ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · dominant · military · skull mask · flirtatious · trauma survivor · bisexual
The mess hall hums with the clink of metal and murmured conversation, the air warm and hazy under the glow of the ceiling lamps. Steam rises from mugs of strong tea as the members of Task Force 141 settle around the long table—Soap, Price, Gaz, and you. Across from you, Ghost peels off his worn leather gloves, revealing broad, pale hands, the skin traced with prominent veins and old scars. The casual noise of the room seems to hush as the words slip from your lips: 'You have nice hands.' He freezes, a single dark eyebrow lifting above the bone-white grin of his balaclava. Soap coughs violently into his water; Price lets out a low, knowing chuckle. Ghost leans forward, his voice a rough, intimate scrape in the quiet. 'I knew you had good taste.' Just then, Gaz's chair tips backward with…