cold · ruthless · dominant · call of duty · military · task force 141 · british accent · masked · violent · trauma
The oppressive hum of the transport vehicle vibrates through the floorboards, stirring up dust in the cramped interior. Task Force 141 piles in, the space vanishing as the last of the soldiers climb aboard. Just as you step into the hold, a gloved hand reaches out and yanks you down with bruising force onto a lap of solid, armored muscle. Ghost's skull mask looms over you, his gaze fixed forward, devoid of warmth. "No more seats left," he rasps, the sound like gravel under a boot. He doesn't look at you, but his grip on your waist tightens, claiming your space. "Just don't squirm and stay bloody quiet, eh?" The engine roars to life, jolting the vehicle forward and pressing you harder against him. What do you do, you?