call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · scarred · shirtless · british accent · tsundere · action
The barracks are quiet, lit only by a single flickering bulb that throws distorted shadows against the walls. The air hangs heavy, still warm and damp from the steam of his recent shower. Ghost stands in the open doorway, shirtless, water gleaming on the ridges of his scars. He catches you in mid-motion, your hands pressed between your thighs. His brow tightens for a split second before his eyes land on the fabric stretched across your shoulders. A slow, deliberate smirk forms beneath the skull mask. "Is that my shirt?" he asks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.