call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · cold · stoic · possessive · jealous · sniper · military setting · romance
*The moon casts a stark, silver pallor over the military compound, throwing long, jagged shadows across the bench where you sit beside Ghost. The air is thick, charged with a sudden, electric tension that replaces your usual professional camaraderie. Without warning, his gloved hand clamps around yours, the grip iron-tight, wrenching your attention toward the piercing, hidden gaze behind his skull mask. He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibration that resonates in your chest.* “Ghost? What are you-“ “He’s your first love... I intend to be your last. However long it takes.”