In every Universe, it's always you.
Platonic!AU!141 x fem!reader
Simon âGhostâ Riley x fem!reader
TW: Angst, Romance, Betrayal, 18+ MINORS DNI, mentions of rape, mentions of smut, torture, LONG READ
Reader comes from a parallel universe. After witnessing the death of your comrades at the hands of General Shepherd, and barely escaping death, you manage to find your way into another reality. A reality where your comrades are still alive, meaning your love was still alive. You make it your mission to ensure nothing like this happens again.
Guns armed and readied as 141 aimed at the menacing red hole that appeared in their quarters. No noise was made besides the tormented howling and whirring coming from the same red portal. What was minutes felt like hours, and no movement was made. Ghost eyed the rest of his team, as they did the same. Nodding in understanding that something is about to happen. Heads cocked, fingers on the trigger, making sure to not lose their focus.
Finally, a low growl came from the red apparition. A battered body stumbles through, landing on their knees hard. Face and body covered in tactical gear similar to theirs.
A synchronized click is heard throughout the room, as 141 took their safety off.
 The portal slowly closed behind the fallen individual, leaving only their heavy pants to fill the room. Suddenly, a hand is raised to the unknown entityâs head, quickly removing their headgear, and throwing it off to some unknown corner. With closer inspection, they recognize it to be a woman.
You stared at the ground, hurling up any content that was in your stomach.
One moment, you were standing over your General, knife in hand, covered in his blood. The next, youâre in a familiar, yet unknown space. You felt pain throbbing through your whole body, knowing this was not some fucked up dream.
You continued to heave out whatever you could. Mixtures of bile and blood splattering the floor, droplets bouncing back up to your face. You felt like your eyes were about to pop right out of their sockets, but it never came.
Finally done, you looked up from your position, taking in the room. You saw faces that you thought youâd never seen again.
All members of 141, standing ready, guns pointed at you. Captain Price, Gaz⌠Soap, and⌠Simon. Your Simon.
Your sunken eyes widened, staring intently at him. Your hoarse voice trying to rip through, calling out to your comrades.
ââŚJohnnyâŚSimonâŚâ you croaked. Stunned once more, all members of 141 slowly lowered their guns.
âSimonâŚâ again, you spoke, but this time tears swelling up at the sight of your lost love. You wanted to cry out, run up to him, and hug him. To kiss him all over his face, but darkness took you. All you could hear were the muffled scuttling of feet and murmurs before you fell into a deep sleep.
The 141 watched as your body finally gave in, slamming right into the ground. You laid there, cold, and still.
With a quick signal from Price, Gaz skulked over immediately, checking your pulse. Faint but living. Gaz inspected your face; old bruises littered your cheeks. Lacerations across your lips, and eyes. One ear with the tip sliced off. Your face carved up, only recently to be healed. Remnants of bruising around your neck, indicating rope to hold you in place.
âShe needs help. ASAP. Weâve got to get her to the Infirmary Captânâ Gaz stated with urgency. Price nodded with acknowledgement.
âGet her moving. Make sure this is contained. Do not let anyone else know of this without my say. Get Laswell on the line.â Price commanded. Immediately, Gaz is picking you up on his back.
âSoap, followâem. Make sure they get there fast.â
âAy, sir.â Soap trailed after immediately. Almost frantically, especially after hearing his name come from you.
Price made his way towards Ghost, still on high-alert. Silence filled the air. Neither knew what to make of this situation. Who are you? Where did you come from? Why did you know them? Why did you call out to Soap and Simon specifically?
âYâknow er then, lad?â Soap questioned, eyes fixed on your form shrinking further and further into the hallway.
âNo.â Ghost stated. His eyes following Priceâs. He watched your fading form, about to round a corner, before your eyes opened slightly, stained red and glazed, stared at him for just a moment. Your hand weakly raised towards him, mouthing weakly, not sure what you were trying to say. He had an inkling of an idea.
Ghost tensed up, feeling his heart break, despite not even knowing who you are. Something in him yearned for you. He grounded himself, turning towards Price after what felt like forever. Quietly murmuring amongst themselves on what just happened.
Shy as you were, you made yourself a worthwhile asset to the 141. You had been together for some time on the task force, before you both warmed up to each other. It started off as simple bickering between teammates, then it evolved into flirtatious comments. After a rough mission, where you pulled Simonâs battered body into a dark corner, away from the crossfire, you shed tears, pleading for him to stay awake as you sutured his wounds crudely. After the mission Simon proclaimed his intentions to you, as you wholeheartedly agreed.
Those were the happiest moments of your life, and it was all ripped away.
You screamed and shouted, tears stinging your eyes immediately, as you watched a .44 mag bullet pierce straight through his body.
