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wicked-futures · 3 years ago

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Project Minx [Two]

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word-Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of anxiety

Summary: You arrive on base and meet the 141

Notes: I want to thank you for all the support I got on chapter one. I really appreciate it, and I'm sorry it has taken so long to write #2. Between finals coming up and getting incredibly sick this week, it's been hard getting it out! (But I did anyways) As always, Grammarly is my beta read so if something is off, please let me know!

The drugs had been flushed out of your system fully over a few hours, and you had gotten to take another small nap. You felt better than ever and you were antsy to start the next leg of your journey. Getting out of bed, you stretched for a moment. You thanked the medical ward for its hospitality, but the uncomfortable bed was something you could live without.

“Good morning, you’re looking a hell of a lot better,” Jessica entered your room with a big smile plastered across your face. She was excited that you were feeling good, and she also looked like she finally got some sleep. She handed you a plain manilla folder, with no identifying details other than “Task Force 141.”

“Got the rest of the info on the group you’re teaming up with,” She stated, nodding at you to open the folder. Inside was information on the group, the missions they had completed, and overall descriptions of the members. They were impressive, to say the least, and seemed way too good for the job that was Dmitri Volkov. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion, weren’t they a little too overqualified?

“There is reason to suspect Volkov’s operation is a lot bigger than we thought, so you got paired with the big dogs on the request of Kate Laswell,” Big alright, these men looked like they fought fires and saved kittens as a hobby. You were used to working with big army men during your years, but this task force was different and even more hardened than the others.

“Good luck with them girl, you’re gonna need it.” Jess giggled in your direction when she saw your eyes widen in surprise.

“Wait, you’re not coming with me?” You asked, snapping your eyes up from the page. Jessica had been with you this whole mission and was just as important as you were. The thought of continuing the mission without her made you feel odd, felt wrong.

“They’re having me stay here, do more research on Volkov himself. Since I’m not crazy about combat, I’m more of a stationary help over here. You always know where to find me though Minx, remember that.” And you did, you could list several ways to get a hold of the woman.

When you were ‘officially’ friends, she gave you just about every form of communication she had. It made it easy in case one of them got compromised or if there were any other complications. Giving the woman a quick hug, you waved to her as she left.

You read through the files for a moment longer, using the spare moments you had. A nervous feeling crept up at the thought of you being the only female on the team. Being a woman in the field, it had been pretty common to see a small number compared to men working. Especially after working on mostly solo missions for so long, having a team to work with 24/7 seemed weird. When they were as accredited and intimidating as they were, it made you feel as if you were going to be out of place.

Shutting the folder back up, you decided to get ready for departure and out of your feels. The 141 was a group of extreme professionals, and you wanted to get off on the right foot. Grabbing your spare items left in the med ward, you went to retrieve your items from the barracks.

It was almost bittersweet, leaving the place you had begrudgingly stayed at for the past few weeks. You had a small apartment back in your hometown, but you stayed wherever you needed to be during missions. At the moment, that just happened to be a military base in New York. It didn’t matter where you stayed since you were rarely there anyway. Most of the days were spent working, the base was just a place to sleep at night. Many took part in the nightlife around the base, but you were always too busy; too ingrained into your work.

When you first started training, you thought you were missing out on some social life. Nights spent learning how to down a man twice your size instead of getting blackout drunk at some club seemed boring in contrast. As you matured, it dawned that this was the choice you were meant to make all along. You gained more by helping people and felt proud of your decision to become a skilled agent. You hoped your family also felt the same, even though they never reached out to you.

As soon as you finished the jog over to the barracks, you grabbed your shower supplies to quickly bathe yourself before departure. The smell of the med building needed to be ridden from your body, not to mention you still felt a little clammy from the constant sweating. A hot shower was bound to fix that feeling, washing off the drug detox as a whole.

After the quick shower, you changed and packed your bags. You only ever kept mostly necessities at the bases, wanting to keep the load light. The only item you kept that had sentimental value was an old family photo, weathered by the years of you carrying it around. In the photo were you, your mother and your father.

It was way back in your childhood, showing the small family at a park. The memory was clear in your mind, even after all these years. Yet, it didn’t seem like it was your memory. It seemed as if it happened through someone else's eyes. That little girl on the swingset wasn’t the same woman who was trained to kill a man in just a few milliseconds. Those simpler days were missed, those filled with sunshine and laughter instead of grueling hard work.

