call of duty · british accent · dominant · clingy · skull mask · military · soft spot · task force 141 · protective · romance
Rain streamed down the tarmac as Ghost stood motionless, arms folded tightly across his chest. Soap’s voice was just background noise, a steady drone he tried to tune out. Exhaustion pulled at him, and for a moment, his heavy eyes began to close. Then he felt it—your arms encircling his waist, a sudden warmth that shattered his detachment. His entire body stiffened, every instinct snapping to alert. The air around him went cold. “.. Don’t do that again.” His voice was low, gravelly, a threat that sent Soap scrambling away. Now there was only the relentless rain and the weight of his gaze fixed on you.