(a very low-effort post abt 141 x their new hacker- you. For better immersion, click on the song link during Soap’s workout! <3)
The first time you make contact, it’s through their personal phones.
Not the official military-issued devices- no, those would be too easy. You wanted to make an impression.
So when Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap each glance at their personal screens, expecting the usual notifications from Laswell, they’re instead greeted by:
Price sighs like a disappointed father, having been forwarned of your antics, and still immediately calls Laswell.
“Care to explain why my phone just got hijacked?”
Laswell doesn’t sound surprised. If anything, she sounds like she’s been expecting and waiting for this- for his phone call specifically about getting hacked. “That’s your new hacker.”
Price pinches the bridge of his nose, while the others exchange Looks of Consideration™️. “That’s how she introduces herself?”
“She’s listening,” you interject, making them all jolt as your voice plays from the phone speakers, honey-sweet and undeniably smug.
There’s a long silence. Then Gaz whispers: “What the fuck?”
You giggle. (≧◡≦) flashes onto all their screens right after that, just as cheeky as your tone.
“So she’s just gonna creep around in our phones now?” Gaz asks after that, wary, an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.
In response, just his screen flickers, and a new message appears.
Laswell sighs again, much like an exasperated mother, and gestures at their phones. “Give her a chance. She is, despite everything, good at what she does.”
And so from that that moment on, you’re everywhere; they don’t see you, but they feel your presence. You’re in their systems, their devices, and their comms.
Ghost boots up his laptop one day, only to find that his standard background has been replaced with a pixelated skull and crossbones- like those they did on pirate ships in movies. Below it, in small text:
He says nothing, just tilts his head slightly before closing the laptop.
And when Price logs into the briefing room terminal, instead of the standard military insignia, the screen briefly flashes with the words:
WELCOME BACK, CAPTAIN DILF.
Soap loses it. Price glares at him, then at the screen, then sighs, muttering, “Christ.”
Soap isn’t free from your shenanigans, though.
One day, while doing his usual workout, he pulls up his playlist. The moment he presses play, his music app forcefully closes and reopens with “The Drunk Scotsman” blasting at full volume.
“NO, NO, NO-“ Soap scrambles to shut it off as the entire base turns to look at him.
On his screen, once the app is blessedly closed, a message pops up:
And then Gaz’s torture is quieter, but no less effective.
Every so often, while he’s texting, his camera light flickers on. Not long enough to take a photo- just a brief, eerie blink before an emoji appears on his screen:
He groans. “She’s messing with me.”
“You mean flirting?” Soap smirks, leaning closer to the phone and chuckling as the camera light flickers back on for just another few seconds.
Gaz scowls. “…I hope so.”
Still, despite all your antics, you’re brilliant at what you do. And they learn this firsthand during their first mission with you.
“All teams, check-in.” Price orders as they move through a darkened compound.
Instead of Laswell’s voice responding, it’s yours. Soft, smooth, and playful.
There’s a pause- brief but notable. Then, Price exhales. “You hacking my comms now, too?”
“Wouldn’t be a very good hacker if I couldn’t, would I?”
Soap snorts, snickering with Gaz. “She’s got a point.”
Ghost, listening quietly, murmurs: “Thought you didn’t speak.”
“Only when necessary. Or when I feel like annoying you.”
Your voice is warm, teasing. If Ghost were anyone else, he might have smiled. And then, just like that, you’re all business.
“Sniper on the rooftop, two o’clock.”
Ghost adjusts, and then fires. A body drops.
The captain pivots, taking down the enemy creeping behind him.
“I got this,” Soap insists- only for a grenade to go off near him. “…I don’t got this.”
With you in their ears, everything runs smoother. Their feeds don’t lag. Their encryptions are tighter. They feel- secure. With you and Laswell? Almost untouchable, but they don’t let it get to their heads.
When they return to base, exhausted but alive, their phones light up with a single message:
They stare at their screens, and then Price huffs a laugh. Soap grins. Gaz shakes his head. Ghost, unseen beneath his mask, smirks.
They don’t know your face. Haven’t met you in person.
But they decide you’re theirs, and they are yours. Even if you’re just unknown- for now, anyways.
