Betrayal | Ghost x Reader

Helicopter

Word Count: 1.6k

There are three perfect words to describe my situation: I am fucked. There's really no other way to put it, I'm undoubtably fucked. As I stepped onto the chopper, I could still feel Ghost's stare drilling holes into the back of my head. He knows. He knows something is up. How he could tell when he'd just now seen me when Soap could barely tell something was bothering me and he'd been around me all day? I couldn't tell you. There's just something about Ghost. Something that makes him so different. Too bad I don't care enough to find out.

My eyes darted around the chopper as I stepped inside, Soap was in the cockpit chatting up the pilots, joking and laughing about with them who looked less than unamused. Offering annoyed smiles and constant head nods back to him, they were probably praying their clear displeasure would be enough for Soap to leave them the hell alone. A small smile formed on my lips just watching the interaction before taking a seat, strapping in my seatbelt and clicking in into place. Taking a deep breath, I rested my head on the cold wall behind me, closing my eyes. 

Soap's incessant chatter was quickly drowned out by the high-pitched whine of the engines building into a crescendo, echoing through the nightly air. A series of lights and displays came to life, casting an eerie glow throughout the entire length of the chopper. The rotors attached to the top of the helicopter began to spin, cutting through the crisp atmosphere. As the sound intensified and Soap could no longer talk, he found his way to an empty seat and clicked himself into it.

My eyes followed Ghost's form as he entered, his well built frame looking even bigger in the small space of the aircraft. His piercing gaze into me never let up for even a second, I took notice of the way his hand remained close to the pistol attached to his thigh holster, almost praying for the moment I'd fuck up so he can shoot a bullet between my eyes and call it a day. Gulping slightly, my eye line fell to the floor. I prayed he wouldn't sit near me, actually as far away from me as humanly possible would be nice. But nope, he decided to plop his big bulky ass in the seat directly in front of me. 

My slight groaning was hidden beneath the loud roar of the rotors, the sound almost deafening. The pilots in the cockpit relayed information through their headphones, making final checks and flipping switches. Grabbing my own earpiece, I placed it in my ear and slumped back in my seat, avoiding eye contact with Ghost at all possible costs. My hands nervously fidgeted with one another, my feet kicking back and forth. I hated helicopters.

"Can you stop fuckin' moving," Ghost growled through the earpiece, my eyes narrowed down at him, my glare meeting his own. He sat with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, muscles bulging as annoyance danced in his stare. Rolling my eyes, I flashed him my middle finger before continuing to do what I was doing, more dramatically now just to piss him off. Ghost grumbled lord knows what to himself, shooting me never ending deadly looks. 

Eventually the chopper lifted off the ground, beginning our long ass journey to Las Almas. My eyes flicked over to Soap who was already fucking asleep, who knows how. I would try getting some shut eye as well, but having Ghost this close to me would make that damn near impossible. I trust him as far as I can throw him, which isn't that far considering how fucking huge he is. I'm sure he feels the same way. His annoyance only seemed to grow as I swung my feet back and forth, my eyes boring into him with a "Fuck you" look etched on my features.

Satisfied with the anger I was evoking from him, a smirk formed on my lips which only seemed to infuriate him more. When I'm in his presence somehow I always forget how psychotic he truly is, as if he doesn't want to see my head on a platter, or hadn't smacked the daylights out of me, which I have not forgotten believe it or not. Still, annoying him was my favorite game, no matter the consequences. Amusement found its way to my features as I swung my legs even higher and then launched  them backwards again rapidly. I looked like a complete buffoon, but I didn't care. 

Shaking my head back and forth and fidgeting with my hands, I hummed to myself. That's what he gets for trying to sit in front of me and intimidate me. Before I could register it, Ghost had ripped off his seatbelt and lunged across the small walkway of the chopper, his large hands gripping tightly around my small thighs, holding them in place. "I said stop bloody moving," Ghost growled under his breath, his fiery blue eyes glaring at me through the slits of his mask. My breath caught in my throat as I locked eyes with him. The aroma of his cologne and the scent of tobacco that surrounded him almost had me on my hands and knees.

Wait, what? No. No, I don't fucking like him. Scoffing slightly, I grabbed his hands with my own and attempted to shove them off of me, which only caused him to tighten his grip, my teeth gritted together in pure frustration. "Stop touching me," I hissed angrily at him, his annoyance dissipating and mine growing. Amusement seemed to reside in him now, "I will, if you stop fuckin' moving," he grumbled over the earpiece. Rolling my eyes and scoffing I muttered curses under my breath before mumbling, "Fine." My eyes narrowed even more when he didn't loosen his grip. "No. It's Yes, Lieutenant," he bit back.

Anger began to bubble in my veins, he was so fucking annoying, "Fuck you," I barked into the earpiece loudly, shoving Ghost's chest with all my might. He didn't budge even a bit, he waited a few seconds to let the fact he was stronger than me sink in before he returned back to his seat, buckling himself in once again and chuckling darkly. Crossing my arms tightly over my chest I flicked him off one more time for good measure. "Watch yourself," he growled. With a sarcastic smile I ripped out my earpiece, happy that I could finally have peace and silence without having to hear his agitating ass British accent. Mumbling curses to myself, I stared off into the distance, trying my damn near best to remain awake.

Ghost POV

It wasn't that fucking hard to see how much she fought falling asleep, her eyes blinking slowly, the bags under them growing darker every passing moment. Her head would bob down from time to time before she'd catch herself and force her lids back open, lazily looking around to see if either me or Soap had caught her drifting off. She thought I couldn't notice, but I did. Eventually she just gave into it, and was currently sleeping in the most uncomfortable fucking position I could possibly imagine: head draped over her shoulder and bent weirdly, something that I knew for certain she'd end up bitching about when she woke up.

I notice many things, too many fucking things. The way her full lips slightly part as she softly snores, her dark hair cascading loosely over her features, the steady rise and fall of her damned chest. The way her eyes fucking widened when Gaz told her not to try anything, how she had cleaned up her room even though I'm sure she lived like a slob, her nightmares that I'm almost positive she tells nobody about. I can see it in her tired eyes. She reminds me of me which is probably why I fucking despise her so much.     

God I need to get a grip, she's a problem, she's polluting my fucking mind. No one can get a reaction out of me as much as she can, even when she's minding her own damn business. Bloody hell. There's something brewing below her surface, something she's hiding from us, the people who spared her life. If it was up to me I would've popped two caps in her skull after the interrogation. She's a disease, a parasite infecting my brain. Grumbling softly, I rip my stare away from her sleeping body.

After a few moments, I return my gaze back to her, she's like a magnetic field, pulling me into her orbit against my will. If I get too close I know there'd be no escaping it, I'd be hooked even if it's the last thing I ever wanted to be. Which it is. I don't know what she's hiding, or what she has fucking planned, but I'd be damned if anything were to slip past me on my own fucking watch. I couldn't give a single flying fuck if she was a Lieutenant in Al-Qatala, she's a fucking terrorist in my squad. 

She's gonna be my fucking problem. No way in hell is she gonna get anything past me as long as I have something to fucking say about it.

Fuck, what is she doing to me?

A/N: this chapter was gonna be way too long so i'll split it up into two. anyway, i don't really like doing ghost pov's bc i don't know if i'm getting his character right,  but i wanted y'all to know what he was thinking about her. next chapter is posted as well! love u guys.