Call of duty one shots

The sound of raindrops drumming against the window was a familiar, yet alien rhythm to me. It was the kind of sound that used to soothe my heart—a soft lullaby to carry me to sleep. Now, it felt like a warning. Each drop reminded me of the fragments of my life now scattered like leaves in the wind. I crossed my arms tightly across my chest, trying to shield my heart from the chill that had seeped in since discovering Ghost's betrayal. It had been weeks since I found out about his infidelity, a betrayal that pierced deeper than any knife. Now, a part of me was hollow, a shell left to bear witness to the tempest of my emotions.

Six months pregnant. I was terrified to let that truth sink in fully. In the beginning, it had filled me with dread; a chaotic swirl of anxiety and fear for the future. Now, it felt more like an anchor, weighing me down yet oddly comforting, binding me to something pure amidst the wreckage of my life. Despite the life growing inside me, I felt invisible, a ghost myself in this house I used to call home. He would bring women in and out as if I were merely a shadow, existing only to facilitate his pleasure.

That night, I had sought escape. The park was my refuge. I stepped outside, letting the cool night air wash over me, but didn't anticipate the storms brewing overhead. The heavens opened up, and rain fell heavily, drenching me through my white shirt, the fabric clinging to my skin like a second layer, accentuating the red bra I wore beneath—an awkward reminder of a femininity I had tried to hide.

Defeated, I turned to go back home, but before I could take a step, a familiar voice called out to me. "Y/N! What are you doing out here in this mess?"

It was Soap, one of Ghost's closest friends, and like a lighthouse in the storm, his presence was oddly grounding. "Get over here!" He rushed up, shedding his jacket and draping it over my shoulders, his warmth enveloping me like a gentle embrace.

"Let's get you somewhere dry," he insisted, guiding me toward his place just a block away. I didn't resist. Somehow, the idea of being taken care of, even for just a moment, pulled at my fragmented heart.

Once inside, the sound of the rain pounding against the roof became a comforting backdrop. Soap handed me a towel and instructed me to shower while he prepared dinner. I was both grateful and surprised that someone was treating me with this kind of kindness. As I stood there, the hot water cascading down, I washed away the remnants of my weariness, my suffocating sadness.

After the shower, I dressed in an oversized t-shirt, the meal he had prepared still wafting through the air. We settled at the table, laughter gradually replacing the pain that had taken residence in my heart. That dinner felt like a breath of life, a fresh start. I shared the darker stories of Ghost—his cheating, the nights filled with anger and alcohol that bled into violence. With every word, I saw the fury grow in Soap's eyes.

"That bastard," he snarled, slamming his fist on the table. "I always knew he was trouble. You deserve so much better."

I tried to brush it off, a practiced indifference coating my words. "Maybe he's right about me. Maybe I am unattractive."

The moment hung heavy between us. Soap's eyes locked onto mine, searching, and then his voice softened, coiling around me like tendrils of warmth. "Y/N, you're beautiful. You're sexy. You deserve more than what he's given you."

Heat flooded my cheeks, a blush shimmering against my pale skin. My body betrayed me, heightened sensitivity responding to his words—my skin prickling, my nipples hardening beneath the fabric. A swirl of desire mixed with confusion flushed through me. I squeezed my thighs together, desperate for relief from this tempest of sensations.

His smirk, coy and knowing, ignited something inside me that had been dormant for too long. Without hesitation, he pulled me up, his hands large and warm against my sides. "Come on, let's go."

Before I realized what was happening, I was in his room, the air electric with tension. He placed me on the bed, looking down at me, his gaze intense. "How far are you willing to go with me?"

Doubt flickered in my heart, but the memory of Ghost—of all the selfishness—sharpened my resolve. After all the pain, I silently craved comfort. "I want to go all the way," I declared, the words tasting sweet on my tongue, tinged with rebellion.

Soap's eyes darkened with desire, a predatory glint that sent a shiver down my spine. He nodded slowly, understanding the depth of my decision, and an array of possibilities unfurled before us like an open sky.

The night had only just begun. And beneath those stormy clouds, in the sanctuary of his room, I found solace and a spark of life I hadn't felt in ages—an ember igniting, not just for the body that now grew within me, but for the woman I was beginning to reclaim again.