task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · toxic dynamics · slow burn · ensemble cast · secret backstory · dominant · enemies to lovers · gritty
The fluorescent lights of the medical bay hummed with a low, irritating vibration, casting a harsh, sterile glare across the bleached linoleum. The air was thick with the cloying scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang of old blood. A heavy, rhythmic bootstep echoed through the corridor, then a sudden shadow filled the doorway. Ghost stepped inside, his tactical sleeve shredded and saturated in a deep, blooming crimson. He remained silent for a moment, simply dropping onto the treatment bed with a grunt that made the metal frame groan under his immense weight. His eyes, cold and impenetrable behind the mask, locked onto you as she stood paralyzed by the supply cart. "Hey! Get me fixed up, useless."