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MidReal Story
Unspoken Ranks: A Military Love Story
Anonymous
Sep 3
Scenario:a gay love story about a shy private and a tough drill sergeant falling in love
Create my version of this story
Ethan Carter
shy private,in love with Drill Sergeant Thompson,slender with soft features,introverted and compassionate.
Mark Thompson
tough drill sergeant,in love with Ethan Carter,muscular build with a stern face,authoritative and protective.
Sarah Jennings
fellow soldier and friend to both Ethan and Mark,athletic build with short hair,supportive and witty.
This is not the story of a man and a woman, or a man and his buddy.
It's not a story about war, although there's a war going on in the background.
It's a story of love between two men who shouldn't have fallen in love.
I'm Private Ethan Carter, and I'm in the Army.
Being in the Army wasn't my first choice, but after 9/11, I felt it was my duty to serve my country.
I come from a military family going back to the Revolutionary War, so maybe it's in my blood.
Maybe it's just that I felt I needed to do something for my country after seeing the towers fall on live TV.
Either way, here I am, serving at Fort Campbell, Kentucky.
Fort Campbell is home to the 101st Airborne Division, and right now I'm in basic training.
I'm small for a soldier at 5'8" and 140 pounds.
I stepped off the bus and felt the weight of my duffel bag pulling at my shoulder.
The other recruits around me seemed to tower like giants, their broad shoulders and confident strides making me feel even smaller.
I took a deep breath and tried to steady my nerves.
This was it—basic training at Fort Campbell.
"Move it, Carter!" a voice barked from behind me.
I turned to see Drill Sergeant Mark Thompson glaring at me, his eyes like steel.
"Yes, Drill Sergeant!" I stammered, quickening my pace.
Thompson was a force of nature.
Tall and muscular, he commanded respect with every step he took.
His presence was magnetic, drawing the eyes of every recruit in the vicinity.
I couldn't help but feel a strange pull towards him, a mix of fear and something else I couldn't quite name.
We were lined up for our first physical training session.
The sun was barely up, and already I could feel the sweat starting to form on my brow.
"Alright, maggots," Thompson shouted, pacing in front of us. "Today we're going to see what you're made of."
He stopped in front of me, his gaze piercing through me like a knife.
"Think you can keep up, Carter?" he asked, his voice low and challenging.
"I'll try my best, Drill Sergeant," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
"Trying isn't good enough," he snapped. "You either do it or you don't."
The next hour was a blur of push-ups, sit-ups, and running until my legs felt like they were made of lead.
Every time I thought I couldn't go on, I'd catch sight of Thompson watching me, his eyes never leaving my form.
It was as if he was testing me personally, pushing me to my limits just to see if I'd break.
By the time we were done, I could barely stand.
My muscles screamed in protest as I struggled to catch my breath.
Thompson walked over to me, his expression unreadable.
"Not bad for your first day," he said gruffly. "But you've got a long way to go."
"Thank you, Drill Sergeant," I managed to say between gasps for air.
As the days went by, the routine became both familiar and exhausting.
Wake up before dawn, physical training, drills, more physical training—it was relentless.
And always there was Thompson, watching me with those intense eyes.
One evening after a particularly grueling day, I found myself alone in the barracks.
The other recruits had gone to the mess hall, but I needed a moment to myself.
I sat on my bunk and rubbed my sore muscles, lost in thought.
The door creaked open and I looked up to see Thompson standing there.
"Carter," he said quietly.
"Drill Sergeant," I replied, standing up quickly.
"At ease," he said with a wave of his hand.
I relaxed slightly but remained on edge.
He stepped closer until he was standing right in front of me.
"You've been doing better," he said softly.
"Thank you," I replied hesitantly.
He reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still.
His touch was firm but gentle—a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.
"You've got potential," he said quietly.
"But you've got to believe in yourself."
Before I could respond, he turned and walked out of the barracks.
I stood there for a long moment, trying to process what had just happened.
There was something about Thompson that intrigued me—something beyond his tough exterior.
The next morning during our run, I found myself pushing harder than ever before.
Every time I felt like giving up, I'd remember his words: "You've got potential."
It became a mantra that kept me going through the toughest moments.
As we rounded the final bend of our run that day, Thompson called out for us to stop.
We gathered around him as he looked us over with that same intense gaze.
"Tomorrow's another day," he said simply.
Just as we were about to disperse, an alarm blared through the camp.
