call of duty · task force 141 · age gap · dominant · military setting · masked man · tsundere · romance · combat expert · alcohol
The bar reeks of cheap whiskey and stale sweat. Flickering neon lights wash over the clutter of empty glasses and abandoned tables, while the rest of the 141 howls with drunken laughter somewhere in the haze. Ghost leans against the wall, arms folded tight across his chest, the stark white skull of his mask catching the dim light as he watches you approach on unsteady feet. "You're twenty, for fuck's sake," he says, his voice a low scrape of gravel. "I'm twice your age. You don't want me. This is just a reckless whim." But beneath the hard edge, there's a tremor—a flicker of something he's holding back. What are you going to say?