Call of Duty Oneshots

I Will Always Find You | Simon 'Ghost' Riley

You were flipping through the channels on TV, uninterested in anything that popped up. Sighing after settling on an older horror movie, you relaxed into the couch.

It was nearly midnight, the house was dark except for the light from the TV. The movie was one you'd seen before, the typical psycho who stalks the main characters, killing them off one by one.

You felt your phone buzz next to you on the couch. Picking it up, you saw a message from an unknown number. You rolled your eyes and groaned quietly. Simon. Always Simon.

After a nasty fight over his obsessive ways, you finally decided to split from him. You had always felt safe but sometimes you just felt he went a little too far. Like the time a man simply held a door open for you and received a broken hand in return. "That's my job, dickhead." He said in a murderous tone as he stood over the poor man as he gripped his twisted hand.

I'm sorry, I won't do it again.

You glared at the message on your phone in disbelief. It wasn't that he missed an important date or something that could be forgiven with time. He didn't ruin your favorite shirt or throw away your left overs. He nearly killed a man for buying you a drink. When he was arrested a few nights ago, you'd thought you had some breathing room but it seems Price and Laswell had some strings pulled for him, like always.

Leave me alone, Simon.

You felt like your throat began to close. Nerves on end, you knew he wouldn't let you go that easily. He'd never hurt you, though. The same hands that mangle limbs and beat someone nearly to death were the same ones that caressed the strings of your heart, playing the perfect melody that it seemed only he knew the notes to.

Just as you turned your attention back to the TV, you heard a car door slam shut. Panic surged through your limbs, making you shake internally. It went impossibly quiet as you heard the familiar sound of boots thudding against the concrete that led to your door.

You pushed yourself off the couch and made it halfway up the stairs when a loud kick made the door fly open and hit the wall. You turned down the hall, the corner of your eye catching Simon stepping inside the house. You knew that stride. He had one goal, and one goal only. To get you back.

This wasn't the first time he acted this way. When you asked for space, he only respected it for a day or two before the same impatient kick let him get closer again. No that you really fought it. It excited you to be desired this badly, desperately. You just wish it didn't have to end in violence and broken bones every time someone of the opposite sex showed you any type of attention. 

Rushing to your bedroom, you heard his quick steps coming up the stairs. "Y/N, I'm not in the mood for this." He said with a dark, impatient tone. Before shutting your bedroom door, horror filled your chest as you saw Simon running towards you. His black hoodie and skull mask made him look all the more menacing.

You froze for only a second but you shoved the door shut. Relief soon gone, you felt resistance on the other side of the door just before it shut all the way. "Simon, stop!" You begged. Knowing his strength after seeing it so many times, you stepped back quickly. "Sweetheart, I don't want to do this tonight." His tone stayed dark.

Backing away from him as he took slow, domineering steps towards you. He pushed the hoodie off his head then pulled his mask off. The scars usually alluring were now somewhat daunting. Lights from outside your window were illuminating his equally haunting face, his smile so smooth yet sinful. His tired eyes burning with impatience. He tilted his head, "Why are you afraid of me," a laugh sounded in his throat, "I'd never hurt you, dove. Not unless you begged for it."

You kept backing away from him until you hit the wall behind you. He stood over you, his eyes burning into yours and you swore you could see what remained of his patience diminish. His hand traveled up your chest like a spider crawling ever so gently up a wall. When it reached your bare collarbone, fear vanished and lust erupted. He placed his hand around your throat. Another chilling smile, "There's my good girl." He soothed as he squeezed his hand. You melted into his grip, lightning shooting up your back before spreading over your skin. You smiled at him with a delirious grin.

He leaned down, kissing your forehead, leaving his lips against your skin for a moment before pulling away, "You can run anytime you want, but I'll always find you." lifting your shirt just enough to slip his fingers in your waistband, they brushed against your skin until he could slip them inside you. He leaned close to your ear, "And then fuck you."