straight to the point. “You won't be safe here and I can't do anything to protect you and your brother.”
Obviously you disagreed, who would leave your family behind when this was happening? You didn't want to think what can happen when you leave, but your mother spent hours sitting down with you, holding you close and promising you that she will be alright, while you need to go out there and find a better life.
It took you a day to decide where you will go after you leave, but it took much longer to decide when you will leave. It was the hardest decision you've made in your life, at least you thought so for now.
You were always interested in that, and having your brother there just added your interest. You looked over the old papers that started to lose colour, phone numbers and address written on it. You made sure to take these with you, when leaving home. You didn't take many things with you, as you went to enlist yourself in the military.
Your years of service came to an end, and by that time you were a completely different person. You were physically trained and morally you now were quite alike with Simon, who you still haven't heard from, your tries to find him were unsuccessful, and at one point you gave up.
You came back home to see that nothing has changed, your father was still in love with his alcohol and your brother was still buying drugs. This time, you were able to put an end to that. You didn't think twice before kicking your father out of the house, your mother tried to weakly protest at first but she was happy to finally be able to breathe again. You stayed home for months, helping your brother with his addiction, making sure he wouldn't be able to look at or think of drugs ever again. He then later met a woman and married her, they had a child together and now you had a beautiful nephew.
Life at home got better, your mother started smiling again. Your father tried to come back a few times but every time he was met with you and your unyielding attitude, he hasn't come back since. You grew to love your home and newly established dynamics, the only thing you've been missing is Simon. You remembered him and he was always a good brother to you, he told you to be better than him when he left, he told you to fight and make a good change in the world, something he thought he wasn't capable of.
So now, when you were back home from your service, you thought you accomplished that, you held your promise to him, even if it was to a small extent of your family, you've made their lives better.
Your time at home came to a soon stop, as you were called back for a mission. It left you in confusion as you thought that your time was over, but you still packed your bag and after promising your mother to come back, you left home again.
Back at the base, you were met with your commander and an unfamiliar man next to him. You took in your surroundings and noticed the quiet whispers around, not a good sign.
“This is Captain Price, Corporal Riley.” your commander nodded to the man next to him as he was watching you closely which you found strange.
“Sir.” you greeted him, holding your stance.
“Could we talk in private, Commander?” The man spoke and after receiving a nod turned back to you.
When the doors closed behind your Commander, silence fell over the room. You were looking at Price, who took out a bunch of letters from his vest. Your eyes widened a little when you recognised the envelopes, you didn't need to see them up close to understand that these are yours and were sent to your brother in your attempts to contact him.
“I assume you know what these are, Y/N.” he spoke, putting the letters on the table next to him. “Simon hasn't received them, so I thought I'd return them.”
Your eyes slid back to the man, as you processed the information you just received.
“You know him?” you asked, all official protocols going out of your head in the moment.
“I do.” was all he said.
“Why didn't you give them to him?” thoughts were racing in your head, what was this man playing at?
“Because he has enough on his shoulders to put his past on top. I don't know you, he has never talked of you, but he is not the Simon you once knew, and I advise you to think again, do you want to know him or not.”
“I do. Whoever he is, he is my brother, that won't change.” you answered rather too quickly, the man observing you in silence.
“Very well. Why did you leave the service? Your promotion to Sergeant was waiting for you.” he asked, crossing his arms on his chest.
“Family. There were matters, I left.” you said, holding his gaze, “I am officially still in the ranks, just on a temporary break.”
A nod was all he gave you, before eyeing your letters in a pressing silence. You watched him and saw the heavy thinking process the man was going through, you didn't know why he was suddenly questioning you about it all and why it matters to him. He is a Captain, and from his words he knows your brother, but what does he want?
“As you were told, you are called back for a mission. There is a weapon crisis and we have a threat to the whole world on our hands. Task Force 141 is going to take care of it, and you are coming with us.” he said, not giving you a choice, that was an order and you nodded.
“Yes, Sir. Can I ask, why me?” you looked at him in a question.
“No, Corporal, you can't.”
You left during the same day, sharing a vehicle with Price and one more soldier you didn't know the name of. During your several hour drive, you watched trees outside the window, your thoughts racing, hope that Simon would be there was a growing seed deep in your chest. It was stupid, you thought, the man jusg said that he knows him, not that they work together or that they have seen each other even.