Folding the image up, you set it in the bag gently. Zipping everything else up, you were ready for the flight to your newfound group.

After a few years of working in the US, you forgot how long the plane ride overseas was. Hours upon hours of you stuck in a metal box flying at ungodly speeds over a body of water. You weren’t afraid of flying, just extremely bored. It was not some luxury craft with TVs and sparkling water, you were left to try and sleep the whole ride.

Of course, nerves won your brain over instead of the sleep you so desperately craved. Your left leg bounced as you stared out the window into the vast empty plain that was the sky, thinking about the seventy-five different ways a bad introduction could fuck over yourself.

You read through the files of the 141 again out of habit, now having actual hours to spend studying your new teammates. The only one that stuck completely was that of the forces masked boogeyman, Ghost. His entire background was redacted, the black ink taking up most of the page. You decided to ask about it later, maybe he wasn’t as terrifying in person.

“So you’re telling me she’s been running this whole mission basically by herself, and Laswell has been letting her?” Soap questioned, his heavy Scottish accent coating each word. He crossed his arms in disbelief, confused by what the captain was explaining.

They had heard of the Volkov issue and you, getting the info only a few hours before you had heard of them. Price raised his shoulders in defeat, on the same wavelength as Soap. The rest of the men sat at the table, looking just as confused as Soap or just generally bored. The 141 had worked with strong women in the past, but none of them had ever worked a mission this heavy alone. They were incredibly impressed with your work, to say the least.

“Laswell says she knows her shit, you know we don’t question that woman.” Price responded, and boy did everyone know that. After many missions worked with Laswell, he didn’t know if he respected her, or was genuinely afraid of her. She was a hardworking woman, who took what she wanted. The rest of the boys at the table nodded their heads, reliving memories of her.

“She’s a jack of all trades and has been doing solo contracts for the past few years. Laswell had been keeping tabs on her and assigned the Volkov case to her,” Price held his hand out to the folder containing the info on the scientist.

“Sure she’s good, but she couldn’t have done it all on her own,” Gaz mentioned from across the table, keeping a respectful tone to his voice. He didn’t want to be offensive to his new teammate, especially since he had not yet been introduced.

“Jessica Salvatore has worked with her these past few jobs, mostly behind-the-screen activities. She is good with hacking and knows her way around a computer, so she has come in handy when infiltrating Volkov’s operations. She has also been the one reviewing the files on Volkov and keeping them up to date. Everything else has been done exclusively by Minx, any more questions?” Standing up from the meeting table, Price concluded the meeting with a pointed look. If his men had questions, they could do the smart thing and look through the files he handed out.

“No sir,” Ghost responded from his side of the table. He had no questions during the meeting and decided to flip through pages dedicated to you. It started with your background, documenting parts of your life since you graduated high school. He noted how you had training in multiple fields, and overall seemed well-rounded. He also noticed the redacted sections in your history, all too familiar with the black lines. Impressive, he could even admit, which was a lot to admit from the masked man.

Ghost saw no issues with you joining the team, as long as you had a good head on your shoulders and could pull your weight with the others. He needed a feel for how your personality was before he could say. Simon Riley didn’t just hand his trust out, it needed to be earned. Handing your file over to Soap, he grabbed the one about Volkov and the whole operation.

“Bloody Jesus, Price didn’t tell us she was hot!” Soap exclaimed when he opened the folder, causing his skull-faced companion to roll his eyes. Ghost was surprised they didn’t stay stuck to the back of his skull with how annoyed he was. He couldn’t have half the team busy drooling over you when they were supposed to be fighting to stop a drug worse than any seen before.

He just hoped that whatever hype surrounded your arrival would quickly fade out.

Ghost, of course, was incredibly wrong.

“Boys, I want to introduce you to Agent Minx,” The moment your plane landed, you concluded that Captain John Price was a decent man. He asked how the flight over was, and how your recovery the night before had been. Price was surprisingly kind, and made it seem as if he was happy with you joining the team.

Smiling at the group in front of you, you let your eyes assess your new teammates. They were all fighters, visibly bigger than the photos in their files. The men had been worn and shaped after years of demanding missions, their bodies just matching their atmosphere. Rugged muscles covered in military-grade clothing and armor, you doubted they owned regular civilian clothing.

