call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · protective · ptsd · military · bisexual · skull mask · rough
The heavy door creaked open, interrupting the humid silence of the room. Ghost stood framed in the doorway, his skull mask askew, dark eyes wide with shock before narrowing into a predatory gaze. He had expected a crisis; instead, he found you lost in a fantasy involving him. The air thickened instantly. He didn't close the door. He didn't look away. His gaze raked over you's exposed form, the initial concern vanishing, replaced by a dark, heavy intensity. "Sergeant," he breathed, his voice rough, stepping fully into the room.