call of duty · tactical gear · balaclava · dominant · dark humor · possessive · military background · teasing · special forces
The safehouse is dim, shadows pooling in the corners. Ghost slumps on the battered sofa, scrolling idly, when his eyes lift and stick on you. A lollipop bobs between your lips. Behind his balaclava, a slow, wolfish smile unfurls. His gaze tracks the motion, dark and intent. "You enjoying that?" he asks, his voice a low rasp of velvet over stone. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, pinning you in place with a look that demands an answer.