#heli rambles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

l0v3tast3 · 1 year

Note

141 men finding out military!reader is only 19 after they break down from being overwhelmed and overworked??

✎ this idea bounces around my head a lot actually and now i have a reason to write it down finally :) i wasn't sure if you wanted them altogether or separately so i did it separately because it's easier lol. i kept it platonic and sfw!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, reader has a panic attack, descriptions of violence/injury/death, swearing, hurt to comfort, all platonic relationships, only half proofread

you're barging into the safehouse where he had said to rendezvous, gasping for air that your closed throat won't let through. the rifle held in your dominant hand is dropped as soon as the door is shut behind you, and you're clawing at the straps of your helmet and chest armor to get them off because it's too tight and it's too much and you can't breathe.

this wasn't your first mission. it wasn't even the bloodiest one you'd been on thus far. you could handle the gore and the death and the pure misery of the victims of these situations, because at the end of the day, you were helping them, right?

unless you were too late.

the family had been huddled in a corner, two children laying underneath their parents. there had still been two other rooms to check in the house, but you were running out on shaky legs.

he's in front of you now, looking down at you and asking if you're injured. you're sitting on the floor, heaving for breath and tears pouring from your glassy eyes.

"it's not- it's not fucking fair!" you cried out finally, trying desperately to wipe your face dry on your sleeves, but it only worked to redden your skin further. "why are these people doing this? how could someone be so cruel?"

he sighed softly, not knowing how to respond. the team didn't show emotions like this, they didn't deal with them, not like this. but they had all been here, where you are now. they had all asked why, again and again and again until the word lost all meaning.

"i mean, are we even really helping? god, these people are all already dead! why are we here? why- jesus fucking christ, why am i here?" you rambled; you weren't talking to him anymore. your voice was fizzling out, getting quiet enough that he had to lean closer to hear your unsteady words.

"i can't help these people," you sobbed. "i'm just a kid, i'm only nineteen, i can't- i don't know what i'm supposed to do! they said i was special! they told me- said i was so much better and smarter than everyone else, what a fucking joke!"

☆ simon "ghost" riley

he knew you were young, but fuck, if that didn't break his heart, there was nothing left that would. simon didn't talk to you more than any of the others on the team, but you were special, like a little sibling to the team, to him. always having enough energy and kindness to make up for the rest of them.

seeing you like this was a first, even for him, the man who had seen the worst of the worst. it wasn't like he was immune to emotions, but he had spent so long pressing them all down until he couldn't feel them that this was new to him again. all he could do was offer a hand on your knee that he hoped resembled something like comfort.

"we're almost done here. the heli will come for us soon," he said quietly. "you did good, like always."

he watched and waited with you while your sobs whittled away to sniffles, never moving his hand from your knee, where you had grabbed onto it with one of your own. most people knew not to touch him, that they'd end up with one less hand if they did, but you were an exception.

☆ john "soap" mactavish

at first, he doesn't do anything, just kneels in front of you and stares in shock. you're nineteen? you had always danced around the question that the team would tease you with, asking if you still had to work on your homework, but it was always a joke. now it wasn't.

instead of dwelling, john shifts and sits in front of you, almost hovering over you awkwardly as he tried to figure out what to do. sure, he was one of the more open people on the team, but when you're standing next to ghost, just smiling makes you look emotionally vulnerable.

he takes your hands away from your face and into his, placing them on your lap before gently holding your shoulders. "look, we're almost done here, alright? we'll be far away before you know it." that didn't help much, so he paused again.

the almost-distraught look on his face forced a giggle out of you. his worry turned to confusion, why are you laughing now? you probably shouldn't have been, but the big, scottish military-man fretting over you was kind of funny.

"alrigh', lass, at least something cheered ya up," he grumbled, but turned serious again right after. "higher-ups were right, ya know. you are smarter than the rest of 'em. maybe even smarter than us, yeah?" he said with a smile.

☆ kyle "gaz" garrick

it wasn't that long ago that kyle was where you are now, fresh out of school and eager to prove himself in the military. except it had taken him several years longer than you to reach where you both were now; he had had plenty of time to come to terms with the horrors he saw.

now he realized that you hadn't, because you were smart and you were better than most other people, so they had thrown you in, like a minnow in a piranha pond. by all means, you were doing wonderfully for your circumstances, but you could only keep going for so long.

he sat down beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, and wrapped an arm around you to bring your head down to rest on him. he sat with you quietly, giving you the time you needed to just get it all out.

eventually, once you're more calm, he breaks the silence with bad jokes that he definitely stole from simon.

