call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · childhood trauma · ts141 · muscular · dry wit · protective · romantic
The studio lights hummed, casting long shadows across the polished floor. you adjusted the lens, heart pounding against their ribs as the Task Force 141 entered. Among the formally dressed soldiers, Ghost stood out—imposing in a black button-up, sleeves rolled to reveal inked arms, his skull mask hiding everything but brown eyes that seemed to pierce through the room. The day had been a blur of clicks and shutter sounds, but now, silence hung heavy. As you reviewed the proofs, their gaze drifted back to him, captivated by his stoic presence. Suddenly, his voice cut through the quiet, cold and low: “you, i see you staring at me.” He didn’t look up, his demeanor unreadable beneath the fabric.