Call of Duty Oneshots (Mostly Ghost)

pursuit.

Simon Riley was a dead man.

A dead fucking man.

Nothing made me more angry than someone deceiving me in such a way as he did. I'd been betrayed to the point where I didn't think I could trust him again.

I told him my secrets, my aspirations, my goals.

And all of it was now tarnished, because of his stupid, selfish needs.

It fumed out of me, and I felt as though I was going to be set on fire as I stormed through the hallways, looking for the culprit behind my provoked state. I wanted to wrap both my hands around his greedy throat and rip him a new windpipe.

"Where is he?" I barked out as soon as I saw Soap.

A knowing grin plastered across his lips, and it only made me more irate. "Ah dinnae ken," he replied with a shrug.

Another liar.

My hands clenched by my sides, trying to keep composure as I seethed. "You do know, I see it on your face. Where is the damn lieutenant?"

His hands went into his pockets, that same roguish smirk lifting his lips as if we shared the same joke but I just didn't know the context. "Somewhere, I believe, on base."

"You are no help, and if I find out you're involved, too, you're next!" As I spoke through gritted teeth, I jabbed a finger in his direction.

I didn't let him reply with some sarcastic-ass retort as I whipped my body around and headed in the opposite direction.

"Somewhere, I believe, on base," I muttered to myself, mocking a horrible Scottish accent, absolutely fuming from the ears.

I looked everywhere.

Gym, kitchen, office, armory, and shooting range.

And it only added fuel to the fire boiling in my guts when every place I looked came up with no Simon Riley for me to throttle.

There was only one place I could feasibly think of that might be holding the Brit secure, hiding him away so that I wouldn't find him.

I would find him, though. I would find that damn safe place of his if it was the last thing I did.

I smelled the wind of cigarettes before I saw him.

He leaned against the outside wall, blissfully unaware that he had been stalked out for this whole time, finally caught.

"You!" I snarled as soon as I stepped close enough.

His eyes widened and quickly turned only his head to look at me, cigarette between two fingers, and only two words were uttered from his lips I knew would taste just like tobacco, "Oh fuck."

"Yeah, 'oh fuck' is right. You better fucking run, Simon Riley, or I swear to God!"

The half-smoked cigarette was flicked onto the ground before he darted in the opposite direction, around the corner, and I was given no other choice but to chase after him.

We passed by a couple of recruits, paying no mind to their confused faces as they wondered why a Shadow angrily chased after their lieutenant, and he was easily losing me with his longer legs.

Jesus, I hated running.

I especially hated running after traitors.

Turning the corner toward the back of the building, I pursued the cowardly Brit, and instead of meeting open air as I'd expected, my face planted itself into hard a chest composed of muscle and the fabric of a shirt covering it.

"Oof!"

A hand grabbed my chin, fingers digging into my cheeks and forcing me to look up to meet his amused, brown eyes, reminding me of the damn chocolate he'd stolen right from under my bunk.

"You fiend!" I growled immediately once I'd realized the predicament, curling my hand around his wrist, my other palm flatly pressing itself on his heaving chest.

It seemed that I had fallen into his trap, instead.

I was his prey now.

"It got you where I wanted if I'm being honest." His tone imbued nothing but hunger as if he hadn't his fill of stolen pickings. "And don't pretend the chase wasn't fun."

He leaned into me, taking the breath right out of my lungs as if he were breathing me in like the cigarette he'd just tossed.

With my brow still creased in irritation, my voice came out more like a pout. "You stole my sweets."

"I'll trade you for something sweeter, then."

Closing the distance between us completely, he wasted no time in claiming my lips with his. In one swift movement, he hoisted me high enough to pin me against the concrete wall, so that he could reach my tongue better and that my legs could easily wrap around his waist.

Although, I couldn't say it was quite stealing this time around when I willingly gave up whatever delectable sweets he wanted.