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Older boyfriend Simon (Pt 2.)

Pt 1 here

Older boyfriend simon: who pays for your nails and toes to be done every 3 weeks.

Older boyfriend Simon: who told you, you were gonna get cold but you refused to bring your jacket and is now wrapping you in his jacket.

Older boyfriend Simon: who takes you shopping every time you ask because ur his princess and will do anything for you.

Older boyfriend Simon: who pays for everything and glares you down if u even reach for your wallet/ purse

Older boyfriend Simon: who slings you over his shoulder anytime you give him and attiude and throws you on the bed.

Older boyfriend simon: who gets home from work late, and kisses your forhead gently to not wake you

Older boyfriend Simon: who makes breakfast for you as an apology for being home late last night :(( (HOW CUTEEE)

Older boyfriend simon: who 100% punishes you for any attitude or stubbornness

Older boyfriend simon: who carries you to the car and house because your pretty feet hurt so bad from being in heels all day, he cant stand seeing you in pain:((

Older boyfriend simon who keeps a photo of you in his pocket while hes busy "fighting bad guys"

Older boyfriend simon: who rubs himself raw to the pictures you sent him to "not forget you" he could never forget you sweetheart.

Older boyfriend Simon: who bear hugs you for hours when he gets home from a grueling mission, cause he missed his pretty girl so much.

Older boyfriend Simon: who has your name in his phone as "wife", all tho hes not into all that "cute couple shit" he cant help but remind himself why he's fighting to get home when your notification pops on his screen :(

Older boyfriend simon: who loves the cute lil texts u send him. "baby what time is it for you?" "baby i miss you:(" "baby wheres that one hoodie? the grey one? i wanna wear it" "baby are you ok?" "baby promise youll come home"

side notes: no typo checks sorry lol. also kinda lost things to drabble on about, so sorry if this is dry lels

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Tea time ☕

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Headcanons for Captain John Price and his VERY young housewife.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Like unsure if you’ve graduated university yet young. Like he’s gotta be 13 years your senior at minimum. And he eats that shit up. Loves the way people stare and whisper when he parades you around, massive hand planted just above your ass

He’s like Simon in that he prefers you stay at home where he can keep you safe. Hires maids and housekeepers and cooks so your only responsibility is lounge and look pretty. You’re his biggest trophy. Like a prize show cat. Keeping you groomed and pampered and happy. Purring into his hand the moment he comes home.

Lowkey gets so sour when you send the cook home for the day and make dinner yourself. Not that you aren’t a fantastic cook, he just doesn’t want you to lift a finger. Doesn’t like the idea of you accidentally cutting yourself with a kitchen knife or burning yourself on a hot stove. Wants you to just be a trophy on his shelf.

Doesn’t even like the idea of you showering by yourself. Gives you bubble baths so that he can be sure you’re perfectly preened because obviously he’s the only one that knows exactly how to take care of you.

LOOOOOVES that even though you’re so young you fit in perfectly with the other housewives in the neighborhood. Going to spin classes in the early morning, book club, brunch, shopping at the most expensive grocery stores.

Literally treats you like a pedigreed cat. Weekly manicures and pedicures that he’s put his card on file for. You just walk in and they know you’re Price’s wife and that your appointments are prepaid.

And pre-tipped obvi. GENEROUS with his money when it comes to you. And there’s probably a note under your profile that you’re to be paid careful attention. God forbid they accidentally graze your skin with the nail file and hurt his pretty kitty.

Facials and hair appointments biweekly that are the exact same way.

Your picture is posted at the gate of the base because all the guards are expected to know their chain of command and wave them in without question. He just loves that your status as his wife is enough to get you the VIP treatment you deserve.

His ultimate goal is to make you a young mom. Even though you’ve only been married for a year and you’re like 22 he’s actually so pissed that you’re not bouncing a baby on your hip.

Bet he loves the idea of his kids getting bullied because their mom is hot.

Brings you around base for the sole purpose of showing off. Purposely leaves his lunch at home just so you come see him.

The first time you ever met the task force boys he’d asked you to bring something DUMB up. Like a water bottle or something. Who cares. You end up accidentally interrupting the meeting they’re having and Price pulls you onto his lap before introducing you as his wife. Soap and Gaz are kicking each other under the table. Swear to god Gaz does that cartoon gulp. Soap looks like he’s about to explode.