“Pleasure to have you all assigned to this mission, god knows I need the help.” You spoke, hoping to alleviate the awkward introductions. It was a partial lie, you could’ve finished the mission by yourself you presumed. You wanted the team to feel comfortable with your presence, and accept you as one of their own. Being introduced to a team that had regularly worked with each other for years without having a new member was a feat in itself. You tried to keep a confident composure, even though you felt anything but.

Price motioned for you to sit down at the table, allowing you one last glance at the others before you did so. None of them looked visibly angry with your arrival, which was a plus. Ghost just stared in your direction, an indescribable look plastered in his dark gaze.

Other men you had worked with in the past were audibly uncomfortable with working with a female, even after seeing your skills on the field. You hoped the 141 was different, even accepting of your presence.

Volkov had been your case in the beginning anyways.

“As I spoke to you all last night, she knows the most about Dmitri and anything affiliated with his case. Any other questions that were not answered in the files I gave you all last night can be asked, only if Minx is willing of course.” All eyes were on you as you nodded approvingly. If they had questions about the report Jessica had slaved over while you recovered in a hospital bed, you were glad to answer them.

“There was no mention of his family, do you know anything of importance?” A voice asked from across the table. You matched the face to the name Kyle “Gaz” Garrick from your research.

“I haven’t been able to find anything other than mentions of a daughter. My guess is she’s holed up in some boarding school, living off of her daddy’s drug money,” Shrugging your shoulders, you replied truthfully. Gaz nodded, looking off in thought.

“In the report, it said you were forced to ingest one of the pills. What was it like?” You shifted your focus to John “Soap” Mactavish, and you had to stop yourself from laughing. He had childlike wonder etched onto his face, making his eyes almost sparkle with interest.

“I honestly couldn’t describe it if I tried. It was like heaven and hell all at once, I do not feel like reliving it.” The experience was overall terrifying, with your nerves already being so high it just made the high worse. Your body practically shut down the second Volkov’s potion set foot in it, making a treacherous path.

It felt like a blazing rod of lava placing itself in your chest, but an icicle not far behind. Visual hallucinations of the most horrifying visions known to you, showing the most gruesome memories of your life. Then moments later they would be replaced with the complete opposite, leaving your body in a state of shock. The constant state of fight or flight being replaced with deep comfort was a terrifying feeling, not knowing which one came next.

“I can see why someone would continue to do it though if you only focus on the good moments of the high.” You continued, maintaining eye contact with the mohawked man. The good moments of the high felt like the best euphoria you could ever achieve, leaving you craving more. Then that craving would return to the vile and terrifying bad moments, leaving you in a pit of fear.

“Intense euphoria paired with an even more intense down-fall. I’m just happy they got me out of that club and hooked up to an IV, any more questions?” You shivered slightly, not wanting to remember the high. It took a toll on you, mentally and physically. Thanking the med ward for the physical healing, you tried to ignore the mental portion. The things you saw couldn’t get to you, not during one of if not the most important missions you had been assigned.

You looked around the table, being met with mostly shrugs. As you passed over Ghost again, he just stared in your direction. He had not said a single word since you stepped foot into the meeting room, which made you nervous. Even sitting down, you could tell he was a massive figure of a man entrenched in a costume to hide his identity. You understood why he did it, ensuring his anonymity, but still thought it was a little goofy to do it at his home base where he was safe.

“Alright, everyone is dismissed. Soap, can you give Minx a tour?” Soap just about jumped up from his seat, a charming smile painted onto his face as he looked in your direction. He seemed as if he ran on an unlimited energy source, maybe he ran on some Scottish battery you didn’t know about.

“Let’s go, lass!” You got up from your seat, giving Ghost one last glance over before you left. That same glare was still cemented onto his dark eyes, bringing back that uneasy feeling. You decided to brush off the whole ordeal, quickly following Soap out the door. If that's how the man was, you would just have to get used to it.

Soap showed you around the small base, telling funny stories about each area. You could already tell the man had a big personality and was extremely kind. It made you wonder how he was out in the field when he was so cheerful and upbeat at the base. Even in its small size, the base was well furnished. It had a kitchen, living area, small gym, artillery storage, and shooting range. Soap commented on how each man got his room, fit with its bathroom and utilities.

“These babies have got thick walls, trust me.” Soap winked in your direction, causing you to roll your eyes playfully. Finally, you arrived at your room where you could put your items away and take a break from the welcome party. Opening the door for you, Soap told you everything else about the base you should know.

