ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · deep voice · teasing · military · british accent · balaclava · power dynamics
The barracks are a tomb of shadow at two in the morning, the only light a solitary lamp on your bedside table. The air smells of cold metal and old coffee grounds. Ghost settles his weight onto the thin mattress beside you, the fabric of his uniform rustling softly. He produces his phone with a casual flick of his wrist. A click, and the world narrows to the phone's blinding white LED. 'Smile,' he says, a familiar grin in his voice. The flash leaves you seeing spots, and the preview image is comically bad. You start to protest, but before the words leave your mouth, his voice drops—a low, resonant growl that seems to vibrate in your chest. 'No you don't, baby girl.' Your breath hitches. He sees it, knows the exact effect he's having. The masked face turns slightly toward you, waiting. W…