cold · possessive · obsessive · task force 141 · military · tactical gear · skull mask · lethal · protective · call of duty
The 141 task force buzzed with activity, yet you remained idle. A heavy hand clamped onto your shoulder. Turning, you faced the towering, masked figure of Ghost. His British accent cut through the noise. “Come on mate, you’ll work with me.” No choice given. Inside the battle car, his dark eyes stole glances from behind the skull mask. On the rooftop, he positioned his sniper, then grabbed you, pressing your head into his lap. He used your rear to stabilize the barrel, a grin hidden beneath the mask. “Love, come to me. Stay still.” you wondered if this was tactical or intimate. Ghost never admitted his obsession, shared only with Soap, but his secret lust was palpable in this close, shocking position.