Masks and Scars: A Ghost x FemReader Story

Mine

Valkyrie

After a tumultuous few days, battling with your emotions and flashbacks from the past, you decide to pull up your big girl pants and get on with it. The stitches in your back are holding fine after Ghost had the doctor check them. You were scolded for not coming straight to him, but Jamie was used to you avoiding him so he didn't take it personally.

You gear up, ready to head down to where the new recruits are doing hand-to-hand combat. The sounds of fists against flesh make me smile. Perhaps a good spar is just what you need to get out of your own head.

As you walk into the room, recruits are lined up against one wall with a boxing ring taking up the left side of the room. Punching bags and sparing mats sit on the other side.

Soap notices you the second you walk into the room, smiling at you. "Knew you'd get here in time for the fun," he says joyfully.

"Wouldn't miss it. What we got?"

Each recruit will have a different background, coming from different countries and regiments, but each will have gone through a rigorous selection process to get to this point. It doesn't mean they'll all get to join the different task forces under General Shepherd's command.

He only takes the best of the best after all.

"A bunch of boys wanting to play soldier," Soap says. "Want to show them how it's done?"

One of the recruits against the wall scoffs. "She's a woman. How is she going to train us?" His cocky attitude already puts you on edge. You've dealt with people like him throughout your whole career and yet it still makes your blood boil.

"You," Soap points at him. "In the ring, now. You two take a break."

The two men in the ring step out while the cocky little shit pales at Soap's harsh tone. Like a protective big brother, he never fails to come to your defence when needed.

Soap waves his arm out in an over-exaggerated gesture. "Your stage awaits."

You roll your eyes at him, smiling as you take off your vest. Soap takes your equipment and places it on the table behind you as you step into the ring.

"What's your name?" You ask the recruit in front of you.

"Kyle," he says cockily. "Why? Wanna take me on a date?"

You shake your head. "No, just wanna know who I'm failing when I put you on your arse."

He panics instantly. "W-What?"

"The woman who you insulted is on the board of deciding who makes it to the next stage," one of the other recruits calls out in an American accent. "Valkyrie is the best of the best."

You smirk, quite enjoying the fact your skills are known over in the US. Soap lets out a laugh too while Kyle looks ready to shit a brick.

"You survive the next five minutes without tapping out and we'll see about letting you go any further," you tell him. Whatever apology he's got cooking up means fuck all to you. His actions are what you're interested in.

Soap sets a countdown and you start to circle Kyle. The adrenaline pumping through your veins silences the thoughts that have been taking over for the last few days. You concentrate on his movements, dodging his poorly timed jabs, letting him tire himself out while you judge his fighting style. It only takes you a few seconds to notice how he favours his left hand and leaves his legs open to attack.

When you manage to land a punch to his ribs on the left side, Kyle's eyes widen, no doubt in shock. Your strength is something no one ever seems to bank on when they fight you.