"why do twitter users make bad soldiers?" you lifted your head to stare at him incredulously before he continued, "because, they're too quick to retweet."

☆ john price

the captain knew how young you were. he never told you, but he hadn't wanted you on the team at first; the second he was handed your file and saw your birthdate, he started protesting. but it wasn't up to him this time. he couldn't spare you from this, and he knew that it would always weigh on him. he knew he would always remember this, you, crumbling in on yourself in a heap on the floor.

john came down on one knee in front of you and started telling you a story about when he had started, how one of his first missions had gone so terribly wrong. you honestly thought he was just going to tell you to "suck it up" until he told you about one family he had saved during that mission, one that was still alive today. they still sent him letters, even.

"all you need is one good save, kid. and you've got dozens already," he murmured. he wouldn't say it outright, but you really were one of his best.

you remembered the child clinging to your back as you ran out of a collapsing building, the woman who's leg you had managed to get unstuck from fallen debris, the man you had stopped from being executed just in time.

price smiled once he saw he had gotten through to you and helped, at least a little, and roughly patted your shoulder. "evac will be here soon, chin up now."

6K notes · View notes

x-reader-theater · 7 months

Text

Rambling Requiems

summary: You could listen to Soap talk all day if you could.

pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Gender Neutral!Reader

word count: 251

warnings: None.

a/n: i'm currently going through all the requests i have left over from my criminal minds days. don't be afraid to request more specific stuff though. just remember that i reserve the right to not write any requests i want. my requests are open and you can find my request rules here.

You’re sitting in the canteen, your chin resting on your palm, a pleased smile on your face as you listen to Soap talk about the latest mission.

“-and I actually got to blow the warehouse as we left! The explosion was glorious! Ghost had to pull me back because I kept trying to walk into it!” Soap exclaims with a chuckle. “I mean… it was fantastic…”

You smile at him, just listening as he talks. Dinner ended hours ago and the two of you are the only ones left in the mess hall, but you don’t care. You could listen to Soap for hours and not get bored. You already have.

“And, on the heli back, Ghost gave me the final detonator, and the shockwave from that explosion rocked the heli, and Ghost had to grab me to make sure I didn’t fall out! He yelled at me so much when I finally strapped myself in…”

You laugh as he says this, and his eyes finally snap back to you, to the most likely lovesick expression on your face.

“I-I’ve been rambling, haven’t I?” Soap asks.

Your eyes go wide, and you lift your head from your chin, exclaiming, “Oh! I don't mind!”

“Really?” Soap asks, hesitantly.

You hum in affirmation and nod, resting your chin on your hand again. “I wanna hear more,” you assure, and Soap relaxes slightly as he continues talking about the mission, occasionally looking to make sure he’s not boring you.

He could never bore you.

#my work #my writing #reader insert #cod mw2 #soap #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x gender neutral reader #soap x gender neutral reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x gender neutral reader #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x y/n

243 notes · View notes

lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe · 6 months

Text

Chapter 1 [IKYLHT]

~3.5k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev: 141 & Rabbit Headcanons | Next Chapter

Ghost’s initial impression of you was not necessarily a fond one.

Admittedly, he was pushing down a scoff long before the humvee even entered the far side of the compound.

So when Shepherd’s slow drawl crackled over the comms, he resigned himself to letting his frustration fester deep under his skin.

“Marines are loading in now. You and the Sergeants are leading the way on this.”

“The Sergeants?”

“Sergeant ‘Soap’ MacTavish, Gunnery Sergeant ‘Rabbit”

He held back a groan.

Not these two.

Now Ghost hadn’t minded Soap’s presence in Verdansk, he could hardly remember Johnny if he’s being completely honest. It was years ago, and if you’d told him he worked with over 50 soldiers in that month alone he wouldn't bat an eye.

It was your callsign that had pushed forward the memories of the man- hours of incessant rambling to Price about the mission you’d just come back from, updates about an ankle injury, and just about anything else he could think of. Ghost was almost surprised the Captain contently sat through it all, but he always had been a patient man.

Narrowly avoiding the elbows of your comrades shuffling off the humvee, you spot your superior from your seat next to Johnny, averting your gaze to grab his outstretched hand and drop the small distance to the ground, patting his shoulder with a smile as he turns to the lieutenant.

