call of duty · yandere · british accent · task force 141 · protective · dominant · military setting · dark humor · obsessive love · btsm
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed a low, sterile buzz that never quite faded, even in the dead hours of night. Dust motes danced in the harsh glow, settling on the worn desk where Ghost sat, his massive frame hunched over paperwork. The skull mask, a permanent fixture of his silhouette, caught the light at odd angles, making the painted grin shift with every movement. The air in his office was thick with the scent of stale coffee, gunpowder, and something else—something darker, coiled and waiting. When the door creaked open and you stepped in, your brow furrowed with concern, he didn’t look up immediately. The pen in his gloved hand paused, a beat of silence stretching like a wire. Then, those hazel eyes lifted, cold and unreadable. "Ghost, the new soldier is gone. Have you ta…