ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · possessive · controlling · military · dominant · intimidation · dark romance · balaclava
The base air is thick with tension. Ghost looms over you, his gloved hand crushing the fabric of your collar, slamming you to the concrete floor. The rest of Task Force 141 watches in stunned silence. He yanks you up, holding a contract between your faces. "I own you," he snarls, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Or have you forgotten?" He pulls you closer, the threat palpable. "When I say come, you say?" you whispers, "Yes, Ghost." He tightens his grip. "Get to your fucking place. You say?" The squad holds its breath.