“Let’s get ourselves a win, yeah, L.t.? Save ya’ a seat, sir.”

Watching the man’s dark eyes brush past Johnny’s shoulder and onto your frame, you give a nod and shout, “Lieutenant, sir!”, before following Soap’s quick steps as he loads onto the heli.

Following you and Johnny’s retreating forms, he sighs out through his nose and feels his eyebrows furrow. You fist-bump each soldier you pass, all smiles and laughs as you say something that gets the soldiers talking.

Fucking hell.

“Ghost- you copy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any issues?”

“Negative, sir. Out here.”

Buckling yourself in, you watch him walk up the ramp and settle into the seat across from Johnny.

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant. I serve as this unit’s operations chief, please let me know if there’s anything I can assist you with. I go by Rabbit, sir.”

Ghost swears he feels his blood pressure rising, but stomps it down best he can and huffs a breath under his mask.

He knows it’s irrational- there really is no reason for the irritation your introduction brings him, especially when your job is centered on keeping the unit well-tempered, but he’s tired. Tired of unpacking his duffle only to be called back to base mere hours after returning to the subsidized accommodation he calls home.

He really is a sweet man. Despite his cold exterior and intimidating reputation, he was hardly ever mean with his words. Curt, maybe. Brief, blunt, clipped- all fine words to describe the man but never mean. Enough missions with him- hearing the petnames roll off his tongue when dealing with hostages, feeling the gentleness of his hands as he patches bullet wounds, seeing the way he gladly takes the bedroll by the open window to ensure his comrades aren’t harrassed by the winter breeze- one may come to believe he was actually the kindest soldier among the squadron.

So he keeps his tone level.

“Anything else?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Anything else you go by, soldier?”

“You can call me Gun if you’d like, sir. Not sure if anyone here would know you’re referring to me, though.”

He nods once, leaning back and turning his head to look towards another soldier.

“Beside me is Sergeant John MacTavish. We call him Soap, sir. You two worked alongside Captain Price in Verdansk.”

He’s quiet, nodding once to Johnny before turning again.

Crossing your arms with a smile, you nudge Soap and give a small nod in the direction of the lieutenant.

“What’d you do to piss him off?” You murmur with a poorly concealed smile.

“No idea. We hardly spoke. Was too busy tellin’ Price all about your little oven incident on base.” Soap teases with a nudge of his shoulder against yours.

You roll your eyes and nudge him back before resting your head on the now departing heli and closing your eyes. “Oh, so you were chatting everyone’s ear off like always? That explains it.”

Letting out a low chuckle, he knocks his boot into yours twice before copying your stature, arms crossed and head leaning back.

Unlike the duo, Ghost doesn’t find sleep easily.

If you ask, he’d say it was for the betterment of the mission. No team can afford a groggy, sleep-ridden lieutenant, especially not before a kill-or-capture.

In actuality, he’d always been a light sleeper, ever since he was a boy. The military hardens you, gives you the ability to sleep in cold, damp environments that make you question if you’ll wake up having grown moss. But Ghost had never gotten over his need for a solid ground to sleep on, no matter how hard he tried.

He finds himself thinking of those futile attempts once more as he sits across from the two of you, shoulders squished as you lean on each other for support in the shaking heli.

He feels a sense of deja vu, though you’re both a tad more battered than the first time this scene played out. Securing the crash site was bloody, but he recalls Johnny’s soft smile when you knocked your boot against his and asked how his bleeding head felt.

“It’s just a graze, Bun. How’s the ankle?”

“Still clicking. Don’t think it’ll ever go back to normal.”

“A shame, really. Guess fate is forcing you to stick with me. Just for the foot rubs, o’course.”

“Of course, no other reason.”

He knocks his boot against yours, twice, and ruffles your hair before he leans back into the wall of the small exfil aircraft and closes his eyes.

“Hey! You know I’m low on gel, ruin my hair again and I’ll have you written up for insubordination.”

“Cry me a river, Bugs.”

“‘Oh, good one, Johnny. Hurt my heart with that one, truly.” You tease, giggling as he tosses his MTP cap onto your head and pushes the brim well below your eyes.

“Sleep, Bunny.”

You look much better now, Ghost thinks. You’ve had a night to recoup- shower and rewrap the ankle he’s since learned you don’t go a day without tending to. The same could be said for Soap, bloody hair having been washed and cropped down an inch. He distinctly remembers hearing you snip at Johnny’s hair from the men's showers, pleading for him to grow it out at one even length and forcing the shortening regardless of Soap’s whines.

