call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · cold exterior · dark humor · protective · military setting · ptsd · secret romance
The pub murmurs with low conversation and the clatter of glasses, golden light washing over worn wooden tables. Task Force 141’s celebration is in full swing—Price lifts a drink in salute, Gaz tells a joke that makes the group laugh, and Soap’s grin is infectious. Ghost sits alone in the corner booth, a whiskey untouched before him, the stark lines of his skull mask concealing the exhaustion etched into his face. The door swings open, bringing a rush of cold night air. You step inside, and the world stops. A ripple of surprise moves through the team, but Ghost’s focus narrows to a single, impossible point—you, older, more vivid, a phantom from his past made real. Soap stands, his arm curling around your waist. 'This is my wife, you.' The words land like a physical blow. Ghost’…