Call of duty one shots

The chill of November hung heavy in the air, wrapping the world in a blanket of muted grays and browns. Y/N stared out the window, her fingers brushing the soft fabric of the curtains as she watched the leaves tumble from the trees, each one whispering stories of change. It had been months since the rift between her and Ghost had turned from fiery passion to a cold war. Their last fight lingered like the scent of burnt toast, irreversible and painful.

Damien, her five-month-old son, gurgled in his crib, blissfully unaware of the tension that permeated their home. Y/N sighed, recalling happier memories—a time when laughter rang through their halls and love could be found in every corner. Now, silence ruled the space where Ghost used to be, his absence a ghost that haunted her days.

Ace, an old friend of both Y/N and Ghost, had been a pillar of support in the storm. He came over to check in, often bringing care packages and a touch of humor that soothed the jagged edges of her heart. As the days turned into weeks, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way Ace's presence opened up a door that she thought long shut. He had always been there, reliable and caring, and somewhere beneath her guilt, she felt a yearning twisting within her.

When Ace suggested the challenge of No Nut November, she had nodded, a half-hearted agreement. They had laughed about it then, but inside, she was aching. It had been so long since she felt the warmth of a touch, the thrill of connection. Ghost had slipped away not just from their home but from her heart, leaving her a hollow shell.

And yet, the ache couldn't be ignored. As November rolled on, each day dragged heavily for Y/N, filled with the mundane tasks of motherhood and the solitude of an unshared life. She felt the undercurrent of her desires, but she pushed it deep down, reminding herself of her commitment to Ghost.

Then came November 20th, her birthday—a day that once sparkled with promise, now cloaked in sadness. Ace had surprised her with plans, whisking away the kids to her mother's house to prepare a candlelit dinner, the flickering flames offering a warmth she hadn't felt in far too long.

The evening unfolded with the soft glow of candles illuminating the dining table set for two. The clink of cutlery, the rich aroma of home-cooked meals, and laughter rang through the air. Y/N was charmed by Ace's thoughtfulness; he had curated the evening to spark joy in her heart, a light in the depths of her shadowed days.

After dinner, as they returned to her place, the mood shifted. Y/N felt a pull, an electric magnetism igniting like fireworks across a dark sky. She turned to Ace, her heart racing, half of her screaming to hold back, but the other half, laden with loneliness and need, urged otherwise.

"Thank you for tonight, Ace," she whispered, gratitude laced with temptation. The words hung between them, heavy with possibility.

Ace took a step closer, his eyes searching hers, filled with understanding. "You deserve this, Y/N. More than you know."

In that moment, she made her choice. The guilt bubbled inside her, but the ache for connection overrode it. She leaned in, feeling the warmth radiate off him as their lips met. What started as a gentle brush ignited into something more fervent, revealing crippling desire that had been pent up for far too long.

As they melted into each other, it felt like a moment suspended outside of time—just two souls lost in a world filled with chaos and heartache. She knew it was wrong, that Ghost's absence wasn't a justification for seeking solace elsewhere, but she couldn't deny the happiness, however fleeting, that bloomed within her.

In the shadows of dim light, they surrendered to the moment, wrapping each other in the warmth that had long been absent from her life. She tried to banish thoughts of Ghost from her mind, instead focusing on the man before her, the comfort of arms around her, the heady rush of safety and desire intertwining.

As dawn broke, the reality of her choices loomed large over her. Y/N lay next to Ace, watching the sunlight filter through the curtains. Guilt washed over her with the clarity of day—it had felt so right but was so wrong.

Maybe she was chasing a ghost—one that had once been alive and well, vibrant in their love but now faded into memory. Yet, standing at a crossroads of her own making, Y/N couldn't help but wonder if this inflection point could spark the flames of a new beginning or more chaos. She had taken a step into the unknown, recognizing now that ghosts weren't always the past; sometimes, they were the choices we had yet to face.