Call of Duty Oneshots

Absolutely (Sandman)

"Two margaritas please!" your friend slammed down money for the drinks.

"I'm not drinking that shit!" you hadn't wanted to come to the club with your crazy friend.

"Oh come on, have a little fun for once!" she pressed, holding out a drink towards you.

"No," you were stern.

"I'll share it with you then," a handsome guy walked up to your friend with a smile.

Your friend winked to you and then danced off with the man as she teased him with the drink. Shaking your head, you walked up to an open spot at the bar. The bartender looked to you after helping a man.

"Just a water," you blinked.

A few seconds passed and you gripped a short glass of cold water in your hands. You stared at the glass, the condensation soaking your palms. You couldn't wait until it was time to leave. With the attitude of your friend, you knew that would practically be never.

"Let's dance pretty lady," a drunk man came up to you, tugging on your hand.

"Um, no," you flung away. "Leave me alone."

"Oh come on," the man reeked of alcohol. "I know a secret spot."

"Leave me alone," you repeated, trying to focus on your water.

The man clutched onto your wrist, making you let out a small yelp. Few people had turned to look at what was going on and you felt completely helpless at the moment.

"I think she told you to leave her alone," a deep, stern voice made relief flood through you.

"Oh, yeah," the drunk man moved away, releasing your wrist.

You faced the glass of water again. Another man slowly sat next to you, making your shoulders tense.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," you glanced at the man's face.

Light facial hair made his face even more handsome than it was. His hair, a dirty blonde, was short, yet styled back to reveal his sharp jaw and tan skin. Bright blue eyes sparkled in the sporadic lighting that changed color each time, while lingering over your face with amazement and curiosity. The man's form was tall, at least six feet, and muscular, making your face heat up.

"What's your name?" the man held a small smile, enough of one to prove he wasn't drunk.

"Y/N," you swallowed. "Yours?"

"Everyone calls me Sandman," you stifled a laugh to the name by sipping on your water.

You felt his gorgeous blue gaze on you as you drank some more water. Surprisingly, you didn't feel uncomfortable, but more curious.

"Two vodka martinis," Sandman suddenly spoke, never moving his gaze off of you.

As Sandman positioned one of the cocktail glasses in front of you, you shook your head. "Thank you so much for the thought, but I won't drink."

"Can't or won't?" Sandman tested, making you look to him in surprise. "One isn't going to ruin your life forever."

Gulping, you slowly nodded and gripped the handle of the glass. Sandman raised his glass up to his lips at the same time you did. The burn was strong and you slammed the empty glass down, squinting your eyes and biting your lower lip as you did so.

Sandman let out a laugh as you righted yourself. "Have you ever had a drink before?"

You were hesitant, afraid he would make fun of you. "No."