The room was plain looking, mostly a beige color. A simple bed paired with a bedside table and lamp, all the same color. It was all military grade but seemed cozy enough for your stay. Besides, after this mission, you planned on going back to your normal way of life of going from solo job to solo job.

“I saw that weird stare-off you had with Ghost earlier, he's a nice lad I promise. He’ll warm up to you, just give him some time. It took me almost dying in Mexico for him to admit he cared about me, so take that as you will,” Soap admitted, looking a little awkward as he stood in the doorway.

“His whole file was practically blacked out, it was hard to get any information on the man. Also, does he wear that mask all the time?” You asked, wanting to know more. Ghost’s file was a graveyard for black ink, with how much it used. Not much of his life or background was there, giving you a hard time getting to know him before you met the man. His real name was even redacted, not giving you much to work with.

“He does, I’ve seen him without it a few times though. The bastard made me question some things,” Soap scratched the back of his head as if he had been caught in something, causing you to cock an eyebrow. You had no issues with your teammate's identities, so you just brushed the whole remark off.

“Well that's all then, I’ll let you get all unpacked and everything else. We usually eat as a team around 1700 if you’re interested.” You smiled at Soap as he left, leaving you to yourself. The introductions made you feel a little more confident in your work with the 141, and you overall felt good. Other than being jetlagged from the trip over and not being able to rest much in the past 48 hours, you were fine. Unpacking your items, you went on your way to make the small room look like a real human being lived inside.

You assumed everyone else's room was also scarcely decorated, especially with the constant moving around. When Soap mentioned you were going to have an individual one in the first place, it was incredibly surprising. You were used to bunking with others when you worked with them, usually sharing one big bunk room. Having privacy was a newfound luxury, especially being the only girl on the team.

As you unpacked, the rest of the 141 went about their usual daytime routines. Most of them worked out or practiced on the shooting range if they weren’t sleeping or working. Ghost found himself back in his room, doing god knows what.

He was an enigma even his team couldn’t figure out at times, floating from each job to another. Between each mission, he just kind of existed. He didn’t take part in the bonding the other members did, but they didn’t resent him for it. Ghost needed his space, needed to be alone. His team respected that need, that deep solitude. They understood he had been through a lot, and in return gave him the resources he needed.

Ghost sat on his bed, holding onto your file from earlier. He had swiped it from the meeting, wanting to gain more information on you. You placed an uneasy feeling in his stomach the second you stepped foot into his life. Simon Riley never felt uneasy unless he was on the field, and he had to figure out why you made him feel that way.

There was no reason to distrust you, but he felt uneasy about working with you. It seemed odd how highly those around you spoke of you, but you had been working mostly solo missions so they didn’t know how you were on the field. You were extremely confident when you arrived, but it all seemed practiced. He wanted to figure you out, to see if you were trustworthy or not.

Earning Ghost's trust was a lot easier said than done.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #cod mw22 #cod ghost

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wicked-futures · 3 years ago

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all the (presumably) underage fans from tiktok acting inappropriately in the live chat during the dan allen gaming interview w neil ellice and samuel roukin honestly has me so disgusted 🫠 i watched about half the interview and stopped because i found myself a bit disturbed by some of the stuff i was seeing

there is a fine line between finding a character/actor attractive and going out of your way to borderline sexually harass someone in a comment section/live chat. the fact the chat had to be TURNED OFF at one point speaks enough.

the thing is too i know the people that are behaving this way are most likely from tiktok because there has been a trend for a while now where whenever the quirky side of tiktok finds their new little character to obsess over/sexualize, they have to take it to a whole new level and make it not only about the character, but the actor as well. it’s so strange to me the way these young fans act online towards grown ass fucking men. there’s nothing wrong with pointing out someone is attractive, but blatantly making inappropriate remarks and asking stuff that’s not appropriate? not okay. this pretty much happened with paul dano back in the spring and joseph quinn during the summer, and now there’s this craziness.

and i will also say this (and i know this probably won’t be taken well by some people), but if roles were reversed and these were two women and a bunch of young men were saying stuff along the same lines of what’s being said to ellice and roukin, these men would be called out for being “predators” “sexual harassers” blah blah blah.

if you want to sexualize and ogle over a character so be it! they are not a real person. but if you’re going to go out of your way to be weird to real people you need to seriously reevaluate some of your life choices.

this isn’t a matter of “gate keeping” either, it’s straight up inappropriate and gross behavior :/

please do better!!! :(

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wicked-futures · 3 years ago

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Project Minx [One]

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word-Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Misogynist creeps, Drug use

Summary: You are sent on a solo mission to track a rouge scientist to his supposed home base where he distributes drugs.