Probably calls you his ‘old lady’ but with the most disgustingly smug smirk on his face.

Btw if you even care you’re such a trophy to him and he’s so invested in his team that he wants to share you with the guys. There’s no ‘I’ in team. So confident in knowing that he’s the only one that can truly pamper you properly that he doesn’t mind using you as leverage to get them to perform well.

Oh Soap did really well on the last mission? He can come to dinner with you guys. Price will dress you up nice and let Soap wrap his arm around your waist when you walk in. Then Price will invite him back for a nightcap and instruct you to drop down between his thighs. Coaching you through the process of palming him through his trousers, unzipping them, springing his cock free from his underwear, taking just the tip into your mouth. Being soooo nice about letting you take your time adjusting your throat. “It’s different, doll. I know. Being so good.” Until he finally snaps and fists the back of your hair, pushing you all the way down so that the room is echoing your lewd, wet gags and moans. He doesn’t let Soap come in your mouth, though. That’s a luxury only he can afford.

And you’re soooooooo happy to do whatever John asks. He treats you so well. The least you can do is oblige his requests every once in a while. He asks so little of you. Plus no other cock compares to his. Even after getting fucked dumb by Ghost, drooling down your chin, you find it in you to look for him. Pupils blown-out, whining softly up to him. Weak and slurring “Need you, daddy. Need you.”

That last part is only if you care tho. I’m normal about it. It’s fine.

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Ecstasy

Words:2,288

Summary:

Ecstasy: an intensification of emotion so powerful as to produce a trancelike dissociation from all but the single overpowering feeling. That is her callsign. Her being recently introduced to the Task Force. Will the members grow addicted? Addicted to the swing on her hips? To the intelligence she holds? The bounce on her curls? Or maybe the mystery within her eyes?

Notes:

Hey! So this is my remake of an old one I wrote. I hope you enjoy! I took a lot of time thinking on the plot and stuff and stuff. This will have more chapters for sure! Shoutout to my friend, R, for helping me with planning and revising. This fanfiction is sort of like a OC and Reader kind of moment, so take that as you will. Also, the tags and this note will be the only trigger warning! Enjoy!!

WILL CONTINUE ON AO3 JUST WANTED TO SHARE ON HERE

  - M ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Work Text:

Ecstasy

“Raven!” The little curly haired girl waved from the top of the big red slide with a smile on her face. She tried to get attention from the named girl, Raven Watts, her best friend. The eight year old slid down, making her way towards her best friend. Raven seemed to be surrounded by other girls around their age. Jogging her way over, she began talking with excitement, “Raven, let’s get on the new slide that was just set up—“ she was cut off.

“I don’t know why her family is getting the cops involved,” Raven was talking to the other girls. “My mom said it was her fault for wearing that skirt. I think my mom is right, I always told her to wear the other blue skirt that my daddy likes. That’s what she gets for wearing that ugly pink skirt!” 

“Raven?” the curly haired girl asked with confusion, though she had an idea of what Raven and the others were talking about.

“XXXX! We were just talking about you!” A girl chimed in.

“XXXX, why would you call the cops on Mr. Watts? He’s a great art teacher!” Another girl asked.

“What do you mean?” XXXX asked, her eyes switching from the other two girls to Raven.

“Don’t act silly, XXXX!” Raven said giggling. “You know it was your own fault for getting touched like that by my daddy! I told you not to wear that ugly pink skirt!”

The curly haired girl stood in silence, frozen, and her eyes wide. Her fist tightened up, knuckles turning white and lips pressing against each other. 

“So you do know it’s your fault!” Raven started giggling, taking the curly haired girl’s silence as an answer, whilst turning her eyes to the other girls. “You don’t need to stay quiet—”, before she could continue talking, Raven felt a pang travel down her spine after feeling the back of her skull hit the cement floor she was once standing on.

Screams and shouts echoed between the tunnels and slides filling up the park, the yells of horror coming from different mothers and children. But, none of them came from Raven or the curly haired girl herself. Raven wasn't able to speak, she laid blacked out on the floor, nose bleeding, with the curly haired girl sitting on top of her, being the cause of the bloody nose. ambidextrous punches travelled with a surprising velocity towards the face of Raven, precise in the centre of her face. The little girl didn't stop, she wasn't able to, she didn't want to.

