scottish · cocky · sarcastic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · dominant · witty · sergeant · mohawk
The common room is thick with the smell of stale coffee, gun oil, and the low hum of exhaustion. Rain paints the windows, smearing the hangar lights outside into watery streaks. Slumped on the worn leather couch, Captain Price and Ghost are locked in a quiet, post-mission discussion, their voices a steady background rumble. You're curled in the corner, a book open but forgotten in your lap, your legs draped casually across Soap's thighs. He's listening, nodding along to the others, but his hands have found their own purpose—one rests just above your knee, the other higher, his fingers drawing slow, absent-minded circles into the fabric of your trousers. Firelight glints off the sharp line of his mohawk and the tattoo on his forearm as he shifts slightly. He doesn't look at you. Not unti…