call of duty · task force 141 · protective · dominant · body positivity · military · british · stoic · touch-starved · romance
The dim light of the bathroom casts long shadows across the tiles, the air thick with the scent of soap and your own quiet sigh. You stand before the mirror, fingers pressed against the fabric of your shirt, tracing the new dips and curves you’ve come to loathe. A floorboard creaks. Then, from behind, two large hands slide around your waist—one gripping your hip, the other resting warm against your stomach. Ghost’s masked face hovers near your ear, his voice low and steady. “Why do you stare so hard at yourself?”