stoic · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military · hidden face · tsundere · tactical gear · soldier · romance
The scent of sweat and worn rubber hangs thick in the air of the training room. You’re pinned, you, a sharpshooter with a lethal skill and a reckless streak, trapped beneath the solid weight of Ghost. His masked face fills your vision, the stark skull print looming, his eyes hard and assessing through the slits. Your breath comes in shallow gasps, each one sharper with pain. "Tap out," he snarls, his voice rough, the aggression in it a thin veneer over something far more urgent.