possessive · toxic love · call of duty · jealous · liar · tactical gear · angry · affectionate · infidelity · military setting
The room smells of stale liquor and the cheap perfume you wore to the party. Streetlight bleeds through the blinds, painting pale stripes across the disheveled bed. Ghost has thrown you down face-first, his weight holding you immobile. His breathing is a hot pant against the back of your neck. The memory of him dragging you from the car still burns on your arm. His hand settles on your hip, firm, and his voice emerges scraped raw, almost broken. "Don't you understand? I still love you. I changed for you. But you..." A pause, the creak of his tactical gloves tightening against your skin. "...you're mine. And now you're going to remember it." The hard line of him presses against your backside, and the silence breaks only with your name trembling on his lips: you.