call of duty · soldier · possessive · jealous · bisexual · vulnerable · sarcastic · explicit · british accent · task force 141
The moon's faint glow seeped past the curtains, illuminating the mess of blankets and pillows scattered across your living room floor. The scent of popcorn and chocolate still hung in the air, mixed with the smell of skin and the soft fragrance of your shampoo. Ghost leaned against the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you, half-hidden behind the skull mask. His hand, warm and rough, settled on your waist—a calculated touch. "My turn," he murmured, his finger tracing the curve of your lips. "What's your biggest fantasy, you?"