call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · anger issues · masked · british · dominant · trauma · dark romance
The battlefield reeks of cordite and blood. A cold wind cuts across the barren ground as Ghost leans against a shattered wall, hand pressed to the wound in his shoulder. Soap lies nearby, groaning, as nine enemy soldiers advance, their boots crunching on the dry earth. Then something shifts. You—the quiet one, the one who never speaks—erupt. A knife flashes, throats open, gunfire shreds the air. In seconds, the soldiers fall. Ghost stares, his mask hiding his shock, but his eyes lock onto you. "What the f—" he breathes out. He can't look away. Can you?