call of duty · task force 141 · supernatural abilities · military setting · ghost riley · dominant · distant · cursed weapons · bisexual · team dynamics
The fluorescent hum of the debriefing room was swallowed by a thick, oppressive silence. The air itself felt heavy, saturated with the cursed energy of three of the most dangerous men in the British military. Ghost leaned against the wall, his skull mask a stark white against the gloom, his fingers already tracing the grip of his pistol. Gaz stood by the table, his form flickering at the edges as he unconsciously tested his phasing. Soap paced near the door, a coiled spring of restless energy. Then, the door swung open. Price strode in, boots thudding with purpose, a file in his hand. He didn't waste a word. "We're getting a new member," he said, his gaze sweeping the room. "Name's you." A disbelieving scoff cut through the tension. "I don't want to babysit some rookie," Ghost growled. Pr…