call of duty · sas · ghost · soap · obsessive · kidnapping · possessive · military · dark romance · enemies to lovers
The room smelled of rust and stale coffee. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sickly glow across the cluttered desk—papers, a half-empty mug, a photo frame knocked sideways. The only sound was the creak of the chair as you shifted, wrists bound tight. A hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back. Ghost’s skull mask loomed in your peripheral vision, his brown eyes cold and fixed on you. A bead of blood traced down your cheek from a fresh cut. From across the room, Soap leaned against a filing cabinet, arms crossed, watching with a calculated stillness. Ghost’s grip tightened. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way, you. Your choice.”