When you arrived at the base, Price gave you a long look and gestured for you to go after him, which you did. Going through the halls of a base, you were taking in your surroundings, people around didn't pay you any attention which was a good sign for you. You stopped behind Price, who stopped at the two sliding doors. You were about to ask what happened, when he opened the doors and walked inside, you went after him.
“May I present to you, our newest addition to the Force, Y/N.” You looked at the men in the meeting room you were in, three pairs of eyes staring at you. The guy with a mohawk snapped out of it first, shaking your hand “Soap.” he said as you nodded to him. “Gaz” the guy on the left side walked over to you and shook your hand too. You turned to the third guy, who was wearing a skull mask and basically drilling you with his intense stare. You stared back at him, the seed of hope tugging on your chest as you recognised those eyes, even under a skull mask, the so familiar brown eyes were staring at you from across the room. You had to hold yourself back to not clasp your hand over your mouth, as you were finally staring at your brother, Simon. His eyes slid from you to Price, his gaze not softening, as it promised to have a word with the man later.
“He doesn't talk much, but that's Ghost, scary guy, be careful.” Soap said on your side, him and Gaz hiding little smirks.
“Right.” you squeezed out of yourself, Simon’s eyes meeting yours again.
“I won't torture you all today, but tomorrow at 9 in the morning I'm waiting for everyone here.” Price said, dismissing the whole group and leaving the room.
“So, Y/N, where did you come from? Price didn't say anything about his secret addition.” Soap leaned on the table, giving you a sweet smile.
“He called me back from my temporary leave. I don't know much about it myself.” your eyes involuntarily slid back to Simon, who was still staring at you, clenching his gloved fist, which you knew wasn't a good sign.
“Right, and why did you join the military?” Gaz asked you, keeping the interrogation going.
“To make a good change in the world.” you said, eyeing Gaz and seeing a slight change in Simon’ posture as you went on. “Sorry guys, nice to chat with you, but I need to do a few things, see you all later.” and left the meeting room. You made your way outside, needing fresh air after the whole encounter. You couldn't believe it, he was there, alive and well, and now you had to work with him. After so many years of silence, you reunited with your brother.
When you walked into the darkness of the evening, making your way a bit further away from the building of the base, kicking a small stone with your boot, you felt a hand on your shoulder and your fight instinct kicked in, turning and grabbing the arm of the supposed attacker, twisting it behind his back, at least you tried to do so, he predicted that and was quicker, grabbing your arm instead and shoving you to the nearest tree.
You looked up seeing the familiar brown eyes and a skull mask. You breathed out, happy that it wasn't an actual attacker.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he grunted. That wasn't a warm welcome you might've expected from your long lost brother.
“Shouldn't it be me asking you that, Simon?” was he going to be an ass to you?
“Why the fuck did you enlist, Y/N? You were supposed to be safe, back at home.” he said.
“But it wasn't safe. Our father was practising his punches on our mother, someone had to protect her. Our brother got addicted to fucking drugs, you think it was safe at home? Our mother begged me to leave and find a better life somewhere, I went to the military and finally kicked out that excuse of a father out of our home, Tommy now has a family and is living a healthy life. Who if not you knows about how fucking awful our father was, Simon.” you breathed it all out in one go, your temper rising a little, as he was towering over you and listening. “You left and it was me who had to take care of them, and after that Captain pulled me out of home to join you all on a mission. If you want to be an ass, feel free to, but I'm not your little sister who plays with dolls and dresses up in pink anymore.”
He looked you over and then nodded, he didn't have anything to counter your words, you had the right in that conversation. He was silent and then stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, both of you needed that more than any of you were admitting. You rested your head on his chest, as he had his head on top of yours. The silence around you two wasn't pressing on you anymore, it was comfortable.
“Why the mask, Simon?” you asked into his chest, but he heard you.
“They don't need to know what comes after them.”
“Big, bad, scary Simon, I expected no less.” you said as he released you from his arms, taking a step back, looking down at you.
“We need to keep our relation a secret, Y/N, they don't know anything about me and I’d prefer if they didn't know much more about you. You can never know who will betray you in the end.” he said and you gave him a nod, you expected that and you were more than happy to just work with him, you could keep the details a secret.
