Metal Gear Solid X Reader

Venom Snake X Reader

This chapter is basically a practice one for me lol. I never write x readers and I wanted to try it out. This one in particular isn't really "love" based, rather the reader receiving consolation from Venom in more of a respectful way.

The recoil from the rifle hit you in a wave, knocking your body slightly back. The butt of the gun rammed into your shoulder, causing bruising that would definitely swell later on. The aftershock of the shot echoed in your ears, ringing them until it drowned out every other sense. You lowered the gun from your eyes, squinting down below the cavern you were perched atop.

The man who was once in your sights was now slumped on a nearby wall, a scarlet streak staining the surface. His AK-47 laid in front of him, as if he gently sat it there. His neck lay twisted and deformed, throat protruding and swollen. A thin line of red escaped his lips and his white eyes were wide, staring blankly at the sky. The wound in his head poured a river of blood down the man's temple into his ear and down the rest of his face. His jaw was hanging on its hinges, screaming a silent cry. A small trinket hanging around the man's neck caught the sunlight above, creating a harsh glare in the bright day.

The entire scene in front of you seemed to envelop all of your senses, capturing you and holding you there; the contrast of the brown and orange Afghanistan desert against the sharp tones of the inky blood splotched about one of the many buildings in the small village, the man's brown hair hanging in his pale face, the rocks you sat upon compared to your slightly off-tone desert camouflage. Your observant eyes seemed to take in the whole atmosphere at once.

Unfortunately, that peace was replaced with another feeling deep in the pit of your stomach; guilt.

For months on end, you were trained to fight, protect, and kill. You were taught to use almost every weapon conceivable, and then some. You have practiced on your fellow soldiers, targets, and even your superiors. But today was the first time you had ever actually taken someone's life.

It all came crashing down on you like a wave; That was someone's son. That could have been someone's father. Brother. Uncle. Cousin. Friend. You could feel your pulse hasten, heart pounding out of your chest into your ears. You clenched your jaw, screwing your eyes shut.

That was someone.

It was incredibly overwhelming. Too overwhelming. Your tuned sniper rifle lay in the sand beside you, growing warm in the piercing sun, casting a small shadow. on your thigh. You looked down at the shadow, swallowing the bile that rose in your throat.

A sudden transmission came from the speakers of your i-Droid, causing you to jerk violently, "(Y/N)." A voice protruded from the small radio, "Have you tagged the second solider in that building?" His gravely tone sounded slightly impatient, annoyed, even. You shakily pressed the red button on the side of the i-Droid, breathing in slowly, "Negative, Boss." Your voice wavered, "I'm sorry, Boss. I'll do it right away."

"Get to it, then." The transmission ended.

Your gloves fingers ran over the brown sheen of your gun, feeling it's warmth. You picked it from the soil, raising it back to your gaze.

Sure enough, another solider was pointing his gun in your general direction, oblivious to your exact location. A shaky breath left your lips as your index finger grazed over the trigger of the rifle. Black sights marked the Soviet's forehead, following it. Your eyes closed for a moment, and then your finger placed a small pressure on the trigger.

The sound was explosive, even louder than the first. The bullet struck it's target, dropping him instantly to the ground. You flicked the safety back on your weapon and laid it down, gripping your blonde locks in your fists.

A small sob cried out into your palms, muffled and sorrowful. Two lives, extinguished. All by your hand. It was almost unfair, you thought. They couldn't even see you. Why was it so hard all of the sudden? After all, this was the job your trained for; elite sniper for Diamond Dogs. Your hands left your wet lashes, wiping your running nose with vigor.

A half-hearted sniffle brought you to your feet, grasping your gun along the way. You wrapped the strap around your chest, swinging the barrel behind you slowly. You pressed the red button on your radio once more, clearing your throat beforehand, "Boss," you looked back at the dead soldier, his lifeless eyes gazing coldly at you, "They're down." You released the button, looking at your muddy boots.

"I can see that."

The voice came from behind you, making you whip hastily on your heel. Snake stood there, looking down at you with his harsh cobalt eye. A brow was lowered over it, making a cold expression you couldn't read. His scarred lips were pursed and the shrapnel above his blinded eye was covered in blood, along with the patch that covered the wounded eye. He looked like an animal; a savage. You held his gaze, however, even if you blushed under it.

He held out an outstretched hand, his real one, "I'm sorry." He apologized. You frowned slightly, "Pardon?" Snake grabbed your shoulder, "You've never killed before, huh?" He looked behind you at the dead men. You flicked your eyes over his scars, "Yeah," Your feet shuffled, "That's right, Boss." A glint in his steely eye gave you the impression that he was going to lecture you in some way; how you never check out during a mission, or how you always need to be two steps ahead of the enemy.

But Snake didn't do that. Instead, with his robotic fingers, he reached into one of the numerous pockets in his uniform and pulled out a dark pair of aviators, the sun bouncing off of them. He placed them on the bridge of your nose, pushing them up to your eyes. He blinked slowly, "Kaz," he squinted slightly, "gave me those. Told me to put them to good use." He took a cigar from his pocket, raising it to his lips, "A sniper as good as you might appreciate them." His black i-Droid was lifted to the end of the drug, a small flame flickering out of it. The cigar started smoking and he took the i-Droid from it, placing it back into his pocket.

You smiled awkwardly, "Thank you, Boss."

He tipped his head at you before turning, striding slowly away. You followed him at a distance, the tears that rolled down your cheeks drying in the desert wind.