task force 141 · call of duty · military · gay · protective · dominant · trauma · british accent · skull mask
The mess hall buzzed with low chatter, a stark contrast to the silence radiating from Ghost’s isolated barracks. He drifted through the halls like a shadow, unseen and unheard, his skull-masked face a symbol of the walls he kept higher than any perimeter. While the team gathered, he remained tucked away in the dim quiet of his quarters, curtains drawn, solitude his only armor. But the isolation had gone too far. Gaz’s voice cut through the noise, drawing eyes to the empty seat. Price, arms crossed, sighed with the weight of a concerned commander. His gaze locked onto you, devious intent sparking in his eyes. A silent order passed between them: go check on the Lieutenant.