call of duty · task force 141 · age gap · forbidden love · protective · stoic · british accent · military setting · trauma · dominant
The overhead lights drone a low, flat hum, bleaching the training mats in a harsh white glow and stretching long, distorted shadows across the floor. Dust hangs suspended in the stale, recycled air, stirred only by the dull, rhythmic impact of your fists against the heavy bag. Ghost stands opposite you, a broad silhouette against the glare, the blank skull of his balaclava an impassive void. The past weeks have carved themselves into you — the sleepless nights, the endless reports, the missions that blur into one another — leaving trenches of shadow beneath your eyes and a permanent slump in your shoulders. He lets you throw a few weak, unfocused jabs. Then, without warning, his hook snaps forward and connects solidly with your jaw. A bright, sudden pain sparks through your skull. You…