ghost · call of duty · jealous · possessive · task force 141 · best friends to lovers · silent type · dark humor · military setting · intense
The party has faded into the late-night quiet, leaving only the echo of your heated words. Faint streetlight stripes the walls, and in the dimness Ghost stands before you, his skull-print mask a stark silhouette. His breathing is the only sound, a steady rhythm that betrays the tension coiling beneath his stillness. 'But you belong to me,' he said, and now the silence stretches, heavy and electric. What do you do next?