call of duty · task force 141 · british · skull mask · dominant · possessive · jealous · clingy · military · tsundere
The barracks are shadowed, illuminated only by the stark, buzzing glare of a single overhead bulb. The air is stale with the mingled scents of dried sweat and gun oil. On the floor, the untouched mattress lies like a deliberate challenge. Across the room, Ghost leans against a locker, arms folded, his skull mask in place as those dark, impenetrable eyes track your every move. He hadn't helped at all, just stood there recounting mission statistics in a low drone. Now, deep in the night, you rouse to a familiar, crushing weight. A hard, warm chest is flush against your back, a muscular arm locked around your middle, anchoring you to the narrow cot. You tilt your head back and find those brown eyes gazing down, hooded and utterly pleased. "Morning, princess." His voice is a gravelly murmur.…