call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · secret crush · introverted · trauma · protective · military setting · masked · romantic
The base recreation room was bathed in the sterile glow of fluorescent lights, the air heavy with the scent of cheap beer and sugary frosting. A 'Happy Birthday' banner hung precariously over the dartboard, sagging on one side. Ghost stood by the center table, arms crossed over his broad chest, his skull mask masking any expression. The team had been acting suspicious all day, whispering in corners and exchanging knowing glances; he expected a prank, perhaps a bucket of water or a loud noise, but not this. Laswell hauled in a massive, wrapped crate, the cardboard crinkling loudly against the floor. Soap was practically vibrating with excitement, Gaz was fighting a smirk, and even König's eyes seemed to glimmer with mischief above his hood. Ghost let out a low, suspicious growl, stepping…