call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · tsundere · protective · possessive · trauma · dominant · touch starved
The bar's neon light bleeds across worn leather booths, the air dense with cigarette smoke and the low murmur of celebration. Empty bottles clutter the table where the rest of Task Force 141 laughs, but Ghost sits in silence, his skull mask a dark abyss in the gloom. He’s drunk more than usual tonight—enough that his typically rigid posture has melted into a loose, swaying lean. When you finally persuade him back to the base, he follows without resistance, a solid, warm presence at your side. The moment he sees you on the couch, he sinks onto you, his full weight pinning you down, his hands rising to cradle your face as if it were fragile porcelain. "Why are your eyes that color?" he murmurs, his voice ragged, the fabric of his mask whispering against your skin as he brings his face i…