the spider’s bite (m.) 18+
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
Pt. 2 to ‘caught in the spider’s web’
“Don’t play coy with me Simon, it doesn’t suit you.” [Y/n] teases, and a rush of air escapes Ghost’s lungs at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue for the first time. Spider’s eyes widened a fraction at that, humming out a satisfied noise at the effect she had with just one word. “Getting a bit hot under the collar now, are we?” It’s taunting, and the lilt in her voice is betraying just how amused she is, just how much she was enjoying this. “Is that what does it for you, L.T? Hearing your name?”
Warnings: inappropriate relations with your superior, inappropriate conversations with your coworker, the mask stays ON, teasing/taunting, mentions of voyeurism, jealousy/jealous!Ghost, a short lesson on spider venom, a dash of size kink, vaginal fingering that is also kind of guided masturbation, p in v sex, unprotected sex
A/N: i literally want to thank everyone that liked pt. 1, everyone that left all of their love and feelings and thoughts in both the reblogs and replies and even in my messages, you guys literally brought me sooo much joy and laughter <3 (also im gonna get around to a pt 3 and a Soap version in the future because why not)
Gif is not mine
It’s weeks after the rooftop incident and there’s still no sign of Spider’s impending retaliation, and for what it’s worth, there’s hardly any sign of Spider. She’s gone, shipping out on mission after mission, coming back to base only for a night or two of sleep before disappearing again. So Ghost relaxes a bit, thinking that she meant nothing by the tempered, “I’ll get you back for that”, or just that she’d never have the time or the constitution to truly try to get back at him when she returns for a real break. Oh how he was wrong.
Retaliation came in the form of distance first. Burning, singeing looks from across from boardroom debriefs and crowded circle planning groups. She was there; eyes almost lighting fire to his clothes with lust-filled stares. It was hard for him to miss, hard for him to ignore her eyes dragging over him slowly as if she had every intention of stripping him down within her mind and taking him apart. She made the conscious decision to meet his eyes at times, intent on seeing if her handiwork had any effect and each encounter he saw that her gaze had the same wolfish grin buried underneath faux innocence.
Next was fleeting touches. Finally electing to close the space she’d set between them, [Y/n] had started small and it all began with forgoing her usual gloves. Her bare hands would find their way to his forearm on the days he had his sleeves rolled up, fingers slowly traveling, trailing up and down the visible skin there in almost absentminded thought. It always ended the same, always with her hand floating gently through his palm and her thumb running along his knuckles before fluttering out of his grip as if nothing happened, as if she hadn’t just touched him out of nowhere in the midst of a conversation.
The touches get less innocent as the days drag, as she moves on from gentle and fleeting, damn near loving touches, into something altogether more wicked. The heat of her palm finds its way to the inside of his thighs anytime she’s sat next to him, which these days seems to be every damn chance she gets. It always starts out slow, her thumb rubbing slow, tender circles on the outside of his knee beneath the table, in a manner that could be considered comforting if Ghost hadn’t known much better. Yet, he does. He knows entirely all too well that this is just where the game is beginning, where the torture really starts. Her hand drags it’s way limply up his thigh only gaining a slight grip as her ring and middle fingers trace broken shapes along the inside of his thigh as they begin their ascent higher. And just when she’s close, so close that her pinky is barely skimming along the crotch of his heavy cargo pants, she descends back down to his knee to start the process all over again. Spider relents sometimes, opting to continue her journey up to grasp at his clothed cock to feel his legs widen slightly and his breath hitch under her brief touch. Her eyes dart to him quickly then, hoping to catch the trace of arousal in his eyes as he glares down at her when her hand trails its way leisurely back down.
It’s not without reprimand though, because he grabs her wrist one day when the meeting has ended in a silent demand for her to stay. So she relents, batting her eyes up at him as his fingers wrap around her wrist with a strength that could break it without proper restraint. A small reminder of his dominance and their size difference, before releasing her.
Spider is quick to feign her innocence in front of Ghost, blinking up at him shyly behind soft, lust blown eyes. “Something the matter, sir?” It’s almost hard to miss the devious smile in her voice, and it’s times like this Ghost wishes he could see her face because something about the glint in her eyes and the tone of her voice makes him certain she’s chewing on her lip in an effort to keep an amused smile at bay.