A smoking .44 mag pointed by General Shepherd. The General Shepherd that all 141 looked up to. Who stated they would follow him to the depths of hell. The same man that instead threw his own men into the pits of hell, laughing as they descended further and further into darkness.
He looked at Shepherd, before turning to you. His eyes were haunting. His arms outstretched, looking for your warmth. He tried to move forward. Closer to you. You reached as far as you could but could never make it. Simonâs eyes crinkled in pain before being lazily kicked backwards. Blood coughed up, turning the white ink of his balaclava a deep oozing red. His armor, now coated with the same red.
Before Soap could make his move the General then pointed his gun at Soap, pulling the trigger immediately. Soap falls as well, with only the remnants of a gun shot ringing through the air, and the laughter of your âGeneralâ.
You continued to scream your head off, watching your comrades kicked into a ditch, a flame lit, and thrown down to burn their bodies.
âWhy?!â You cried out, rage filling your being. You lunged forward, but could not move, being held down by Shepherdâs lackeys.
He looked at you with cold eyes. A sadistic smirk flourishing across his face. His mustache twitching upwards, revealing the bone white of his teeth.
âLoose ends.â Heâd state matter-of-factly. He sauntered closer to you; your senses running wild to fight. You kicked and screamed. Nashed your teeth at him and at your captors. You flailed your arms, attempting to break free. Finally, capturing one of the menâs hands in your mouth you tore away his flesh immediately.
âFuck! Fucking stupid bitch!â the unknown soldier screamed. Another handheld your head back before a harsh fist collided with your jaw, dislocating it almost immediately. Another fist came down harshly, feeling the immediate swell of your face. That didnât stop you though. None of the pain mattered. All you wanted was to get to your comrades. To Soap, to Simon. Your Simon.
You continued to thrash and scream, only briefly interrupted by another thwack to the face. Over and over again, but it never stopped you from latching on to anything around you. You howled, but never in pain. No, that will never happen. You wonât ever give them that satisfaction. You raged in anger. Explosive, pure rage coursed through your veins.
âIâm going to get you! Iâm going to fucking get you! And when I do, Iâm going to fucking eat your guts and shit you OUT! Iâm going to make you watch me, when I tear you apart. Iâll get you, and when I do, youâll beg for my mercy.â You screeched as loudly as you could, but your threats were ignored.
After what felt like an eternity your body stopped flailing. Blood poured from your nose. Your jaw broken, saliva mixed with your blood, oozing from your mouth. Your breath broken, and uneven. Face swollen, lacerations littering your beautiful visage. Yet, you felt nothing. Only the howling sadness that took over as you watched your two closest companions shot and killed in cold blood.
âFeisty thing, arenât yeâ lass? You did well holdinâ up.â Shepherd clicked. Waving his arms off, after landing blow after blow on you. Trying to hide the pain that started to fester in his fists. Your captors growing tired from your flailing, wanting to put a bullet to your head and end your miserable life.
âNow,â he spoke menacingly, âletâs see how well you can stand when we go back home, ey?â He laughed that same disgusting laugh, cupping your broken jaw, pointing your face at him.
It rang through your ears, but you didnât feel any fear, you felt nothing, besides the rage and emptiness that filled your being. You remained silent, your body no longer willing to fight.
Suddenly, a snap, and you just continued to stare at the General. You said nothing, still looking intently at the coward before you. And you smiled a sickening sweet smile. Blood splotches coated your teeth, as you opened your mouth to speak.
âAre you a religious man, General Shepherd?â You asked innocently. He was not impressed. Silence filled the air once more.
âI hope you are,â You croaked. âBefore you go to bed, make sure you pray with all your might. Pray tightly with your hands clutched together.â You continued to pant out.
âPray to God for mercy. Pray to him with all your heart, that my shadow will never darken your steps, Generalâ you laughed a low, tired laugh.
Throwing your face to the side, the general took the butt of his gun, finally knocking you out.
You were recon, and you did a damn good job at it. You were trusted with information that many others could not even think to get their hands on.
Not even General Shepherd could fathom the knowledge you held in your brain. And thatâs all he wanted from you.
When you came to, you took in your surrounds. White, padded walls, with a single table and a gray door. You tried to move, only to find your hands cuffed down to said table. You looked around more, replaying the death of your comrades over and over again in your head.
You began to rattle around relentlessly as memories began to flood your mind. Soon the door swung open to reveal the same man that destroyed your life, Shepherd.
You shook more violently, in an attempt to break free. Animalistic howls and shouts filled the room, as you continued to get your hands on the man you once thought of as your comrade. Your eyes devoid of anything but rage.
âWell, well. Good morning Lassy. Howâd ya sleep?â Shepherd whistled, before pulling up a chair and sitting infront of you, just out of your reach. You kept stretching out, in an attempt to grab him, only to barely knick him with your claws.
