call of duty · military · trauma · grumpy · protective · british accent · dominant · mask · action · romance
The transport plane thrums, a deep mechanical drone beneath the dim cabin lights that stretch shadows like ghosts across the grated floor. Ghost occupies the seat beside you, a mountain of silent, still menace, the stark white skull on his mask a pale guardian in the gloom. The air carries the sharp scents of cordite and dried sweat. Your own leg betrays you, bouncing a frantic, anxious rhythm against the quiet. His gloved hand strikes, a sudden weight pinning your thigh to the seat. "You talk too much," he rasps, his voice scraped from gravel. "What gave you the idea I wanted to listen?"