He had stopped dead in his tracks the first time he heard your voice ring out, fully convinced he was mere steps away from walking into the women’s showers and living the rest of his military career with the word ‘nonce’ attached to his image.

His internal panic was silenced when he heard an unfamiliar voice ring out.

“Just tell ‘em your hand slipped, Rabbit. We’ll vouch for ‘ya!”

“Daniel, I swear to god, I’ll shiv ya’ in yer sleep.” He hears Soap’s loud, muffled voice.

“Johnny, you move again and you’re gonna have a stripe of beard missing.”

“I’d listen to her, Soap. Oliver’s already slipped her 20 quid to give you a chinstrap.”

“You’re full of shit, Daniel!”

He did his best to ignore the two men’s loud argument as he opened the door to the showers, just barely getting a glimpse of Soap’s side profile where he sits in a small towel and faces the wide mirror, blocked by your figure as you prop one knee on the bench and trim away at his beard. His arm is lazily wrapped around your waist, keeping your balance and occasionally fiddling with a fraying belt loop.

“Hey, L.t. Hittin’ the showers?”

Ghost lets out an affirmative grunt as you turn to face him with a grin he knows by now is mildly troubling.

“Good evening, Lieutenant. Need a trim? I’ve used my model, Mr. MacTavish here, as an example of how a good, clean cut can shape up any fixer-upper. By law I must state, I am eligible to receive a small commission based on the sale of any products sold here today. So, whatchya’ thinking, sir?”

You gesture towards the half empty USO Care Package that holds generic two-in-one toiletries with a giggle that’s spurred on by Daniel and Oliver’s loud chuckles. He takes note of your freshly washed hair and knows the good mood stems from the fresh cooked dinner and warm shower you’d clearly had the opportunity of enjoying. He’d scarfed down the dinner same as you, though in his private quarters, and now wonders how you’d freshened up so fast.

He doesn’t recall Gunnery Sergeants being permitted upgraded living arrangements during deployments. Even he had to fight for authorization for an ensuite bathroom, and the showers were completely unusable. But the women’s barracks were on the other side of the compound, the showers close-by having been closed for refurbishment. You couldn’t possibly have been so fast as to have walked over there, showered, blow-dried your hair, changed into your civilian clothes, and walked back- all in a matter of minutes. Daniel and Oliver were just wrapping up their showers, and seeing by the small bottle of conditioner clutched in Soap’s hand, he isn’t far behind. Did that mean-

“Can I take your silence as a yes, Lieutenant?” You grin, wiggling the razor in your grasp.

Ghost steps around you and barks out a ‘Negative, Gun,” before walking to a shower in the far corner and pulling the curtain closed. Stripping down and turning the water on, he listens for the sounds of footsteps before even thinking of removing the balaclava. He doesn’t hear any, but rather your low voice speaking to Soap as the sounds of running water stop.

“Alright, I’m done. Go finish up.”

He scrubs the dirt and grime away as he listens to the other two men say their goodbyes as they leave, and only once he hears you chat to Soap from the bench as he conditions his hair does Ghost remove the balaclava and scrub at the greasepaint around his eyes.

He thinks back to later that night, hours after you and Soap had left the shower room he may or may not have locked by way of pressing an oddly misplaced chair firm under the handle of the door.

“Johnny, that slice is way too big. You’re gonna get a stomachache again. And this time I’m not- Lieutenant! Hello again! Take a seat, sir.”

At his lack of movement, your smile widens and you gesture toward the shared dining table.

“Please, go ahead.”

“What’s this?”

“It’s a little tradition Soap and I have. Buttermilk pie after every successful mission. I make it myself, secret recipe. Please, join us. The rest of the unit’s already had their slices.”

“We lost sight of Hassan and four of our men, Gun. You consider that a success?”

He isn’t unkind with his words, just factual.

“Johnny, am I standing here talking to our lieutenant?”

“Indeed, Bonnie.”

“And Lieutenant, would you say you feel alive?”

“Hardly.”

“I’ll take it.” You mumble, shrugging. “Sounds like a success to me. I’ll grab you a slice, sir.”

He wasn’t able to get a word out before you were shoving the flimsy plate into his chest, small dabs of whipped cream hitting his black hoodie. He moved a hand to push the plate away, but somehow you were faster in turning that hand and precariously balancing the wobbling desert plate in the center of his gloved palm.

