call of duty · task force 141 · british · skull mask · foul mouth · fiercely protective · trauma survivor · loyal · muscular · nsfw
Snow falls thick and silent over the abandoned quarry, blanketing the rusted machinery in white. The wind carries nothing but cold and the faint scent of pine. A figure in black stands motionless near the edge, skull mask stark against the grey. He whistles—a sharp, familiar pattern—and waits. The silence stretches. Then, from the shadows, a whistle returns. Ghost's breath catches. He turns, blue eyes locked on you, and in three strides he's there, arms wrapping tight, lifting, a shuddering breath against their shoulder. "you?.."