“So it’s voyeurism that does it for you as well, not just praising yourself.” Completely ignoring her previous question, Ghost’s voice is rough, heavy with lust and accusation when he speaks to her.
“Yes. I also get off on knowing that you’ll come crawling to me when you’ve had enough. I’m wagering it’ll be a pretty sight.”
“How do you know I won’t just do something about it myself?”
“Because if you were going to, you would’ve done it by now.” And she’s right, he could have already found some other way for release, but he’s holding out for her; because to give in to the pleasure himself would mean that he’s lost, and he refuses to be his own achilles heel. “I’m not one to crumble quickly, Lieutenant. I hope you aren’t either.”
“I know of an experience that says otherwise.”
“Dig your hole deeper, sir. It’ll just be more of a pleasure watching you eat your words later.” Her tone has started to take on a taunting edge, much like the one he used with her on the roof so many weeks ago.
“Which word’s would you be referring to?”
“I believe they were ‘Doubt that’ in reference to my declaration that I would be getting back at you for leaving me high and dry. That is, if my memory serves me right.”
“High, maybe, but dry? Definitely not. Are you trying to prove something with this little venture of yours?” He questions her as if the conversation had been boring him, but his burning stare was betraying his facade of disinterest.
“Prove?” She shakes her head as if his idea was completely ludacris, “No. No, see this isn’t about proving anything, I already know what I’m capable of. It's about retaliation. Punishment. It’s about the things you’re going to want to give me in due time.”
“And what does your vengeful heart seek from me ‘in due time’?”
“I want to see you trembling for me.” She shrugs loosely and her hands move in incredulous thought as she adds, “And I believe you still owe me something, but all good things come to those who wait and I do enjoy playing the long game.”
“Come again?” Ghost’s mind is still chasing the high of the first thing she’d said, reeling at the thought that she is actually going to try and get the best of him.
“Don’t worry,” She soothes facetiously, “You might get the chance to. If, of course, I’m feeling particularly kind, but,” She intercedes her own sentence to raise her finger to tap lightly where her lips were beneath her mask, “I don’t consider myself a very merciful woman, Lieutenant.” With that, she lifts herself almost victoriously from her seat, counting this conversation as a win for her and begins making her way to the door before stopping and turning back to face Ghost, adding one final nail to the coffin, “Do come find me when you’re ready to admit defeat.”
The final straw, however, was the intentional attention she gave Soap to increase the tethering string of tension between Ghost and herself through jealousy. Anything she could do to get a rise from him was fair game. Any lingering, passing touch or innuendo thrown between Spider and Soap was pushed a bit far with the intention of making Ghost’s spine burn with jealousy and anger, as he further sat with the consequences of her ‘long game’.
There had always been something just fizzling below the surface when it came to Spider and Soap, however no one knew exactly what it was. It had taken Laswell witnessing a single interaction between the two before she pulled Price over to ask him what exactly was going on between them. However, no matter who or how many times they were asked, the answer always remained the same from both of them, ‘Soap/Spider’s just my friend’ or even ‘We just get along really well.’; regardless if some of their actions and the words that flowed between them were teetering on far from just friendly.
Ghost had first found them outside of a plane hangar sitting with Price watching as the planes took off in the distance, only the way they were sitting had him bristling with wanton anger. Spider had been sitting on a chair, one that she’d no doubt dragged out from the hangar but Soap was sitting on the ground in front of her, leaning back into the space of her parted legs. To make matters worse, one of Spider’s thighs had been thrown over Soap’s shoulder and every so often, when she was looking over at Price talking, Soap would lightly smack at the leg on his shoulder to get her attention when a plane was getting ready to depart.
Then he had found them at lunch, a plate sitting on the table in front of them but only Soap was eating out of it. Spider, however, just sat there with her legs straddling the seat beside him and her hand on the back of his neck, fingers looping and twisting and untwisting the chain of his dog tags absentmindedly as they spoke.
Then it was an all too playful disagreement over the outcome of a card game, leaving them in a stand-off mere inches away from each other. Soap had claimed that Spider was cheating, hiding cards up her sleeves or in her mask or somewhere he couldn’t see, taking them out and swapping them when he wasn’t looking. Spider claimed she had no reason to cheat when Soap was this easy to beat at cards to start with. The banter thrown between them in the following moments was tethering the edge of an unresolved tension.
