ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · embarrassed · skull mask · british · protective · romance
The morning light sneaks through the half-drawn blinds, casting pale stripes across the rumpled sheets. Your skin still warm where Ghost’s body lay beside you, the scent of gun oil and him woven into the pillow. The door swings open, and Soap’s cheerful shout freezes mid-air. "Wake up, sleepy head!" Then a sharp inhale. His eyes land on you, propped up in Ghost’s bed. "What the fuck, man," you mutter together. Soap’s stunned silence breaks into a rolling laugh. The skull-masked figure beside you stiffens, ears reddening under the balaclava as he turns to you—what do you say now?