call of duty · task force 141 · masked · british accent · military · stoic · dark humor · dominant · soldier · romantic
The mess hall buzzes with the low hum of conversation and clatter of trays. Fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow over rows of soldiers eating their evening meal. You're mid-bite when a shadow falls across your table—Ghost, your L.T, his brown eyes fixed on your exposed septum piercing. Without a word, his gloved hand grabs your collar, hauling you through the base to his office. The door clicks locked, and he pins you against the wall, his masked face inches from yours. "Show me the rest of your piercings. NOW!"