Notes: Since this is the first chapter, there is no Ghost yet... Sorry babes.

Read on AO3

People lined the street waiting to get into the club, most in varying states of intoxication. You felt out of place, not having been to a place like this in many years. The so-called ‘dress’ you were wearing did nothing to help. It was just a small piece of black fabric that left very little to the imagination. It made you feel incredibly exposed, even with the years of training you had stashed under your belt.

Somehow, you still had a pistol and a knife strapped onto your body. A chill breeze suddenly hit you, causing goosebumps to spread. A New York club in the dead of winter was not your forte, and you wanted to get this mission done as soon as possible.

The outside of “The Den” seemed like any other stereotypical dance club in the area. A basic black brick building, accompanied by blacked-out windows. Loud bass could be heard from the outside, which made you cringe internally. The constant loud background noise would make it hard for you to focus at points, especially when trying to listen to intel from your team.

Anything to get your paycheck and leave, maybe finally to take a vacation. After years of being under different contracts with different agencies, you were exhausted from the work. Yet you felt guilty for wanting to take that break since there was always another problem to be fixed. Always someone fucking up the world for the rest of everyone.

This time, it was a rouge Russian scientist. Dmitri Volkov, also known as “Wolf” had specialized in pharmaceutical sciences with their military. His career was spent researching different ways to make pain medications work faster for those on the field, and ways to help with shock. A year prior, he completely dropped off the radar.

Many ruled it suicide, but a body was never found. Authorities searched his labs, he was gone without a trace. Even odder, so was all of his working gear. Shortly after, people in the party scene in Russia started mass ODing. The drug was never found in people's systems, yet clear signs of overdosing were shown on their bodies.

Different groups sent in decoys to find the drug, or find any information on it. The off-white powder was sold in small baggies, with a wolf emblem etched onto them. Not many were aware of the ties of the ‘dead’ scientist and the drug, but that was where you fit in. It was your job to scope out the aptly named party club, “The Den.” As a partygoer, it was your job to weasel your way into the underground system. You needed to be trusted by the higher-ups and get to Volkov.

“Minx, do you copy?” The hidden earpiece spoke, jolting you from the surprise. The familiar voice of your partner helped with the nerves. Jessica Salvatore had been one of the only females in your basic training, and you stook together ever since. Even when you took the solo route when she found out you were involved with a mission, so was she.

Friends were rare to come by with your lifestyle, so you never took Jessica for granted. She knew you liked working alone but somehow weaseled her way into your ‘team’ and your life.

“Affirmative, waiting for the club to open up. I’m freezing my tits out here Jess,” You heard a chuckle coming from the other side of the comms, making you roll your eyes. She wasn’t the one in stilettos outside a club, dressed sluttier than you ever had been in your life. Even during your party days, the outfits had never been this extreme.

“I can see you, by the way, don’t forget I also have a job to do,” She mentioned, and you could practically hear the sarcastic grin in her voice. By her words, you could bet the security cam system of the club was well into your team's possession by now.

If there is one thing Jessica “Cybernaut” Salvatore was known for was her expertise in computer systems and hacking. She spent most of her teenage years behind a screen, cracking codes and creating her own. She took interest in using her skills for military use instead of becoming an IT or whatnot. You thought that was blasphemous, as Jessica could be well off by now.

But that wasn’t her lifestyle, and neither was it yours. You were never that phenomenally interested in anything during high school, drifting from club to club. Granted you weren’t terrible at them either, but nothing ever stuck. All you know is you wanted to help people, and you were also extremely competitive. An existential crisis hit halfway through senior year, and you ended up joining the military.

You quickly found out what you had been missing all those years. Learning how to fight and use weapons filled some holes you had been missing in your life. With that newfound knowledge, you pushed yourself year after year. After thousands of hours of practice, your combat skills improved tremendously. You became a lethal weapon, paired with a pretty face.

