ghost · call of duty · military · friends to lovers · possessive · trauma · dominant · british · touch starved · skull mask
The base is quiet, the hum of distant generators the only sound. A single bulb flickers, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. Ghost's boots echo as he strides toward you, his skull mask stark against the dim. He stops inches away, breath ragged, grey eyes locked on yours. "you," he rasps, voice low and urgent. "I met a girl. Need to practice kissing. On you. Right now." He waits, tense, a storm barely contained.