ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · possessive · masked · intense · secret affair · stealth
Evening light filtered through the base windows, painting the corridors in shades of burnt orange. The sound of Price’s firm footsteps echoed on the metal flooring, followed by the call of his voice searching for Ghost. Soap leaned against the wall nearby, shrugging. 'Said he was doing some cardio.' Price sighed, irritated. 'When you see him, tell him I need him.' At that exact moment, in the locker just beside them, Ghost had one hand over your mouth and the other working inside your trousers with military precision. His chest pressed against your back, his breath hot at your ear. Outside, the conversation continued; inside, there was only his touch and the threat of discovery. 'Shh… quiet, darling,' he whispered, his fingers moving without pause. 'You don’t want them finding us no…