“Spider,” Soap had goaded, “the last person that looked at me like that, I got laid.” And Spider had laughed back in response, laughed so earnestly that it caused her shoulders to shake with life and Ghost had wished he could see how her face scrunched up at the motion without her mask.
“Well, if we’re gonna stand this close we’ve only got two choices. Fighting or fucking, so we’d better decide now where this is heading.” She had joked back with Soap, jabbing a finger into his chest at the proclamation. His hand made a quick movement to catch her wrist and his grin overtook his face.
“Careful what you wish for.”
“Table looks sturdy enough to me.”
“Right in front of everyone? I never would have pinned you as the type.”
“What can I say?” She shrugs. “I like to put on a show.”
The final phase of Spider’s plan had people questioning their involvement together now more than ever and after a single joke made by Gaz on a particularly late night when both her and Soap were missing, Ghost decided to find her, inwardly debating on throwing in the white flag.
“You seen Johnny?” Ghost had called out to Gaz as he passed him in the hall, “Price is looking for him.”
“He’s with Spider, in her office. Careful though, they sound like they’re really going at it.”
The warning comes as genuinely no surprise when he nears the room because all he could hear was exasperated loud sighs and expletives. Yet when he opens the door he’s almost more surprised to see that they weren’t actually fucking in there at all but rather fighting. Spider’s head is thrown back in frustration for a second as her hands invade the space between where her and Soap stand in front of each other in the space behind the desk, flexing in irritation.
“Windage, Soap! Windage!” Her voice is a groan of agitation at this point.
“We can’t account for windage if we don’t even know if it’ll be fucking windy!”
“It’s on the fucking coastline Soap, of course it’ll be fucking windy! I’m not saying account for it now, I’m saying be ready to account for it!” The tension in the room only seems to gather further as the two continue with their argument and angry pointing to the map and scattered papers on the desk.
“Johnny, Price is asking for you.” And it’s funny for Ghost to watch as neither of them break eye contact, neither willing to admit defeat, even as they stand there with Spider’s masked face craned back and Soap’s tilted down to account for the height difference. “Now.” Ghost commands when Soap makes no movements to leave.
“This isn’t over.” Soap remarks as he backs away from [Y/n] to leave.
“Yes it is, cause I'm locking the door when you leave. If you come back, you can argue with the fucking door instead.”
Releasing a heavy sigh, Spider turns back to her side behind the desk, placing her palms down flat on it as she leans over looking over schematics in front of her. Ghost makes his move into the room and shuts the door behind him.
“I’m serious, lock the door.” She drawls, “If he comes back I’m putting him through that fucking wall out there.”
So he does, twisting the lock on the door handle, before he journeys into the room over to where she's standing.
“Soap ever won an argument between you two?” Ghost asks absent-mindedly as he takes a seat in the leather chair a bit to her left behind her.
“I’d rather gargle sand than lose.” She mumbles back, her eyes never breaking from the work in front of her.
“I’m not surprised.” He countered bemusedly.
“It’s one of my less redeeming qualities.”
“How so?” Ghost’s inquiry comes with the addition of his hand finding purchase on the interior of her thigh, his thumb tracing back and forth on the space right below her ass.
“Not knowing when to admit defeat isn’t a virtue, it’s a fault.” Her voice stays level, almost taking on a bored tone as she answers his questions while retaining her full focus on the calculations in front of her. “Have you come to admit defeat?” She ponders and Ghost hums back in thought.
“I came to find Soap.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yes it does. I just told you why I’m here.”
“You always deliver news like this to your soldiers then?” She asks, referring to his hand holding onto the inside of her thigh. “I’m gonna be a little jealous if Soap is getting the same treatment as me.”
“The only way he’s getting it, is if it’s from you.”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, L.T?”
The air between them fills with silence for a few minutes, with the exception of the sounds of scribbling coming from Spider’s relentless writing. And Ghost uses this time to run his hand up from its spot on her thigh, over the curve of her ass and delve under the fabric of her black hoodie before resting on the bare skin of her lower back.
“I’m gonna gouge my fucking eyes out. I’m going wrong somewhere with these plans.” [Y/n] sighs as she turns around, Ghost’s hand follows the motion sliding from her back to grasp at her waist and then trailing down her legs to rest on her knee when Spider braces on the desk and lifts herself to sit on it as she looks down at Ghost.