Shepherd clicked his tongue again before grabbing your wrist onto the table, pulling out a knife, and plunging it straight through your hand. You screamed in agony, but not deterring your feral mind.
âLooks like weâre gonna have to take the dog to get her nails clipped ey?â Shepherd asked his soldiers.
âAy, sir. Maybe muzzle it up. Make sure it donât bite like last time.â
Your eyes quickly snap to the soldier speaking, recognizing him to be the one that you tore a chunk out of. You chuckled, holding your stare.
âI wouldnât mind another bite.â
With that, the soldier attempted to lunge at you, before Shepherd stopped him with a chest on his arm. Calming down, he returns to his previous position, fury prevalent in his eyes.
Another soldier came around with rope in his hand, suddenly wrapping it around your neck, pulling your head backwards in a choke. You began to sputter, looking around in panic. A pair of pliers slowly emerged from below the table, as Shepherd moved towards your hands.
âNow, be a good lassâŚâ Shepherd spoke softly before beginning the removal of your nails.
You continued to scream in agony, begging for someone to come save you. Anyone.
âOh, no, no, no. None of that deary.â He laughed, âNo one here to save you.â
You didnât know how long youâve been stuck in this hellhole. Hours, days, weeks? Months? You didnât know what was going on. You felt numb. You were now laid up against the wall on the floor. You thought this would be the end of your life.
You had gone through another round of torture, another round of fists colliding with your already broken face. You no longer screamed, no longer reacted. You had shut down.
Weeks of frustration had begun to build up in the General, as you did not leak even your meal for the day. You did not budge. You only screamed when in pain, and continued to sleep. Passing the days, only thinking about your friends. What had become of Price? Of Gaz? Did they know you were gone? That you were locked in some white, sterile basement? That Soap and Simonâs body were thrown somewhere in a ditch?
Oh, God. Johnny. Simon. Every time your mind travelled to them you tried to cry. You wanted to mourn your fallen comrades. Your fallen love. Yet, you couldnât. You continued to stare blankly at the door in front of you.
Suddenly, the same door was swung open. What greeted you was the same soldier whom you had chunked out. Nobody else was around besides him. You looked up at him in confusion, as he stared down at you with menace, and something else. You finally felt dread in your heart, as you recognized the look of lust that adorned his wretched face.
âGeneral Shepherdâs getting real tired of your antics, bitch. And so am I,â he breathed out heavily. He stalked closer to you, slowly unbuckling his pants, palming at his growing bulge. You tried to back away from him, warning him that youâd take another bite out of him if he came any closer.
Genuine fear began to fester in your being. Flashes of Simon, embracing your body tenderly, came to your mind. The tears you thought dried up suddenly began to flow again. You shook your head vigorously. You did not want to be taken by this dog. You wanted Simon.
âNo⌠No!!â You tried to create distance, but you were locked in place.
âDonât worry. When Iâm done with you, youâll forget all about âem. Iâll get you mewing like a kitten. Purrinâ.â He licked his lips with vicious sadism.
âIâm your only salvation in this hole, baby. Be compliant, and Iâll put in a good word. You can get out. Just give yourself to me.â
But you didnât listen. You cried and screamed, soon to be muffled out with the same rope that held your head in place, now covering your mouth.
âSorry girly. Canât have you bitin me the way youâs was bitinâ me before.â He chuckled.
âIâll train you up good, girl.â He licked your neck lecherously. Disgusting piece of shit. Undoing the chains that tightly clasped your legs together, you used it as an immediate opportunity to lock his head in place. You continued to squeeze his head, despite feeling his nails and punches wailing effortlessly at your being. With your bound hands, you cupped both into a fist, before violently thrashing it into his head. You kept thrashing until you heard the satisfying crunch of his skull caving in.
And suddenly, his body goes limp. Keys, still in his hand, you wiggle him out of your grasp, before using your feet to grab the keys. Leaning forward, you manage to jingle the keys into your cuffs, finally freeing yourself of your vices.
Massaging your wrists, you began uncuffing everything else. You sighed in victory. You were free.
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AUTHOR NOTES: What up ya'll. I'm here again because I've recently been drowning in angst. Shout out to CriminalAmnesia for making the amazing Traitor series. My story does not relate to theirs. It is just literal inspiration, and perhaps a little bit of a reprieve for aching heart.
It's going to take some time, but I will be building onto this story. Please remember, I am just here to have fun. Reality is that I'm just a college student who is going through midterm madness atm.
Again, sorry if it seems all over the place. This definitely took a darker turn than I had anticipated, but tbh I love it. I still got a lot in my system that I've got to get out. Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy it.
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