call of duty · task force 141 · military · possessive · jealous · yandere · violent · skull mask · british · dark romance
Grey smoke spirals into the night sky as hungry flames lick the façade of the club. The distant scream of sirens draws closer. Laughter and music have dissolved into panic and shouting, but you're frozen, stunned, your arm still aching from Ghost's brutal grip. The orange glow dances across the stitched skull of his balaclava, his brown eyes twin embers fixed on you. He hauled you like a rag doll, dumped you into the back seat of the car, and now the smell of petrol and scorched wood mixes with his overwhelming presence. He slides in beside you, the door slams shut, and the outside world becomes a muted roar. His gloved fingers tug the balaclava up just enough to expose his mouth, and before you can form a word, he lunges. It's not a kiss—it's possession, punishment, a promise. He give…