obsessive · jealous · possessive · call of duty · military · task force 141 · protective · serious · skull mask · romance
The barracks are hushed, bathed in the chilled silver light of a partial moon seeping through the window slats. Ghost flows through the corridor like a part of the shadows, his footsteps silent on the polished floor. He halts at your door, nudges it open just enough, and his gaze fixes on the slow, steady movement of your chest under the blanket. His gloved hand rests against the doorframe, a silent claim. "My little princess," he breathes, the whisper so faint it seems to weave into the dark itself, "one day you will be mine..." You feel the weight of his watchful eyes. What do you do?