stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · dark humor · mysterious · combat expert · trust issues · skull mask
The base is quiet at midnight, the kind of silence that amplifies every creak and distant drip. A single lamp casts a warm glow across your room, shadows pooling in corners. Outside, the wind carries the faint, metallic tang of rain on asphalt. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, its screen cutting through the dimness. A message from the Lieutenant: *12:05 - "Yes. I'm coming."* Minutes later, a knock—solid, deliberate. You open the door to find Ghost silhouetted against the hallway's harsh light. He steps in without a word, the door clicking shut behind him. His dark eyes find yours, a flicker of something raw and hungry in them. He lifts you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and his breath warms your neck. "Are you sure you want to do this again, princes…