“Ecstasy?”  Asked Kate Laswell, she looked at the spaced out woman with the given callsign with concern. Station Chief Kate Laswell stood by the end of a conference table next to infamous Captain John Price. 

“Ah yes,” The curly haired woman with glasses stood up with a nervous smile, the chair screeching behind her as she made her way towards Laswell, handing her over a black folder. “Here is the file.” Eyes followed the curly haired woman as she returned to her seat, her stature tall, her body curvy and fit hugged by dark blue high waisted fitted jeans, white t-shirt tucked in with a beige tweed blazer on top. 

The curly haired child had turned into a woman, now called Ecstasy, callsign recently provided by the station chief herself. Ecstasy now worked in the CIA. She's a specialist in cyber operations, finding and protecting important information, along with following orders from Laswell. 

“This would be an explanation to the breach all of you experienced whilst in the safehouse in Mexico City.” Laswell opened the file, her hand fixing the zoom of the projector for everyone in the conference room to observe. “Russian intelligence managed to get into our database, revealing your location.”

Captain Price started to organize the different pages under the projector, his hands evening out the spaces between each scattered paper. “Your database got hacked into?” Price chuckles, “The CIA never ceases to amuse me.” From the corner of his eyes, the captain noticed Ecstasy quickly look down after his comment. He made an internal note on her reaction.

“There is an explanation for it.” Laswell replies dryly.

“There's an explanation for everything, ‘innit?” John replies with certain sarcasm and tiredness in his voice.

A dark voice filled the room, “Obviously you guys gained something while giving away that information.” It came from Ghost. Lieutenant Simon Riley, callsign Ghost. “What did you find out?” Heads turned towards Laswell once again. 

Laswell smiles, searches for a specific paper and zooms into it with the projector. The paper was big compared to the other ones, it was a map, an aerial view of Al-Mazrah, Republic of Adal. Red circles, coordinates, and blue exes scattered around the black and white coloured map. 

“What the fuck’s that?” Sergeant Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick asked, placing the pencil he was once tapping the table with, flat on the table.

“Ecstasy’s work.” Laswell’s eyes found the curly haired woman’s dark brown orbs before shifting towards Gaz. “These are locations of stolen missiles, given away by Shepherd. These are now in the hands of Russians and Al-Qatala.”

“Shouldn't we contact Farah?” Gaz’s voice filled with worry.

“Farah has already been contacted, she has a copy of the map, and she said she will deal with Al-Qatala.” Laswell assured.

“How did you guys manage to get all ‘o this?” John ‘Soap’ MacTavish got to the point, he looked at the other coworkers of Laswell one of them being Ecstasy herself, waiting for an answer.

“Once again, Ecstasy.” Laswell repeated herself. Soap looked at her with a confused face but he wasn't the only curious one, and this prompted Laswell to nod towards Ecstasy herself, signaling to speak for herself.

Ecstasy looked around the room, taking each man’s vibe in before speaking up, “I work in Cyberspace of the CIA, I found a crack into Russian intelligence but whilst retrieving information, our information got leaked…” she looked down in embarrassment. “Leading to the sudden attack you guys faced in Mexico. They got your guys’ coordinates. It was the only way to get information about the missiles.” 

“She almost got us killed.” Ghost stated as soon as Ecstasy finished talking, blaming her for the failed mission.

“No. She got us information on the fuckin’ missiles we've all been crying over.” Soap defended the hacker, “I like ‘er.” he pointed his finger at Ecstasy, he got a shy smile in return.

“So, what's the plan? We go to Al-Mazrah?” Gaz asked.

“After the US placed sanctions against Mexico, Russia did the Zimmermann move the Germans did back in the day.” Ecstasy explained.

“Translate.” Gaz urged.

“Russia has been trying to convince Mexico to buy missiles off of them to attack the US.” Laswell chimed in. “We need to seize and retrieve the missiles from them for the sake of not having another war with Mexico.” 