“Please, Lieutenant. It boosts team morale. You’re here to do your job. I get that. Let me do mine.”

You’re physically able to see the breath he lets out, gently curling his fist around the desert and blinking owlishly.

“Here’s yer fork, L.t.”

Mouth stretched into a wide grin, Soap throws an arm over your shoulder and directs you down the hall and into the empty common area, grabbing the remote and switching the channel over to some old Scottish comedy movie you detest but could recite by heart.

Looking down at the now-flaking whipped cream stain, Ghost breathes out a soft growl and flips open the cabinets, grabbing a roll of cling wrap and sufficiently covering the slice of pie.

Opening the fridge, he goes to place the dessert on the top shelf before stopping to read the comically large, sparkly pink piece of poster paper taped to the bottom two bins.

Property of Sgt. Soap and GnSgt. Rabbit. Failure to comply with direct no-contact orders will result in disciplinary infractions. Don’t think we won’t notice. We see all.

Shaking his head with a small chuckle and roll of his dark eyes, Ghost turns back to the small camera he spotted lazily hidden behind the coffee machine and holds up the pie, before turning back and sliding open the first bin.

There isn’t much- some salsa, two ripe avocados, and a few Trader Joe’s microwave meals Ghost imagines cost a fortune to import.

Opening the second drawer, the bin catches on the lip of the fridge and Ghost has to shimmy it back and forth before it gives way.

Just barely keeping himself from letting out a full-bellied laugh, he’s able to catch a stray candy bar that falls from the overflowing stash of refrigerated sweets.

It’s a milk chocolate cadbury bar, and he only slightly over-exaggerates his movements in brushing his hand over the top of the pile before discreetly palming the chocolate bar up his sleeve.

“Don’t think we won’t notice. Hmph. Don’t know how you could, fuckin’ mountain of sweets.”

Rifling through the pile, he passes a collection of English candies amongst some Scottish sweets he doesn’t recognize. He notes the small collection of American candies at the bottom of the bin, some he could’ve sworn was banned in the UK around the same time he was still working as an apprentice butcher at the grocery store. Something about red dye or sprinkles or choking hazards, he can’t care enough to remember.

Regardless, he does his best to smush down the pile without crushing anything, once again wrestling the bin closed.

“Fucking hell, half these don’t even need to be refrigerated.”

He scoffs a low laugh as he places the pie in the first bin, barely half full. Securing the sign once again, he rises to his full height and closes the fridge. Making eye contact with the freezer, he shakes his head and walks off with a murmur.

“Don’t even wanna know.”

“-Sir?”

Your voice has his eyes snapping to yours before doing a quick one-over of the helicarrier.

When did the sun rise?

“You okay, sir? Called you a couple times.”

He doesn’t recall hearing you, doesn’t quite recall falling asleep either, but he can’t think of any other way he’d get distracted so easily.

He looks back over to you as you stretch out your arms, giving a nod.

“Freaked me out a little. You, uh… you didn’t blink. For like five minutes. Thought you were having a ‘Nam flashback or something.”

His lack of response and owlish stare has you laughing sheepishly, instead choosing to pat Soap’s thigh, nudging your shoulder against his and stirring him awake.

“Johnny. C’mon, wakey wakey. We’re starting descent.”

Soap mumbles something incoherent but doesn’t open his eyes. You wrap your arm around his shoulders and shake him with a laugh.

“No no no, John, don’t fall back asleep. You’ve got ten minutes to liven up.”

Turning to Ghost, you nod with a small smile.

“Lieutenant. I saved an extra for you, sir.”

You reach into the small cooler beneath your seat and pull out a milk chocolate cadbury bar.

“Since you like them so much.” You add with a wink, closing the cooler and strapping a medieval looking chain lock that definitely surpassed overkill. The tips of Ghost’s ears turn red, and though you couldn’t possibly see that through the balaclava, he swears the mirth in your eyes proves otherwise.

“Grab me anythin’, Bun?”

Rummaging around before handing Soap an Irn-Bru, you look out the small, round window and sigh happily.

Lifting the cooler lid, Ghost nods to a small portion of the sweets at the bottom of the container.

“Weren’t those discontinued?” he asks, glancing over at you as you ignore him in favor of unbuckling yourself and walking towards the cockpit, an excited hop to your step.

