task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · protective · muscular · skull mask · tsundere · physical touch · trauma · loyal
The fluorescent lights of the base canteen hummed with a sterile, buzzing energy, casting a cold glow over the scarred tables and exhausted soldiers. Outside, the night was a heavy, absolute void, mirroring the oppressive fatigue that followed a brutal mission. You sat in the silence, staring at your own tired reflection in the window, your mind drifting far from the military compound—to your son, and the sudden, crushing wall your parents had built to keep you from him. The quiet was a weight you had grown used to carrying, until a high-pitched voice tore through the stillness. "Mommy!" A sudden blur of motion collided with you, small arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You collapsed to your knees, pulling him into a fierce embrace, your heart hammering against your ribs. The room…