Thompson's expression changed instantly from calm authority to urgent command.
"Everyone back to the barracks now!" he shouted.
We sprinted back as fast as we could while sirens wailed in the background.
The barracks were a whirlwind of activity as we rushed in, the tension palpable in the air.
Everyone was on edge, whispering among themselves, trying to figure out what was happening.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I looked around, searching for any clues.
Thompson stormed into the room, his face set in a grim expression.
"Listen up!" he barked, and the room fell silent instantly.
"We've just received word that there's been a breach on the base. All personnel are to remain on high alert."
A mix of fear and excitement rippled through the room.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as Thompson's eyes met mine, his expression unreadable.
What did this mean for us? Were we in danger?
Sarah, one of the other recruits, approached me quietly.
"Ethan," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "We're going to be okay. Just stick together."
I nodded, trying to muster up some semblance of courage.
But deep down, I couldn't shake off the feeling that our lives were about to change forever.
Thompson continued issuing orders, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Grab your gear and be ready to move out at a moment's notice. We don't know what's coming, but we need to be prepared."
We scrambled to gather our equipment, the sound of zippers and clinking metal filling the room.
My hands shook as I fastened my helmet and checked my rifle.
"Stay close," Sarah said again, her eyes wide with fear but her voice steady.
I nodded again, grateful for her presence.
We had trained for situations like this, but it was different now that it was real.
Thompson's voice rang out once more.
"Form up outside! Move it!"
We filed out of the barracks in a hurried but orderly fashion, falling into formation under the dim glow of the base lights.
The night air was cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat of my anxiety.
Thompson paced in front of us, his eyes scanning each face with that same intense scrutiny.
"We don't know what we're dealing with yet," he said firmly. "But remember your training and stay focused."
A murmur of agreement passed through the group.
Suddenly, a loud explosion echoed from somewhere on the base, followed by a plume of smoke rising into the night sky.
Everyone tensed up immediately.
"Stay sharp!" Thompson shouted over the noise. "This is not a drill!"
We moved as one unit towards the source of the explosion, adrenaline pumping through our veins.
Every shadow seemed to hold a potential threat; every sound made us jump.
As we approached a cluster of buildings near the perimeter fence, Thompson signaled for us to stop.
He motioned for silence and crept forward cautiously.
The rest of us waited in tense anticipation.
I could hear my own breathing loud in my ears.
Sarah stood beside me; her hand brushed against mine briefly—a small gesture of solidarity.
Thompson returned quickly.
"Looks like an attack," he said tersely.
"They've breached the fence line."
My stomach churned at his words.
This was no longer just training—this was real combat.
"Stay low and follow me," Thompson ordered.
We moved forward again with heightened caution.
As we rounded a corner near one of the buildings, gunfire erupted from ahead.
Bullets whizzed past us as we dove for cover behind some crates stacked nearby.
"Return fire!" Thompson commanded urgently.
We aimed our rifles towards where we thought the shots were coming from and fired back blindly into darkness.
The night was filled with chaos—shouts mingled with gunfire—and all I could think about was surviving this moment.
Everything else faded away except for one thought: stay alive.
Thompson's voice cut through again: "Push forward! We need to secure that area!"
With renewed determination fueled by fear and adrenaline combined,
I crawled forward, my heart racing, feeling the rough ground beneath my palms and knees.
The flashes of gunfire illuminated Thompson's stern face, casting harsh shadows that made him look even more formidable.
"Keep moving!" he yelled, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of battle.
Sarah was right behind me, her rifle at the ready, covering our advance towards the breach.
The air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of gunpowder.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness ahead.
Before I could react, Thompson raised his weapon and fired.
The figure crumpled to the ground, a lifeless heap in the dim light.
In that brief moment of silence, our eyes met.
I felt a surge of gratitude and something deeper—love for the man who had just saved my life.
"Thanks," I mouthed silently, knowing he understood.
Thompson nodded curtly and motioned for us to keep moving.
We pressed on, inching closer to the breach in the fence line.
The sounds of combat were all around us—shouts, explosions, the staccato rhythm of automatic weapons fire.
I could feel every beat of my heart pounding in my chest like a drum.
"Stay close!" Sarah whispered urgently as we moved forward.
Her presence was a steadying force amidst the chaos.
We reached a low wall near the perimeter fence and took cover behind it.
Thompson scanned the area quickly before signaling us to advance again.