“She has ‘er ways, L.t. ‘S Probably best not to question it.” Soap chuckles with a smile and a shake of his head, popping open the can and suppressing his smile in between sips of the sweet drink.

“What’s got her so giddy, then?”

“Closest she’s been to home in a while. Plus, she used to visit Mexico a lot when she was a kid, stationed on-and-off for a few years, too. Don’t mention it, though.” He says, nodding his head in your direction where you exit the cramped cockpit.

“Pilot says we’re three minutes out. I’d eat that chocolate while you’ve got the chance, Lieutenant.”

You turn, taking Johnny with you, and go back towards the cockpit where a few spare medkits lay in boxes. He watches you noncommittally skim your hands over a few of them, and he realizes you’d given him the opportunity to eat in privacy.

He’s tempted to just sit and time how long you’d stay with your back turned. Watch and see if you’d risk falling on your ass as the heli roughly lands if it means he could have an additional few seconds of peace.

But if there’s one guilty pleasure Ghost will always allow himself to indulge in, it’s chocolate. He’s always had a sweet tooth, something about the rich, milky cocoa dessert brings him back to a memory he can’t quite recall but knows feels right.

He doesn’t lift the balaclava, though he probably could’ve with the amount of time you two spent with your backs turned. It’s barely noticeable, but as he slips the small squares of chocolate under his mask and to his lips, he spots the start of a thin, smooth scar trailing a few inches under your right ear to the start of your spine. The scar gets thicker as it trails down, evidence of a deeper wound, and he wonders if you feel just as vulnerable turning your back to him as he does slithering his only free hand under the mask and past the pale scars that decorate his soft lips.

Folding the wrapper and stuffing it into one of the free pockets of his tac vest, he loudly clears his throat and unbuckles himself.

Turning back and smiling, you walk back to the pilot and clap his shoulder with a ‘thanks, James’ before settling back in your seat next to Soap and allowing the landing to jerk you half out of your seat.

He looks towards the pilot, squinting his eyes but only able to see his outline with the harsh sun glaring through the windshield.

He’s not able to get his sights on the man before the ramp is lowering and he’s following Soap in meeting the Colonel.

“Alejandro”

“Sergeant MacTavish”

“Call me Soap”

“Lieutenant. Laswell says they call you Ghost.”

“Actually, I believe he prefers to be-”

“That’ll do.”

Nodding as he fights back an amused grin, Alejandro looks past the two men.

“Gunnery Sergeant Rabbit. What’s in the cooler?”

Whipping his head to turn to you, he almost lets out a sigh. Really, he should’ve expected it by now, but wishful thinking had him hoping you’d leave the cooler of sweet snacks for the pilots to enjoy.

“Doubloons.” You smile, setting the cooler at your feet and shaking Alejandro’s hand. “Colonel Vargas. Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Welcome to the ‘City of Souls’.”

Picking up the cooler, Soap looks out at the rising sun before turning back to Alejandro.

“I’ve never been to Mexico.”

“This isn’t Mexico. This is Las Almas.”

Giving his strong arms an appreciative squeeze, you position yourself between him and Ghost, listening attentively to the Colonel’s words.

“Shephard’s contractors are inbound to reinforce. They’re bringing hardware, they’ll need room. My base is your base.”

“Good. Now, where’s Hassan?”

“Cartel safe-house, ten clicks from here.”

Opening the door and throwing the cooler behind his seat, Johnny reaches a hand out and leads you to the center seat, grabbing the buckle and strapping you in.

“No fun.” You pout and whisper quietly, breaking into a smile as he shoves himself into the cramped seat and knocks his boot into yours with a pat to your thigh.

“This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.”

“Tengo miedo de los fantasmas”

Fighting back a smile, you turn to Ghost.

“Mhm, Fantasma. Sounds sexy. I think that’s what I’ll call you.”

Ghost’s glare settles deep into your soul, but it got a chuckle from the rest of the car- and it’s not like that glare didn’t pleasantly spike your heart rate- so you brush it off with a smile.

“You know Spanish?” Alejandro turns back, but Soap is quick to speak.

“No.” He bumps his boot into yours.

Alejandro lets out a chuckle as he turns back towards the road.

“You will.”

307 notes · View notes

blood-grove · 18 days

Text

Werewolf Bites

nausea -> next stage of infection

tws; sickness , injuries , vomiting , violence, no use of y/n

parings: gaz x male reader (established relationship)

-> c/n - call sign

-> n/n - nickname

a/n: hehehe im excited for this. also idk how military shit works im winging it your here for gaz no complete accuracy

Why did it have to be you.