He then showed you the room you were supposed to stay in at the base, where you were now laying on the bed, not able to fall asleep. So much happened lately, you were called in, had to leave home, met Price and his whole Task Force, you finally reunited with your brother. You laid in bed and thought about everything times and times, until your eyes grew heavy and you drifted away to sleep.
The next day you were in the meeting room before anyone else, was it fear to fail during the first day? Maybe, but you preferred to be early than to be late. You looked up as the doors opened and Simon appeared, giving you a slight nod of his head in greeting, which you returned. Not so long after Soap and Gaz went in, eyeing you two suspiciously, but not stopping their banter and laughing. Price entered shortly after them, starting your meeting.
You made plans and first steps of investigating enemy forces and units, to find out what you were going against.
“We need to send someone in, go in, observe, don't get caught and get back.” Price said, looking over at soldiers in front of him.
“I can go, I've done that before.” you said, raising your hand a little, everyone's attention turning to you. Soap whistled and raised an eyebrow at you.
“Tell us more about your spy adventures, Y/N.” he asked, leaning his chin on his palm.
“MacTavish.” Simon’s voice thundered from across the table, making Soap shrug.
“We need to know more, to understand if she is fit for the task.” he glanced at Ghost.
“I had to infiltrate a military base, stealing the uniform from a storage room, they didn't question me or pay me any mind, so I got to the control room and got the intel we needed.” you said, looking at Soap.
“That's right, we could work with that.” Price nodded, not against the idea of sending you in to infiltrate.
“Price. Don't.” Ghost looked at the Captain in front of him, who met his eyes with understanding.
Soap and Gaz exchanged glances, seeing Ghost’s behaviour that wasn't what he usually acted like.
“Let's develop a plan first, then decide who is better to execute.” Price offered a half compromise, and all of you went back to work.
After the meeting, when Price and Gaz left, you stayed in the room to get to know the plans of the building a little more. Ghost was busy with some papers on the other side of the room and Soap decided to use the moment.
“Listen, Y/N, what do you think of helping me with one little thing, before we get sucked into the action, eh?” he leaned on the table next to you.
“And what is that little thing supposed to be?” you asked, amused.
“Eh, just a small favour, drinking alone is considered alcoholism, so I thought why don't you go with me to have a few drinks?” he said, and you had to hold back a small chuckle, seeing Simon eyeing you two from his side of the room.
“Sure, if you insist. When?” you asked him, setting down your papers and turning to Soap.
“Tomorrow evening?” he shrugged.
“We have training tomorrow evening.” Ghost’s voice came from the side, and both of you turned to him.
“Why would we have training tomorrow evening? We have one today.” Soap raised an eyebrow at the man.
“Don’t ask me, how would I know?” Ghost looked back at the papers in front of him, acting too casual.
“Right, well, that's a shame then, maybe next time?” Soap gave you an apologetic smile and after you reassured him that you will have drinks after the mission, he left the room.
“Simon. Don't start now.” you jokingly pointed a finger at him and he gave you a side glance.
“Have to keep you safe from the bad guys.” he said, setting down the papers and turning to you.
“Is he a bad guy?”
“No, but he fucks everything that moves.”
You laughed and moved to the exit of the room, thinking to yourself that you finally had your brother back.
Hiya!! Could I request an angsty one with ghost in which reader is in team 141 and gets shot and is dying and ghost confesses his feelings and shows his face to her? Can be open ending if u want!!
A second chance
Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader
cw: blood, death, angst, violence, swearing
word count: 2k
situation: He lost you, losing everything what was left of him with you. Does life allow second chances with Death?
“Behind!”
Was the last word you've heard before the sharp pain hit your upper body, shoving you on your knees and on the ground. The adrenaline in your blood was at the highest point, so focusing on your rifle, you rolled onto your back and shot the man behind you, who was approaching you, not expecting you to move or open fire.
He dropped on the ground, blood pooling on the ground and soaking the floor around him. You shoved your rifle to the side, your breathing getting heavier as the blood poured from you, your clothes getting drenched in dark liquid, as you tried to pull off your gear vest.
You struggled because it was heavy and every movement caused a shot of pain sharper and sharper each time. You gritted your teeth and tried to shove the vest off you, when a pair of hands grabbed the vest and tugged it off you, throwing it to the side. You went for your knife, but the man appeared in front of you, dropping to his knees by your side and you relaxed your hand, seeing Ghost in front of you.