We moved in short bursts, using whatever cover we could find.
Another burst of gunfire erupted from our left.
I ducked instinctively as bullets ricocheted off the wall behind me.
"Over there!" Thompson shouted, pointing towards a shadowy figure moving along the fence line.
Sarah and I aimed our rifles and fired in unison.
The figure dropped instantly, disappearing into the darkness.
"Good shot," Thompson said tersely. "Let's keep moving."
We continued our advance, every step bringing us closer to securing the breach.
The tension was palpable; every nerve in my body was on high alert.
As we approached the fence line, Thompson signaled for us to stop again.
He peered through a gap in the fence, his expression grim.
"We've got more incoming," he said quietly. "Get ready."
I tightened my grip on my rifle and took a deep breath.
This was it—the moment we had trained for but hoped would never come.
The first enemy soldier appeared through the breach, followed by several others.
Thompson opened fire immediately, taking down two of them before they could react.
"Cover me!" he shouted as he moved forward to secure the breach.
Sarah and I provided covering fire, our rifles spitting out rounds as fast as we could pull the triggers.
The enemy soldiers returned fire, forcing us to take cover behind whatever we could find.
Thompson reached the breach and began reinforcing it with whatever materials were available—sandbags, debris, anything that could provide some semblance of protection.
"Hurry up!" I yelled over the noise. "They're coming!"
"I know!" Thompson snapped back. "Just keep them off me!"
We continued firing at the advancing enemy soldiers, trying to buy Thompson enough time to secure the breach.
It felt like an eternity, but finally he finished and signaled for us to fall back to a more defensible position.
"Move! Now!" he ordered.
We scrambled back towards a nearby building, taking cover behind its sturdy walls.
The enemy fire intensified as they realized their path was blocked.
"We need reinforcements," Sarah said urgently. "We can't hold this position alone."
"I know," Thompson replied grimly. "But until they get here, we're all we've got."
I looked at him then—really looked at him—and saw not just a commanding officer but a man willing to risk everything for those under his command.
In that moment, I knew I would follow him anywhere.
An explosion rocked the ground nearby, sending debris flying through the air.
"Incoming!" someone shouted from behind us.
The ground shook beneath us as the explosion sent a shower of dirt and debris into the air.
"Stay down!" Thompson yelled, his voice barely cutting through the chaos.
I pressed myself against the wall, feeling the rough texture of the bricks against my back.
Sarah was beside me, her eyes wide with fear but her grip on her rifle steady.
Thompson crouched low and pulled out his radio.
"Base command, this is Alpha Team," he barked into the device. "We are under heavy fire at the perimeter fence. Requesting immediate backup. Over."
Static crackled in response, followed by a garbled voice.
"Alpha Team, hold your position. Reinforcements en route. ETA ten minutes. Over."
"Roger that," Thompson replied, shoving the radio back into his vest.
"Ten minutes," he muttered to himself. "We just need to hold out for ten more minutes."
I glanced over at Sarah, who nodded resolutely.
"We can do this," she said, more to herself than anyone else.
The enemy fire intensified, bullets pinging off the walls around us.
Thompson peeked around the corner and fired a few shots before ducking back.
"Ethan, Sarah—cover me while I try to get a better position," he ordered.
"Got it," I replied, raising my rifle and taking aim at the shadows moving in the distance.
Sarah did the same, and we both opened fire, providing Thompson with the cover he needed to move forward.
He dashed across the open space, diving behind a stack of crates just as another burst of gunfire erupted from the enemy's position.
"Keep them pinned down!" Thompson shouted from his new vantage point.
I squeezed the trigger repeatedly, feeling the recoil of my rifle against my shoulder.
Each shot was a desperate attempt to keep the enemy at bay.
Sarah's rifle barked beside me, her shots precise and controlled.
Suddenly, a bright light cut through the darkness—a helicopter's spotlight sweeping over our position.
The sound of rotor blades filled the air, growing louder with each passing second.
"Reinforcements!" Sarah exclaimed, relief evident in her voice.
The helicopter hovered above us, its powerful spotlight illuminating the battlefield.
A voice boomed through a loudspeaker: "This is Bravo Team. Hold your positions. We're coming in hot."
Thompson's face lit up with a rare smile as he looked back at us.
"Alright, you heard them! Hold your positions and keep firing!"
The helicopter's machine gun roared to life, raining down bullets on the enemy forces below.
