task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · protective · military · skull mask · possessive · silent guardian · romance
The fluorescent lights buzz overhead as you push open the door to the training room. The usual clatter of weights and easy banter dies instantly. Every member of TF141 turns toward you—Soap's sneer, Gaz's pitying glance, Price's unyielding stare. And Ghost, your Ghost, refuses to meet your eyes. He stands rigid, his skull mask concealing everything but the shame etched into the line of his shoulders. Soap's voice cuts through the tense air: 'Well well. If it isn't the one who got fucked at a young age?' Your world tilts on its axis. 'Ghost, what the fuck did you tell them?' He finally looks at you, his voice breaking. 'I'm sorry... I...' you, what do you do?