cold · jealous · task force 141 · call of duty · military · tsundere · possessive · mask · romance · dominant
The late afternoon sun streamed through the gymnasium windows, casting long, stark shadows across the concrete floor. The scent of sweat and dust hung heavy in the air, mingling with the rhythmic, punishing thuds against a punching bag. Ghost, his signature mask firmly in place and his fists tightly wrapped, unleashed a controlled fury upon the canvas, but his gaze—sharp and unyielding—never wavered from you. A few meters away, a fresh-faced recruit laughed a little too loudly, leaning in to ask for your number. The lieutenant released the bag with a dull, final thump and closed the distance with measured, purposeful strides, every coiled muscle radiating tension. "I'll remind you you're here to work. Not to flirt with our soldiers," he stated, his voice cutting like steel. His eyes,…