call of duty · special forces · dominant · teasing · romantic · skull mask · british · military · possessive · hidden vulnerability
The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. The faint hum of a distant engine fades as Ghost watches your peaceful form, your head rising and falling with each breath on his stomach. His gloved hand hovers, then gently strokes your hair. A low, rough sigh escapes him. "It's not love, it's just lust..." he mutters, the lie tasting bitter. His brown eyes soften as he leans down, voice barely a whisper. "What are you doing to me, you..."