The Task Force remained quiet whilst other soldiers and coworkers of Ecstasy whispered amongst each other not knowing how this would play out. Ecstasy fixed her glasses whilst her eyes scanned every crevice of the conference room, her pair seized moving once caught with another blue pair of eyes, these coated with black paint, Ghost. She smiled at him before quickly returning her attention to Laswell, her chair spinning and her hand travelling to rest under her chin. Ghost followed her movements, how her arm supported the weight of her face and how strangely, a twitch of anger appeared for a second on her face before quickly fading away to the original passive, submissive and shy look on her face. Ghost frowned with displeasure under the baklava he was wearing, attentive of the little façade coming from the named Ecstasy.

“You're not giving us this information for free.” John stated, tapping the map with his index finger. “What do you want us to do?”

“Take Ecstasy with you.” Laswell nodded her head towards Ecstasy, Laswell found herself meeting a pair of widened eyes. It seemed like Ecstasy herself wasn't aware of the deal Laswell was setting on the table.

“You want us to take the ‘lass?” Soap asked, laughing with disbelief.

“I'm not going.” Ecstasy spoke up, she began collecting her things, her voice quiet and nervous.

“She said it herself.” Ghost eyes moved from Ecstasy to Laswell, his head moving first before his eyes. “She's not coming ‘wit us.” 

Price didn't seem too fond of the idea of taking Ecstasy with them either. It would be dangerous for Ecstasy herself and for the rest of the Task Force, it'd be tiring for him to babysit another human too, the boys were already a handful. John couldn't afford getting closer to another soul, like Ecstasy, while being in constant danger, while there was a high possibility either of them wouldn't be awake to see the sunrise the next day. He couldn't afford that nor could the rest of the Task Force. 

John already preoccupied himself with the fact that Ghost would give up on his life any minute from now, that Soap was crying over his family again, or that Gaz was once again breaking down from all the atrocities he had committed so far after following him into the Task Force. He also had to care for himself. Remind himself that someone out there has to make sure the enemy was still scared of the dark, and that that someone had to be him. List reasons in his head about why he should keep doing what he's doing. He didn't want to worry about Ecstasy. He couldn't. He didn’t have the time or space in his mind to worry. 

“Why should we take her with us?” John spoke up, wanting to forget his thoughts.

“She's under constant exposure of being a target of the Russians. She's vital for us, meaning she's vital for you.” Laswell answered. “She can retreat constant information about Russians and provide you with coordinates in Al-Mazrah, the downside is that while hacking she has Russian intelligence hacking her in return, them obtaining her location. We’ve had an incident with her safety before already, we can't have that happen again.”

Ecstasy pressed her lips with displeasure and discomfort. Her mind travelled back to the certain incident. 

The pistol in her hand propelled her shoulder backwards, bullets repeatedly entering the chest of the corpse that laid in front of her feet. The man laid with his eyes closed and mouth slightly open, his body jolting after each bullet impacted his lifeless body. 

The frame resting on the woman's nose had specks of dark red blood on them, evidence of the kill she had obtained. Her eyes blinked defending her brown pair from the blood entering after each bullet squirted the red liquid out from the body. A tiny smile on her face which grew after the sound of each bullet. 

Before she could continue on any further, a loud noise of doors opening and commands of putting the gun down filled the office she was standing in. Immediately, she dropped the weapon, and embarrassed and shy smile on her face. Her eyes met with each officer before meeting with the pair of her boss, Laswell. She who stared wide eyed, in horror, at the scene before her. Ecstasy with her hands in the air, blood splattered on her outfit and her face, a small awkward smile, and the lifeless body before her, a pool of blood surrounding it, along with orifices caused by bullets all over the torso of the man. 

“Russian spy.” An officer looked up at Laswell, the man leaned on top of the lifeless corpse, his hands holding some sort of identification. 

Laswell’s eyes travelled from corpse to the woman. “XXXX…”

“You're getting the missiles.” Laswell commanded. “And you're taking her with you.”

“I did not agree to this.” Ecstasy laughed with nervousness, her eyes looking for mercy with Kate’s. “I don't remember talking about this.”

Laswell walked towards the hacker with heavy steps, a stern look on her face. Before Ecstasy could speak up once again, she was already being dragged out the conference room, the heavy black wooden door closing behind them. The exit of the two seemed to be the end of the meeting, everybody else in the conference leaving shortly after, though the Task Force 141 remained behind.

