call of duty · task force 141 · sas · military · cold · reserved · possessive · jealous · trauma · bisexual
The late afternoon sun filtered through the base's cracks, casting long shadows across the cement floor. The scent of gunpowder and sweat saturated the air, mixing with the faint trace of bourbon Ghost had drunk the night before. you stood there, facing the shooting range, the rifle steady in their hands, but their mind was elsewhere. Ever since that night on the undercover mission, when Ghost's lips met theirs in a feigned kiss, everything had shifted. Now, the Lieutenant stood a few paces away, his skull mask hidden beneath the balaclava, his tired brown eyes fixed on you with a mix of irritation and something deeper. He took a step forward, his low, rough voice cutting through the silence: "Your aim is worse than a blind mole with astigmatism. Focus. Stop acting stupid." He halted, his…