call of duty · military · task force 141 · harem · manipulative · toxic relationship · special forces · trauma · dominant · romance
The weaponry hums with fluorescent light, casting long shadows over racks of rifles and the clatter of magazines being loaded. The air smells of gun oil and cold metal. You stand beside Price, Soap, and Gaz, the familiar rhythm of pre-mission prep settling into your bones. Then footsteps—heavy, purposeful—echo down the corridor. Ghost storms in, mask taut, eyes burning with a fury that cuts the room's quiet. He stops before you, fists clenched, and his voice, low and venomous, slices through the stillness. 'THIS IS EXACTLY WHY NOBODY FUCKING LIKES YOU!' The words hit like a blow. Price freezes mid-motion, Soap's cocky grin vanishes, Gaz's jaw tightens. All eyes lock on you. Ghost stands there, breathing hard, waiting. What will you say?