“It’ll be hard being my best sniper when you have no eyes.”
“I’ll figure something out,” her feet lift to brace on the arms of the chair Ghost occupies and his hands move to capture her ankles, “I’m resourceful like that.”
“Resourceful enough to get new eyes?”
“Stranger things have happened.” She’s lost in pensive thought, no doubt still thinking of the figures and plans she’d been working on for hours with Soap, unable to let them best her in her mind. But after a few seconds she sighs out, closing her eyes as she leans back to brace her hands behind her on the desk and when she opens them back to lock eyes with Ghost, there’s something entirely different there. Something dastardly and beyond devious. She sits firmly atop the desk, confidence and something akin to dominance oozing from her posture.
“You didn’t come all the way down here just to come find Soap.”
“Yeah? What makes you think that?”
“Walkie-Talkies.” She states matter-of-factly. “You could’ve radioed on the talkies and told me to send Soap to Price. But you didn’t. My guess is because you wanted to see me.” [Y/n]’s head cocks to the side in mock thought, “Unless I’m wrong. If so feel free to correct me sir, but something tells me we both know I’m right.”
“Something tells me you get off on being right.”
“You seem to think about what gets me off quite often these days. I must keep you awake at night with how frequently you think of me with my hands between my thighs.”
“You’re giving yourself too much credit, Sergeant.” Comes Ghost’s calculated reply. He’s trying to retain the upper hand he feels like he has in this circumstance but [Y/n] is quick to flip the power back to herself.
“Don’t play coy with me Simon, it doesn’t suit you.” [Y/n] teases, and a rush of air escapes Ghost’s lungs at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue for the first time. Spider’s eyes widened a fraction at that, humming out a satisfied noise at the effect she had with just one word. “Getting a bit hot under the collar now, are we?” It’s taunting, and the lilt in her voice is betraying just how amused she is, just how much she was enjoying this. “Is that what does it for you, L.T? Hearing your name?”
Ghost remains silent where he sits, hands still held tight around Spider’s ankles, “Nothing smart to say back?” She inquires at the silence, “Come on, I wanna hear why you’ve come to visit me at this late hour. I’m hoping that it’s for what I’m thinking it is.”
“I came down here with the intention of fucking you against this desk.”
“Hmm…” She ponders curiously, “that’s not quite what I wanted to hear, but regardless, do you really deserve that?” And the question rattles around Ghost’s brain as he realizes [Y/n] was using his own words against him. The same ones he uttered to her on the rooftop. “Because last I checked it’s not a punishment if you enjoy it.”
“What makes you think I won’t enjoy punishment?”
“Because you’re here. If you enjoyed it you wouldn’t be here right now. Besides, I did tell you to come find me when you’d had enough.”
“I can hold out longer than you think.”
“I bet you can, but are you sure you’ll want to?” Spider teased. Leaning forward, her hands left the table to grab at the bottom of her hoodie, pulling it up and over her head causing her dog tags to clank against her bra-clad chest after they escape the fabric. She extends one of her arms over, throwing the hoodie to the floor beside the desk, forgotten. Her left hand reaches backwards to brace herself back into her previous leaning position but her right hand reaches down to thoughtlessly undo her belt, sliding it out through the loops in a flash of motion and when that’s done her fingers pop the button on her cargo pants open.
Ghost leans forward speculatively, dragging his hands up from her ankles to her calves, intent on a better view.
“Did you know that it’s actually rare for healthy adults to die from most venomous spider bites?” The sound of her zipper going down cuts through the tense air between them and [Y/n] makes show of letting the sides of it fall open. Ghost makes slow work of rising from the chair, eyes never leaving hers as he moves in closer to her, invading her space. The presence of his body causes her to widen her legs more to accommodate the size of him as he bares down around her and plants his hands beside her hips on the desk. “Neurotoxins from the spider’s venom enters the bloodstream and attacks the human nervous system causing side effects like dizziness, difficulty breathing, muscle rigidity, and blurred vision, but most people live. Do you know why?”
“Why?” Ghost answers her as his hands come off the table to grab at her thighs intent on spreading them apart further before pulling her clothed core closer to his.
“Antivenom.” She breathes out as her legs hook over his waist in compliance. “Most people bitten by venomous spiders will immediately seek medical care, drastically increasing their chances of recovery. The people that don’t, however, tend to suffer. It almost seems like it’s human nature to be stubborn, wouldn’t you say?”