“Don't move. Medics are on their way. The bloody bastard hid in the control room. Last man standing.” Ghost undid your jacket and pulled your shirt up to check the severity of the wound. His eyes scanned your body as he muttered a low “Shit.”
“Leave it, Ghost, it's fine.” you started but the voice on the radio cut you off.
“Ghost? Y/N? What's your status?” Price sounded concerned, you couldn't make it to the meeting point for obvious reasons, and Ghost chose to stay with you.
“Y/N’s hit. Medics on their way. Hangar’s clear.” Ghost pressed the button on the radio, replying to Price, as his eyes were glued to you.
“Shit. Hold tight, we are coming. Out.”
You closed your eyes. Adrenaline was quickly wearing off, the pain taking a hold of your body as you were growing more and more tired to fight it.
“Y/N. Y/N, open your eyes. Don’t pull that shit on me. Don't you dare.” Simon’s voice was filled with anger and concern as he pressed one of his hands to your cheek, turning your head to face him.
You opened your eyes, the movement costing you a lot of energy. You tried to give him a little smile but it looked more like a grimace, considering his eyes changed. His face was covered by his skull mask, but you still saw the emotions in his eyes, and right now he looked as vulnerable as he ever had.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Y/N. I will kill you myself if you do.” he said.
“I don't want you to see me like this. Remember me like this..” you whispered, the edges of your vision starting to blur.
His eyes slightly widened as he tugged off his mask in one quick motion, clutching it in his hand. You didn't know if you were hallucinating with your blood loss being this severe, or you were seeing the real Simon, who was looking at you with a face full of concern and worry, unleashed fury and anger. He was mad at himself for not being in your place, he hated himself for not getting there fast enough, he hated himself for not taking the shot from his position he was at, worrying the bullet would catch you instead.
He didn't notice the moment when he started to worry about you this much. He always cared about you as a soldier on his team, as your Lieutenant he cared about all members of his team including you. One day the switch just flipped and it grew into something bigger, something more personal, something more important. He couldn't control that, he tried but never managed to succeed with that. That's why right now, seeing life seeping out of you together with every drop of blood you were leaving on the cold hangar floor, his heart was threatening to jump out of his ribcage and jump after you into the afterlife.
“You are beautiful..” you whispered, looking at his face for the first time. You’ve never seen him before, the real him, without the mask. The scar on his eyebrow, the cheekbones, his lips, his eyes that were as beautiful as they were under his mask. You would raise your hand and bring it up to his face, if your fingers weren't feeling so cold and were unable to move.
His never eyes left yours as he watched you lose your strength. He would never accept your death, not until you were laying dead in front of him and there was nothing that could've been done about that. He didn't want to process what this implies, he didn't think as the words slipped his lips before he decided to stop himself and live with the weight of the unsaid words.
“I.. I wish we had more time, Y/N. I care about you. More than you possibly think I do. And I fucked up. I failed you. Shit, I would gladly lay myself down here forever if that meant you are going to make it, if that meant you were gonna go home today.” he ran a hand through his hair, swallowing hard, as he had to rip the words out of him one by one. “Shit. Fucking shit! I love you. Here. I said it. You never knew the effect you had on me, I felt fucking human just from watching you laugh. I didn't have nightmares for the first time for the past 25 fucking years when you fell asleep next to me back at the safehouse.”
“I'm sorry I failed you, Y/N, you are taking the last bits and pieces left of me with you the moment you close your eyes, so don’t you dare die on me.”
You watched him, focusing your whole body strength to just listen to him. You’ve never heard him speak so much and definitely not with the mask on, wearing all of his emotions on his sleeve as he vented himself whole to you.
He was still putting pressure on the wound, the bullet going through you. You heard the noises in the background, probably more people coming, but it all felt so far away, so distant, so cold. You heard Ghost yelling your name, as you kept looking at him, studying him, remembering him, as the darkness took over you.
“No, fuck, Y/N.” he gently pressed on your cheek, trying to make you react in any way, as he saw your eyes unfocus on him and lose their focus forever.
His head fell, processing what happened, the realisation of the loss of you creeping into his mind. The medics taking over you right after, he didn't even notice their arrival or the glances they threw at him, seeing him without the mask for the first time, as it was laying on the ground completely forgotten by him.
