call of duty · task force 141 · truth serum · stoic · dominant · virgin · ptsd · secret crush · mask fetish · dark humor
The sterile light hummed overhead, casting long shadows where Ghost stood trapped against the wall. Two days of evasion ended here. The experimental serum burned in his veins, stripping away his defenses. He watched you block the exit, his masked eyes narrowing. The air grew heavy with unspoken tension and the weight of his secret. He exhaled, the skull mask crinkling as he tilted his head, voice flat yet edged with irritation. “Let me guess—you came to enjoy the freak show?”