Gaz leaned back against his chair, his arms crossed with one of them reaching up to his face, his hand holding up his jaw and his index finger tapping his nose, thinking. “Are we seriously taking her with?”

John sat down by the open file left behind by Laswell, his hands moving papers. “I'll see what I can do.” John also leaned back on the dark conference room chair, holding in front of him the map that was once displayed in front of everyone. 

“I don't see why everyone's so sad about it!” Soap stood up from his seat and made over his way to the Captain, touching the papers and picking up a specific stack from the table. “Besides…” He became quiet after his eyes landed on the cover of the clipped stack of papers he had just picked up.

“Besides?” Gaz looked at him.

“It'll be a good opportunity for you to get laid for once.” Soap teased Gaz, his hands moving, turning the stack he was holding to face Gaz. A picture of Ecstasy along with her callsign and specialisation under it. “I wouldn't complain if I were you. She's a pretty thing.” 

Kyle’s hands reached out to hold out the bottom of the picture, scanning the female specialist’s face. “I’m not the horny cunt here, Soap.” Gaz roasted back. “She’s all yours.”

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Okay, I’m thinking about re-writing my COD fanfic. I need some character headcanons to add to the TF, please drop some. <3

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heheh i said i was gonna continue writing but ehhhh— i wanna finish campaign before i do so, so yeah i feel like playing today so yea we’ll see

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Is ecstasy a series? Uhm.. bc I might be obsessed with it already

tbhshshehhd, i wrote it w the intention to make it a series. if more ppl like it then yeah i will, why not. you’re the first person to show appreciation so im very thankful but yeah, if ppl want me to continue then i will :) i just recently started posting on tumblr so lets see how it goessss

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WHAT IS TUMBLR IT KEEPS MESSING UP MY POSTS

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Ecstasy

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley x OC Fem!, John “Soap” MacTavish, John Price, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Kate Laswell.

Summary: A new female operator has joined Task Force 141. Codename Ecstasy. The woman, here, began her first mission with Gaz, Laswell and Price in Spain. While on the other side of the world, Ghost and Soap find themselves alone in Las Almas, surviving empty handed, and curious about the new recruit joining them.

Warnings: Typical COD stuff, I guess.

A/N: Uh, I have not written stuff in ages, so excuse my illiteracy. The character goes by she/her. For some reason it took me too long to write this. And tbh, I feel like its mid. ANYWAYS, inspired by @the-bottom-of-the-abyss siren >>>>>. ENJOY <3, inshallah. Also why tf is the formattin here so weird. Also its short im sry i had a brain fart. okay bye

Recon By Fire

Spain

31 OCT 2022 1100

Haar covered the landscape, and the cold air created ignored goosebumps on the soldier’s skin. Flat on her stomach, behind the captain and the sergeant was the woman. Covered with garments that helped her merge in with the topography of the island, some island in Spain.

“We’re set at our firing point. Eyes on pair armed targets hiding in the field.” Captain Price stated in the comms. One eye shut whilst the other remained looking through the scope of his own arm.

“You’re green-lit. Execute when able.” The familiar voice replied after receiving status report.

“Rog’. Stand by…” Captain replied. “Gaz?”

“No wind. 200 meters. On me—“ Gaz was cut off.

Two silent bullets had already the killed pair of men who were sitting and hiding in the same field as she and the two other men were. Not even giving a chance to the fellow “teammates” to finish with comms. The captain looked back at her, scanning the shooter, giving her a stern look, and Sergeant Gaz remained quiet, starting to move his way through the grasslands of the island, not wanting to get involved in the rising tension between the two.

“Bravo, what do you have?” Laswell received silence, “Bravo, how copy?” faint concern was heard in her voice.

The newbie of the Task Force took her vision away from the scope, her eyes meeting with the captain’s. Price showed irritation by the silent commotion she’d made. The woman’s eyes were null, full of nothing. They were brown, the basic dark brown, maybe even black. There was not a single sparkle in them, not a single reflection of light, nothing. Not moved by her higher-ups gaze. Her body slightly moving from the reloading of bullets, she began to push forward and into the tall grass, disuniting the silent fight between both pair of brown orbs.