“Ghost!” He heard a familiar voice with a Scottish accent call his name out but he didn't react, his eyes were frozen on your body being carried away by hurried medics who were trying their best to yank you back out of the darkness consuming you.
He felt a hand on his shoulder as two people approached him, Soap and Price looking at the Lieutenant kneeling in a pool of blood on the ground, his mask getting soaked in your blood.
“Fuck!” he abruptly stood up and groaned in fury, moving away from the hand of Soap that was on his shoulder, turning his back to the two men.
“She’s gone.” he haid, covering his mouth with his hand, processing what he just said. “She is fucking gone! And it's because of me!” he practically yelled, his voice getting huskier from the anger, the anger he felt, at himself, at the world, at the two men behind him, at you, at the man who shot you, he was being consumed in his emotions and his anger didn't know any limits when unleashed and currently he didn't care if he burned the whole country to the ground because of it.
Days passed, as he felt himself fall back into his automatic self he barely got out last time. Eat, train, kill, maybe eat, lay down and not be able to sleep, getting up and training again. Again, again and again.
He now spoke only in commands and threats, only to the enemies. He barely spoke to his teammates and colleagues, closing himself away from everyone. He didn't want to visit the hospital wing, afraid of what he was to see there, he saw enough to last him for eternity of nightmares as if he was ever falling asleep again.
One thing burning his skin was your dog tag. It always felt too cold in his pocket, whenever he reached for it, he never was prepared for how cold it was. The cold metal with your info was the last thing he had left from you, apart from his feelings for you and his thoughts, that sometimes wondered all the possible what if’s.
“Simon!” Price barged into the range building, as Ghost was firing another magazine into the wooden targets. He finished shooting, making Price want to cover his ears from the pressuring loud sound.
“Simon, bloody hell!” Price approached the man. “Come with me, right now, and that's an order.”
The light was too bright, or was it? Everything was pressing on you, as you slowly opened your eyes, closing them again. You tried to move and after that sent a whole wave of pain through your body you decided that it was yet too early for that. Opening your eyes again, you saw white walls and a beeping machine on your right side.
Right, you’ve been shot. You glanced down, feeling the bandages wrapped around your body as it ached. Your eyes slid around the room. Empty. The pang of disappointment in your chest sent a wave of confusion to you. Ghost’ last words to you playing on repeat in your head. How much you wanted to touch him, to tell him it would be alright, he would be alright and how much your body was not allowing you to move or speak.
The door opened and when you turned your gaze to the other side, you saw the man you just thought about standing in the doorway with smiling Price behind him, as he closed the door behind Simon. You both stared at each other, silence taking over the room, with only a soft beeping of the machine destroying it. Your heart rate picked up, and his eyes slid from you to the monitor.
“I will kill them all.” was what he grumbled, how could they not inform him of all the possibilities of you surviving and that you were kept not in a morgue but a hospital room after probably several operations.
Slowly, he made his way to your bed, looking at you like he was seeing a ghost. You gave him a small smile, as much as it was possible to smile in your condition. He leaned a little closer to you, and you decided to put your strength into your hand as you brought it up to his cheek, gently touching it, just like you wanted to.
He stiffened at the touch at first, but then you felt his muscles relax. He glanced at your hand and then tugged off his skulled balaclava, setting it down on the bedside table. Your hand touched his skin and you felt the slight stubble covering his jaw, running your fingers along it.
“I owe you something.” you whispered, his gaze flickering with concern and a little confusion as he watched you, sitting down on the side of your bed.
Could you write something for Graves, reader gives off major black widow vibes and has worked with shadow company multiple times in the past and now she has a mission with them again. Some fluff or angst i dont mind but they definitely have a flirtatious relationship and a lot of mutual attraction.
situation: You and Graves were an iconic duo, so now you had one of the many missions you had together, and even in a bad situation his humour never falters..
A/N: I am not sure I portrayed the major black widow vibes for the reader, but the reader is definitely cool as hell in hand to hand combat.. Hopefully that is included in black widow vibes, sorry if this is not what you wanted/expected!
You made your way towards the automatic sliding doors, and brought your keycard up to the reader, but before you swiped it the doors opened by themselves. The already familiar room greeting you, with a familiar face inside.
