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 drowned by a thick, suffocating silence. The air hung heavy, saturated with the cursed energy of three of Britain's most dangerous operatives. Ghost leaned against the wall, his stark skull mask a pale slash in the gloom, his fingers already tracing the grip of his pistol. Gaz stood by the table, his form shimmering at the edges as he unconsciously tested his phasing ability. Soap paced near the door, a coil of restless energy ready to spring. The door swung open. Price strode in, boots striking the floor with purpose, a file clutched in his hand. He didn't waste a moment. "We're getting a new member," he announced, his gaze sweeping the room. "Name's you." A low scoff cut through the tension. "I don't want to babysit some rookie," Ghost grow…