After a while, you got bored of it all. You needed a change in scenery, a different job perhaps. Multiple groups took interest in you, but you decided to be a lone contractor by yourself. This meant you picked what missions you went on, who to help, and when. It was stressful, especially with the high risks.

Most days you didn’t know if you were going to make it home alive.

The name “Minx” was slapped onto you during one of your first missions. The name seemed stupid to you at first, even sexist. Yet, you learned to love it once you realized how you could use your beauty as a weapon. Deciding to not let it get to you, you knew the name had a double meaning. It was just a part of you, alluring yet dangerous.

You noticed the line starting to move, which made your nerves inch up a little bit. A lot was riding on your shoulders tonight, and you wanted to prove yourself.

The height of your heel seemed lethal enough, you were surprised you could even walk in them. After most of your life spent in combat boots, tall stilettos were a massive change. Your feet hurt a little, but the cold numbed them slightly which you were thankful for.

With the line moving, you could finally see the door to the club in front of you. You mentally went through all of the goals in your brain, making sure everything was sorted. You focused on what you needed to do, turning off the rest of your brain. The coldness and nervousness drifted away as you were put into a focused headspace.

The bouncer scanned your ID, making sure everything matched. There was no way he was going to know it was a fake, especially since it was made by some form of government. You didn’t care who you were working with, a job was a job. As long as you worked for the ‘good’ guys, all was well. You shot him an excited smile, hoping to play the part of a partygoer well. The bouncer glanced at your body before giving the ID back, shooting a creepy smile in your direction.

“Don’t have too much fun,” He winked, a flirty tone to his voice. You tried not to cringe at the man, instead nodding at him. A quick thanks was muttered from you, and then you were off. The club was already packed when you entered, people crowded in every nook and cranny. You thanked whatever god there was that you were trained for this type of situation, and knew what to do in case hell broke loose.

You took a spot at the bar and instantly looked around the club. The whole thing was very cliche, and looked like any other bar in New York. Ordering some random cocktail off of the menu, you did your best to blend in with the crowd. While mentally taking note of every possible exit, you noticed what looked like a regular partygoer come out of an unmarked door. It might have been innocent, but it piqued your interest anyway.

“Pick up the pace Minx, we haven't got all night.” A voice spoke into your earpiece. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, you couldn’t get the whole mission done in five minutes.

Finishing your drink, you decided to join the crowd on the dance floor. You needed to see this drug in action, and what its users looked like. The dance floor met you with people who were visibly intoxicated by either drugs or alcohol. A woman in front of you was dancing by herself, filling the air with giggles. The flashing lights and loud music obscured her appearance from you, but when you caught a glimpse of her it was hard to not stare.

She noticed you watching her after a moment, turning to face you as she smiled. The woman looked like a corpse who had wandered onto the dance floor. Her ghastly pale skin seemed as though it was going to flake off any moment, and her eyes were incredibly sunken in. Even with the state of her appearance, the woman looked like she was having the time of her life.

Her eyes seemed lively yet so incredibly dead at the same time, the stark contrast threatening shivers down your spine. She was a living zombie, as were many others around her. You looked away for a moment, noticing many others that looked exactly like her. A piece of your brain clicked, remembering the symptoms of those on the drug.

Whatever was in this drug was killing people from the inside out.

“You’re really pretty, what's your name?” The corpse woman slurred, her uncomforting stare meeting yours. You smiled in return, giving her your fake name for the night. She told you her name was Becca, and she invited you to dance for a while.

“Are you bored?” She asked, her drugged gaze freezing you in your place. You nodded in response, hoping this was the lead you needed. Becca took your hand into her cold and clammy one, yanking you off of the dance floor. The earpiece you wore crackled to life again as you were whisked around the club.

“Do what she says, we’ll get you out of there if need be,” Jessica spoke, the farewell message leaving a sour note on your tongue. You decided to ignore it and noticed the woman brought you to the unmarked door you saw earlier. She turned around and opened the door, ushering you in.

The pitch-black stairway was lined with rainbow LEDs, switching between different colors. You thanked the lights for being there as you tottered down the stairs, being led by Becca. For a moment, you let your mind wander. You wondered what the young girl's life was like, especially before she got hooked on the drug. Did she have a family? A significant other? Did she abandon it all for her addiction? The thought gave you goosebumps, and you immediately went back on track

“So what have you done before?” Becca asked when you entered the basement. The whole thing was massive, looking like a whole separate club. The landscape was different, giving off a much darker vibe. The people in the basement also looked different from the rest of the clubgoers, many of them visibly rich.

