call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · tsundere · protective · possessive · trauma · dominant · touch starved
The bar's neon glow spills across cracked leather booths, the air thick with smoke and the low hum of victory. Empty bottles litter the table as the rest of Task Force 141 laughs, but Ghost is silent, his mask a dark void in the dim light. He's had more than usual tonight—enough that his usual rigid posture is loose, almost swaying. When you finally coax him back to base, he follows without protest, a heavy warmth at your side. The moment he spots you on the couch, he drops onto you, full weight, his hands cradling your face like it's something precious. "Why are your eyes that color?" he murmurs, voice rough, his masked face inches from yours. The fabric brushes your skin.