“Are you insinuating I’m stubborn?” He asks as he leans back, straightening his posture to create space between them so he can drag a hand across the plane of her bare stomach.
“Absolutely.” Spider remarks grabbing at his belt loops to pull herself up, invading the space he had just created. Her head is craned back at an angle to peer up at him when she purrs, “Wouldn’t it just be so much easier to admit to me that you’re throwing in the towel? That you need me? All you have to do is ask me nicely for what you want.” Her hands move to make slight work of slowly trailing up his abdomen, sliding up leisurely to reach for the zipper of his jacket and pulling it down as if there was nothing in the world but time to waste. “I’ll accept any form of ‘I’m sorry’, ‘You win’, or even ‘Let me make it up to you’, it’s your choice really.”
“And if I chose none of the above?” He stutters out as her hands take hold of his belt, undoing the buckle and jerking the fabric of it quickly, effectively removing it from its spot on the loops and dropping it to the floor near them. There’s an intoxicating heat clouding his eyes and the presence of it has [Y/n]’s dominance wavering for a second. She wants him to push her flat against the desk and ruin her, but the teasing defiance bubbling up between the two of them is saturating the air too deliciously for her to want to give in and she was yet to figure out if her pride was a virtue or a fault in this moment.
“Then remember, I like playing the long game.” She recounts as she pushes at his chest and slides off the desk, “I’ll just go see if Soap is busy.”
The movement that happens occurs so fast her head spins from the intensity of it and the moment she registers that she’s bent over the desk with Ghost pressing a large hand between her shoulder blades to keep her chest down on the wooden surface, she starts laughing.
“Something funny?”
Spider’s laughter fizzles down into a giggle before breaking into a squeal when his free hand makes harsh contact with her ass. “When you don’t like the rules, you change the game, but I’m gonna win regardless.”
“I can always leave you ‘high and dry’ again. That doesn’t sound like a win.” He threatens.
“If you wanna try that route, I can always hop back onto this desk, make you watch me get myself off, and then leave.”
“You’re bluffing, sweetheart.”
“If you wanna take that chance then be my guest.”
“Well, if you’re so intent on giving a show, then let me help you.” And his left hand snakes from her back to wrap around her neck and pull her up from the desk, pressing her firmly against his chest.
“Is that your way of making it up to me?” Her voice teases low. Ghost only hums lowly in response and his right hand reaches for her’s, capturing and dwarfing it beneath the size of his own. He makes slow work in guiding their hands to rest upon [Y/n]’s stomach, leisurely trailing down the expanse of it until their overlapped pinkie’s lay at the edge of her panties.
He feels her shaky exhale rattle through her lungs and the deep swallow against the hand still on her throat in anticipation, “Easy,” he purrs, applying light pressure to her throat, “we're just getting started.”
There’s something delicious about the erotic feeling between the two of them as their hands breach the fabric of her panties and make their way down to her heat. Ghost’s forefinger guides [Y/n]’s to collect the wetness at her slit and bring it up to circle at her clit, and her reaction is immediate. Her back arches against his chest with an airy moan and her left hand comes up to grasp at the wrist he has planted firmly against her throat. They stay like this, fingers rubbing at her clit until sweat gathers on her skin and she can do nothing but pant and moan eagerly against him. And only when she begins to feel the heat begin to ignite in her tummy and electricity shoot up her spine, does he guide their hands down until their forefingers catch on her entrance before sinking in.
It’s a feeling that makes her tremble, breath catching and the fire burning on skin engulfs her as she calls out for him. Her mind is reeling, head spinning as she thinks about how he is guiding the two of their fingers inside of her, curling and plunging them in and out to catch the reaction in her breath, and in her body as she grinds down against their hands and his clothed erection behind her.
“I thought I was supposed to be the one trembling.” Ghost taunts, a smile playing at the edge of his panting voice.
“Y-your time will come.”
“Oh? Will it now?”
“Absolutely.” She moans, but it's quick to break into a whine at the addition of their middle fingers.
“We’ll see.”