The tide of battle shifted instantly as our reinforcements joined the fray.
Enemy soldiers scrambled for cover, their advance halted by the overwhelming firepower from above.
I felt a surge of hope and adrenaline as I continued to fire at any remaining targets.
The night was filled with the deafening sounds of gunfire and explosions, but now it was our side that had the upper hand.
Thompson moved back towards us, his expression one of grim determination.
"Let's push forward and secure that breach once and for all," he commanded.
With renewed vigor, we advanced together—Ethan Carter, Sarah, and Drill Sergeant Mark Thompson—driven by a shared resolve to protect our base and each other.
As we moved towards the breach in the fence line, I could see enemy soldiers retreating under the relentless assault from our helicopter support.
Victory was within our grasp.
But just as we reached the breach, an enemy soldier emerged from behind a pile of rubble, his weapon raised.
Before I could react, Thompson lunged forward and tackled him to the ground.
They struggled fiercely on the ground as Sarah and I rushed to help.
Thompson managed to wrestle the weapon away from his opponent just as we reached them.
"Get him!" Thompson shouted as he pinned the soldier down.
I swung my rifle butt down hard on the enemy soldier's head, knocking him out cold.
Breathing heavily, Thompson looked up at us with gratitude in his eyes.
"Good work," he said simply.
Before we could catch our breath or celebrate our small victory, another explosion rocked the ground nearby.
The explosion sent a shockwave through the air, revealing a hidden tunnel entrance beneath the rubble.
Dust and debris filled the air, making it hard to see.
"What's that?" Sarah shouted over the noise, pointing towards the newly exposed tunnel.
Before anyone could answer, enemy soldiers began pouring out of the tunnel entrance, their weapons at the ready.
"Incoming!" Thompson yelled, raising his rifle and opening fire.
"Take cover and return fire!"
I dove behind a nearby stack of crates, my heart pounding in my chest.
Sarah was right beside me, her eyes wide with fear but her grip on her rifle steady.
Bullets whizzed past us, pinging off the metal crates and sending sparks flying.
"We need to hold them back until reinforcements arrive!" Thompson shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of gunfire.
"Focus your fire on the tunnel entrance!"
I nodded and took aim at the dark opening, squeezing the trigger and feeling the recoil of my rifle against my shoulder.
Enemy soldiers fell one by one, but more kept coming, their numbers seemingly endless.
"There's too many of them!" Sarah yelled, her voice tinged with panic.
"We can't hold this position much longer!"
Thompson gritted his teeth and fired another burst from his rifle.
"We don't have a choice! Keep firing!"
The helicopter above us continued to rain down bullets on the enemy forces, but it wasn't enough to stem the tide of soldiers emerging from the tunnel.
The situation was growing more desperate by the second.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my leg as a bullet grazed me.
I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore it, focusing on taking down as many enemy soldiers as I could.
Sarah glanced at me with concern but didn't say anything, knowing we couldn't afford any distractions.
"We need to find a way to close that tunnel entrance!" Thompson shouted, his voice strained with urgency.
"Anyone got any grenades left?"
"I've got one!" Sarah replied, pulling a grenade from her vest.
She looked at me with determination in her eyes. "Cover me!"
I nodded and fired at the enemy soldiers, trying to keep them pinned down while Sarah prepared to throw the grenade.
She pulled the pin and lobbed it towards the tunnel entrance with all her strength.
The grenade exploded with a deafening roar, sending chunks of concrete and dirt flying through the air.
For a moment, there was silence as the dust settled.
Then, slowly but surely, enemy soldiers began emerging from the tunnel again.
The explosion had only temporarily slowed them down.
"Damn it!" Thompson cursed. "We need something bigger to collapse that tunnel for good!"
Before anyone could respond, another explosion rocked the ground nearby—this time from an artillery shell fired by our reinforcements.
The shell hit its mark perfectly, collapsing the tunnel entrance in a cloud of dust and debris.
A cheer went up from our side as we realized we had finally stopped the flow of enemy soldiers.
But there was no time to celebrate.
"Push forward!" Thompson ordered. "We need to secure this area before they regroup!"
With renewed determination fueled by adrenaline and relief, we advanced together—Ethan Carter, Sarah, and Drill Sergeant Mark Thompson—driven by a shared resolve to protect our base and each other.
As we moved towards what remained of the breach in the fence line, I could see enemy soldiers retreating under our relentless assault.
Victory was within our grasp.