“Not much, I did coke once if that counts,” You responded, trying to seem interested in the whole ordeal. It was hard to focus on the girl in front of you when there was a whole black market happening in front of you, the dangerous drugs being passed around like candy.

“This is gonna be so much better,” Becca smiled at you, and chills ran down your back. Her uneasy stare, her lifeless eyes, she looked soulless. Becca held out her hand to you before waving a man over, expecting you to pay. You pulled a twenty out of your bra and gave it to her as she grinned, visibly excited for her next hit.

She exchanged with the man, giving you the small tablet. The size of the drug was concerning, it was minuscule. It was shocking to you how small it was, and how much damage that tiny thing could do. Remembering what Jessica said, you hesitantly took the drug. You knew there were about five minutes before it started setting in, so you had to get out as soon as possible.

The last thing you remembered of that night was feeling incredibly nauseous and dizzy.

“Good morning,” A voice called from a few feet away as you finally came too. You felt as if you got hit by a semi-truck, maybe a few of them. A migraine ravaged your head, and the rest of your body felt like sludge.

“They did some tests on your blood, there's some scary shit in that drug Minx.” Flickering your eyes to the voice, you noticed Jess was sitting next to you while typing on a computer. She had a bunch of her gear and overall looked exhausted. You reckoned that you probably looked worse, having been drugged.

You didn’t ask questions about how you got out of the club, but you also didn’t care since you made it out safely. There were other objectives to worry about, like Volkov himself. He was never shown inside the club, even though that was tipped off as his headquarters. The scientist was smart, he could’ve been anywhere.

You were disappointed in yourself for not finding out more information other than securing the drug itself. It felt as if there was more you could’ve done, more contributions you could’ve added. Sitting silent in the bed for a moment, you contemplated what was going to happen next.

With security cam footage and audio recordings to back you up, you could prove how big of an issue the drug was becoming. After the testing, it was clear what was in the drug itself and how it was so addictive and dangerous. Jessica typed on her computer for a little while longer, leaving the room in silence. You assumed she was finishing the review on the mission, letting the higher-ups know you were alive and well. She sighed as she heard her phone buzzing, excusing herself into the hallway for a second.

Hospitals were nothing new to you, a painful memory of a life before. Nights spent sobbing next to a bed, praying to whatever god would listen. When your mother died, a piece of you died with her. You just hoped she was proud of what you made of yourself.

“I’ve got news for you,” Jessica re-entered the room with a grim expression on her face. You expected something extremely bad or unfortunate based on the last 24 hours.

“Higher-ups think this Volkov shit is getting way too out of hand, thinks we can’t finish it alone. They’re gonna do some more digging themselves, but in the meantime they want us to team up with a task force.” The news wasn’t all that terrible to you, more of a nuisance than anything. It had been so long since you worked with others that weren’t directly associated with you, so the idea of meeting a new group excited you.

“They’re gonna send us some info on the group ASAP, you’ll probably be up and ready to go by then. If we want to continue working on this case, we can’t do it alone.” The short timeline wasn’t anything new to you. You were used to a fast-paced lifestyle, never staying in one place long. You raised yourself into a sitting position, ignoring the protest of your limbs.

“Well, let's get started then.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod mw22 #john soap mactavish #task force 141 #john price #alejandro vargas #kyle gaz garrick #no use of y/n #eventual smut

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wicked-futures · 3 years ago

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realest post i've ever seen.

babygirl is a beautiful name for a bloody traumatized man

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wicked-futures · 3 years ago

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guys im not dead i pinky promise!

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wicked-futures · 3 years ago

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Engine Lights | sh

| pairing - steve harrington x reader (she/her)

| word count - 1k+

| summary - your car breaks down and steve just happens to be there when you're gross and sweaty. he obviously does not mind.

| warnings - swearing

You knew you should’ve stopped prodding around the vehicle's engine when it started making the odd noises, but now all you had was a smoking car. It had been hours since the car first broke down on the pavement next to your house, causing you to be irritated beyond control. Exhausted and sweaty, you collapsed against the passenger door, defeated and worn out.

It was going to be hours before your dad came home from work, and god knew if he could help. The man was just as clueless with cars as he was with his own daughter, stumbling his way through it. He tried his best, which you applauded, but applause was not going to fix the broken engine. Not to mention, you worked later in the day. You groaned at the inconvenience, mentally going through the list of people who you could call to possibly give you a ride.