“Solid. Watcher. Two down.” The Captain spoke into the comms, his eyes following the woman moving, scanning her body language before he began moving himself. Her lack of liveliness bothered him, not even the Ghost himself was this null. Ghost showed concern and emotions when in a mission, miraculously maybe one on one, but this woman… It was just a soulless perfect body, built from steel and bolts, programmed just for ending the lives of other’s. Automatic aim and shooting.

“Good work. Push forward, see what you can find.” Laswell remarked.

The woman seemed to be already scoped in, her eye watching a group of armed men, gathered around a truck. Six men in total, with high chances to be part of the Cartel due to their complexion, the female knew her own kind and the memory of all the files Laswell had provided her with covered her claim.

“Scope in, Sergeant, and let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

“I see ‘em.” Gaz replied, flat on his stomach a meter or two away from the silent woman. “Cartel?”

“Likely.” Price answered.

The feminine figure remained quiet throughout the next few callouts, listening and obeying. She didn’t report anything, she didn’t want to, and she felt like she didn’t need to. She saw what they saw, no need to add-on. Perhaps, she was more observant, more quick to realize her surroundings and more quick to acknowledge her surroundings. She read everything like a book and watched life through a scope. Perhaps if she were in a more dangerous situation, she would probably make more callouts than the captain himself. But she didn’t, she didn’t. Why share what we see? It’s not even sharing. It was seeing and stating the obvious, something everyone was capable of doing but chose not to. The woman was patient, but not too much with people who see but don’t observe, the obvious was obvious.

Everything that was going on was obvious, or close to the educated guesses she had made before landing on the isolated island. Submarines, cartels, terrorists, drugs, and the taking of Kate by Hassan’s men. The woman wasn’t surprised, upon receiving the call from the station chief for recruitment towards this mission, the female sniper knew too well this wasn’t going to end well. Laswell’s plans always had some type of imperfection that complicated everything.

Whilst Gaz and Price occupied themselves by worrying about what to do next to get to Kate, the woman stared blankly out of the cave before making her own internal call to get out the way she came in. Gaz changed his focus from the captain to the fellow she-sergeant going her on mery way back towards the ladder. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

The woman turned around making eye contact with Gaz. Her eyes obscure, empty, intimidating to the younger British. “I’m leaving to get Kate,” she pointed at Laswell’s direction with her sniper while keeping eye contact, revealing her voice to the other two.

This dry but intense interaction seemed to make Gaz nervous, it was obvious on his face. Her face and body was already plenty to leave a man in awe, to make him weak to his knees but her personality, her aura was one to make a man suffer. The coldness was the complete opposite from the warm tone of her skin, the cherry-colored lips that screamed sweetness resulted with bitter words, and the curvy and strong body that seemed to fight for the reverences of others, resulted to be a brick and stone wall, refraining others to break it down. The female raised a brow at his reaction.

Price didn’t seen to happy upon hearing the first name basis regard the woman had for Laswell, he walked up to her, the tip of the sniper close to his forehead. Not only that, John was the one who made the calls, not whoever she was. Price commanded and ordered everything, if he asks you to stop breathing, it’s a must. To stay behind, it’s s a must. To give up your on life, it’s a must. “You don’t have a plan, sergeant.” John gritted through his teeth, anger levels increasing after each word.

Lowering her sniper, the tip slightly missing the Captain’s nose, she moved her head towards her higher-up before parting her eyes from Gaz to meet with the Captain’s once again. “You don’t have a plan, captain,” she turned her body towards him, “Apart from sitting and crying, it appears you don’t. You can continue to wail while embracing one another, I’m used to working alone, anyways. I already have enough information and the balls to start taking action.” The woman announced before retiring towards the ladders, her footwork quiet as she moved up each step.

Gaz turned to the Captain, embarrassed for having such an obvious weakness for the new member. Price walked by him passively aggressively meeting his shoulder with him, sighing, “Let’s go.” Price commanded following the woman’s trace towards the ladders.

—————

Alone

Las Almas, Mexico

03 NOV 22 0000

“Ghost, you missin’ a knife?” the Scott asked, a knife in his hand, ignoring the dead Shadow before him and jumping out a nearby window.

“Several.” answered the man on the other side of the comms.

“I think I found one.”

“Some of the dead Shadows are my handiwork…” joked the named Ghost, settled and safe in the church of Las Almas.

“You came through here?” Soap asked, feeling a certain pang shoot at his heart.