“It’s getting a bit hot in here, wouldn’t you say Simon?” [Y/n] heaves out breathlessly as she raises a shaky hand from off his wrist around her neck. It happens almost too fast for him to grasp, because one second her grip is tight around him and then the next it’s fleeting up to her face, sliding off her mask and throwing it down onto the desk in front of them. In a flurry of movement her hair tumbles out from the confines of the mask in a mess and she throws her head back to peer up at Ghost, a lust-filled, sly smile dancing on her face. “Much better.”
“F-fuck you.” He stutters out and his left hand moves up towards her chin, catching it and forcing her to tilt her head back further so he can see her face. The action causes her back to arch dangerously, pressing their fingers further into her and her ass to dig into cock.
“Fuck me? We-we’re not playing that game yet, but you may get the ch-chance if you keep being nice.”
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely,” her word catches on a yelp when his hand presses hers down, causing the heel of her hand to dig into her clit, “I did say I’d let you have sex with me.” The reminder is met with him doubling the speed of their hands, intent on flinging her closer to her release as she feels her wetness drip down their hands and her head dizzy from the pleasure while the coil tightens in her stomach.
“Please don’t stop this time… I’ll even beg if I have to.” Moans are biting through her panted words as she shakes in his hold and closes her eyes from the intensity burning through her pulsating core.
“Maybe later, but since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you have this one.”
Her head is fuzzy from his words, from the explosive static in the air, so when his hands make no move to stop, she keens out a broken “thank you”. Her mind blanks and white casts over her vision when he leans down to her ear, mumbling out a gentle, “Take what you need from me, pretty girl.” And so she does, crying out when her release washes over her in waves of white hot pleasure and his hand continues to guide theirs through it, only stopping when her whines and moans turn to sobs.
“Good?” Ghost asks her when she finally opens her eyes and [Y/n] finds that he’s already staring down at her with a revering look in his eyes.
“Great.” She mumbles breathlessly, a small, gentle smile taking over her lips. “You gonna fuck me against the desk now, Simon?”
“Fucking hell. You’re gonna be the death of me, kid.”
“I hope not, I quite like you alive.”
There’s a breath of time that passes between the two of them where neither of them move. Both seemingly taking their time as [Y/n]’s breath evens out from its previous pants and only after does Ghost move. His hand untangles from hers and leaves its grasp around her neck to caress down her back. The motion is gentle and tender as he splays his hand across her back to bend her over until her hands catch on the edge of the desk. Yet she has other plans. Electing to turn around, facing him again as she had been some time early and lifts herself up on shaky arms to sit atop the desk once more. Spider’s hands reach forward to grab at her boots still on her feet, and her hands make quick work of unlacing them and tearing them off, throwing them to a forgotten part of the room. Ghost cuts her off before she can even ask for his help with removing her cargo pants with a simple command of, “up” when his hands reach her waistbands and pull down. Before her pants can even leave the grasp of his hands, her legs are wrapping around his waist, bringing him in close to her.
A fire ignites at the base of her spine when one of his hands takes hold of her lower back and the other grabs onto her thigh, pulling her in that much closer. [Y/n]’s skin blisters at the proximity, at the hazy burn of intimacy that suddenly filled the air. Her hands move down, shaky and slow, and her eyes never leave his as she pops the button on his pants and slides the zipper down.
There’s an overwhelming breathless moment that filters between them in the few seconds of her pulling his cock out of the confines of his pants and him moving to slide within her. Blood rushes in her ears, the sound of her heartbeat echoes loudly through her dizzy head when he fully sheathes himself in her and there’s a sizzling looking Simon’s eyes as he peers down at the place where they’re joined.
“Simon.” Her lips whisper against where his own are trapped by his mask. They’re so close, so fucking close that their noses brush against one another with each thrust and their breaths are one shared; and God it’s so needy, so intimate that tears catch on the edges of her eyes and a watery smile catches on her lips at the feeling of veneration blooming in her heart at the action, at the closeness.
“Is this what you wanted?” Ghost whispers to her. “Yes sir.” She chokes. She feels so full, so fit to burst that it’s too hard to catch her breath at the feeling of him inside of her. “‘S all I’ve ever wanted.” She slurs out.
“Spider, do you copy?” The walkie on the corner of the desk buzzes to life, vilely interrupting the moment with Soap’s voice and neither her nor Ghost move an inch at the sound of it, “Price needs you and Ghost on the tarmac ready to go in 20.”
By the time they board the plane 20 minutes later, Soap notes the same desperate anger burning in both Ghost and Spider’s eyes.
.
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