Call of Duty: One-Shots

The Captain & His Daughter

Y/N Version; Originally from Short Stories

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"Oi, Y/N! Grub's up!" John hollered from the kitchen, flicking off the stove. "Y/N, love!" He bellowed toward the stairs, "I hope you're not buried in that blasted book again... Y/N Y/M/N!" He stood at the foot of the stairs, shaking his head. "Blimey, that kid..."
Y/N was hunched at her desk, headphones clamped on, surrounded by science textbooks. She was trying to cram for exams while her favorite tunes blasted in her ears. She caught a faint thumping during the song, yanked off her headphones, and turned to see her dad poking his head into her room. "Oi, Sunshine, didn't you 'hear me yelling your name?" "Sorry, Papa," she said with a cheeky grin, "had my headphones on." John raised an eyebrow. "How long have you been at that, then?" Y/N shrugged. "Dunno, few hours?" John let out a dramatic sigh. "Need an exact count, Y/N/N." Y/N glanced at her phone. "About 4 hours, I reckon." "Blimey, Y/N, you study too much! You need to get out, have a life!" Y/N rolled her eyes. "Dad, I'm at the top of my class with no mates. Where am I supposed to go? Most fun I get is thrashing Soap and Ghost at cribbage." John chuckled. "Alright, alright. I swear, I'm going to have to ban you from studying. Now come get some scran."Y/N hopped up and followed him downstairs. "Could be worse, I suppose. I could be into... I don't know, taxidermy or something." John chuckles as they sit down to eat.

"Chuffed to be graduating this year, innit?" John asked as they tucked in. "Aye. About bloody time, too!" She shot back with a grin. "So, what's the plan after you chuck your mortarboard in the air?" John asked, eyeing her. "Was thinking about signing up for the Special Forces," Y/N said, choosing her words, knowing how her old man would flip. "Oh, hell no, Y/N/N. You can forget about that nonsense right now."
"But Da-"
"No, Y/N. I already told you, no military. We had this out months ago. I ain't budging on this, love." John's voice was firm.
"Papa, I'm 18. I can make my own decisions." "And I'm your father. I said no, and that's final. No more arguing, got it?" He gave her a hard stare, not wanting his little girl anywhere near that kind of danger. "Dad, 'ear me out! My skills would be a real asset..." "Y/N Y/M/N," John cut her off, his tone sharp. Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. "This ain't over, John." "Oh, but it bloody well is," he said, equally stubborn. They were quiet for a short while, simmering down from the little spat.
Y/N finished eating and cleaned her plate. "I need to finish up for the tests tomorrow." John shook his head slightly amused. "Love, rest. You're gonna do fine without studying for one night." Y/N softly smiled. "Dad-"
"Do I need to say it's an order?"
"Dad!"
"I said rest. You've earned it. I'll put food up. I better see your books put away when I get up there."
Y/N rolled her eyes as she went up the stairs. "Fine." She spoke, feigned annoyance.

John had cleaned up, proud that his daughter wasn't a troublemaker like some kids her age.
He ascended the stairs, poking his head into her room like he said he would. "Oi! What did I say about resting?" Y/N slightly jumped. "To do it." She spoke softly, facing her dad.
"Aye. And what are you doing instead?"
"Studying."
"Aye. You're gonna hurt yourself, love. Put it away. Blimey, Y/N/N..."

Y/N puts her books away, though reluctantly. "Most parents want their kids to study this much." Y/N points out. "Aye, but you study every day as soon as you get home. You ain't out there being a plonker, which I'm proud of. You still need rest, Sunshine."
"Alright, alright. Suppose it's getting late anyway."
"Goodnight, hinny. I've got an early morning, so I won't see you till tomorrow night."
"Alright. Goodnight, Papa."

Y/N walked home from school, her mind on the tests she had that afternoon. I feel like I could've done better. Those tests were grueling. Dad will be proud either way, I suppose. How am I gonna convince him to let me join the military? Maybe I should stop asking and just do it anyway. If I'm accepted to the task force, he ain't got a say in it, right? Ghost and Soap warned me against it as well-- The bloody hell is that sound?
Suddenly, a van screeched up beside her, the door swinging open. A burly Russian man lunged out, grabbing her.