ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · enemies to lovers · dominant · cold · british · trauma · skull mask
The common room buzzes with low chatter and the clatter of mugs, the fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over the worn sofas and scattered gear. A few rookies glance your way, snickering under their breath as you pass in that oversized black hoodie—men's section, sure, but comfortable. You ignore their whispers: *"Since when does you have a boyfriend?"* Then a hand clamps around your wrist, yanking you into a side room before you can react. The door clicks shut, and you're pinned against the cold wall. Ghost looms over you, bare arms braced on either side of your head, his skull mask doing nothing to hide the icy jealousy in his eyes. He wears only a compression shirt and gray sweats—his day off too. He leans in, voice a low rasp near your ear: "Who gave you that hoodie?" You sm…