You raised an eyebrow with a little smile, seeing Phillip Graves sitting in the chair at the end of the table watching you with a small smile of his own. You lowered your hand and made your way inside the room, the doors sliding closed behind you.
“Missed me that much, eh?” you sat down on the other side of the table, facing the man who was leaning back in his office chair, watching you. You knew it was him who opened the door right before you did it yourself. He must've watched the cameras, watching you approach, you knew he couldn't have heard you. Even in your combat boots you moved with grace and stealth, not giving away your position with walking sounds.
“How could I not? I missed wipin’ the drool off my Shadows’ faces.” his lips turned up into a smirk on his face as he sent a file sliding on the table into your hands.
“Ay, no need to boost my ego this much, Graves, we both know you were drooling yourself watching me walk here.” you said, opening the file and skimming through the text written on the pages.
You’ve worked with Graves and Shadow Company several times and both of you grew to like the dynamics between you. Making jokes, flirting and sometimes picking on each other to keep the air burning between you two.
When he invited you to join the mission with him for the first time, he never knew you personally or ever met you before. He knew your achievements records, he saw your mission reports and knew that he needed a soldier like you working with him.
You didn't know what to expect from him when you first got the invitation, but Shadow Company’ name was well respected. Many of your fellow soldiers would want to join the ranks of Shadows or be invited to join the Shadow Company on missions, so you decided to not waste the chance and give this opportunity a try.
You and Graves quickly found yourself in comfortable communication and after the first mission, that was successful and you even managed to finish it ahead of time, a number of other tasks and missions followed which you happily did together with Graves and his Shadows.
“This time everything is serious. They are manufacturing and shipping potential biological weapons. The base is too big to be ambushed with no potential consequences, we will have to separate and go in from different ends and meet in the middle.” his tone got typically serious as he explained the situation, watching you furrow your eyebrows a little at the words.
“Let me guess, Botulinum toxin?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the text and the picture of the base, that was clipped at the top of the file.
“Bingo. A gram kills a few million people if inhaled.” Phillip answered, keeping his hands together on the table.
“Lazy bastards, no creativity whatsoever, always choose the easiest one to make.” you closed the file and sent it sliding back across the table to land at Graves’ hands. “When are we moving?”
“Two days, while we develop a flawless plan and deliver the gas masks for the whole battalion, we can't possibly risk going in without them. If we fail, no one is coming back home.” he concluded, his hand going through his blond hair.
“Then let's do our worst.” you said, standing up from the table, the gesture he mirrored.
“Perhaps you wanted to say our best.” he raised an eyebrow, the familiar little smirk returning to his face.
“Nah, Commander, I meant our worst.” you returned the smirk and with a glance over your shoulder at him you left the office.
Two days flew by too quickly, you stayed at the Shadow Company’ base, like you always did before the missions while the planning and preparations were taking place. You prepared your rifle and pistol, stuffing the knives into the relative pockets on your thighs and vest. You made sure to check your gas mask several times for any signs of malfunctions or defects, it's better to find them before the mission and not when you are in the building exposed to the toxins.
You and Graves were leading two groups of soldiers, you and your group entering from the main entrance, while Graves and his group would infiltrate from the back. The plan was to wipe the building clean, as cruel as it sounds, the building was filled with organised crime gang members, there weren't any scientists left who developed the materials and chemicals for the biological weapon currently being stored there.
Both of you knew the importance of the mission that was in front of you. It would have been handled by the military and special forces, but the rules of engagement were different and the risk was too high, so the high standing commanders didn't want to risk their soldiers, sending the PMCs and you in there.
“So are we clear, Shadows?” Graves’ voice sounded in the silent angar where almost 2 hundred of Shadows were gathered all together and were listening to the last words before the mission from their Commander. Loads of “Yup-yup” sounded throughout the air and Graves gave them a satisfied nod, glancing at you, who stood by his side in front of everyone.
After the meeting, all of you made the final checks and went for the lined up vehicles to take you to the base. You and Graves stood in between two cars, the base was big so halfway there you’d have to take different directions to your entrances to start the infiltration plan.
“So Y/N, you are leaving me again, eh?” he smiled at you.
“You wish I did, I'll be on your radio in 30 after we leave.” you joked, putting your helmet on and struggling with the clip.