You had missed a room while clearing out this corridor of the building this mission was supposed to be a easy co-op with you and Gaz.

But now your were trying to claw off this big fucking dog from ripping your throat out your gun somewhere dropped in surprised of getting lunged at.

It sunk its fangs deep into your shoulder dangerously close to your neck as blood spewed and your cried out in agony you finally got a hold of your combat knife sinking it into the dogs body repeatedly till it slumped over dead.

Shoving the corpse off you, You bit your tongue as burning pain flared up in your shoulder Gaz's crackly voice over your radio finally audible now with the lack of your cries of pain and dog growls.

"c/n? c/n how copy?"

You swallowed back the bile building in your throat as you heaved grabbing your radio flicking it on shakily as tried to focus with the searing pain in your shoulder.

"c/n here— fuck" You hissed as you pushed yourself up with your good arm.

"c/n? give me a sitrep you went silent on me."

"..Fuckin' dog got me- I opened up a room and the fucker pounced huge fuckin' thing." You looked over at your wound grimacing at the sight of bruising blooming as blood trickled down your arm near excessively.

"Shit..Can you make it back to the main entrance?..I got the files ill radio for exfil."

"I..I can"

"c/n."

"I can"

"Alright."

You flicked your radio off as you trudged your way back where you came.

"Bloody hell c/n you gotta be more careful."

Gaz gently chided as you huffed wincing.

"Your lucky the fucker didn't rip your throat out.."

You grumbled looking aside the future rabies shots were not going to be a pleasant thing to be welcomed with when you both reached back at base.

"You alright..? Looking a bit pale."

"M'fine..Just..A bit woozy."

"Mm..exfil is a another hour or two out still don't go all rabies on me before then how about that."

You chuckled dryly as you blearing blinked as you leaned over dry heaving before puking your guts out catching Gaz off guard as he steadied you so wouldn't fall over into your own bile gently rubbing your back.

"Fuck..It's okay..Christ."

Coughing and gagging the unpleasant taste of bile lingering in your mouth as Gaz helped you sit down away from your mess.

"Just..Just sit down and rest..When we get home they'll fix you right up no? You'll have a killer scar after this all."

You got hummed coughing as Gaz wiped your face clean despite how you mumbled how gross it was as he kissed your forehead shushing your incoherent ramble.

You hadn't gotten any better and the exfil wasn't that far away now Gaz updated you as he held you close you were sweating bullets managing to keep down the water from your canteen.

He assured and updated on the helis time frame to reach you both, You could tell he was nervous never the best at hiding his emotions from you even in this fever ridden mess you were.

"There gonna be here soon love, Mm? Gonna get you back in shape..Hows the shoulder?."

You mumbled swallowing thickly as you shifted in his arms.

"You gotta speak up for me Lovie tell me how you are?"

"M'all sticky.."

"Well I'd guess so your sweating buckets..They'll be here soon okay?"

He sighed as he rana hand threw your near damp hair eventually giving you a few more sips of water as you both waited.

Exfil was quick a another solider helping you up into the heli a medic waiting along inside that went to work on you as you were laid onto the floor.

But all you remembered was falling asleep and awaking on the warm earth.

Running your hands threw the soft soil as you sat up a chill still rattling your bones.

"Gaz?"

You called out as you looked around cautiously your hand drifted too your holster to find it gone along with all other gear gone.

You felt bare exposed like a nerve the flicker and twitch of muscle felt like tremors in the earth as you looked around you saw nothing but forest.

"Kyle?"

Still nothing.

You frowned as you looked around you felt so warm you guessed it was the sun beaming down on you.

You hadn't been walking long till you reached a river bed the sudden parched feeling in your thought becoming know as you greedily gulped down water.

What was even going on?

You felt like you hadn't drank in days.

When you looked up you flinched at the sight of the dog that attacked you.

Or at least you thought it was a dog at the time.

It just stared at you, Yellow eyes staring you down as foam dripped down from his maw the foam slowly bubbling up into a pinkish tinge as blood dripped from its mouth .

It probably had rabies.

You did too.

You hoped.

#cod #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x male reader #reader #werewolves #werewolf au #hehe #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick #call of duty #no use of y/n #hehehhe

40 notes · View notes