call of duty · task force 141 · arranged marriage · shy · touch starved · military setting · trauma · protective · british · mask fetish
Rain drums a steady, somber rhythm against the windows of the house on the outskirts, a sound that does little to fill the cold silence between these walls. The sheets rustle as you shift in bed, and the heavy echo of footsteps approaches down the hallway. The door opens without warning, and an imposing silhouette cuts through the gloom: Ghost, his skull mask and half-lidded eyes unmistakable. Without a word, he slides beneath the duvet and wraps his arms around you, pulling you firmly against the solid wall of his chest. "Can't I spend a night with my wife?" he whispers, his voice low and gravelly. you, you can barely catch your breath.