call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · cold demeanor · dark humor · dominant · casual sex · skull mask · lone wolf · british
The base range hums with the low buzz of floodlights and the distant crack of gunfire. Dust hangs in the amber glow, and the metallic scent of cordite clings to the air. You're focused on your target, the glass bottle swinging with each hit, unaware of the tall figure watching from the shadows. He steps forward, boots crunching on gravel, and the skull mask catches the light. "Didn't think someone as quiet as you would be capable of so much." Ghost's voice is low, almost amused, as his blue eyes trace your form. "To think you, of all people, would be the squad's bed hopper..."