“On my way to the church.”

“And you left me?”

The man on the top of the church remained quiet, thinking about what his response should be. Looking through the scope of his weapon, aiming at Shadows at the bottom of the church, he answered. “I’m used to working alone.”

“So much for no man left behind.” Soap reminded.

“Just get yourself to the church,” Ghost replied quickly, trying to stand his defense, “tryin’ to keep you alive and get you here in one piece. One of us needs to survive to tell the tail”

“Taken a shine to me, then?”

“Not in the slightest. Still got a lot of ground to cover” The comms went silent.

And that is how the night progressed, killing, jokes, hiding, working alone, trying to survive all alone. Eventually, the two reunited. Struggled to meet each other, but reunited. Now, headed with much speed towards a destination unknown to the Scott.

“Get the chance to read about the Bolo joining us, Ghost?” Soap asked, his elbow resting on the window of his seat, trying to ease his breathing as his arm still remained in pain.

Looking forward, Ghost recalled one of the many files he had looked before the named situation with Graves had happened. “I don’t know whether you’re being racist or using shit American military slang.”

“I’m not being racist!” Johnny raised his arms in defense.

“She’s South American, sergeant.” His mind went back to reading the black letters under the woman’s picture on her file which gave her background information, ‘Maracaibo, Zulia, Venezuela’.

“How was I supposed to know that?” Soap scoffed, looking at Ghost.

“By reading the file you have just asked if I had read.” Ghost reminded him.

Soap became silent.

“I meant to use the term as a person who sucks at our line of work—“ tried to explain John.

“I figured.” Cut off Ghost.

“Ecstasy.” Soap called out the woman’s codename, “I quite fancy her face, should I try and get to know her bett—“.

A lot of people fancied her face, her looks overall. Her tan yet light skin. Her picture showed most of her body. She had the ideal thick thighs, hidden under the cargo pants, the long legs, her arms toned and smooth, her hands small and delicate, surprising as a soldier. Her lips plump and colored forming a smile, her skin clear, eyes in crescent moons, and black hair short to her shoulders, a green military beret sitting on top of her head, and on the side of her arm, a small french flag. She had served in France and in the picture she didn’t seem to have empty and soulless eyes. Happiness was written all over her face.

“Shut up, Johnny.” Ghost cut him off again.

Ignoring him, the man continued talking about the woman. “She was named so while working with the Americans a few years back. Apparently, she lives up to the name very well.”

Ghost remained quiet, not interested on hearing about Soap’s next target.

“Her ways of doing things was described by the Americans as ecstasy, the drug itself.” Soap looked at Ghost, trying to read his face, his eyes to be more clear. “The pleasure you get by just being in the same room as her, by just looking at her rather impressive skills as a sergeant, when making eye contact with her, it makes you feel like you’re on ecstasy, not that I’ve done it before.” He proceeded.

However, no response was gifted to him. After all this time together, Johnny still struggled to read the man. It was hard to do so. The mysterious picture Ghost gave himself, made it hard, his personality wasn’t enough, apparently.

Ghost did think about the Latina. Her eyes dead and dark. He wasn’t much phased, he’s met, saved, and killed people in this world, the woman is just another human, another person who will eventually die. Though, the codename did trigger him. He’s dealt with substance abuse, “naturally” Ghost would say. His past was harsh, and he supposed he managed momentarily with certain substances. Ghost knew what ecstasy was, how it made you feel, the obsession the Americans had with it, he understood. Though, he did not like the sound of someone nicknamed such way. She gave him the wrong impression without even meeting face to face. Bad vibes. Ghost, again, was not phased. Concluded to not think about it much, if one thing led to the other, he might even have to kill the new operator of 141, preferred to not get attached. Specially, now, since he noticed himself thinking about the woman’s features more than he would’ve liked.

“Ecstasy…” Ghost whispered to himself, the picture of the woman memorized in his head.

[miraxetine]

hi tumblr,

i like to write stuff about hot people and stuff. i came to the conclusion to actually post something after reading a bunch of ghost ff. i like ghost, and so do other ppl, and ive had a oc for ages who fits perfectly into the COD world. since a lot of ppl here seem to enjoy ff, i decided to ac share my imagination on here and see what happens. so yea c:

text me or smth idek how this thing works,

mira