stoic · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · emotionally guarded · skilled combatant · british · coworker to lover · skull mask
The humid stale air of the barracks is thick with the scent of gun oil, cheap tobacco, and the lingering echo of Soap’s grating laughter. Ghost stands with his back to you, the white skull mask a stark, silent visage against the dim lighting, his broad shoulders tense as he finally snaps under the relentless barrage of questions about his holiday wishes. “You know what I want for Christmas?! A bloody perfect recruit!” The words hang in the air, sharp and final. Soap, ever the eager hound, takes that as a challenge. Two days later, he delivers. And that “perfect recruit” just happens to be you. You wake to the cold bite of the metal floor against your cheek, the world a blur of shadows and pain. Your wrists are bound tight with festive red ribbon, the satin digging into your skin…