cod x reader oneshots

bad hair day - ghost

Being in the 141 didn't give us a big window for personal time. Very rarely did we get to take a nap or have a nice meal at a restaurant. Hell we never had time to even go out for a drink.

So when we got back from our last mission I was frustrated, exhausted, and anxious that my plan wouldn't work. It wouldn't even take that long. Less than an hour even.

"(Y/n) are you sure-" Gaz started. They all had been asking me if I was okay over and over. The question was making me feel less okay.

"I said I'm fine." I snapped. Price shot me a look. Gaz didn't deserve my anger he was just concerned.

But I was fine. I was alive, so of course I was fine. Or at least I would be fine if everyone could just shut up and let me do my own thing.

When the plane landed I stomped off. I didn't even care to properly put my gear away, instead just throwing it in the designated room and sulking off to my room.

When I made it to my isolated area I slammed the door shut and just stood there, breathing heavily.

"God fucking dammit!" I shouted. I began throwing whatever was in my reach. Whatever I had on my desk fell to the ground. Glass in picture frames cracked due to the impact against the wall. The sheet on my bed ripped as I screamed.

When there was nothing else for me to trash I panted and stared at the destruction. Fuck. Everything was wrong it was all too much. No. It wouldn't happen again. I wouldn't let it.

I dug through the pile of shit until I found the scissors. I grabbed them and pushed my door open, stomping down the hall to the communal bathroom.

Using a random cup I filled it with water and soaked my hair. I stared at myself in the mirror.

—- —- —-

I was our teams best sniper. It was a well known fact. My job was to be the eyes in the sky. To watch over my team.

"Targets to your left Captain." I said over the coms. I watched through my scope as Price nodded. He gave some sort of acknowledgment and thanks before dealing with the situation.

"Soap watch your-" I was cut off by a sharp pull of my hair. I let out a small shout as whoever was behind me yanked my hair pulling me back from my gun.

I could hear my team shouting my name over the radio as I struggled to get free. Shit. I struggled, trying my best to ignore the pain as he tugged and pulled at my hair. I quickly knocked his gun from his hand and it slid to the ledge of the roof.

I was panicking. The thing I was trained to not do. Only I wasn't as good in hand to hand combat as I was with my shooting accuracy.

"Get off me." I grunted as I pushed him. He was saying something but I wasn't listening. I was focused on getting free. My team needed me.

The struggle continued for much longer than it should have and eventually the man let go of my hair and wrapped his hands around my throat. I tried to kick and push him but it wasn't working. I was choking and my lungs were screaming for air.

I was going to die.

But I didn't. The sick crack of his neck snapping sounded before I noticed who was behind him. The enemy's body slumped forward and laid on me for only a minute before Ghost pulled him off me. I gasped for air and though he didn't say anything, Ghost comforted me until I was breathing normally again.

—- —- —-

My reflection stared back at me. I could see the anger and disappointment in myself. The image of the man flickered through my mind. "Fuck you." I spat at the mirror.