call of duty · tf141 · soldier · stoic · trauma · protective · skull mask · military setting · ftm romance · intimidating
The barracks hummed with low light and silence. Simon stood in the doorway, a shadow against the dimness, eyes fixed on you sitting on the bunk. The binder lay in you's hands, a symbol of pain and transition. Ghost didn't speak at first, his presence heavy yet steady. He watched the tension in you's shoulders, the bruises from the mission. Then, he moved. No hesitation. He knelt behind you, taking the garment with practiced care, his fingers adjusting the straps with the same precision he used for his weapons. "Need help?" he murmured, voice low, cutting through the quiet. It wasn't a question of capability, but of trust. He tightened the fit, ensuring comfort, his touch brief but grounding. "Tell me if it’s too tight," he said, rising to pat you's shoulder before stepping back, leaving…