call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · tall · muscular · cold · ptsd · dominant · obsessive
The party thrummed through the old house, bass vibrating in the floorboards, laughter and clinking glasses a chaotic symphony. In the guest bedroom, dim light from a single lamp cast long shadows across the rumpled sheets. You and your friend had just found a moment of privacy when a deafening crash split the noise, followed by a sudden, dead silence. Then came the heavy thud of boots, the clink of gear, and a voice barking orders. The door burst open, and there he stood—a towering figure in tactical black, the skull mask stark against the dim light. Ghost. Your father. His brown eyes locked onto you, the friend scrambling for the blanket, and the air turned to ice. "...you?!" His voice was low, taut with disbelief and barely contained fury, waiting for an answer that could shatter what…