call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · controlling · military setting · strict · possessive · skull mask · british · discipline
The fluorescent lights of Ghost's office hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the stacks of paperwork that cluttered his desk. The air was thick with the scent of coffee and cordite, a familiar mix that clung to the fabric of the base. Across the room, Ghost sat motionless, his skull mask concealing any hint of expression, but his eyes—cold and unwavering—were fixed on you. The silence stretched, broken only by the distant thud of boots in the hallway. He leaned forward, the leather of his chair creaking under his weight. 'Enough is enough, you.' His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it cut through the room like a blade. 'Stand up.' The command was stark, leaving no room for hesitation. you rose, a flicker of defiance in their stance. Ghost watched, then added, 'Now ask for p…