Being friends with the more ‘freak’ types of people, the list was relatively minuscule. They were all out of town in the summer getting ready for college, taking part in the school's marching band, or working a summer job themselves. To put it plainly, you were shit out of luck. The other few friends that stayed back in town lived in the more run-down communities, most of them not having a car to themselves.

Sighing, you decided on trudging the three miles to work instead of just calling out. If you couldn’t find your old bike in the garage, you would make do with the resources you had. The sun blazed down onto your skin, causing the sweat to pool on your forehead. Deciding to finally get up off of the car, you readied yourself to look for the old rusty bike.

The sound of a purring engine suddenly made itself known, causing you to look up in interest. A maroon BMW rolled up to the curb across from you, the windows rolled down, some pop song pumping from the radio.

“Hey, you need help?” That voice itself almost made you drop your tools. Steve Harrington had his head out the window, looking genuinely concerned about your situation.

“I think I’m screwed at this point, thanks for the offer though,” Shooting him a weak smile, you gathered the rest of your dad's car supplies off the ground. Steve parked and got out, looking at the exposed engine of your vehicle. If the plume of black smoke wasn’t obvious enough, Steve agreed with you on the state of your car.

“Yeah, good luck with that one.” You grimaced at his response, thinking of the cost to fix it. Your gaze suddenly met Steve’s as you looked up, a blush threatening to creep out onto your cheeks.

“You gonna magically fix it, Harrington?” You shot a grin toward his direction, a playful tone in your voice. The only way you could save yourself from the nervous pit in your stomach was sarcasm, opting to joke was a lot easier than letting Steve Harrington see you blush.

“Yeah I’m a goddamn wizard, and what about it?” Steve retaliated, a glint in his eye. You rolled your eyes in response and walked up to his passenger window. You and just about everyone else in Hawkins could agree that Steve Harrington was an attractive person. His perfectly tousled hair and doe-like brown eyes brought the swarms of girls in, yet you had never really spoken to him one on one.

“I would say you’re a freak, and to at least use your powers for good.” Sticking your tongue out was definitely the most mature response to the boy. Doing just that, you turned on your heel to walk back into the house, ready for a long-awaited shower. It felt embarrassing for a borderline stranger to see you as the disgusting mess that the hot weather had turned you into.

“When do you work next?” Steve called, his hands shoved in his pocket with what almost looked like nerves.

“Today at five, why? You got a thing for girls in 50’s uniforms?” You cocked an eyebrow, slightly confused.

“Using my freak powers for good, princess! I’m bringing you to work tonight,” Steve grinned, twirling his keys as he stood there. Shrugging like offering up his time was the most obvious offer of the century. You almost passed out then and there because of the confusion and shock, Steve Harrington offering you a ride?

You were extremely close to slapping yourself in the face to wake up from this odd dream.

“What are you expecting out of it?” You asked out of the blue, trying to grasp what Steve’s real motive was. You had heard from the grapevine that his dad was cutting him off because he didn’t get into college.

“Like gas money?” Steve’s eyebrows tensed, visibly confused. He didn’t know why you assumed he was expecting something out of it. Steve wondered why he even impulsively asked you in the first place, wondering if he was actually a creep. Maybe he offered because he had a thing for the 50’s uniform, or maybe he just wanted an excuse to get a breathtaking girl to spend time with him.

“I’ll be here around 4:30, be ready!” Steve saluted as he walked back to his car, causing you to roll your eyes. You tried to ignore the way he said your name as he said his goodbyes, but the heat still spread up your face. Not only did the boy

He was borderline nervously shaking, surprised he could last that whole conversation without stuttering like a middle schooler in front of their crush. At that moment Steve wondered why he had never spoken to you all that much in high school, and wondered how he was such an ass to ignore a person like you back in high school.

The way you radiated with the sunshine, even if you were tired and sweaty drew him in. Steve was infatuated, trying not to stare as he drove off. You caught his eye as his car rolled away, offering a small wave. He never answered your question about gas money, which made you slightly annoyed. What did the boy want from you?

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♥ an - let me know how you guys like my first real post! i also apologize for any bad grammar or anything else, this was not beta read by anyone el oh el......

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve stranger things #steve the hair harrington

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