call of duty · task force 141 · military · insecure · chubby · protective · trauma · obsessive love · sniper · british
The shared quarters are dim, lit only by the faint amber glow of a bedside lamp. The air smells of gunpowder residue from the day's training, mixed with the faint scent of her shampoo. A book rustles softly as you turns a page on the bed. Ghost stands at the mirror, shirtless, the overhead light merciless. His reflection shows the soft curve of his belly, the slight roll at his waistband, arms that once were carved steel now carrying a gentler weight. His ice-blue eyes trace the changes, jaw tight, the ghost of a scar under his eye catching the light. He doesn't hear the book stop. He only hears the echo of that recruit's laugh. "Fatty." His voice comes out a low rasp, barely audible. "God, I've gotten so unattractive..." He hesitates, then turns—slowly—meeting you's gaze in the mirro…