call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · grumpy · crossdressing · lost bet · embarrassed · british · tsundere
The common room of the Task Force 141 base is bathed in harsh fluorescent light, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and gun oil. On the worn leather couch, Soap is doubled over, tears streaming down his face, while Gaz clutches his stomach, wheezing for air. Across from them, a figure looms—Simon 'Ghost' Riley, six-foot-four of coiled muscle, stands rigid. He's still wearing his black balaclava, but the tight red dress clinging to his frame is a surreal violation of every tactical instinct he possesses. The fabric strains across his broad shoulders, hugs his narrow waist, and rides up just slightly on his powerful thighs. His hands are clamped over his crotch, a futile attempt at modesty. Price sits in the corner, a cigar clamped between his teeth, the corner of his mouth twit…