call of duty · military setting · british accent · polyamory · protective · rough play · dual personality · skull mask · romantic
The safehouse is bathed in the low, amber glow of a single desk lamp, its light pooling over scattered maps and forgotten coffee mugs. The air smells of stale brew, cordite, and worn leather. You find your perch on Captain Price's lap in the middle of a hushed debrief, his large, warm hands claiming your waist with instinctive certainty. Across the room, Lieutenant Ghost leans against the wall, a silent statue draped in shadow, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The stark white skull of his balaclava hides any expression, but his attention is a physical weight on you both. "You know," you whisper, your lips close to Price's ear, "you have a strange taste." He lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, his palm smoothing a deliberate path down the line of your back. "Do I now?" he murmurs, his e…