“Come here.” Graves stepped closer and leaned to you, clipping the helmet straps under your chin. “What's next? Changing your magazines and then brushing your teeth?”
You gave him a slight shove on the shoulder “Considering your age, I will have to walk you back and forth to the bathroom when your back gives out.”
“Looking forward to it, Y/N.” he laughed and then genuinely smiled at you and instantly recognised that look on his face.
“No, don’t you dare start that now.” you pointed a finger at him with a pointed look “I will meet you in the middle of the base and then back at your HQ.”
“You better do, because if you decide to die on me, I will bring you back to kill you myself.” he said, shoving your finger away gently.
“Don't worry, you aren't getting rid of me so easily.” you gave him a small raise of the eyebrow and made your way into the car, alongside two other Shadows.
The road to the base took all of you quite a long time, your muscles starting to ache from sitting in the same position for too long. You've heard through the radio Phillip answering some of the questions of his Shadows, rolling your eyes once when the man got too cocky.
When you finally made it to the nearest to the base woods, exiting the vehicles and making your way closer to it on foot, constantly on alert, scanning the perimeter in front of you.
You stopped, looking at the base territory through binoculars offered to you by one of the Shadows with you, noting the outside guards.
“3 on the left side, 2 on top of the entrance and 3 patrolling the right side.” you stated, receiving several quick nods from the soldiers with you.
You gave the binoculars back, taking the sniper rifle from the hands of the Shadow on your left, two other Shadows lowered themselves down on the ground, looking at the base through the scopes. You did the same, laying down, knowing that others were currently watching your three’s back and sides to eliminate the threats which might arise in close proximity.
“Starting with the trio on the left, shooting the way we are positioned. I take the guy on the left, Shadow 2-1 take the middle and 2-5 take the guy on the right. 3..2..1.” you commanded and 3 almost synced and silenced shots were heard in the air, as the three guards fell to the ground. You repeated that with the two on top of the entrance and three patrolling the right side.
“Good job, now we advance before they get notified.” you stood up and advanced towards the base with the Shadows following closely behind you.
Moving to the breaching position at the front, you found the door unlocked, which wasn't uncommon but in a place of such secrecy like this, it was a mixed signal. You silently gestured to the front guys to open the doors and for others to proceed with you in front.
After several nods, you exhaled and put down your gas mask, in case anything was in the air or was about to get in there when they notice your arrival.
You got through the door and gunfire started immediately. Shots were being fired from at least 4 places in the big hall, as you ducked for cover, peeking from behind a large stack of wooden boxes with your M4 in front of you, returning the enemy fire.
Slowly but surely you were advancing through the hall, notifying Graves of your position. He and his group successfully entered the base approximately at the same time as you, causing much less noise considering their entry point. It was now a matter of time for you to meet in the middle.
Advancing through the base was a challenge, the air was foggy and you didn't know if it was from the smoke bombs or something else was in the air, something that would burn your lungs from the inside in matter of seconds, leaving you breathless forever.
As you advanced it was getting bloodier, messier and dirtier. The enemies were sometimes appearing in close distance out of nowhere, appearing from the smoke and trying to challenge you in hand to hand combat, with you easily dealing with them, losing a few of your knives in their necks on the way.
“Y/N, Shadow 2, check your fire we are closing on the meeting point, silent on our side.” you heard Grave’s voice on the radio and quickly pressed the button to answer “Roger.” to him, but the sight in front of you left your finger frozen on the button, as you eyed an army of at least 100 armed men filling the storage room.
Coming back to your senses at the loud noises of gunfire, you dropped on the floor sliding a few metres on your knees towards the closest column, that was perfectly covering you.
“Shadow 1, advance towards us, they are all here.” you almost yelled into the radio, peeking from the column and immediately being met with a rain of bullets on it. You managed to kill several men before you had to duck back to reload, you didn't hear Grave’s answer or if he answered at all, the men were advancing towards you and it was a bad sign.
Your numbers were plummeting, while it looked like theirs stayed the same if now grew bigger. It was no surprise that Graves’ side was silent, everyone was there to meet your group, probably not expecting a second one from the back which would hopefully pay them a good lesson if Graves ever came.
A man appeared right in front of you, swinging at you with the butt of his rifle. He had the element of surprise so you didn't react as quickly as you would've if you knew he was there, but you grabbed his hand yanking him towards the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist pinning him to the ground and putting your M4 under his neck, roughly pulling it back to break it. A few seconds later the man was laying on the ground limp.
You swore under your breath as you kept firing rounds at the enemy men advancing towards your positions. You reached for another magazine in your vest as you felt that all the other magazine pockets on your vest were empty. Swearing some more, you took the last magazine, reloading and keeping active fire on the enemies.
As you suspected, one magazine wasn't enough to keep you fighting for too long. Shoving the empty rifle to your side, to let it just hang and not bother you, you took the pistol out of the vest and kept firing.
That won you some time, as you looked over the Shadows, whose magazines were almost empty just as yours. Praying for Graves’ fast arrival, you emptied your pistol into the enemies. The last weapon you had was your long bladed knife, which you were now gripping in your hand, pressing the radio button with your other hand.
“Shadows, we keep fighting. Take your knives, nails, teeth, I don't care. We do not step back and keep going forward. Let's do this.” you glanced around, catching a few head nods and nodded to yourself.
There weren't many enemy men left, but they had the weapon advantage, definitely having enough bullets left. You peeked out of your column and saw a man heading towards you with a greasy smile on his face and his knife in hand. You exhaled and stepped out of the cover, swinging the knife at him, the man managed to dodge it, aiming for your neck with his own knife now. You quickly caught his wrist, tightly squeezing it to make him drop the knife, while he tried to attack you with his free hand.
Your hand to hand combat was supported by the fighting noises on all of your sides, with Shadows attacking enemy men with knives and gloved hands. The man was skilled in combat, there was no doubt about it, as he dodged your attempts to stab him and almost succeeded in stabbing you with his knife.
You finally succeeded in stabbing your knife deep into his neck, the man falling limp on the ground, and before you managed to catch your breath another jumped on you from behind, trying to make you lose balance and fall to the floor. You shifted your weight and grabbing the mans arm with both of your hands, and bent forwards, sending the man flying from behind of you, to the ground in front of you, bending his arm to an unnatural angle and then lowering to your knees and snapping his neck. As you were wiping the sweat off your forehead you felt rough hands grip your shoulder and before you managed to react and send the man flying the same way you just did with his colleague, you felt the cold blade of the knife under your throat.
The smoke was slowly settling down, so most of the room was still hardly visible, and the enemy knew the base better than all of you all together, allowing them to use it as cover and use that to their advantage, like for example right now. The man dragged you back a little, so no one of the Shadows could come up to him from the side or from behind, as his back almost hit the wall, with you on your knees at his feet.
“You killed all my men, you will pay for your crimes!” the man holding you said, as he pressed the knife a little more into your neck. “You have the last chance to get the hell out of here or your girl will bleed out in front of you!”
The heavy silence settled in the angar, as the Shadows didn't dare move, knowing that the man was more than capable of going further with what he just threatened to do.
“Leave my grounds, you fools! You have 10 seconds or I’m gonna show you the difference between real men and private empty headed dogs! I will slice her throat open for you all to see.” the knife was being pressed into your throat stronger, and you felt a few drops of blood run down your neck as you swallowed.
“One..” the man said but was abruptly cut off, his weight suddenly falling on top of you, pressing you to the ground, his blood dirtying your clothes. You immediately pushed him off, with several Shadows rushing to your side to help you.
You pressed a hand to your throat the cold feeling of the knife still burning your skin, as you saw familiar boots in your view and looked up, seeing Graves staring down at you and then pressing the button on his radio.
“Bastard stole my line, I couldn't forgive him that.” he said and offered you a hand to stand up.
You ignored it, rolling your eyes and standing up yourself, pressing the button on the radio “I’d say thank you, but it took you long enough. Did your back give out on the way here?”
You saw the crinkles around his eyes appear, indicating that the commander was smiling under his gas mask “Yeah, something like that, I just didn't really want to come.”
You gave him a light shove on the shoulder and both of you lead your teams out of the building, to let the professionals handle the biological weapon inside, now that the base was clear.
Yooo do you write for male readers or gender neutral? I've never sent a request before but i might have to 👁👁
hey, I've never written for a male reader before so if I do indeed write it, I'm afraid many things could be inaccurate or wrong. I could try but the quality of the writing could suffer from that, so be aware!
about gender neutral - yes i do that, there shouldn't be a problem with that :)
